Full Disclosure (47 page)

“Maybe she doesn't think she's as safe and hidden out there as we do. House arrest wouldn't be a bad alternative if she thought someone who would kill her was close to finding her.”

“Maybe.” He leaned over and kissed her. “What do you say we take a walk before we go to Falcons?”

“Black, want to walk?” The dog hit the floor and headed to the elevator. Ann laughed. “I think that was a definite yes for both of us. Go change into something more comfortable, and we'll take a wandering walk before we celebrate how much older you've become.”

Dawn slid across the bedroom, and Paul could see the dog now, stretched on his back with four feet in the air. As Paul was often up before five o'clock trying not to wake Ann, and the dog loved the bathroom doorway, they had all too often encountered each other with yelps and limps in the dark room.

Ann had her arm flung around a pillow hugging it, facedown, deep asleep. She rarely moved once she finally went down. Her dreams had been quieter the last few days. He traced a hand lightly across her back and softly kissed her hair before sliding out of bed. He could feel the contentment of being married grow stronger with every morning. The dog opened one eye as Paul stepped over him, and Paul obligingly scratched his tummy.

He found his toothbrush and dug around in her basket on the counter to find where she had put the toothpaste. The bathroom down the hall worked for his morning shower, to shave and to later dress for work, but for the next few hours of breakfast and a dog walk and handling family business, he could use the master bath quietly enough to dress casually and not wake Ann.

Ann was good at birthdays. She had bought him a yo-yo and showed him how to properly “walk the dog” with it, and she had bought him a high-speed game station and told him he'd have to connect it without her help, as she was impossible with electronics—the kids had told her what to get. Then she'd
cautiously told him they were hosting a houseful of kids the next weekend, all of them under twelve. She had said it solemnly as if she wasn't quite sure how he'd take the news. He'd instantly grinned. She'd put out word to the family, and the kids had poured in with pleas for the opportunity to come see the cowboy in the entryway and play with Black.

He couldn't think of better birthday gifts for what it told him about her. He'd set her up with her own account on the family website, and she had settled in with such alacrity it felt like she'd been part of the family forever. The kids loved her. So they were hosting a houseful of kids. If their marriage survived this event, it would be a good milestone. He looked over at Black. He thought he'd better find a second dog to borrow for the weekend so Black didn't take the full brunt of all the attention.

He put away his toothbrush. “You want to share my bacon for breakfast?”

The dog rolled over, shook his head to wake up, and lumbered to his feet. The dog was much more a morning animal than Ann had realized. Paul found he liked the company for breakfast. They were rapidly settling into a habit of the newspaper and breakfast and a walk.

After breakfast, handling family business, and walking the dog, Paul quietly walked back to the bedroom for a last check. Ann hadn't moved. He was relieved she looked more rested than she had a couple of weeks ago. He slid a note under her phone and softly kissed her, then headed to work.

Paul finished the morning update meeting, along with a review of the cases they had found, considered, and rejected, then returned to his office to get ready to see Arthur and the director about the letter. Ann was sitting in the visitor's chair in his office, reading a paperback and drinking a root beer. He ran a hand across her shoulder as he passed her, unloaded what he carried
onto his desk, and got himself a soda. He leaned against the desk and just enjoyed looking at her.

She put her book down. “You've got that amused expression on your face again. Did I get the outfit wrong?”

“If the director has a problem with jeans and teal, he's an idiot. I love those jeans.”

“I was at Falcons talking with Jackie, and I didn't have time to get home to change.” She tucked her book into her bag.

“Let's go flying tonight. You haven't been in the air much at all for the last two months. We should fix that.”

She looked over, interested. “Have a destination in mind?”

“Wherever a plane needs to go where there's one to bring us back.”

“I got asked to ferry a bird to St. Louis, if you don't mind a few hours for a round trip.”

“I'm game. I'd like to watch a sunset with you.”

“I'll set it up. What's the plan for upstairs?”

“I don't have one. I want the tape, and I want her to come in. The deal she wants to make is more than they will be able to accept. So it's probably three hours of going in circles, trying to figure out an answer that is a no without it being a hard no.”

“Has the VP heard back on a name?”

“Not yet. We know she has his letter requesting it. We still don't know how or even when she intercepted the letter this time, but it got lifted in transit again.”

