The Gatekeeper

Thirty-Three

“Bingo,” Rodriguez said.

“You got something?” Jake crossed the room and leaned over his shoulder. There was an image on his computer screen.

“That’s Burke, you moron,” George said.

“No shit, Sherlock. But check out who’s behind him,” Rodriguez retorted.

It was a society picture from a formal event. Burke had his arm around someone identified as a prominent lobbyist, who apparently was no stranger to Botox. And in the background, on the edge of the frame, was a hulking beast of a man. It was hard to tell from the angle, but…Jake compared it with Dante’s mug shot. It was him all right. Square head like a pit bull, shaven bald, looking wildly uncomfortable in a suit a size too small. “When was this taken?” he asked.

“A year ago, at a GOP fund-raiser.”

“Any idea what Dante was doing there?”

“I say we call this lobbyist and ask.”

“We could fax this over to his office, let his secretary have a gander…”

“For all we know Dante is his secretary. And the higher-ups don’t want Burke to get a whiff of this yet.” Jake looked at them. “Do we run this by Leonard?”

“Fuck Leonard,” Rodriguez said forcefully. “Great thing about lobbyists is that they love getting calls, day and night.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you, Rodriguez.” Jake cracked a smile. “Sorry, George, I have a new favorite agent.”

“I’m all torn up about it.” George rolled his eyes. “Please, promise me you’ll tread carefully. I’m not cut out for the private sector.”

It took all of ten minutes to track down the office number for the lobbyist in the photo, and another five to convince a beleaguered staffer that they needed to speak with him immediately. After outlining what the administration thought of lobbyists who didn’t help the FBI in matters of national security, and how that reflected on pork barrel spending for their clients, a cell phone number was produced.

“Who wants to make the call?” Rodriguez asked, holding up the receiver.

“Dibs.” George put it on speakerphone. The lobbyist answered on the third ring. From the sound of things, there was a full-scale party going on in the background.

“Hello, Mr. Jeffers, this is Special Agent George Fong calling from the FBI. Your name came up in the course of an investigation, and I was wondering if you could help us out.”

“What? My name?” Jeffers voice veered quickly from alarm to a practiced honeyed tone. “I’m sure there must be some mistake. Let me give you the number for my attorney-”

“The investigation actually involves a third party, sir. All we need is for you to identify a man in a photo.”

A long pause. “Well, I suppose that would be-”

“We’d really appreciate the help, Mr. Jeffers. I’m sending it to your phone right now.”

Rodriguez sent the photo, and they waited. Jeffers maintained a running monologue, most of which revolved around damn cell phones and how tricky they were to operate. Rodriguez rolled his eyes, and Jake made a motion for him not to laugh. “Ah, this…this is Jack Burke,” Jeffers finally said. “Just became a senator, you know, after that tragedy with-”

“Right, we know. I’d actually like you to identify the man standing behind Mr. Burke on his left.”

“Oh, all right.” Jeffers sounded inordinately relieved that the investigation didn’t involve a new senator whom he probably had high hopes for. “That guy. I can’t remember his name, he’s just Jack’s bodyguard,” he said dismissively.

“I didn’t realize Mr. Burke needed a bodyguard,” George said carefully.

“Oh, well, I’m sure he doesn’t. My wife and I assumed it was one of Jack’s eccentricities, he’s quite a character. He took him to a few events. You’re right, though. As I always say, you only get mugged at those parties by people like me.” He laughed heartily.

“Thanks for your time, Mr. Jeffers. And if you’d please keep this conversation private for the moment-”

“Oh, absolutely, absolutely.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “I have to say, I’m not surprised to hear the bodyguard’s in trouble. He seemed…rough around the edges, if you know what I mean. I was surprised Jack hired him, he usually has excellent taste in people.”

“Clearly,” George said, before hanging up.

“Nicely done.” Jake clapped George on the shoulder.

“Bodyguard, huh?” Rodriguez said. “Wonder if that means he was on the official payroll.”

“If he was, it’s under a different name,” George said. “I went through all the records, there’s no Dante listed anywhere, not even under the shell companies.”

“So is it enough to take to Leonard?” Rodriguez asked. “It’s a link, but if they’re not willing to smear Burke, maybe they won’t use this, either.”

“Something tells me they won’t have any reservations about throwing someone like Dante under the bus,” Jake scoffed.

“Even if it tips off Burke?”

“Screw Burke. At this point, he should know we’re breathing down his neck. I say we make sure they plaster Dante Parrish’s face across the networks,” Jake said forcefully. The two agents exchanged a glance. “What?” he demanded.

