Cody Walker's Woman (3 page)

“He wouldn’t tell me much over the phone,” Cody said, then repeated the conversation nearly verbatim, including Callahan’s statement about who he trusted...and who he didn’t.

D’Arcy didn’t say anything after Cody finished, just sat there contemplating the pencil he picked up off his desk. He seemed to reach a decision, because he looked at Cody and said, “I’ve heard rumblings of this before today. I’ve already got a team working on it.” He leaned over and pressed a switch. “Can you see if you can locate McKinnon and Jones for me? If they’re in the building, I need to see them right away.”

“McKinnon?” Cody asked after D’Arcy cut off the connection. “That wouldn’t be Trace McKinnon, would it?”

“Yeah. You remember him from six years ago, don’t you? I’ve got a feeling he’s the third man Callahan was referring to, the other man he trusts.”

“I remember him, but I thought he was still a federal marshal. I didn’t know he worked for the agency.”

D’Arcy let out a bark of laughter. “Compartmentalization. I guess it does work sometimes.” He looked at Cody from under his brows. “McKinnon was the first person I recruited after
I
was recruited. He’d worked for me for years before I came here—I’d trust him with my life. I knew he’d be perfect for this agency, just like I knew you would be, too.”

The corner of Cody’s mouth curved up in a rueful smile. “Not so perfect—on my part, that is. Last week—”

D’Arcy waved his hand. “I already told you to forget last week, didn’t I?” He hesitated. “I wasn’t going to tell you until all the paperwork was processed, but there will be a commendation in your personnel jacket if I have anything to say about it.”

That means it’s a done deal,
Cody thought, knowing how highly respected Nick D’Arcy was by the head of their agency in Washington, D.C. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” He thought for a second, then confessed, “I couldn’t have done anything else, but...I’m glad it won’t be a mark against me.”

“Not to worry.”

Then Cody remembered the other thing D’Arcy had said, and he asked, “Rumblings? You said you’ve heard rumblings about the New World Militia?”

D’Arcy grimaced. “The FBI has been keeping a watchful eye on certain individuals for years,” he said. “But even after all this time since 9/11, we still don’t have the interagency cooperation we should have. They don’t tell us everything they know, and we’re not much better.”

“But if they aren’t telling you what they know...”

“I have my own sources within the FBI...and a few other places” was all D’Arcy would say.

The phone buzzed, and D’Arcy pressed the intercom button. “Yes?”

“McKinnon and Jones are here, sir.”

“Send them in.”

Cody stood up as the door opened and Trace McKinnon walked in. Cody recognized him immediately, even though it had been almost five years since he’d last seen him. Along with Callahan, Cody owed his life to this man, who’d given him first aid before the medevac chopper had airlifted him to the hospital in Sheridan. He had thanked McKinnon afterward, but except for seeing him at the trials that followed the arrests of the upper echelons of the New World Militia, their paths hadn’t crossed until now.

Cody started forward, his hand outstretched. “Good to see you, McKinnon,” he said. Then he stopped as abruptly as if he’d been shot. Following McKinnon into the room was the woman with the mop of red-gold curls no comb could tame. The woman he’d blown his assignment to rescue. The woman he couldn’t get out of his mind.

Keira.

Chapter 2

“S
pecial Agent Keira Jones,” Nick D’Arcy was saying. “I think you know Special Agent Cody Walker, don’t you?”

Keira held out her hand to Cody. “Good to see you again” was all she said as she shook his hand.

“Same here,” Cody told her.

Cody threw a sideways questioning glance at D’Arcy, which Keira caught, but he didn’t say anything. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her partner stiffen and his eyes narrow, and she knew she’d made a mistake admitting she knew Cody. She wondered if Trace was making the connection.

She’d told him the bare bones about her kidnapping and near-miraculous escape, but hadn’t given any specifics. And she hadn’t told him the name of her rescuer for a very good reason—she’d recognized Cody’s name as soon as he said it, had known he worked for the same agency as she did, and had hoped and prayed the story wouldn’t make the rounds of the office.

It was hard enough even now for a woman to make a career in a job that had traditionally been a man’s world, especially within the agency; she didn’t want to become the butt of office laughter over allowing herself to be kidnapped in that fashion and needing to be rescued by a fellow agent. A
male
agent.

