Both Ends Burning (Whistleblower Trilogy Book 3) (12 page)

The door opened behind me and Cross finally came in. He took off his sports coat, then laid it carefully on the back of a chair. He unbuttoned the bottom of his sleeves and rolled them up, keeping his eyes on me the whole time.

He pointed at my face. “Where did you get that bruise on your temple?”

“Jogging accident. Wasn’t looking where I was going, and I smacked into a stop sign.”

He nodded, then folded his hands and set them on the table. “And now, here we are. Looks like I should have written up that warrant when I had the chance.”

“They still would have killed Alan. He knew things.”

“How did you find out he’d been let out on bail this morning?”

“I didn’t. Who bailed him out?”

Cross sat at the table, sighing at me. He looked worn and tired, and I could see the markings of sweat stains poking out of his underarms.

“Aren’t you going to take out a folder with a bunch of black and white pictures and lay them out in front of me?”

He shook his head. “This isn’t a joke, Mr. Candle.”

I blushed, cursing myself. “I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

“Where were you between ten o’clock this morning and noon?”

My brain froze. I didn’t want to tell him I was trying to buy a gun from a gangster on Colfax, but I had to tell him something. Something he’d believe.

His eyebrows raised. “Do you not know where you were?”

“I was downtown.”

“And what were you doing downtown?”

“Buying some weed from a guy I know on Colfax.”

“You were buying marijuana? Why didn’t you just drop by a dispensary?”

“It’s cheaper to buy it from this guy. Taxes, you know.”

“So, if we were to search your house or your car, would we find a baggie stashed somewhere?”

“No. I changed my mind and threw it out on the way home. At the dumpster behind McDonalds. It was crappy weed anyway. Not worth the money.”

Cross took a notepad from his shirt pocket and clicked his pen. “This guy you bought it from, what’s his name?”

“I don’t know.”

“You referred to him as a guy you know, but you don’t know his name? Does that seem strange to you?”

I swallowed hard and moved my shaking hands under the table. Cross was too good at this. “I said I know him, but it’s not like I go over there to watch Broncos games and we shoot the shit. He’s got a tiny little apartment above a boarded up bar near the Tattered Cover bookstore. I go in, buy my weed, then I get out.”

Cross scribbled notes. “If that’s true, then why did it take you two hours to do it?”

“Traffic.”

He scribbled more. “Take me through the timeline, please.”

“I could do that, but that’s not what’s important. I can tell you exactly who killed Alan and hung him from my stairs.”

He set the pen on the table. “I’m not interested in your theories. We have a dead body in your house, Mr. Candle. I’m only interested in what happened.”

An ache swelled in the back of my head. I ignored his
just the facts
routine and pressed on. Didn’t care anymore. I wanted the truth out, and Dad’s and Susan’s warnings weren’t going to scare me. No more dead bodies. No more carnage. This would stop here and now.

“It was IntelliCraft, the company I used to work for.”

Cross glanced at the mirror, at whoever was standing back there. “And why would this company you used to work for kill your neighbor and hang him in your house?”

“To slow me down. To destroy my sanity. I don’t know. Who bailed out Alan this morning?”

“I don’t know, and if I did, I wouldn’t tell you that. It’s not your concern.”

“I know things about them that could get a lot of people in trouble.”

He leaned forward and flashed his eyes at me. “Mr. Candle, before you say anything else, I think I should advise you that this conversation is being recorded. You’ll want to think carefully about what comes out of your mouth next.”

My pulse skyrocketed. That seemed like a warning, and maybe despite all my vetting of Cross and his seemingly legit background, maybe he did work for IntelliCraft. But, if this conversation were being recorded, then he couldn’t stop me from saying what I needed to say.

No more gag order.

“They’ve been selling software and hardware to terrorist countries for two decades. Weapons guidance systems, specifically.”

He breathed out, flashing a glance at the mirror. “That’s a mighty serious accusation.”

“It’s true.”

“And I assume you have evidence of this?”

“I did, but someone destroyed it.” Susan, specifically, but I didn’t feel the need to bring that complication into the conversation.