“It’s just…at this point, we should let the Bureau decide how they want to manage things,” Rodriguez said, looking uncomfortable.

“Rodriguez is right, Jake. They might want to keep the search for Dante on the down low. If Burke gets backed into a corner, he might detonate early.”

“Et tu, George?” Jake said.

George shrugged. “I got a job to keep, man. And nobody wants those bombs going off.”

“All right, fine,” Jake said, defeated. “Let’s head over to the big people’s trailer.”

Kelly opened the door of the trailer and was startled to find Jake poised to knock, with George and Rodriguez behind him.

“Hi,” he said. “How’s it going over here?”

“All right, I guess,” she said cautiously. “Did the truck search turn anything up?”

“Um, we decided to go in a different direction.”

“Jake…”

“Trust me, you’re going to like what we have to say.” He glanced past her shoulder, where Leonard was tucking his computer into a case. “Going somewhere?”

“Phoenix, actually. We figure since it’s Burke’s district-”

“Oh my God,” George interrupted. “You’re right, it’s the perfect target. Can’t believe I didn’t think of it.”

Rodriguez groaned at the mention of Phoenix.

Jake gave Kelly a hard look. “Let me guess-invited guests only. And we’re not on the list.”

Kelly shifted uncomfortably at the hurt in his voice. “You said you had something?”

“Can we come in?”

Leonard muttered something under his breath, then waved them in impatiently. “What is it?”

“Wow. You really weren’t expecting us to come up with anything, were you?” Jake grinned. “Nice to be appreciated.”

“Cut the shit, Riley. I don’t have time for it. Our plane takes off in a half hour. If you’ve got something, spit it out.”

Jake glared at him. Kelly half expected him to storm out of the trailer. But after a long second, he handed over a stack of photos, saying, “Your printer sucks, by the way. That’s the best resolution I could get.”

“Who the hell is this?” Leonard asked, holding up the top picture.

Kelly examined it: a mug shot of a skinhead. He didn’t look like any of the guys she’d arrested in Arizona, but it was hard to be sure.

“Dante Parrish,” Jake said. “Burke’s bodyguard.”

“And I care about this why?” Leonard demanded.

“Because we’re pretty sure he was involved in the kidnapping of the Grant girl. And now it turns out he’s linked to Burke.” Jake shrugged. “But hey, if we’re bothering you, we’ll head back to the kids’ table.”

“It makes sense,” Kelly said slowly. “To get the Aryan Brotherhood on board, Burke would need someone to bridge the gap. He wouldn’t have been able to make those connections on his own.”

“I’m willing to bet if you look, you’ll find photos of Burke with someone involved with the Minutemen, too,” Jake said, jabbing the photo with one finger, “and probably some biker gang. But right now, we got this guy.”

Leonard flipped through the stack, settling on the one with Burke in the foreground. “Okay,” he said finally. “It’s something. I’ll put it out on the wire.”

“That’s it?” Jake asked.

“Yeah, that’s it. Now, I’ve got a plane to catch.” He turned to Kelly. “You coming, Agent Jones?”

“One minute.”

“Fine. But any longer and we leave without you.”

Leonard glowered at Jake as he pushed past. Kelly saw Jake’s jaw go rigid and put a hand on his arm. “Don’t.”

“What?”

“I know that look.”

“He would’ve deserved it.” Jake grinned, but his eyes remained serious. “And I don’t love that you’re flying into a city with a bull’s-eye painted on it.”

“That’s why I was going to call you from the plane,” Kelly said, but at his expression she backtracked. “That was a joke. A bad one.”

“You should know better. Jokes aren’t your thing.”

“Apparently,” she agreed, running her hand up to his shoulder. George and Rodriguez moved a few feet back to give them some privacy. “Leonard isn’t much of an outside-the-box thinker. And I want to stop at least one of these attacks if I can. If we catch whoever is in charge in Phoenix, they might know where the other bombs are.”

“They won’t.” Jake shook his head. “Classic cell structure. There probably aren’t many people who know the whole plan. And only a few will be able to connect it back to Burke. He’s had a long time to plan this.”

“Still, I’ve got to try.”

“This is a hell of a last case,” he said, avoiding her eyes.

“Tell me about it.”

Without warning he pulled her in tight to his chest. “I love you, Kelly. Don’t get hurt,” he whispered fiercely into her hair before letting go.

“I love you, too,” she said, managing a weak smile before trotting to the waiting SUV.