“Are Rita and Sam joining us?”

“They asked to wave off so they can stay looking for the case the letter is referring to. So far they haven't found what looks like a good match.” Paul looked at the time. “We'd better go up.”

Paul caught her hand, and they went upstairs to Suite 906 where Arthur, Tori, and the director were waiting. The VP had not yet arrived. Paul got himself coffee as he listened to Ann and the director chat. Ann was comfortable with Edward in a way that told him it was an old friendship. A few minutes later
it became obvious Tori and Ann had mutual friends as well. Paul settled into a chair beside Ann.

The VP walked in, followed by Reece Lion. “Sorry I'm late, gentlemen. Hello, Ann. And congratulations to both of you.” He nodded at Paul and pulled an envelope from his pocket. “Her answer came in this morning's mail. Should I open it? Or do you wish to check it first?”

“Open it.”

The VP stepped over to the desk. He slit open the envelope and removed a single sheet of light green paper. He read it, paled, and pulled a lighter from his pocket. He slid over an empty candy dish and burned the page. “Give me twenty minutes. I'm going to take a walk around the roof and think about this.” He left with Reece.

“The name spooked him.”

“I'd say.” The director looked at the pile of ash. “Paul, there's no case that looks like a good match for her reference?”

“A few are long-distance head shots, but none hold up as being her once you read the case file. We haven't found it yet. And nothing matches a name that would be this high-profile.”

The VP finally returned with Reece right behind him. “One more minute. Arthur, may I use your desk?”

“Of course.”

The VP pulled out the chair, picked up a pad of paper and wrote quickly. “I can't tell you what she said, but I can tell you the name she gave me is a retired person on this list.” He handed the page to the director.

Edward scanned it, frowned, grew angry, and read the list aloud. “Supreme Court justice, Speaker of the House, majority leader of the Senate, CIA director, FBI director, U.S. attorney general, vice president, president.” He looked up from the page. “You're serious, Jim. She's got a tape of someone on this list, retired, hiring her to commit a murder?”

“That's the statement she's making. You need to solve what case she's talking about, or you need to give her the deal she wants.”

“It's an old tape she's going to turn in. She can hide a forgery in bad recording equipment. These people give speeches all the time. Enough time, you can make me say anything you want. We give her the deal, and it proves to be a hoax or an elaborate forgery.”

“We can make any deal contingent on the tape not being a forgery. No, I think she believes the tape is real. She's asking for witness protection for thirty murders. It's an astounding request. She thinks she's got information that warrants that kind of deal.”

“Paul, what are you thinking?” Arthur asked.

“How many names total does that list of retired individuals include? Fifty? A few more than that? These are well-known people, in the news when they held the job and still newsworthy after they retire. We cover the time period from her first shooting until now, and we look for people connected to them who are dead. They aren't going to hire someone to kill a stranger. So we look for disputes on record, any court papers, civil disputes. Who on that list of disputes is dead? Who on that list of dead died by a gunshot? If there's something out there, it's going to have at least a rumor somewhere.”

Arthur nodded. “Start that search. We need to have at least a possibility of what we are dealing with.”

“We should convene again tomorrow,” Tori suggested. “We aren't in a position to make a decision.”

The director nodded. “Agreed. Can you imagine what this is going to be like if it is true? We're prosecuting thirty murders. We're about to be hit with the release of your autobiography and the boating accident being an abduction. Now we add a high-profile hired hit? The agency is never going to get out of the news cycle at this rate.”

“Paul.” Ann handed him a sandwich.

“Thanks.”

She had brought in a meal for everyone on his team. The clock showed it was after ten p.m. and they were still trying to find a case that fit. “You might as well go home, Ann. This is going to be another few hours before we finish checking the possible names.” Based on the VP's definition of who was on the tape, they had a list of forty-eight names to consider.

“I'm okay for another hour,” she said. “These people have been sued, threatened, suffered personal tragedies, but no one close to them, or in a dispute with them, has died of a gunshot.”

“Do you see another way to do this search?”

“Maybe broaden the question. Someone on this list hired a hit, a very expensive hit. It still makes sense that it was done to protect someone. Maybe not to protect themselves, but to protect someone in their family. I'd guess the children or the grandchildren rather than something more distant like a cousin. Maybe look for a police report on a child. If family were the victim of a crime, if the law didn't get them justice, then maybe hire a professional shooter to get their justice.”

