Deadly Agenda Page 5

  She rolled her eyes. “Please. A golden boy like you probably grew up wanting to be an FBI agent. A badge and a gun. Your mom cried when you graduated the academy, didn’t she?”

  “Didn’t yours?”

  She shook her head. “She didn’t speak to me for a month.”

  Adrian didn’t know what to say to that.

  Megan lifted a smaller bag and slid it over her head so the strap went across her body. The bag rested against her good hip as she wandered to the door. “Your mom probably tells her friends all about you, so you get calls to fix people’s parking tickets.”

  “I’m not a cop.” That didn’t mean it didn’t happen exactly like that, though. “She knows that.”

  Megan chuckled. “Aced all your tests. Broke some records, maybe?” She studied him, so he nodded. She said, “Thought so. The G-man who closes all the cases.”

  “I’m waiting for the downside.” When she glanced at him, he shot her a smile, then said, “I’m also unsure what this proves. Other than the fact you’ve figured out nothing about me that isn’t plainly obvious.”

  “Your favorite color is red.”

  He frowned. “How did you know that?”

  “And when you were married, you didn’t wear your ring.”

  “It was too big.” He’d always meant to go get it resized, but hadn’t ever made time in his schedule. It just seemed like such an incidental thing when he had so much that was more important going on in his life.

  She walked out of the plane and down the steps. Adrian followed. They made their way to the SUV parked close to the hangar.

  The man leaning against the vehicle tossed Megan the keys. “Perkins.”

  “Hernandez.” She turned and tossed the keys at Adrian. He caught them out of the air one-handed.

  “You drive. I’ll navigate.”

  The man by the SUV smirked. “Happy hunting.”

  Megan nodded her head, then tossed her bag on the back seat and left the door open so he could do the same.

  “Friend of yours?”

  Megan shrugged. “We contract out some things, on occasion.” She got in the front passenger side.

  Adrian went around to the driver’s door and got in. She already had her phone loaded with directions to the hospital. He said, “You think he’ll still be there when we show up?”

  Megan buckled up, her attention out the window. “I doubt it. I figure he’s long gone.”

  “On a flight out?”

  She scrunched up her nose in a type of shrug. “I’d buy a beater car if I was him. Or steal one. But mom will be occupied with web searches and making phone calls, trying to find him regardless.”

  Things that wouldn’t necessarily draw the blackmailer’s attention. Or give anything away.

  “Keeping her busy?”

  Megan shrugged. “She wants to help.”

  And Megan had to balance allowing her to be part of her daughter’s life with keeping her safe.

  Adrian figured the blackmailer knew what they knew about Zimmerman regardless of Megan taking that precaution with the email. They had to assume as much. Which meant the blackmailer knew they were in St. Louis, and that they were headed for the hospital to retrieve whatever “message” had been left for them.

  Adrian pulled out and headed for the exit. “You okay?”

  She was looking out the window again. “Just can’t shake the feeling someone is watching. And I don’t like having a target on my back.”

  Chapter 6

  “You think this might be a trap?” Adrian parked the car in an empty slot at the back of the hospital parking lot.

  “I’ve learned the hard way to assume everything is a trap.” Megan shoved the door open. The sun was bright, the air cool and crisp. She grabbed her jacket off the back seat, mostly so it would cover the gun on her hip. She wasn’t here as an agent. Adrian needed to take the lead.

  She was going to focus on their surroundings. Otherwise her thoughts would drag her down in the idea that Zimmerman had a relationship of some sort with El Cuervo.

  Together they headed for the lobby and found the right floor. The nurse had given a room number for the sick child, but Megan wanted to talk to the woman who’d sent the email first. They needed details, along with whatever message was left for her. And the less they could bother a sick child, the better—as far as she was concerned.

  Megan rapped her knuckles on the counter at the nurse’s station. The woman looked up. “Help you?” She leaned her big body back in the chair.

