If I Should Die (39 page)

Ricky picked up the line, using it to guide him back to the mine entrance, giving Sean and Lucy a moment of privacy.

Noah’s voice barked over the radio, “Report!”

“I have her,” Sean said. “Lucy is safe. Bobbie Swain is dead. Give me a minute.” He needed to just hold her. It had been close, too close.

Lucy clutched Sean, didn’t want to let him go.

“I don’t want to die without you knowing how much I love you,” Lucy said.

She had finally said it, and though her entire body was shaking from fear and adrenaline and shock, her heart was no longer gripped by the fear of loving Sean. Her uncertainty was gone.

“I love you, Sean Rogan. I’ve always known it, but was too scared to say it. Still, you stuck with me.”

They had issues they needed to talk about. Their lives were not safe or simple; they were dangerous and complex, and either of them could die at any time. This week had proven that—trouble found them. But they loved each other, and that had to mean something. It had to be stronger than their differences, more important than their egos.

Sean stared at her, wiping dirt and blood off her face. His expression was almost as if he hadn’t heard her. “Luce—”

“I never want a day to pass where I don’t tell you how I feel,” Lucy said, holding his face in her hands. “You know the truth, you always have.” She kissed him lightly, looking him straight in the eye. “I love you, Sean Rogan,” she repeated.

Sean pulled her to him and kissed her fiercely, passionately.

She lost her breath again and almost forgot where they were.

He leaned back, pulling her with him, resting against the tunnel wall. She didn’t know if she could walk—her leg throbbed from where Bobbie had stabbed it, but the cut wasn’t deep, just painful. Sean’s heart beat rapidly against her palm. Then he smiled his impish grin in the pale glow of the flashlight and said, “I knew you’d come to your senses soon enough and admit that you’re deeply and madly in love with me.” His thumb trailed from her chin down her throat.

His voice cracked when he said, “I love you, too, Princess. And neither of us died today. I’d say it’s a win-win all around.”

FORTY-TWO

Two days later

Sean and Lucy walked into Albany FBI headquarters Tuesday afternoon. Sean was glad to finally leave Spruce Lake, confident that Tim and Adam Hendrickson could move forward on their resort. In light of the continuing police presence as local and federal authorities shut down the drug business and raided multiple buildings, seized several tons of marijuana, and removed all related computers and files, the brothers decided to postpone the resort opening until next year. Tim believed his financial knowledge and collateral would help bring redevelopment money into the area, and Adam planned to simultaneously open separate Boy and Girl Scout camps, something their father had dreamed about. They vowed to work closely with the people in town to develop a viable tourist area. Tourism wouldn’t bring in the big money of drugs or gunrunning, but it also wouldn’t get the townsfolk killed or imprisoned. Already, residents were calling Tim to thank him for standing up to the Swain family and for the first time in their lives, they felt both safe and hopeful.

Sean suspected the coming changes weren’t going to be easy and nothing would be quite the same. But with enough people committed to rebuilding the foundation of Spruce Lake on legal businesses, there was definite promise.

After the adventure in the mine, Sean had hidden Lucy away in the cabin while Noah coordinated four law enforcement agencies that descended on the Adirondacks by dawn—the sheriff, FBI, DEA, and ATF. Every agency sent a dozen or more people, and Sean wanted nothing to do with the initial interviews and justifications. Noah’s ability to organize the disparate groups into a unified team highlighted his military officer training, and Sean grudgingly admired his skill. He was more than happy to pass on any credit—or criticism. Sean just wanted to spend as much time alone with Lucy as he could. He’d never get tired of hearing her say
I love you
.

Their idyllic two days were over. They were called to Albany for a debriefing, and then would head home.

Lucy introduced Sean to the well-groomed Brian Candela, a stereotypical “suit” in the FBI. But his eyes were sharp and his manner professional. “We spoke on the phone the other day,” Candela said.

“Good to meet you, sir.” Being in this building made him uncomfortable, but Sean was trying to be polite and diplomatic for Lucy’s sake.

“There are just a few of us in the conference room. Marty and Dale went up to Spruce Lake Sunday, will probably be there for a few weeks as they
weed
through all the facts and fiction.” Sean grinned at Candela’s obvious play on words, feeling more comfortable than he had when he first walked in.

