The Scarecrow

SEVENTEEN: The Farm

The three agents comprising the FBI Electronic Evidence Retrieval team had commandeered the three workstations in the control room. Carver was left pacing behind them and occasionally looking over their shoulders at their screens. He wasn’t worried because he knew they would find only what he wanted them to find. But he had to act like he was worried. After all, what was happening here was threatening the reputation of Western Data and its business across the country.

“Mr. Carver, you really need to relax,” Agent Torres said. “It’s going to be a long night and your pacing back and forth like that will only make it longer-for you and us.”

“Sorry,” Carver said. “I’m just worried about what this is all going to mean, you know?”

“Yes, sir, we understand,” Torres said. “Why don’t you-”

The agent was interrupted by the sound of “Riders on the Storm” coming from the pocket of Carver’s lab coat.

“Excuse me,” Carver said.

He pulled the cell phone out of his pocket and answered it.

“It’s me,” Freddy Stone said.

“Hi, there,” Carver said cheerily for the benefit of the agents.

“Have they found it yet?”

“Not yet. I’m still here and it’s going to be a while.”

“I go ahead with the plan then?”

“You’ll just have to play without me.”

“This is my test, isn’t it? I have to prove myself to you.”

He said it with a slight note of indignation.

“After what happened last week, I’m happy to sit this one out.”

There was a pause and then Stone changed directions.

“Do those agents know who I am yet?”

“I don’t know but there’s nothing I can do about it right now. Work comes first. I’m sure I’ll be available next week and you can take my money again then.”

Carver hoped his lines fell within the bounds of poker talk for the listening agents.

“I’ll meet you later at the place?” Stone asked.

“Yes, my place. You bring the chips and beer. See you then. I gotta go.”

He ended the call and dropped the phone back into his pocket. Stone’s hedging and indignation was beginning to concern Carver. A few days ago he was begging for his life; today he didn’t like being told what to do. Carver began to second-guess himself. He probably should have ended it in the desert and put Stone in the hole with McGinnis and the dog. End of story. End of threat.

He could still do it. Later tonight maybe. Another two-for-one opportunity. It would be the end of the line for Stone and a lot of other things. Western Data would not be able to withstand the scandal. It would close and Carver would move on. By himself. Like before. He would take the lessons he had learned and begin again somewhere else. He was the Changeling. He knew he could do it.

I’m a changeling, see me change. I’m a changeling, see me change.

Torres turned from his screen and looked at Carver. Carver checked himself. Had he been humming?

“Poker night?” Torres asked.

“Yeah. Sorry for the intrusion.”

“Sorry you’re missing your game.”

“That’s okay. You guys are probably saving me fifty bucks.”

“The bureau is always happy to help out.”

Torres smiled and the other agent, the woman named Mowry, smiled, too.

Carver tried to smile but it felt phony and he stopped. The truth was, he had nothing to smile about.