  Megan smiled. “We’re looking for a nurse, Patricia Carlton.”

  “That’s me.”

  Adrian pulled out his badge. “I’m Special Agent Walker, this is my associate, Megan Perkins. We need to ask you a few questions about the man who visited your patient.”

  The woman’s countenance immediately fell. “José isn’t doing well. He slipped into a coma about thirty minutes ago.”

  “He did?” Adrian’s question came right when Megan opened her mouth to ask the same thing. The kid was in a coma? They needed to know if he’d conveyed the message to anyone—his mom, or one of the nurses—before he went unconscious. This would change their plan of action.

  After the nurse nodded, Megan said, “Was anyone in the room around the time he slipped into the coma?”

  “His mother was.” The nurse glanced between Megan and Adrian. “She’s been by his side for weeks.”

  Megan nodded. If they wanted to be completely sure, they’d need to look at surveillance. Make certain no one who shouldn’t have been in the room had entered. She glanced at Adrian, who gave her a short nod. They were in agreement then. And he knew what she’d been asking.

  It was possible the coma hadn’t come naturally as a result of the illness. Someone could have forced the child’s body into the coma. Hurt him, so he couldn’t tell them anything.

  “Did you see the man?” Adrian asked her.

  The nurse shrugged. “He seemed familiar. Like maybe I’ve seen him somewhere before.”

  Maybe on the news? Zimmerman’s face had been broadcast on TV and social media over the past day. If she’d been online at all, she’d likely seen his image.

  “I can ask the mom if she’ll speak with you.”

  Megan shrugged. “The last thing we want is to bother her at a time like this, but I’m afraid it’s unavoidable.” She didn’t want to use the word “terrorist,” but she would if she had to. “And if we could look at your surveillance footage that would be great.”

  If a verbal message had been given, they would probably never learn what it was.

  “Let me check with José’s mom,” the nurse said, lifting out of the chair. “She might be ready for a break and willing to talk.”

  Megan thought for a second about the boy. About his life being in danger.

  They needed to put it out there—maybe on the Double Down server—that he’d slipped into the coma before he could tell anyone anything. Then the blackmailer would see it. Megan wanted to make sure he knew the child couldn’t say anything, in the hopes the blackmailer would leave the boy alone. No sick child needed that, and it galled her that Zimmerman had dragged him into this in the first place. It was the last thing that should be on the rogue FBI agent’s to-do list right now.

  After the nurse moved out of earshot, Adrian said, “You should take point with the mom. I’ll get with security about looking at their surveillance.”

  It wasn’t an order, as such, but he also wasn’t asking for her opinion. Adrian was a capable agent, calling the shots. She was a solo flyer. They were going to have conflicts, but right now wasn’t the time to drag out their differences and start a fight. This relationship wasn’t going to last forever, right? After they found Zimmerman—and she got the answers she wanted—Adrian could take him in. She wouldn’t have anything to do with a conviction.

  All she wanted was peace.

  “Megan?”

  She realized she’d been zoning. “That’s fine. If the mom
wants to talk, I’ll do it.” One woman would be less intimidating to a distraught mother than a pair of federal agents. “You check and see if anyone came in or out of that room around the time the kid went into the coma. I want to know if he was hurt. Because if he was, that person should be brought before a judge and convicted.”

  Adrian reached out like he was going to touch her. He looked as though he wanted to say something. Before he could, the nurse said, “She’s ready for you in the waiting area.” The woman slipped back behind her desk. “And I’ll call security, if one of you wants to talk to them.”

  “Thanks,” Adrian said. He glanced once at her, and then he walked away.

  Megan found the mother. A tiny Hispanic woman far younger than she’d imagined. The woman couldn’t be more than late twenties at most. Puffy-eyed, she clutched a balled-up tissue while she sat in the waiting area the nurse had directed Megan to. “Can I get you some tea, Mrs…?”

