“Apparently, they don’t check on those sorts of things at shooting competitions. And Hedgelin said that the guns are all in Sarah’s name.”
“But it’s still likely a major factor in Vale wanting to keep the last task force team out of his house. In addition to his dislike for the government, that is.” Sarah Vale had gotten increasingly agitated the more time that had passed. She’d obviously wanted them gone before her husband arrived. When pressed, she’d told them that she and Walt had spent the night with friends in Middleburg two nights ago. Jaid had already made a call to the couple in question and verified the Vales’ whereabouts. Overall, she would have counted the trip to Purcellville a bust. If not for the poster of Newell.
An idea occurred to her. A slow smile crossed her face.
Noting it, Adam said, “I learned a long time ago not to trust that expression.”
“We could be at this all night. But it occurs to me that we know one person who could make our lives easier and tell us where to find the photo we’re looking for.”
There was the glimmer of an answering smile on Adam’s face. “Scott Lambert.”
Assistant Director Hedgelin gazed at the legal-sized copy they’d made of Senator Newell’s campaign poster and looked as though he’d tasted something particularly foul. “And you’re absolutely sure about this? Because anyone can Photoshop a few pictures together and make an explosive and completely false new product.”
“You can verify it with Transparent Campaigns, which is a nonprofit with the stated mission of looking over campaign speeches and visuals, and cutting through the rhetoric to evaluate the truth of the particular message. They keep records going back two election cycles.” Jaid didn’t think it was necessary to tell him that Lambert had told them where to look. It was a good guess that Newell wouldn’t have been forthcoming if they’d asked him for a copy of it.
“We saw an original at Donald Vale’s house,” Shepherd put in. “Two years ago it was widely distributed, at least among constituents who would approve of Newell’s stand on second amendment rights. The caption on the poster quotes the senator as talking about the type of rifle he’s carrying and the number and model of other weapons he owns. He’s shown with the exact same type of rifle as the one that killed Justice Reinbeck. He has a long history of animosity toward the judge. We can’t afford to ignore that just because of who he is.”
“I’m not suggesting we ignore it,” Hedgelin snapped. “But getting a warrant for a sitting U.S. senator’s home isn’t going to be quick or easy. That’s assuming, of course, that I can convince the director and a judge that we have cause.”
“Of course, we have cause,” Jaid started. Her words died abruptly when Adam skewered her with a look. She understood the enormity of the decision about to fall on Hedgelin’s shoulders, but she was wearying of the need to tap-dance through the political minefields. It took a moment to swallow the words she wanted to utter and reach for a measure of diplomacy. “We’ll wait to hear what you decide.”
She held her tongue as they made their way out of Hedgelin’s office. Down a couple floors to the conference room they had recently vacated. But once there she could remain silent no longer. “That warrant better come through.”
“It’ll come through,” Adam assured her. He didn’t share her level of agitation. But then again she couldn’t recall a time when she’d seen him rattled.
With the exception, perhaps, of the other night in front of Harandi’s house. Why the memory would pick that particular time to ambush her she couldn’t say. She’d successfully dodged it for the last several days.
Even if she’d not always been quite as successful at banishing the taste of his mouth on hers during the long, lonely hours of the nights.
He hadn’t made a move since that was less than circumspect. But there was a renewed awareness between them. A current that snapped and sparked to life at the oddest moments. She’d intercepted a couple odd looks from Shepherd lately, as if he, too, had picked up on it.
Or the entire thing could be in her head. Adam had proven once before that he was more than capable of setting aside emotion. Of carving it from his life with the precision of a surgeon. This time Jaid wasn’t going to be the one left raw and hurting. She’d developed her own self-preservation instincts over the years. She’d had to.
They sat nearly silently in the conference room, all of them poring over the newest information in the case file today. Shepherd was scribbling notes and making what looked like a chart at the other end of the table. The sheer volume of the material included in the online file made her sympathize with the intelligence analysts whose job it was to compile the information on the reports and fold it into the appropriate places in the case file.
And after a couple hours of studying the latest additions, her sympathies solidified.
“Page four hundred eighty,” Adam said in a quiet voice. Her gaze flashed to him then back down at the computer. She scrolled to the appropriate page and scanned it. Then backed up to read it more slowly. “The cyber unit was able to retrieve one of the messages that Lambert says was sent to his computer but then seemed to disappear afterward. It was embedded in the memory. A copy of it is on the page.”
Tom Shepherd looked up, interest alight in his blue eyes. “Shows what I know. I thought the guy was making it up, but in any case there are plenty of online programs that allow you to send self-destructing e-mails. Most even have commands you can set, controlling the ability to print or forward the message or setting the time for it to vanish. The programs must have gotten more high-tech if the cyber crimes unit was only able to recover one, though.”
He would know, Jaid acknowledged. He’d come from the elite unit himself, years ago. “But the creator of that cell phone spyware was way ahead of what could be bought commercially. It’s possible he also came up with a better self-destruct e-mail messaging system.”
“It occurs to me that there’s a fairly easy way to determine if Lambert authored the message retrieved by the cyber techs. Have a forensic linguist take a look at it, compare it to his written statement, and see if they match.”
Jaid looked at Shepherd. “Okay. I imagine the bureau has linguists at Quantico.”
Adam’s attention had drifted back to his screen. “They do. But I have the top forensic linguist in the country working for me. Macy Reid. Stole her away from California’s Bureau of Investigation and Intelligence a few years back. She was instrumental in helping us find the kidnap victim in that case we worked last January.”
