The Soul Collectors

45

'Start with the people I met at the Rizzo house,' Darby said.

Casey sat on the edge of the desk. 'I should mention that everything we talk about right now is confidential.'

'I assumed it was.'

'Glad to hear it. Because if any of this information gets leaked, after the Bureau is done with you, I'm going to use every favour I've accumulated over the years to bury you. I don't take too kindly to being blackmailed.'

Darby laughed. 'That's what you're calling this?'

'You've put me in a position where I have no choice but to talk to you. It's the only way I can get you off my back. You've already done enough damage — '

'Stop right there.' Darby felt her anger ride up her spine like a bullet and she stormed over to him and got in his face.

She stared straight into those piercing blue eyes expecting to find something cold and hard. She was taken aback by what she found: a sad weariness, a man who appeared to want nothing more than to go home, lock the doors, unplug the phone and bury himself in his bed.

'Let's get one thing clear right now,' she said. 'I didn't ask to be put in this situation. The New Hampshire SWAT team commander called me. I went into the house and talked to Charlie Rizzo — and it was him, there's no question in my mind. I risked my life, and you and your people kept me locked inside that goddamn quarantine chamber when you knew full well I was no longer a health risk.'

'That was done to keep you protected.'

'Bullshit. You needed time to bury the story about what really happened up north.'

Casey crossed his arms over his chest. 'What do you think the public's reaction would have been if news got out about an attack using nerve gas?'

'A terrorist attack,' she said.

'Exactly. It would have been like 9/11 all over again. Every news outlet from across the country would have been camped out in New Hampshire to report around the clock on an attack on American soil using nerve gas. You were an investigator. You know what it's like trying to work a case while reporters are trying to crawl up your ass. So I came up with the meth lab scenario. Very plausible, happens all the time.'

'How'd you get the locals to sign off on it? Did you have your people pose as army officers? Have them sign forged documents and threaten them with the Patriot Act?'

'Using sarin gas is an act of domestic terrorism,' he said. 'That was our way in. We had to take over the investigation in order to keep your name out of the papers.'

Bullshit, she thought. There was more to it than that.

'From day one,' he said, 'my goal was to keep you safe.'

'But these people somehow still managed to find me.'

'Yes, I know.'

My phone. She had left her iPhone in the lap of the thing with the egg-white skin. All of her information was stored inside that phone. Everything. They must have found it when they cut him loose from the tree.

'When did you plant those listening devices inside my condo?'

Casey looked genuinely surprised. 'You found bugs in your home?'

'Only one, as far as I know,' she said. 'On my kitchen phone. Sloppy job, so it was easy to spot.'

'We didn't do it. I'd like to take a look at that, with your permission.'

'Tell me why you used me as bait.'

'I wasn't using you as bait.'

'Then why would you send me out there without telling me about these people? That they would be watching me?'

'We kept your name out of this. We thought there was no way for them to find you. The mobile command trailer? The tapes were still there and we pulled them.'

'And the body in the ambulance?'

'Gone,' he said. 'They shot the EMTs. I put people on you as a precaution.'

'Federal agents or Secret Service?'

'Both.'

'When were you going to tell me?'

He didn't answer.

'How long?' she said.

'How long what?'

'How long were you going to have people watch me?'

'As long as it took,' he said.

'Because you know these people.'

'Let's just say I've had… experience.'

Darby waited for the details. Casey didn't offer any.

'I want it all out on the table,' she said. 'Right now.'

'If I tell you, will you go to a safe house?'

'No.'

'That's the only way I can protect you.'

'I've seen your people's talents in action. No, thanks.'

'You're not getting it.' Some of Casey's anger resurfaced. He slid off the desk and stared down at her. 'I'm trying to protect you. I've been trying to keep you safe all this time but you keep kicking me in the goddamn face.'

'Then you shouldn't have lied to me.'

His expression softened slightly. 'This group has been — they're dangerous.' He paused, then added, 'Very dangerous. I can't stress that enough. You need to go with the agents to the safe house. Please.'

Casey had delivered the words without the usual cornball melodrama seen in bad TV shows. He said them almost painfully, and she would have forgiven the cheesy pregnant pause — a lame attempt to let the seriousness of his words sink in — if it wasn't for the way he was looking at her right now, this odd, almost paternal expression.

'What do you want?' she said. 'A hug?'

'You don't understand — '

'I understand perfectly,' she said. 'I tried to bait them at the blast site. They installed tracking devices inside my jacket and on my bike. I thought I was being followed by one, maybe two of these people. Turns out they brought six, three of which I wouldn't even classify as human.'

'What are you talking about?'

She told him about hiding in the dumpster, about watching the three people standing on the edge of the woods. Told him about watching these three through her night-vision goggles when the ghoulish-looking creature scrambled to the edge of the crater holding a stun baton. Told him about the thing scrambling down into the crater and into the basement and then coming back up and making that creepy squawking sound in the night air.

Casey should have refuted what she had just said, maybe excused himself and then returned with two psychiatric orderlies holding a straitjacket clinking with buckles. But he didn't say anything, didn't seem at all surprised.

'Why did they want to capture me?' she asked.

'I don't know, which is why you're going into seclusion for a while.'

'You're a bad liar.'

'Come on, let's go.'

'I'm not sitting in a safe house with a bunch of low-grade feds who got stuck babysitting me.'

'What are you going to do? You can't go back to work.'

'I'm going to find Mark Rizzo.'

'He's already dead. If he isn't, he's on his way.'

'Then I'll keep digging.'

'Small problem,' he said. 'You're no longer in law enforcement.'

'Neither are you, but here you are, plucked out of retirement and running the show. Why?'

He didn't answer.

'I've already uncovered evidence,' she said.

That got his full attention.

'What sort of evidence?' he asked.

'I'll turn it over after you bring me on board.'

'To do what?'

'To assist in the investigation,' she said. 'I've seen these people up close. And if you're worried about protection, then move me into the inner circle. I'd be safer, sticking close to you since — '

'Deliberately withholding evidence is a clear charge of obstruction of justice.'

'It sure is. And you can get me locked up for it too.' She snapped her fingers, then added, 'Oh, but then you're back to your original problem of having me speak in front of a judge, and you're not going to allow that to happen. And I'm not going to sit around a safe house waiting for these people to find me — and they will. They found Mark Rizzo, and my guess is they're also looking for you.'

She waited for Casey to speak, to refute what she had just said, but he only sat there, staring.

'I think I know why you're here,' Darby said. 'The real reason you're here.'