  “It’s Sofia.” She gave Megan a small, sad smile. “Sofía Gonzalez.” Sofia sighed. “The nurse said you’re with the FBI?”

  Megan nodded. “How about that tea?”

  Sofía shook her head. “I can’t eat anything.” She touched her stomach and made a face that might have been amusing at any other time. “But thank you.” She had a slight accent, her long hair was disheveled, and she wore what were probably yesterday’s clothes.

  Megan figured she looked pretty put together given what she was going through. She sat across from the woman. “A man visited your son, is that right?”

  She nodded. “I was downstairs getting some breakfast. When I came back up, José said a man had visited him. A white man, an FBI agent. That’s what he said.” She almost looked apologetic.

  Megan shrugged, pulling out her phone. She pulled up a picture of Zimmerman and showed it to Sofía. “Have you seen this man around the hospital at all?”

  Sofía frowned. “No. Is that him?”

  “We can’t be certain, but we think so.”

  “Why would a bad man visit my son?”

  “I don’t know,” Megan answered, honestly. The idea Zimmerman had simply been there to deliver a message meant for Megan was bizarre, to say the least. “Did José say anything about what the man said to him?”

  “Not much.” Sofía shifted and pulled out something from the purse beside her hip. “But he said the man gave him this.”

  She opened her hand. Sitting in her palm was a thumb drive.

  “May I have that?”

  Sofía nodded.

  Megan slipped the thumb drive in her pocket. Answers. This was all about answers. Could this be it? She’d been investigating El Cuervo for so long, trying to figure out his identity, trying to work out who had sold her and Will out. Was it Zimmerman?

  The idea he would suddenly just hand her answers didn’t make sense.

  There had to be more going on here than she knew.

  **

  Adrian sat in the swivel chair and watched surveillance footage from the hallway outside the child’s room. Hospital staff. Parents. They scanned through the recorded image, three hours of footage, before he saw the man they were looking for.

  “Pause it, please.”

  The security guard clicked the mouse.

  “That’s him,” Adrian said. “That’s Zimmerman.”

  He opened his email and started a new message to SAC Cromwell, noting the time Zimmerman had shown up. He didn’t send the email to Hank but instead set it on the desktop and left the message open, so he could insert the exact time the man left.

  Zimmerman had entered the hospital room earlier that morning, almost six hours ago now. Adrian kept watching until he walked out of the room and then noted the time.

  He’d stayed for seven minutes and then left. “What did they talk about that whole time?”

  “Huh?”

  Adrian shook his head. “Nothing. Just thinking aloud.”

  “My wife does that.” The man huffed.

  He ignored the man and studied the footage up until the time the boy went into a coma. No one went in or out of the room except authorized personnel. Which meant the likely scenario was that the kid’s Leukemia had done that damage. He was deteriorating, that was all.

  Adrian sent up a prayer for the kid. What else could he do? Nothing, except ask the One in control to give mercy in this situation.

  Adrian wasn’t all that good at mercy. Mostly he figured his role in life was to expect the best out of other people. After all, that was how he treated himself. If they didn’t deliver, he simply readjusted his expectations so that the next time he knew what they could bring to the table.

  He had yet to figure out Megan. One second she seemed eminently capable, and the next it was like she’d been paralyzed. Trauma, most likely. PTSD, probably. Like at Zimmerman’s house when she’d avoided confronting those two men.

  Then other times she seemed like she was dealing well, living her life. But maybe she’d never get over it. And maybe she never should. Life went on. She had however many days God gave her stretched out in front of her to enjoy. She didn’t need to be mired in the past. But honoring the memory of a good man who’d been killed by bad people couldn’t be a bad thing—so long as it didn’t stop her from living.

  His phone rang.

  Adrian stood and said, “Thank you for your time.”

  The security guard nodded. “Sure thing, man.”

  He wandered out into the hall and answered his call. The ID said Double Down so it wasn’t about Zimmerman being here. He hadn’t even sent the email to Hank yet. He wanted to wait and see what Megan got from the mother.