Paul nodded, liking the idea. “Do you think the tape is real?”

“I think the lady shooter planned for witness protection before she ever sent you the first tape. She has something big. The other thirty tapes, they were incidental. They were simply to get you to recognize why you needed to say yes to something so off the scale as witness protection and house arrest for thirty murders.”

“It will be quite a conversation tomorrow.”

I
can't give a hired shooter witness protection and house arrest for thirty murders, even in exchange for a tape of an individual on that list. It would never make it through trial to a successful prosecution,” the director said, rubbing his face with his hands. The conversation had been going on for two hours, and that was still the core problem. She was asking for too much.

“You hand me a tape of a retired Supreme Court justice asking the lady shooter to kill his brother, and I don't know if I can make the case. We don't know how old the case is, if there is any supporting evidence. The body could have been cremated, and we can't even prove a murder occurred. The lady shooter would have to appear in court and back up the tape and confess to the shooting and the money received—all of it. And I would still likely not get a conviction. The credibility factor would be too much to overcome, not to mention the argument that the tape could be a fabrication. We need a lot more information before we could accept this offer.” He looked at Arthur, and then to Paul. “Can we figure out the contract murder without the tape?”

“It's not an easy list of people to investigate, even if it is a limited number of names,” Paul answered. “We haven't found anything so far with a dozen agents and a dozen hours. It's likely out there, but I don't know if we will find it, and I don't
know how we would prove it if we didn't have the tape.” Sam and Rita had joined them for this conversation, and Paul looked at them to see if there was anything they wished to add. They, like Ann, had been quiet since the meeting began.

“Give her a contingent deal. There has to be a guilty plea or a successful conviction to get witness protection,” the VP recommended.

The director turned. “Say that again, Jim.”

“She's asking for too much. But there might be a combination of facts that would get you to the point you would agree to her offer. Give her a contingent deal.” The VP leaned forward in his chair. “Take her offer but with terms. It takes a confession and a guilty plea from the person on the tape, or it takes a successful prosecution, to get her the long-term deal for witness protection and house arrest. You decide not to go to trial, you go to trial and lose, she spends the rest of her life in medium security at the prison of her choosing and under the name of her choosing. But that's not much better than the deal she has now, and she's presently living free and apparently has substantial financial resources. You have to give her an incentive to come in and roll the dice on the trial outcome.”

The VP looked around the room before continuing. “So give her an incentive. She agrees to cooperate and testify at every murder trial you bring for the thirty murders. During the time between when she turns herself in and the last murder trial is brought, she gets witness protection and house arrest. It raises the likelihood you get convictions on the murders, it gets her to turn herself in, it gets her protection from the thirty people who have reason to want her dead, and it gets you the last tape she's talking about. You simply say no, she stays out there and free. An offer with terms is worth the try. At least it keeps the conversation open.”

“Yes, that's the best way,” Tori agreed. “We don't know what this tape is, but if it proves valuable enough to enable a conviction, even witness protection is not an unreasonable outcome.”

The director reluctantly nodded. “Write it up. We watch the package every step of the way. If she hasn't opened the reply when we catch her, we can argue the only deal she has is the prior one.”

The VP nodded. “I'll get a new phone solely for this. I'll request that she call me on that number to make arrangements to turn herself in. You can't put a trace on the line or listen to the call, as it risks everything she gives you being tossed out in court, but you can know the moment she has the letter and learns the number to call. Put tracing and recording on my other phones. If she calls on one of those lines, I don't accept her as a client and you can use the information. Paul, what do I suggest for how and when she turns herself in?”

“I'm sure she'll have a suggestion on where and when. We need these core pieces. She comes alone. It's in a location without civilians around, who could get hurt if there's trouble. It's daylight. I'll assume she is going to want you there, and you don't go anywhere without Secret Service and cops. You can sit in a bulletproof vehicle and talk to her on the phone until she's in handcuffs. My preference would be a bankrupt building with a big parking lot, she arrives in a vehicle and parks, we pull into the parking lot, she calls you and you talk her through getting out of the car, walking away from it, putting her hands behind her head, and we get out and put cuffs on her.”