He sat back and chewed on the inside of his cheek for about thirty seconds. “So, you don’t have any proof to back up your wild theory?”

“Not yet, I don’t.”

“Well, then, you’re in a bit of a poorly leveraged position, aren’t you?”

***

Two hours later, they let me go. Despite the fact that Alan’s body had been discovered in my house, they didn’t have enough evidence to charge me. He’d been killed by blunt force trauma to the head, and the murder weapon had been found in his house. No prints.

But my real saving grace had happened halfway through the conversation, when a cop came in and handed Cross some photographs. Traffic cameras had put me at Speer and Colfax right about the estimated time of death. So, Cross let me go, but only after another hour of going over my statement about the events that led to Wyatt Green’s death. Again.

And Cross still wouldn’t tell me anything about an FBI investigation into IntelliCraft, or if one even existed. His strange looks and ominous warnings suggested that he had some secret squared away. I’m sure that, like everyone else I knew, there was a good chance he wasn’t who he said he was. Probably on IntelliCraft’s payroll, just as Shelton had been.

No matter what, one more person had died and I was nowhere closer to exposing the truth. Another body added to the count, and for what? How many more would have to die before it was all over?

I felt for Alan’s parents. They’re kidnapped, held captive in a warehouse somewhere, then their son is arrested, and finally, he’s murdered. All in the span of a few weeks. If I made it out of this alive, I’d have to visit them. Tell them their son wasn’t a bad man.

If only Detective Cross had worked with me, I’m sure I could have proven that whoever bailed Alan out of jail was tied to IntelliCraft somehow. Maybe Frank Thomason himself had put up the money. It didn’t make sense for Susan and my dad to kill him just to scare me, so it had to have been the company.

I sat out in front of the police station in the late afternoon as Rodrick pulled into the lot. I could see the look of worry on his face as soon as he parked.

I slid into the passenger seat of his car. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing, buddy. Everything okay?” he said.

“My next door neighbor turned up dead. The police thought I did it, but I didn’t. It’s all cleared up now.”

“Tucker Candle, you lead the most chaotic and fascinating life of anyone I’ve ever met. It’s not even a contest.”

I wanted to laugh or make a joke, but I was too tired. My head felt cloudy. Too much swirling around, too many questions. “Maybe so. But I’m ready for it to all be over. I don’t want this chaotic life anymore.”

“You deserve better than this.”

I thought about it, and I wasn’t so sure. I could trace some of what had happened directly to my actions, or my inactions. “Rod, am I a terrible person?”

He frowned, swiveling in his seat to look at me. “Why would you say that?”

“Grace’s sister thinks I’m terrible because I keep running away from Grace. I’d like to say that all this stuff I’m doing is for her, but Janine’s right. I abandoned her to go to Texas to save a man I’d never met, and it didn’t even matter. I should have stayed home with my wife.”

He chewed on this for a few seconds. “I don’t think you’re a terrible person. I think you’re doing what you have to do. I visited her a couple times last week while you were in Texas. She’s a lot stronger than you think.”

I hadn’t known he’d made house calls to see Grace. “I appreciate you looking out for her. I do. I feel like I’m struggling to keep my head above water all the time. I’m not cut out for this kind of cloak and dagger stuff, and it’s asking so much of her to stay patient while I’m out here trying to fight a losing battle.”

He nodded. “You have to make sacrifices sometimes for the greater good, you know? She understands that.”

“I hope so.”

“So what’s our next move?” he said.

While I’d been sitting alone in that interrogation room, I’d invented one last plan. It was a long shot, but I didn’t have a wealth of brilliant ideas to choose from.

I studied him, saw the determination on his face. I opened the plastic baggie with my confiscated possessions and took out one of the prepaid cell phones. Checked the time. “I have an errand to run. I don’t think it’s illegal, but it’s probably not a smart idea. Do you want to give me a ride somewhere?”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

We parked across the street from the IntelliCraft building in the Denver Tech Center and waited. With a clear view of both the front entrance and the parking lot that led to the back entrance, we watched the sun’s movement reflect off the mirrored glass exterior.

