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  “But how—” I began.

  “Look, I was so addicted—the dose it took for me to be high was way bigger than what those guys needed. Once they were out, I was supposed to look for stuff.”

  “What kind of stuff?” I asked.

  “Well, it depended on who it was. If the guy was Homeland Security, I might be instructed to look for one certain thing, like what threats were being taken seriously. Or if it was someone on foreign affairs or the subcommittee on terrorism, I had to come back with something or they’d beat me—or worse.”

  I sat dumbfounded. Not only was darkcloset.com in the business of selling humans, they were in the business of selling secrets.

  “Walk me through this, Brady. You get a call to meet up with a client.”

  “A John.”

  “A John,” I repeated. “But before you go, you’re given specific instructions on what to look for?”

  Brady nodded. “I would have to memorize their phone and email password before I met with them for the night. Then once I got them high or knocked out, I would read their phones or laptops—their confidential emails and texts.”

  “What were you looking for?”

  “Whatever they’d told me to look for. Listen, I’m not smart, I know that. I just did what I was told and as long as I did, they wouldn’t beat me as much and I could have food.”

  “Jesus, Brady.”

  “I know,” he said. “I’m a horrible person.”

  “That’s not what I meant. I can’t believe they treated you the way they did.”

  “They treat everyone like that and I am a horrible person.”

  “Why?”

  Brady’s bottom lip began to quiver and his eyes welled with tears. “You know the attack a couple of months ago—the one in the outdoor café in San Francisco?”

  I nodded, thinking of the seventeen people who were gunned down outside a coffee shop on a Sunday afternoon before the killer turned the gun on himself. “What about it?”

  “That happened because of me.”

  I leaned back into the seat of the van, unable to process what I was hearing. “Brady, that happened because some crazy-ass guy with an automatic weapon decided he could do whatever he wanted. That had nothing to do with you.”

  “You’re not listening to me,” he said, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I helped him plan that—I mean I didn’t know it at the time, but I helped all the same. They were tracking someone—I gave up the name. I saw where the john had information on a planned attack was to take place, so I told on him. The guy with the gun knew the government was on to him and changed his location to another place. A place that wasn’t prepared.”

  “Let me get this straight. These politicians think they’re buying sex and after they’ve gotten their rocks off, you drug them and rifle through their emails and phones looking for secrets? Homeland security secrets?”

  Brady nodded, wiping a tear from his cheek. “Anything really.”

  “This is espionage—treason.” Astonished, I rubbed the stubble on my face, trying to wrap my head around what was taking place. “Once they know your John has intel on a planned attack, the terrorist organization feeds our government disinformation,” I said picking up a red plastic cup from the seat beside me. “So the real threat is here,” I said, taking a quarter from my pocket and placing it on the opposite side of the seat. “But they’re preparing for here,” I said, touching the cup.

  Brady nodded. “Like I said, I’m not very smart—I know that—my stepdad always told me I was stupid, but—”

  Reaching over the seat. I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Your stepfather was wrong, Brady. You’re smarter than half of the FBI and CIA, son.”

  Brady remained silent, and I began to drum my fingers on the back of the cracked vinyl seat. “Holy shit,” I mumbled.

  “I told you. You should’ve left me behind. They’re going to find me and kill me and when they do, they’ll kill you, too.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Not today.”

  It was nearly ten o’clock when I loaded up the jet. Micah sat with Fuller and didn’t seem to mind—at least she didn’t make an inconspicuous face at me. When he patted her twice on the knee, I knew that at the very least, lust was in the air. Elias saved a seat in the back—not for Rory, but Frankie, who was now in jeans, sweatshirt and a ponytail. She was back to being the kid I knew. Chops and Brady sat up front and I smiled at the kid. He looked scared. He had every reason to be. Right now he was not only on darkcloset’s kill list, he was more than likely on the same kill list that took out Senator Storm.

  I sat next to Rory, who had on his lap, three pizza boxes.

  “Hungry?”

  “Always,” he said, taking a piece out of the box, folding it in half to take a bite. “Want some?” he mumbled through his partially masticated food.

  I shook my head. “But the others might.”

  “Oh yeah,” he said, standing to pass the boxes. “Sorry, dudes. I was hungry.”

  “You’re always hungry,” Elias quipped.

  “Sir,” the flight attendant called out over the sound of the engine from her own jump seat. “You need to take your seat, please.”

  “Sorry, guys.” Rory handed the pies to me to buckle up again.

  We were off the ground and on our way within a moment or two. Rory stood to pass out pizza again, finally handing what was left to the flight attendant. “Hi, I’m Rory. What’s your name?”

  “Rory?”

  He turned to look at me and I shook my head no.

  “Fine,” he snapped, sitting in a huff next to me.

  “Tell me everything we know for sure and don’t leave anything out,” I said, looking him square in the face. Rory liked to joke, but he knew what we were doing was deadly serious.

  “Well, it’s not good.”

  “That part I think I’m fully aware of. Look, your dad has always been the kind of guy who does the right thing. When we were in college and a young girl was assaulted by one of our fraternity brothers—one with a very influential father I might add—your dad stood up for what was right and turned the guy in. There was no way in hell he wanted to do it, and later on the guy called in a favor, trying to keep your dad from being hired at the NSA. Of course it didn’t work. The NSA needed your dad’s brain more than they needed the old bastard’s money.”