Noah was sitting at the table with an older agent introduced as SAC Hart, a young woman, Agent Tara Fields, on loan from the cybercrime squad, and a secretary who typed on a steno machine like a court reporter.

“I know you’re eager to get home,” Hart said, “so we’ll make this as quick and painless as possible. Agent Armstrong has already written his report, so we have most of the information we need.”

Sean caught Noah’s eye, but couldn’t read his expression. Sean stood by every decision he’d made. But there were some things he didn’t want in any official record.

Fortunately, the questions were straightforward and related solely to the facts. It took them not much more than an hour to recount the events from when he and Lucy first arrived in Spruce Lake to Bobbie’s death in the mine.

Hart dismissed the secretary. “The official part is over. Off the record, I wanted to tell you that ATF Agent Omar Lewis is on official leave. ATF wasn’t happy about it, but I insisted. He acted with complete and total disregard for your lives, contrary to all training and protocols. I suspect, however, he’ll be back after an internal audit.”

While Sean was still furious about the sniper incident, he’d developed an understanding and even some respect. “When the bad guys win one time too many, sometimes we have to bend the rules to stop them.”

“Bending the rules, yes. Breaking them?” Hart shook her head. “Nevertheless, ATF is livid that they lost Sampson Lowell after more than a year of field work and twice that in research. However, we’re sharing everything we learn from those we arrested and the files we seized. Hopefully they’ll get him next time.”

Lucy asked, “What was in Jon Callahan’s safe deposit box? Was it incriminating against Bobbie Swain as we’d thought?”

Candela nodded. “That and much more. First, all the evidence and files Victoria took from the office were in the box, including the tape of Bobbie Swain’s interview in Miami where she turned on her brother. We’ve sent it to the Behavioral Science Unit at Quantico for further analysis, hoping we can learn something from her performance to help us in the future.”

Lucy said, “She was certainly a unique personality, but she was also a cold-blooded sociopath.”

Noah said, “I’ll get you clearance to review the tapes, Lucy. You’ll probably see something no one else did.”

Sean glanced at Noah, agreeing with the Fed but wondering why he chose to lavish the praise on Lucy now. Then he dismissed his flash of jealousy. It didn’t matter what Noah’s feelings were, if they were professional or personal. Lucy loved Sean, and that was all he needed.

Candela continued. “The box also included a journal Callahan had kept recounting his early drug smuggling days with Paul Swain when they were teenagers. There was a falling out between him and Swain because Callahan had originally gone to law school to become a criminal defense attorney to represent Swain; while in college, Callahan decided to put it all behind him. He lived in Spruce Lake part time in order to keep his eye on things, but he knowingly turned a blind eye to the drug operation. After Swain went to prison, Callahan moved back permanently. But when he realized Bobbie Swain was behind it—and had covertly taken over her brother’s operation—he worked out a deal with Swain to get inside her operation. Swain wanted his sister dead, and Callahan wanted her influence gone.”

“And then she brought in Sampson Lowell,” Lucy said. “Raising the stakes and the danger.”

“Joe Hendrickson learned of the gunrunning plan—Callahan was unclear how—and he went to Callahan to do something. They agreed to contact the ATF, but at the same time Bobbie Swain’s people found out what Hendrickson knew and poisoned him, having the doctor rule it as a heart attack. Callahan went to the ATF to speed up the investigation, and that’s when Omar Lewis was sent undercover to work as the cook at the Lock & Barrel. Only Callahan knew Lewis was law enforcement.”

“I’m still unclear why Jon Callahan brought Agent Sheffield in, and why she didn’t inform your office,” Lucy said.

“The first part is easy—you were absolutely right that Victoria met Callahan while investigating the pirated DVDs in Canada. They started seeing each other romantically. After Joe Hendrickson was murdered, Callahan told her everything. By this time, Lewis was already in place. Victoria thought if she reported what she knew, she’d be called off because it was an undercover ATF operation at that point.”

“And she would have been,” Noah interjected.