“That's good, but we need less open,” Sam said, speaking for the first time. “We've arrested thirty people who have reason to want her dead so she can't testify against them. There's a serious risk that someone takes a shot at her. They have to assume if you caught them, you can get to the lady shooter, and they want her dead if they can find her first.”

“What do you suggest?” Paul asked.

“I don't know. An underground parking garage solves part of it but adds a lot more problems.”

“Rita, have an idea?”

“I want to hear Ann's.”

Ann looked uncomfortable with the attention, but looked at Paul. “All you need is for her to be unarmed, alone, and at a specific place. You want her to stay alive. So use a big office building, something that has shopping on the lower levels and multiple businesses on the floors above. The Hanson Building would work. Gregg Tripp has his offices there. Tell her to turn herself in on Sunday afternoon. The business floors will be empty. She takes the elevator or the stairs to the fifteenth floor. She walks to Tripp's office. She comes into the room and puts her hands on her head. You open the door, step into the room, and handcuff her. You have security cameras in the elevator, stairs, hallway, and office. You keep her away from windows. You give her lots of places to hide, and a lot of time to get into the building by the avenue of her choice. She comes to you. You can even make the time Sunday afternoon at her discretion, she just calls the VP to say she's coming to the agreed upon office before she enters the stairs or elevator. My guess, she'll have tucked herself away on a higher-level floor the day before and come down to the meeting place. If it all goes wrong, you can close the floors above where the public is at and possibly contain her by blocking stairs and locking down the elevators.”

The VP nodded. “If you can identify such a building to use in a few key cities, I can work with that. Let her choose the location, but have it be that simple. She comes to you. If she wants her own plan, she'll have to give it to me in detail, and then call me back for what you want to reply.”

Arthur nodded. “Let's find a building that suits us in five cities—Los Angeles, Chicago, Atlanta, New York, and Denver, something with an attached parking garage, easy public access, and at least fifteen stories.”

Paul could work with it. “Sam, as soon as the letter is in the mail, I want you and Rita to stay with the VP and on that phone. We have to assume she's going to lift this reply as she's done all the others. I need you there to monitor the phone. I'll
stay on the package and try to monitor its delivery. The call is the most important point.”

Three days later, Paul took Sam's call. “Yes, Sam.”

“The phone is ringing.”

Paul looked at the monitor. “The package hasn't been picked up.”

“If it's not a wrong number, she's got it.”

“Tell the VP to answer the phone, and go with the plan.”

Sam muted the phone. He came back on moments later.

“It's her. The VP answered the call, nodded to me, and walked into his office to have the conversation.”

“I'm heading upstairs to Suite 906. I'll put together a conference call. Put the VP on it as soon as he's done talking with her.”

“Will do, boss.”

The VP joined the conference call twenty minutes later. “It was an interesting call. She's proposing her own when and where. This Friday three a.m., at the Chicago Mercy Hospital cafeteria. It's closed at one a.m. and opens again at six a.m. The doors are electronically locked and unlocked from the security office. She wants you to unlock the staff kitchen entrance door by the cancer institute elevators ten minutes before three and relock them ten minutes after. She'll walk in alone and take a seat. You come in and handcuff her there. The tape will be in the hospital somewhere. She wants a brief conversation with me, she will tell me where the tape is, and she wants me in the room when she says who is on the tape and I give that tape to you. I would suggest I pick up the tape while you safely transfer her to this building, and we have that conversation about the tape and who she names in a secure conference room here.”

Paul looked at Arthur, who nodded. Paul agreed. “We can arrest her, leave the hospital by ambulance, and move her to this building in a very short time with minimal risk.”

“When is she calling back?”

“Six hours.”

“Let's go check out the hospital layout. We'll get back to you, sir.”

The hospital looked more promising than Paul had first thought. There were no patient rooms nearby. In the middle of the night, the offices along the hallways leading to the cafeteria would be closed. The cafeteria itself was large with more than fifty tables.

“Let's keep this simple. We set up in the security office to watch her arrive. Once she's inside, we put two guys outside every door. I walk in with Sam behind me, cuff her, and based on what it looks like we have a short conversation here before we move her.”

It was a simple plan, but they still went over it so many times that when the clock finally began to tick toward Friday, three a.m., the need to have it over was adding to the layer of nervous energy. Paul put Rita in the security office and waited with Sam in the office nearest the cafeteria doors. “We're ready, Rita.”