  “Are you trying to make a point?” Rory asked.

  “Sorry. I’m just a little sleep deprived.”

  “We all are.”

  “And I’m ten…or so…years older than you. The point I’m making is this, Rory. I know it’s not going to be easy to turn over what you have. You may be worried about repercussions.”

  “Repercussions? You mean like the boys on the hill calling in a hit on us? Shit, Mac. We deal with that all the time. There’ll be no repercussions because we stay in the background. Our plans are dark and impenetrable as night, and when we move, we fall like a thunderbolt.”

  “Nicely stated. Sun Tzu?” I asked, knowing his quote was from the Art of War.

  “Yup.” Rory turned in his seat to gaze at the now half asleep, ragtag group on their way to Alabama. “I’ll turn all of this over to you, or whoever you want it to go to, but they’re never going to see my face or know who I am. And they’re never going to know how we procured what we did. If they want to follow up and rid Washington of the people who are doing this? Then it’s on their heads.”

  “And if I come forward with the information myself?”

  “Then you’re signing your own death warrant,” Rory said. “Just ask Senator Storm.”

  I nodded. I knew the kid was right.

  “The list isn’t too long, but there are going to be CEOs and politicians in the mix with every day Johns. All I can do is trace the email addresses these assholes are using now that we’ve breached the darkcloset mainframe. Some of them are so stupid they actually used email clients with their own name. Haven’t any of these bozos ever read Orwell? Big
Brother is watching. Everything is traceable—everything. And no one is anonymous.”

  “Not even you?”

  “I’ve never claimed to be anonymous. What I am is invisible.”

  I nodded.

  “So now what happens?” Rory asked.

  “When was the last time you wore a tuxedo, kid?”

  “What?”

  “We’re all getting dressed up for a party. Everyone who’s anyone in Washington will be at my house in Shadeland, Alabama tomorrow night and, as of now that includes all of us.”

  25

  SAMANTHA

  I sat in the front room of Mimi’s house, my legs curled under me like a cat as I read a book. After I’d gone through the same paragraph for what seemed like a half an hour, I tossed it aside, unable to concentrate on anything other than the loaded Glock sitting on the table to my left. I didn’t know if anyone would try to hurt me or Mimi, who was fast asleep in her old room, but by God, I wanted my firearm to fend off any chance of it happening.

  Leaning my head back into the old velvet chair, I closed my eyes and tried to think of something that didn’t make me nervous. I tried focusing on the children, but then I thought of them off the coast of Florida with Celia. I missed them and felt even more anxious. I was failing at keeping calm.

  Two sets of headlights panned across the front of the house, peeking into the window of the room. Picking up the gun, I walked to the back of the house where the cars parked. It was too dark to see the make of the vehicles. My instincts told me it was Mac—but my instincts had been failing me as of late.

  The back door cracked, and I plastered my body against the wall outside the mud room, holding my gun in ready position.

  “Samantha? Honey, the gang’s all here.”

  “Mac?” He walked out of the shadows. “Thank God,” I said, placing the gun on the counter to throw my arms around his neck.

  Picking me up off the ground, Mac squeezed me so tight I couldn’t breathe. He planted a hard kiss on my cheek, his stubbly beard brushing against my skin like sandpaper.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Micah said. “I give you the most perfect couple in America.”

  I broke free of Mac’s embrace to say hello to everyone, ignoring her comment. “Wow,” I said unable to hide my surprise at the sheer number of them. “I guess I didn’t realize how many of you there’d be.”

  Immediately, I hugged Frankie. I’d only met her once, but I felt horrible for what she’d been through and couldn’t help myself. “I’m glad you’re safe. You had us very worried.”

  Sheepish now, she stared at the floor. “I’m happy to be safe.”

  “Sam,” Mac began. “This is Elias Warner, Rory Iverson, Agent Jason Fuller—” Mac took a pause, bringing a young blonde man and an older gentleman from the back of the pack. “And this is Brady Kurtz and Melvin Glass.”

  “Please call me Chops,” Melvin said as he took my hand.

  I felt an unspoken sense of gratitude from both of them as they gazed around at Mimi’s beautiful home. “It’s our pleasure to have you here.”

  Before Mac could mention Micah, I called her out myself. “It’s good to see you, Micah,” I said hugging her stiff body. “Bless your heart. I know you’ve been through a lot these past couple of days.”

  Micah forced a smile and nodded. The sooner I got used to the fact she didn’t like me, the easier it would be for me to tolerate her. Still, I’d always treated her with kindness—no matter how she treated me.

  “There are rooms upstairs—enough for everyone. A couple of you will need to double up, but hopefully that’s okay,” I said.

  “Anything is fine with us,” Chops said, putting his hand on Brady’s shoulder with care.

  “Yeah, I can sleep anywhere,” Brady agreed.

  “We don’t sleep,” Rory said thumbing Elias in the chest.

  Mac looked to Fuller who immediately said, “I’m staying down here tonight. Just to keep an eye on things.”

