The Cat Dancers

58

“Look in a mirror’?” Jay-Kay said. “If I look in a mirror, I see myself.”

They were sitting in the living room of her Charlotte apartment. Cam and Mary Ellen had convoyed back to Triboro and met with Bobby Lee and Steven Klein. The sheriff had been as interested in what she had to say as in what Cam had told him. Then the three of them, minus the DA, had all gone down to Charlotte at the request of Special Agent McLain of the FBI’s Charlotte field office. Cam had briefed McLain on events up in Carrigan County. McLain took notes without comment, as did two other special agents who sat in. Cam was a little uneasy at the fact that the feds weren’t saying anything, but Bobby Lee did not seem too worried about it. They’d broken for coffee, and McLain had disappeared for a few minutes. He’d come back and suggested quietly that Cam, Mary Ellen, and the sheriff meet him at Jay-Kay’s apartment in an hour.

Cam was still sore from his encounters with various river rocks and had to get up and walk around while he talked, but the fever, thankfully, had gone in the night.

“It was practically the last thing he said,” he told them. “He was pretty much delirious by then. That damned thing gutted him.”

The sheriff was visibly upset about losing Kenny and even more upset that Cam had had to leave his body up there in the mountains. He’d asked Mary Ellen if there was any chance of doing a body recovery, and she’d said not until late spring. And by then, of course

…

“Did he positively admit to you that he’d helped to execute those two robbers?” McLain asked.

Cam nodded. “His brother built the chair and did the deed, but Kenny steered him to those two guys. I suspect he may have helped more than he said, but we’ll never know now. He was adamant about the bombing being someone else’s work, though.”

McLain frowned as he considered what Cam was telling him, making Cam wonder how high his own name was on McLain’s suspect list. “And the chair?” McLain asked. “Where is that?”

“Out there somewhere. Marlor said he’d told the people who helped him where it was.”

“Okay,” the sheriff said. “We have two possibles, based on Ms. Bawa’s research. Neither of those men has been injured lately, by the way.”

“The cell was supposedly limited to seven members,” Cam said. “We have two possibles, plus Kenny and Marlor. That leaves three unaccounted for. One of them could be the injured party. Jay-Kay, did your search go after that data, too? Line-of-duty injuries, medical leaves?”

“It did and it didn’t,” she repliled. “Medical information is in a more privileged category than time, leave, and attendance records, but I believe the state office in charge or medical insurance is going to help me with that.”

“Do they know that?” the sheriff asked.

Jay-Kay just smiled. The sheriff didn’t pursue the matter.

“Back to this mirror business,” Cam said. “Let’s assume Kenny was telling the truth.”

“Why start now?” the sheriff asked grumpily.

“Deathbed confession?” Cam suggested. “He had nothing to gain from lying. He swore they didn’t do the bombing at Annie’s house. And then he said, ‘Tell McLain: Look in the mirror.’” He turned to McLain, who was staring absently at the floor. “What do you think he meant, Special Agent?” he asked.

McLain looked up at him suddenly. “What did you just say?”

“I said, ‘What do you-’”

“No-the sergeant’s words.”

“Tell McLain-”

“Yes,” he said. “That makes more sense. Earlier you said tell ‘them.’ Damn, damn, damn!”

Bobby Lee leaned forward. “There’s a second cell?”

“And?” McLain said, a sick look in his face.

“And this one’s federal,” Bobby Lee replied. McLain nodded slowly.

“This isn’t news, is it?” asked Cam from his position near the window. “You already suspected this, didn’t you?”

McLain hesitated and then nodded again.

“Which is why you went radio-silent on us all of a sudden.”

“I had the same problem the sheriff here did,” McLain said. “I didn’t know whom I could trust. Those agents at the meeting today? They’re here from Washington on temporary duty. After you told me about the bombing, I got our Professional Standards people into it.”

“When I was doing a Web scan for James Marlor connections for your office,” Jay-Kay said to McLain, “they told me not to bother with federal connections, that he wasn’t in any of the various nationwide criminal databases or even AFIS. Said they’d already looked. I never did verify that.”

McLain groaned. “He’d have to be in AFIS,” he said. “He’d been in the service. Everyone in the military gets fingerprinted.”

“In your searches, Jay-Kay, did you stay exclusively in the state system?” Cam asked.

She nodded.

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on here?” Mary Ellen said.

McLain ignored her. Cam thought the special agent looked as if he were facing bureaucratic execution, and maybe he was. Vigilantes in a sheriffs office was one thing, but in the Bureau? “This thing is worse than I thought,” McLain said. “Here’s what I suggest: Jay-Kay, can you let Ranger Goode stay here with you? I don’t think she should go back to Triboro right now.”

“Why would she be any safer here in Charlotte?” Cam asked.

“Because you lost Sergeant Cox,” McLain said. “People are going to be pissed. And they saw her come in with you.”

“Why would I be in any danger at all?” Mary Ellen asked.

“You probably aren’t, Miss Goode,” McLain said. “But until the sheriff and I get a better fix on who’s involved in this mess, I’d prefer to have you nearby. Sheriff Baggett, are we agreed on that?”

“Absolutely,” Bobby Lee replied. “You obviously think the two cells knew about each other?”

“Yes,” McLain said. “And that would be a lethal combination, wouldn’t it. What I really wonder about is whether or not any of our people did this cat-dancing thing. I’m visualizing the people in our office, and I can’t think of anyone.”

“It might not involve your people,” Cam pointed out. “It could be ATF, DEA, CIA, you know, any of them.”

The meeting broke up, with Mary Ellen agreeing to stay there at Jay-Kay’s apartment while Cam and the sheriff went back to Triboro. McLain promised to be in touch the following morning with a proposed plan of action.