She hadn’t recognized him that night. She and Cody had never met before; they didn’t work in the same division and their case loads hadn’t overlapped. But she’d heard the name Cody Walker when he’d received an agency commendation the year before, and Cody was an unusual name. When they’d made it to his car, breathless and panting after running through the night, he’d introduced himself almost as an afterthought.

She’d known then who he was, but she’d only told him her name was Keira. The Jones part would probably have been safe enough, but...she didn’t want to risk it.

They’d driven in silence for a few minutes before she’d even thought to say thanks. That was when he’d apologized for manhandling her, and she’d apologized for scratching him. But when he’d tried to take her to the hospital, she’d adamantly refused. The same for going to the police.

She’d asked him to drop her at her car instead, and he’d reluctantly agreed. When they’d reached her car, he’d insisted on finishing changing the tire for her and then had followed her all the way to I-70 to make sure she got back safely on the road to Denver.

She’d reported the incident, of course. Even though she hadn’t been working when she’d been kidnapped, once she’d made the connection between her rescuer and a fellow agent, she’d realized he had probably been on an undercover operation himself. If so, his cover had been blown, and she owed it to him to make sure he didn’t suffer any disagreeable consequences as a result.

But she hadn’t reported it up the chain of command. She couldn’t bring herself to do that; it would have been too humiliating. Instead, she’d made an appointment to see Baker Street himself—Nick D’Arcy—first thing Monday morning and had confessed everything. While McKinnon and Walker exchanged a few words, her thoughts winged back to that stark interview.

* * *

D’Arcy listened in silence until she was done, then asked a few questions. She tried to keep emotion out of her responses, as if she were merely an agent reporting to a superior officer regarding an assignment.

“You weren’t raped? You can tell me the truth.”

She flinched but answered him honestly. “No, sir. But I would have been, probably killed, too, if not for Walker.”

“You didn’t lose your service weapon?”

“No, sir. I wasn’t carrying it. I was on mandatory use-it-or-lose-it vacation.”

“What were you doing out there?”

“My family has a cabin near Dillon Reservoir, closer to Keystone than to Silverthorne. My partner called me Friday afternoon, asked me to come back early from vacation because he had a hot lead on one of the cases we’re working and wanted my assistance following up on it. He knows me, knows I’d want to be involved if... Well, anyway, he wanted us to get together early Saturday. I was driving home to Denver Friday evening when I had a flat tire on Loveland Pass Road. I was in the middle of changing the flat when a car pulled up behind me. The driver got out and asked if I needed help. I told him no, thanks, but then...the other two men got out of the car.”

She hesitated, knowing she could never tell D’Arcy the fear that had gripped her in that instant...and the despair. Fear and despair she’d refused to give in to, but which she would remember forever. “I do have a carry permit for a personal weapon, sir, but the gun was locked in my glove compartment. Maybe I should have had it handy, but it’s not as if Loveland Pass is deserted—cars pass there all the time. I didn’t think...just changing a tire... And it wasn’t even dark yet at that point...”

“They didn’t get your gun?”

“No, sir. They didn’t touch my car. Not even to get my wallet. Just me.”

“How did you recover your car?”

“Walker dropped me there. He didn’t want to, but I insisted. He followed me all the way to the highway to make sure I was okay.”

D’Arcy sat in silence for a few minutes, digesting her answers. “Thank you for telling me this,” he said finally.

In a small voice, Keira said, “I realize it doesn’t reflect well on the agency, sir, or on me. If you think I should resign, I will.”

He frowned. “I don’t think that’s necessary. We all make mistakes. And you weren’t even on duty at the time.”

“No, but—”

“No,” he said. “It’s not a mistake you’ll repeat. And the fact that you’ve reported it to me is a plus. It says a lot about you.”

“I just didn’t want Walker to get into trouble,” she said. “It wouldn’t be right—not after he saved my life.” She glanced down at her hands, saw the bruises around her wrists that her long-sleeved blouse didn’t cover and surreptitiously pulled down her cuffs.

But she wasn’t fast enough, and D’Arcy said, “Have you seen a doctor?”