  Mac nodded and took my hand. Threading his fingers with mine, I felt myself take a deeper breath. I always felt safe when my husband was by my side. “Samantha and I are going back to Lone Oak. I don’t want to raise any suspicions, but I’ll be back in the morning to check in.”

  “Yes,” I added. “I hope you’ll all consider coming to the gala tomorrow night.”

  “What?” Micah’s tone was tight and punctuated. It was clear she had no desire to attend the party.

  “Yes, Micah,” Mac said. “Everyone is going. Samantha is being nice but I’m not. The safest place for all of us is smack dab in the middle of everyone, so that’s where we’ll be tomorrow night at seven-thirty.”

  “And what if I don’t want to be smack dab in the middle of anything?” Micah asked, mocking Mac’s comment.

  Calmly, Mac released my grip and walked to her, placing his hands on each of her shoulders, squaring her to meet him. “Look Micah, I’m telling you the plan. You’ll follow it and not complain. Understand? Until we figure out exactly what’s going on, we’re all in danger and we’re all in this together. Work with me. That’s not a request, it’s an order.”

  “Fine,” she murmured.

  “I think it’s kind of exciting,” Frankie said tossing a glance to the boys in the corner. “I’ll never get to go to a party like this again in my life. I’m in. Except I don’t have anything to wear.”

  “I’ll help with that,” I said with a smile. “Not to worry. You’ll all look like superstars tomorrow.”

  “Great,” Micah scoffed, sarcasm dripping from her red lips.

  Part of me wanted to tell Micah to screw off. She’d dragged Mac into this whole mess and now she was acting like a fractious child.

  “I’m in,” Elias said.

  “Yeah. Me too,” Rory added.

  “I think we all appreciate your hospitality Miss Samantha,” Chops said. “Maybe everyone should turn in for the night. Get a fresh start and a new perspective in the morning.”

  I liked Chops already. His ability to cut to the heart of a matter with only a few words told me he was a sage.

  I walked through them to round the staircase. “Let me show you to your rooms. Follow me.”

  I stopped on the bottom step when a hand touched my shoulder. Turning, I found Brady with his head down, but his eyes turned up at me. “You don’t know how much I appreciate this, Mrs. Callahan.”

  “Brady, the pleasure is mine. C’mon, I’ll show you where you can wash up and get some sleep.”

  Everyone followed me up the stairs and I felt as if I was leading a band of worn out soldiers to the barracks after endless nights of fire in a muddy foxhole. They were weary and wounded, but far from beaten.

  26

  MAC

  It didn’t take Samantha more than fifteen minutes to get everyone settled in their guest rooms. I sat with Fuller, who nervously checked his gun before placing it back in the holster at his side.

  “Are you sure you’re up for keeping watch?” I asked.

  “There is no one else.”

  “You’re right. I know,” I said. “It just seemed like the thing to ask.

  “I appreciate it.”

  “Do you still have everyone’s phone?”

  “The boys have the phones.”

  “Use the house phone to call my burner if something comes up. Also,” I said. “This house is fully equipped with the latest security system. If a raccoon moves outside, you’re going to know it.”

  “I thought people left their doors unlocked here.”

  “They do. But I don’t.”

  A tiny smile erupted across Fuller’s tired face. He was cooked—well done—like the rest of us.

  Samantha came bounding down the stairs with the kind of enthusiasm I was incapable of at this point. “Ready?”

  I nodded.

  “Agent Fuller, the kitchen is fully stocked. There’s a coffee maker in there if you need some and plenty of food in the refrigerator if you want a sandwich. My grandmother, Mari
lyn is upstairs too. She a hundred and one years old but doesn’t like a fuss made over her. She’s got her own routine in the morning, but I’ll be over early.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. We ate pizza on the way here.”

  I wrapped my arm around her tiny waist and led her to the back door. Looking over my shoulder I said, “Call me if you need me. But don’t call me if you don’t.”

  “Those are orders I can follow.”

  When we pulled through the gate at Lone Oak, I was shocked at the number of cars still in the driveway.

  “They’ve been here all day,” Samantha said. “Where do they sleep?”

  “They take shifts. I’m just surprised there are so many of them in the advance team, but your guest list is pretty full.”

  “Except for the one we lost today.”

  “Senator Storm.” I pulled the car into the garage and turned off the engine, not making a move to get out.

  Samantha nodded. “He and his wife.”

  I stared at her. The corners of her eyes crinkled. The stress and exhaustion were showing across her strained expression.

  “I know you say you’re fine, babe. But I’m worried about you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. You and the kids are the most important thing in the world to me. Just because I got wrapped up in this case doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s most important.”

  “I’m…” she paused, dropping her head back in the seat to take a full breath, “fine. You know, meeting Brady tonight really put it all in perspective for me. He’s a casualty of the human trafficking group you’ve uncovered, isn’t he? I can’t even imagine what he’s been through.”

  “Hell. That’s what he’s been through. Pure hell.”

  “You have to know in the beginning when I thought you were merely taking a case to help Micah, I was a little—you know—upset. But now that it’s turned into something so much bigger, well, I understand it all better.”