“Maybe Hedgelin already has someone on that.” Jaid took out her phone and called the man. Got no answer. She left him a voice mail, but another thought had occurred. She looked at Adam consideringly. The assistant director was likely neck deep in selling a warrant on Newell’s home to his superiors. He wasn’t likely to be answering anytime soon.
“I wouldn’t mind taking another run at Lambert. See if maybe he has any other written communications that he didn’t tell us about.”
Shepherd frowned. “What’s the point? We’ve already got what we need to compare the two, right?”
“We could double-check with Sanchez, too. Maybe there was a note enclosed with the thousand Lambert paid him.”
The other agent looked at her quizzically. “Wouldn’t he have told us that before?”
“We didn’t ask. And he became much more talkative once he got to lockup, remember?”
Adam surveyed her for a moment. Then he rose. “Jaid could be right. It doesn’t hurt to check it out. We’ll likely wait hours to hear one way or another on the Newell warrant. It may not even come through until tomorrow.”
Shepherd looked torn. “I think we should remain here, just in case.”
“Why don’t you stay? We’ll run over to the Alexandria federal holding facility. Lambert and Sanchez are both being housed there for now. You can call us if there’s news, and we can meet if needed.”
“That works, I guess.” The agent looked back down at his notes. “I’m in the middle of something here anyway.”
“All right, then. Keep us posted of any developments.” The door closed behind them, and Jaid walked silently beside Adam to the elevator. “I’ll drive. I think I’m a bit closer than you are in the garage.”
The double doors opened noiselessly. They stepped inside. Were joined by a clerk pushing an empty coffee cart. Jaid and Adam moved to opposite corners for the duration of the ride. But when they reached the main level and headed toward the front door, Adam picked up the conversation where it left off. “My car’s more comfortable. I’ll drive.”
She managed, barely, to avoid rolling her eyes. “Whatever.”
“You just need to tell me where we’re really going before we reach the car.”
Jaid couldn’t prevent the tiny smile that threatened. Most of the time she hated being so transparent to the man. But there were times when it could be an advantage to have his thoughts so attuned to hers. “It was when you mentioned the forensic linguist,” she admitted. “It occurred to me that we can kill two birds with one stone. Why not drop by where your latest would-be assassin is being held, too. What’s his name, Ferrell?”
They headed out into the bright sunshine. The temperatures had done a fickle about-face and climbed thirty degrees in the last couple days. In November that was a gift, and one Jaid welcomed.
“I’m not following. What do you hope to accomplish by talking to Ferrell?”
She shot him a sideways glance as they rounded the corner toward the bureau’s employee parking garage. “Don’t play obtuse. Not with me. Ferrell claims whoever hired him referred to himself as LeCroix. Then lo and behold, Scott Lambert now says he’s John LeCroix’s son. That didn’t seem a wee bit coincidental to you?”
“Let’s put it this way. I don’t need to provide Hedgelin with any more ammunition to scream conflict of interest and get me removed from this case.”
The breeze ruffled his hair. Jaid jammed her free hand deeper into her pocket to squelch a ridiculous urge to smooth it. “Maybe Hedgelin doesn’t need to know.”
She felt the heat from his intense stare before she met it. “What? I’m not suggesting coloring outside the lines here. We go through the channels and make a formal request for the written communication received by Lambert to be matched with his written statement. Text of both can be found in the case file. You can be up front about it and tell Hedgelin you submitted it to your own forensic linguist. It’s not like that damages the evidence in any way.”
“Macy has actually conducted classes at Quantico in the past,” he murmured, as he walked beside her. “Her name would be familiar to them. She’s widely considered one of the national experts in her field.”
“Even better. So how can Hedgelin fuss about using her? He can still run it by the linguists in the labs for a second opinion. But this way you can figure out once and for all if your case and the one we’re working have any more in common that a long-dead man’s name.”
At his silence she reached out a hand to tug on his sleeve. “You need that information. It will help protect you in the future. You can’t pass up a chance to get a better idea of who might be targeting you and why.”
“I don’t want to place you in a bad position with the bureau.”
Irritation filled her. She dropped her hand and resumed walking. “Don’t be ridiculous. At any rate we don’t need to make a decision about how to handle this until and unless we actually know there’s something to compare. You know where Ferrell is locked up?”
“The Adult Detention Center in Manassas. He’s being held without bond.”
She pulled her phone out of her pocket as they entered the parking garage. “I’ll call and let them know we’re coming. On the way there I can put a call in to Sanchez. But I doubt he has any written communication from whoever bought the cardinal’s security code from him. There was no reason to risk it.”
There was a small smile playing along Adam’s mouth. “So that suggestion in headquarters was just to discourage Shepherd from tagging along?”
She was already bent over her phone. “It would have been difficult to explain a trip to see Ferrell to him, but I’d have thought of some reason to have him wait in the car.”
“You’ve become more devious over the years. A trait that really doesn’t get enough credit.”
“I’m a woman in a male-dominated career.” She found the number she was looking for. Dialed it. “I use the tools required to level the playing field.” By the time Adam had unlocked his vehicle and she’d joined him in it, she already had the superintendent at ADC on the line. Before they exited the garage, she’d acquired permission to see Ferrell as soon as they arrived.
“Just so I have this straight, I’m not going to Alexandria at all?”
“I’m putting a call in for Sanchez next. Is it okay if I just have one of the deputies ask the question for us?” She took the lift of his shoulder as agreement. “I don’t want to overbook us in case that warrant comes through sooner rather than later.” She refused to contemplate the prospect of a judge refusing to issue one. Surely the recent high-profile murders outweighed the possibility of ticking off a highranking member of Congress.