The Whole Truth

CHAPTER 91

THE PHONE CALL WOKE FRANK from a sound sleep.

It was the FBI agent they’d been working with.

Frank sat up, already groping around for his clothes that he’d dropped on the end of the bed when he’d turned in. “What’s up?”

“One of the people on the St. Albans list, Richard Pender, was just found murdered in his home.”

Frank’s feet hit the floor. He pinched the phone against his ear with his shoulder while he hopped into his pants. “Sonofabitch!”

“And that’s not all.”

“Yeah?” Frank said warily.

“A neighbor of Pender’s phoned the police; that’s how they discovered the body.”

“Why’d they phone? Did they see something? Pender’s killer?”

“He saw what looked to be two people being carried out of the house and put into a car.”

“Two people! Could they ID them?”

“It was dark. He couldn’t be sure. But the man was big. It took three guys to carry him. And the other appeared to be a woman.”

“Did they see anything else?”

“He got the license plate of the car they were put in.”

“And?” Frank slid into his shirt and tucked it into his pants and then slipped on his socks. “Oh shit, don’t tell me.”

“We traced the plate. It was James’s rental car.”

Frank stuck his feet in his shoes and roared, “What the hell were they doing there? We hadn’t gotten a search warrant yet.”

“Looks like they were doing a little independent snooping.”

“Have the police tracked the car down yet?”

“No. They put out an APB, but nothing yet.”

“Has anyone tried to call Shaw or Katie?”

“Yes. No answer. We sent people to their rooms. Nothing.”

“When did the neighbor phone this in?”

“About two hours ago.”

“Christ! They could be already dead. They probably are already dead. What’s the take on Pender? When did they pop him?”

“Twenty hours ago or more, according to the prelim.”

“Shit, that trail’s cold. Wait a minute, if they killed Pender that long ago, what the hell were they doing watching his house?”

“Waiting for someone to come by?”

“You mean waiting for Shaw and Katie to come by. Just like the funeral in Wisbach. What the hell were they thinking going there?”

“The officers on the scene at Pender’s home said it looked like a burglary gone bad.”

“Burglary my ass. So what’s the story on this Pender? Who is he?”

“He owns a firm called Pender amp; Associates based in northern Virginia. The picture isn’t completely clear, but it seems to be some sort of PR firm.”

Frank called Royce, filled him in, and arranged to meet the MI5 agent in the lobby in five minutes. He grabbed his gun, ripped open the door, and ran down the hall, pulling out his cell phone and punching in a number as he jogged along.

“Shaw and James are in serious trouble. Track him. Now!”

Frank hooked up with Royce in the lobby and the two agents raced to their car.

As they drove off Frank called the FBI agent.

“I want a strike team to hit Pender amp; Associates right now.”

“We don’t have the search warrants yet.”

Frank yelled, “What are the odds of a guy on our list getting popped and Shaw and James getting snatched from the guy’s house not being tied into this whole damn conspiracy?”

“About a billion to one,” the agent admitted.

“So screw the warrants. Nail Pender amp; Associates. Now!”

Yet Frank’s gut was telling him it was already too late. For Pender amp; Associates.

And too late for Shaw and Katie.