The Last Day

FORTY-ONE

The driveway guard called ahead so that when the doorbell rang, the occupants of the McCarty home knew who was at the door. Gene had left and Leslie was out running a list of essential errands for Natasha.

“Agents,” Ward said, after opening the door. “Come in.”

Agent John Mayes nodded at Ward and Natasha, but Bill Firman looked like a man who was there for a colonoscopy Mayes wore a wedding band, wingtips, and a cheap suit. Firman had an expensive haircut and manicured nails.

As Todd, Natasha, and Ward watched from a few feet away, the two agents inspected the hide on the hill. While Mayes looked at the same things Firman was looking at, Mayes looked at the McCartys as often as he looked at the hole, the binoculars, the cigarette butts, and the diamond sharpening stone. Finally Firman took out a handkerchief and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. It was ninety- seven degrees and there was not the slightest breeze to stir the leaves.

“So who, or what, is Gizmo?” Firman asked.

“No idea,” Natasha said. “He, or it, didn't introduce himself.”

“All I know is what everybody knows. That word is slang for electronic devices, widgets, thingamajigs,” Ward said.

“Is that a fact?” Firman asked. “And you didn't know this hole was out here?”

“No, I didn't,” Ward said.

“Then you wouldn't know how long it has been here?”

“No,” Ward said. “We rarely come up here.”

“Like to collect firewood in the fall?” Firman mused.

“We buy firewood in the fall,” Natasha said.

“We don't even own a chain saw,” Ward said. “And we like our trees standing.”

“So, Mr. Hartman, you didn't get a good look at this person who scurried out of the hole and fled through the woods?”

“No,” Todd said. “I saw a light reflection. I thought it was probably a cameraman sneaking shots. I called for backup, and Bixby Nolan and I converged, but the subject was already running away. I couldn't close on him. He seemed familiar with the terrain, because there's no path, and he was very fast and agile.”

“Maybe it was a raccoon,” Firman said flatly.

“Your sarcasm is uncalled for, Agent Firman,” Natasha said sternly. “Someone has been using this hole to watch our home, which I would think might be of interest to you. Todd Hartman found listening devices in our home, and it's very likely we have been systematically drugged by someone, perhaps the person who was in this hole. If you aren't going to take this seriously, we'll call the actual police. I think they will be more open to investigating this than you seem to be.”

“Digging a hole, scratching on the walls, and watching your house. Not federal crimes,” Firman said, shrugging. “Who knows who planted those bugs, but breaking and entering even to plant eavesdropping devices and drug liquor supplies are also not federal crimes. And drugs would be easy for you to get your hands on. I saw the toy casket you let your child have. So, I suggest you do call the sheriff, or maybe you could hire a really good private investigator.”

“We'd never seen that casket before and it was not anything our son would have had. We would have seen it in the room. Whoever was in this hole must have planted it to freak us out and your people found it before we did,” Ward said angrily.

Todd glared at Firman. “My excuse, if I needed one, is that I've only been working on this for a day. You've got the FBI lab and a lot of support personnel behind you. Maybe we should ask the attorney general to send some actual FBI agents to investigate.”

Firman laughed, but Mayes didn't. In fact he appeared thoughtful.

“Agent Firman, there's a medical term that fits you,” Natasha said.

Ward knew what was coming because he'd heard this come out of her mouth once before, and he would have said something if he'd thought her contribution might be counterproductive, but he didn't think it could be.

“And what would that medical term be, Doctor?” Firman asked.

“Hemorrhoid.” Her delivery was perfect.

Mayes laughed.

Firman didn't.