  “Walker.”

  “It’s Steve.”

  “Hey.” Steve Preston was Megan’s boss, the owner/CEO of Double Down. And the only other time he’d called Adrian was the day the RV blew up in Colorado and two of their team members had died. Megan had been injured. Mint had been in a gunfight. Adrian had been the only one to answer his phone in the aftermath. “What’s up?”

  “Where’s Megan?”

  “Interviewing the kid’s mom.”

  Steve sighed. “We know why he chose this child in particular. You need to find her, now.”

  Adrian started walking. “What’s the connection?”

  “The father. He’s connected to El Cuervo, and not in any way that’s good for Megan. We looked into him as much as we could in the short time frame, and we’ll have more soon, but it’s likely he was in Venezuela during the time Megan and her partner were taken. If he shows up, and she pegs him as being there two years ago—whether he was present when Will was killed or not—she’s going to freak out.”

  Adrian crossed the threshold to the waiting area and saw Megan in quiet conversation with a young Hispanic woman. In Megan’s hand was a flash drive. “I’ll call you back. I think she got something from the mom.”

  Adrian hung up before Steve could reply. Then he looked both ways down the hall and at everyone in the room. He didn’t see any Hispanic men. Maybe the wife didn’t have contact with him. But it was in no way a coincidence that Zimmerman, who was himself connected with El Cuervo, had come to the son of an associate of the same man.

  Trying to pull Megan into something that would throw her so deep into the past that she’d be unable to function? Adrian didn’t like this, no matter what it was.

  And how on earth did this have anything to do with their finding the blackmailer?

  Megan glanced over. He tipped his head to the side, and she held up a finger. She spoke softly to the young woman, and then shook her head. Would she be this way with the woman if she already knew the child’s father was part of the same Venezuelan organization that had almost destroyed her life?

  She came over to him.

  “Let’s walk. I think we’re done here.”

  She shot him a glance. “If you say so.”

  He headed for the elevator with her beside him. “Zimmerman was in the room for seven minutes.”

  “He gave the boy t
his flash drive.”

  Adrian wanted to reach for it, instinct probably. He safeguarded evidence. It was his job. But he fisted his hand instead, and she slipped it into the pocket of her jacket. He said, “What do you think is on it?”

  “I don’t know.” She blew out a breath and shook her head. “A manifesto? A confession?”

  He knew she wanted it to be more than that. She wanted an explanation as to Zimmerman’s involvement in what had been done to her. Maybe something about the blackmailer as well. Adrian wanted to ask her what had happened, but it was too early for that. He also wanted to hug her, and promise she would always be safe. Likely she wouldn’t want that, either. Would she ever?

  “Soon as we get to a computer we can find out,” she said. “Then maybe we’ll know where he’s going next.”

  “You think this is a cry for help, and he wants us to catch him?”

  “Maybe.” Adrian stepped out of the elevator first, into the lobby.

  “Okay, tell me why you’re in protective detail mode.”

  He glanced back, one arm out so he could put his hand on the small of her back. She lifted an eyebrow and stopped in the middle of the lobby. “Explain.”

  “I will,” he said. “Once we’re back in the car.”

  “Adrian.”

  A couple of people brushed past them, forcing him to take a step back to give them room. How rude. Adrian pressed his lips together, and when the crowd had thinned he moved closer to Megan. “We need to get that flash drive to a computer. And we need to get you somewhere you’re not exposed.”

  She started walking. “There’s more you’re not telling me.”

  He nodded, then moved to hold the door open for her. “The boy’s father is one of El Cuervo’s men. I don’t want him seeing you if he does come, and I don’t want you here longer than is necessary.”

  “Trying to protect me?” She glanced at him, then scanned the area around them. “How noble.”

  “It’s not nobility,” he said. “If you get hurt, or killed, I’ll be spending a day doing paperwork instead of tracking down Zimmerman.”