Candela nodded. “She still should have filed a report. There was nothing else about her in Callahan’s notes until last December when she brought Callahan the files and evidence on Bobbie Swain. She’d been looking into Swain on her own, and coupled with the information she knew through her boyfriend, she came up with a plan. Apparently, the first meeting Lowell had with Swain was on January second—and Victoria got it in her head that she needed to be around to protect Callahan, who was playing the dangerous informant game with the ATF.”

Sean asked, “How did Bobbie know she was an agent?”

“She didn’t—Sampson Lowell did. He had scouts in town once he decided to work with the Swain operation. Apparently, his intelligence is exemplary. When he uncovered Victoria’s identity, he canceled the meeting and told Swain to take care of it. She sent him proof that Victoria was dead. Lowell waited four months to ensure there was no increased police presence or chatter, then rescheduled the meeting for this past Sunday. Swain was providing storage and distribution channels for his gunrunning operation into Canada. It was a megadeal. If all went well Sunday, the guns would have been in the warehouses by midnight.”

“And now Lowell has disappeared,” Sean said.

“He’s not our concern,” Hart said. “He’s ATF’s problem.”

Sean disagreed. Sampson Lowell was
everybody’s
problem. But he kept his mouth shut.

“What’s going to happen to Ricky Swain?” he asked.

“We’re recommending leniency, and Detective Dillard is helping smooth things over with the prosecutors to give the kid probation and wipe his record when he turns eighteen. The Hendricksons aren’t filing charges and Tim Hendrickson offered to serve as the boy’s guardian. Dillard thinks they’ll get what they want.”

Sean was relieved. That someone was willing to step up and help Ricky meant he had a real shot at a future.

“We may have some follow-up questions,” Candela said, “but we’ll run them through Agent Armstrong. Again, thank you. Because of you, we know what happened to our field agent, and we can move forward.”

After final good-byes, Noah walked Sean and Lucy out of the building. “I’ll be returning to D.C. late tonight,” he said. “Take the rest of the week off, Lucy. You can start fresh next Monday.”

“Thank you, but if you need me to come in tomorrow, I—”

Sean cut her off. “
Monday
morning, Luce.”

Noah smiled. “Monday is soon enough. Good work all around.” Noah looked directly at Sean as he spoke. “This was a dicey situation and a testament to your skills that we all came through without major injury.”

Sean was surprised at the clear compliment. “I appreciate that, Noah.”

Lucy let out a breath and Sean glanced at her. She wanted everyone to get along, especially the people she cared about. He might not like that Noah was important to Lucy, but he loved Lucy. Sean vowed to make a real effort with the Fed.

Sean broke the awkward silence. “Now, there’s the matter of you getting my plane shot down.”

Noah nodded soberly. “I thought you might be a little upset, so I’ve taken care of it.”

Sean couldn’t hide his surprise. “I don’t get it.”

“I called in a friend of mine, a former Air Force mechanic who now works at Lockheed. He’s flying in this afternoon to take your plane to his shop.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Sean said in all seriousness.

“I know.” Noah extended his hand. Sean shook it. Then Noah grinned broadly and winked at Lucy. “You never know when I’ll call in the favor.”

Sean returned the good will. “Anytime.”

For the Sacramento Valley Rose

You were with me from the start. Thank you all for
your support, encouragement, and friendship.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Though writing is a solitary profession, many people help with the details. I want to especially thank those who helped make the details so much richer in this story.

First, Rench of the band Gangstagrass and Tomasia who granted permission to use their lyrics to lead this story. I bought the album after hearing the intro to the television show
Justified;
the songs inspired me and set the tone for this book.

Thanks to Joel Margot with Argus Thermal Imaging Products who answered my many questions regarding air surveillance. The extraordinary Margie Lawson and her husband, Tom, who lent me their expertise about aircraft. The Sacramento FBI regional office is always willing to help, especially Special Agent Steve Dupre, media liaison and all-around great guy who responded to the most arcane questions I could come up with, including researching the history of badge numbers. And also FBI SWAT Team Leader Brian Jones, who let me role-play in a variety of training scenarios, including a recent medic-training session, which helped tremendously for the field-medic details in this book. If I got anything wrong, it’s my own fault.