As the work day was ending, scattered groups of twos and threes left from the front and back entrances. In the old days, you’d see two hundred people make a grand exodus from those doors. Now, the trickle of people numbered only in the dozens.

We waited in silence for twenty minutes.

“How’s your son?” I said.

“Noah’s good. He’s a good kid, for the most part. Drives me crazy a few times a day, but that’s parenting.”

I bobbed my head a few times, thinking about what it must be like to have to raise a teenager.

“It’s worth it, though,” Rodrick said. “Are you getting excited to be a dad?”

“Everything that’s happened lately has put a lot in perspective for me. When they took Grace, it made me realize how I’d had blinders on, and could only think about myself. I don’t think I was prepared for it before.”

“And now?” he said.

“Now I’m ready, but I just hope I can still get the chance. It’s not a certainty anymore.”

The silence resumed for a few more minutes.

“Who are we looking for?” he said.

“She’ll be coming out any minute.”

We’d follow her, coerce her, do whatever it took to get her to set up a meeting with Thomason. Somewhere I could control the outcome. Force Thomason to give up some piece of information I could use. There had to be a way to get back on track and find new evidence.

Then I saw her. Alison and Thomason himself walked out of the front entrance together.

“There she is. My old boss. And that’s the son of a bitch who threatened us.”

I considered that maybe we should follow him instead to cut out the middleman, then demand a meeting. Or maybe he’d see through that tactic and refuse to come to me on my terms. If I lost control, then there was no point.

She leaned over and touched his arm, and they both cast glances around the parking lot. They were the only two present. She kissed him deeply, and he wrapped his arms around her.

“Interesting,” I said.

“What?”

“Alison is married, but that’s not her husband. Actually, you know what? This is perfect. Even better than what I was thinking.”

New plan: put some fear into Alison. Make her communicate that to Thomason, then that might spark him into taking me seriously, if he thought she was in danger.

Not that I would harm her, but Thomason didn’t have to know that.

Rodrick started breathing heavily through his nose. I glanced at him, but he averted his eyes and wiped his hands on his pants.

“You okay?” I said.

“I’m fine. It’s just, uh, this espionage stuff makes me a little anxious.”

“I’m no expert at it either. I’m making it up as I go along.”

“So what do we do now?”

“We need to follow her. She’s in that Benz.”

Rodrick blinked a few times and started up his car. As Alison left the lot, we followed her, and I reminded him not to get too close. He was fidgety and uncomfortable, repeatedly adjusting the rearview and side mirrors.

“What’s going on with you?” I said.

“It’s nothing. I mean, it’s not nothing, but it’s something I don’t know how to say. I tried to tell you the other day, but I couldn’t get the words out.”

We turned onto the highway. I figured he was going to tell me he wasn’t comfortable with what we were about to do, and I was already thinking of ways to persuade him. Or if not, I could do this alone.

“Just go ahead and say it.”

“Every time I’ve tried to tell you, I didn’t, and that only made it worse. Like keeping a lie inside that grows and festers over time.”

“Okay, Rod, say whatever you need to say. You’re freaking me out.”

He took a deep breath and it came out in hiccuping snatches. “I’m in love with your wife.”

Rodrick’s statement was like being smacked in the face with a frying pan. In the next lane, a truck honked at a little sedan that had just tried to cut into its lane. Both the drivers gave each other the finger.

“Okay,” I said, not quite sure if I’d heard what I thought I’d heard.

“I’m so sorry that I’ve kept this from you. I’ve never laid a hand on her, never done anything inappropriate at work, but I’ve been in love with her for years. Ever since she came to work for me.”

“Okay.”

“We’re just friends, you have to believe me.”

Alison changed lanes, put on her turn signal. I pointed. “You’re losing her.” My voice sounded distant, disconnected.

He switched lanes, casting an uneasy look at me.

“Does Grace know?” I said.

“I don’t think so. I’ve never said anything to her.”

I could have responded any number of ways to this. A jealous man might have cracked him across the jaw, then called up Grace and accused her of having someone else’s baby. But I’m not the jealous type. At least, I don’t think of myself that way.