She nodded. “Walker wanted to take me to the hospital Friday night, but I wouldn’t let him. And I wouldn’t let him take me to file a police report, either. I figured his cover had been blown, but I didn’t know what else his operation had entailed. I didn’t want to draw police attention to that area, just in case there was something else going down. But I did see my own doctor first thing Saturday morning, before I met my partner.” Her lips tightened, then she added as if she couldn’t help herself, “Trace and I closed that case yesterday, sir.” It wasn’t much compared to how she felt about botching Walker’s operation, but it was something positive at least.

D’Arcy rubbed his chin with his long fingers, then said, “Okay, then.” He smiled encouragingly at her. “You’ve done the right thing by telling me, but that’s as far as it goes. Don’t be afraid it will get out—I’m not even going to put a notation in your jacket,” he said. “You’re an excellent agent and you’ve done some outstanding work for this agency. I don’t want to lose you. And don’t brood about it. Take a lesson from it and move on.”

* * *

Now, in Nick D’Arcy’s office for the second time in a week, Keira remembered the sense of relief that had flooded her when he’d refused her resignation. She loved her job, loved the challenge, the excitement of solving cases no one else could solve. But most of all she loved making a difference, making the world a safer place—the same reason she’d joined the Marine Corps right out of high school. She’d felt honor bound to tender her resignation to D’Arcy but was grateful it hadn’t come to that.

At D’Arcy’s invitation, Keira sat down between her partner and Cody Walker. Then D’Arcy said four words, “The New World Militia.” Trace started to speak, glanced at Cody over Keira’s head and kept mum. “I’m bringing Walker in on this investigation,” D’Arcy explained. “Ryan Callahan called him.”

“Callahan?” McKinnon said. “Damn. That means the rumors
are
true.”

“Who’s Ryan Callahan?” Keira asked, looking from one face to the other and settling on her partner.

Before Trace could respond, Cody said, “Former cop. Undercover for five years with the New World Militia at the instigation of the FBI. Practically single-handedly brought down the organization six years ago.”

“I think you had something to do with that yourself,” D’Arcy said drily.

Cody made a dismissive gesture. “Maybe. But without him there wouldn’t have been much of a case to prosecute in the first place.” He looked at Keira. “He called me this afternoon, said that he
knows
the organization has been resurrected. He wouldn’t tell me how he knew, over what he said was an unsecured phone line, but I’ll tell you this—if he says he knows, I damn well believe him.”

A long silence followed his harsh statement. Then D’Arcy looked at Keira and Trace. “I know you haven’t been working this case very long, but what have you got?”

Keira glanced at Trace, who made a gesture signaling for her to go ahead. “We took the information you gave us,” she told D’Arcy, “and we checked it out. There’s no tangible proof yet, nothing we can take to a grand jury regarding the New World Militia. But there
is
a common thread connecting everyone on your list. They are part of a political action committee—a super PAC, actually—called NOANC. It can’t be a coincidence.”

D’Arcy leaned back in his chair, rubbed his hand over his face and sighed. “I was hoping I was wrong.” He looked at Cody and said softly, “Five senators, more than two dozen congressmen and I don’t know who all else.”

“What?” Cody sat up in his chair. “That’s not possible. The organization was
destroyed
six years ago. How—”

“That’s what you’re going to find out,” D’Arcy said. “You’re relieved of the rest of your case load as of right now, Walker. I’ll clear it down the line. And since Callahan prefers not to have your partner in on this...” He shrugged. “That’s the way it will have to be for now.”

He looked at Keira and Trace. “Because of his extensive background with the New World Militia and his connection with Callahan, I’m putting Walker in charge—you’ll report directly to him. Turn over any other cases you’ve got running to your supervisor. I’ll make sure he understands, but brief him thoroughly.”

His expression was deadly serious as he faced the three agents in front of him. “I’m sending you to Black Rock to talk with Callahan, find out what he’s got. Bring him in on the investigation, if that’s what it takes. No one knows better than him that this organization is a cancer, and if we don’t excise it—fast!—it might be too late.”

Cody glanced at Keira, then back at D’Arcy. “Callahan won’t like it,” he said. He looked at Keira again, an apology in his eyes. “Callahan doesn’t know you and he doesn’t trust you. I don’t think he’ll talk if you’re there.”