Dog Tags

CHAPTER 88

BILLY DOESN’T WANT TO GO OUT FOR A BIG BREAKFAST. He also doesn’t want to have a beer, or go to a park, or see any friends. He wants to go directly to my house, because that’s where Milo is.

On the way he asks me to tell him what has gone on, and I tell him I will when we get home. For the time being I describe how Milo saved my life last night.

He smiles and says, “I know what that feels like. He saved mine when I got back from Iraq.”

We pull up in front of the house, and I tell Billy to hurry up and get inside. I say this because Milo is at the window, clawing at it and going nuts at the sight of Billy, and I’m afraid he’s going to come crashing through.

I open the door and let Billy in first, and Milo re-creates the flying-dog trick he did on M. Except this time he’s not after anything in Billy’s hand; he’s after Billy. They roll around on the floor for a while, with Billy laughing the whole time. Tara looks at me as if wondering who these two lunatics are on the floor.

Laurie hears the chaos and comes downstairs, laughing when she sees Billy and Milo. I wait until they’ve calmed down before introducing her, since she and Billy have never met.

Laurie makes pancakes, her specialty, and Billy inhales them in Marcus-like fashion. “I never thought I was going to have food this good again,” he says.

Billy pauses chewing long enough to again ask me to fill him in on everything he’s missed relating to his case. I do that in some detail, only leaving out the parts about the FBI’s being on the murder scene that night, and the jury tampering. I promised Benson I would keep that to myself, and I don’t want to jeopardize the financial payoff I’ve arranged for Billy.

“So it’s over?” Billy asks.

“Yes. You’ll be fully exonerated today.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t mean my case. I mean the operation they were running.”

“I think so, but I certainly can’t be sure. And I don’t think Benson agrees, though he’s not in a position to just assume the best.”

“I agree with Benson,” he says.

Laurie nods. “So do I.”

“Why?”

“Two reasons,” Billy says. “One, there’s a lot of money that’s been made, and a lot more to come. If Landon and M were alone at the top of this, then that money has no one to collect it, and no one to spend it. In my experience money is always surrounded by people.”

“And the second reason?” I say, though I am formulating my own.

Laurie provides it for him. “Erskine. He doesn’t figure. If he was bad and in on it, then he would have no reason to blackmail them; they were his money source and there was plenty to go around. If he wasn’t bad, then who recruited the other soldiers?”

Billy nods. “Right,” he says, though I already knew that. “There’s got to be someone else, someone who could get to Erskine’s people, who also has the smarts to handle the financial end of this.”

It hits me like a ton of bricks. I know exactly who that someone is. My mind is racing such that I can barely hear Billy continue.

“You know who worries me right now?” he says, but doesn’t wait for an answer. “Greer.”

I grab the phone, in the moment deciding which of two crucial phone calls I should make first. I call Willie, but again his phone goes to voice mail. I leave another message, this time far more urgent.

As I’m dialing the second call, I say, “Laurie, please Google ‘Everett, Massachusetts’ right away. I want to know what industry they have there.”

“What am I looking for?” she asks.

“You’ll know when you find it,” I say, as she rushes over to the computer.

I call Benson, but he’s not in his office and not answering his cell phone. I leave a message that it’s absolutely urgent that he call me.

When I get off the phone, Laurie is getting up from the computer. The look on her face says it all. “Everett has one of only five liquefied natural gas terminals in the United States. It’s where the tankers dock.”

That is exactly what I was afraid of. “Shit,” I say, substantially understating the case.

“The terminals are considered prime targets for a terrorist attack.”

“Shit.”

“It’s only four and a half miles from Boston.”

This time I don’t say shit.

I say, “Willie.”