Final Sins (29 page)

Not long afterward, the paramedics arrived at the scene and took control of Wyatt’s care, and Tess eased Abby away. For the first time she saw Abby’s face, and it was like looking at a stranger. All expression had drained from her features; all light had vanished from her eyes. Her facial muscles were slack, and her gaze traveled everywhere without registering anything.

She had not said a word since the shooting, and she remained quiet as Tess assisted her into the passenger seat of one of the Bureau cars. Tess did not put her in handcuffs. She couldn’t make herself do that.

“I’m following the ambulance to the hospital,” she told the other agents as she stripped off her body armor and headset. “Abby will ride with me. She may need treatment for shock.”

“We’re supposed to take her to the field office,” one of them objected.

“First she needs medical attention. I’ll take responsibility. You hold on to her purse and her car. If there’s a gun in her purse, we’ll need a ballistics test to see if it matches the round that killed Agent Brody.”

“What about Agent Hauser?”

“He’s in your custody. Take him to the FO. I’ll brief the AD on my way to the hospital.”

She retrieved her laptop from Wyatt’s car, acting automatically, unwilling to let the data fall into the porous hands of the LAPD. When the ambulance pulled away, she followed close behind. The cell phone was already in her hand, though she hadn’t been conscious of picking it up. She hit redial, since the last number she had called was
Michaelson’s
office. This time the secretary put her through without a hassle. No doubt the Nose had been waiting to hear the outcome of the arrest.

“We have Abby in custody,” Tess said without being asked, “but there’s a problem.”

Michaelson
sighed. “There always is when you’re involved.”

She ignored the dig. “Hauser shot the police officer who was assisting us. He was hit in the chest and looks”—she remembered Abby, seated beside her—“well, he doesn’t look too great. He’s en route to the hospital now, and I’m following.”

“Which hospital?”

“Paramedics said it was Olive View. It’s north of the Two-ten Freeway—”

“I know where it is. Who has custody of Sinclair?”

“I do. She’s with me.”

“Why? Is she hurt too?”

“She may be in shock. The cop was her friend.”

“In shock.”
Michaelson
snorted. “She’s malingering. Bring her to the field office.”

“She’s not malingering, and she’s going to the hospital,” Tess said firmly. “But that’s not what I need to discuss with you. Four members of Hauser’s squad are on their way to Westwood right now. They’re bringing in Hauser—in handcuffs.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Hauser shot the police officer. He was aiming for Abby. The shooting was totally unjustified. I saw it, and I will testify to that effect.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“Hauser is dirty, Richard.”

Silence buzzed on the other end of the line for a long moment. “You’d better be able to back up an accusation like that.”

“He was supervising Brody, and Brody was breaking all the rules. An illegal wiretap, for starters. I thought Hauser was just being lax in his oversight, but after what I witnessed tonight, I think he knew exactly what was going on. And I think he authorized Brody to kill Abby.”

“Kill her? He was placing her under arrest.”

“That’s not how Abby tells it. She says he intended to interrogate her and then kill her, and she had to shoot him in self-defense.”

“That’s ... absurd.”

“Is it? From what I’ve been able to gather, Brody didn’t exactly follow the rule book when he was stationed in Iraq. He took shortcuts, and the Bureau looked the other way. Maybe he got used to the idea. Maybe Hauser thought he could count on Brody to take Abby out. When the plan failed, Hauser decided to get rid of her on his own.”

She anticipated an indignant denial of the theory.
Michaelson
could be expected to protect his people. But when he spoke, his voice was soft and thoughtful. “I knew it was a mistake.”

“Mistake?”

“Allowing Hauser and Brody to work together. You’re right about the ... extralegal operations in Iraq. And when a person gets in the habit of breaking the law, it becomes hard to stop. I suppose your friend Sinclair could tell us something about that.”

Tess said quietly, “So you suspected something was wrong?”

“Not specifically. I had no evidence. I just worried about the ramifications of those two teaming up.”

“Did you ever raise your concerns with either of them?”

“I couldn’t. Not without some solid basis for suspicion. What I did was curtail Hauser’s responsibilities. I gave him lower-priority cases. I told him it was because I was disappointed in his handling of Medea. That was partly true, but mainly I was worried about his influence on Brody, or vice versa.”

She remembered Hauser’s words in the corridor outside
Michaelson’s
office. “By telling him he was paying for Medea, you gave him the impression his career had stalled out because of me—and Abby. He blamed us, Richard. And since he couldn’t go after me, he tried to take it out on her.”

“I had no way of anticipating that development,”
Michaelson
said, shifting instantly into defensive mode. “Anyway, we have yet to establish that your version of events is true.”

“But you
will
look into it?”

“Of course I’ll look into it. You think I would tolerate this kind of behavior from a subordinate? You think I would look the other way?”

“No, Richard. I really don’t. It’s no secret that I don’t like you. To be quite honest, I think you’re an asshole.”

“McCallum—”

“But,” she pressed on, “I
don’t
think you would tolerate corruption. In fact, I’m sure you wouldn’t.”

“Well ... thanks for the vote of confidence.” He said it with sarcasm, but she could tell he was secretly pleased. “Let me know how things work out at Olive View. And if Sinclair’s story is true, she’ll get a fair shake from me.”

They reached the hospital, set in the dusty foothills north of the freeway. Tess followed the ambulance to the ER entrance. She parked at a red curb, trusting the FBI seal emblazoned on the doors to prevent the sedan from being towed.

She opened the door, and the overhead light came on. In its glow, Tess saw that Abby’s face was streaked with silent tears.

“He’ll be all right,” she said gently. “He’ll pull through. You’ll see.”

Abby said nothing at all.

Tess showed her credentials to get her gun through the metal detector and into the ER. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t just left the gun in the car. Perhaps after seeing Wyatt shot, she felt the need to keep protection close at hand. She’d brought her laptop, too, though she was getting tired of lugging the damn thing around. She couldn’t risk letting it be stolen.

“We have to find you a doctor,” she said, steering Abby through a crowd of people, mostly indigent, filling every available seat in the cramped waiting room.

Abby’s voice was low. “I don’t need treatment for shock.”

“I’m not so sure. Those are the first words you’ve spoken since ... since it happened.”

“I just needed time to ... I just needed time. And I needed to be here, in the hospital. Don’t even
think
I’m going to leave until Vic’s ... until he’s okay.”

“It may not be possible for me to hold off a trip to the field office too long.”

Abby turned to face her. “If you try to take me out of here before I know Vic’s condition,” she said softly, “I’ll kill you.”

“I’m armed, Abby. You’re not.”

“Do you really think that matters?” Her eyes were colder than any Tess had ever seen—colder than a serial killer’s eyes.

Wyatt had been taken into surgery. An orderly escorted them to a waiting room on another floor, outside the suite of operating rooms. This area was empty of people. A TV set, tuned to a cable news channel, babbled in a corner. They sat next to each other in two chairs with worn armrests.

“How soon until Wyatt’s shooting hits the news?” Abby asked when the orderly had gone. “Once the word is out, his fellow officers will be all over this place.”

“I doubt it’s been released yet. The Nose—I mean. Assistant Director
Michaelson
—isn’t going to want this going out until ... until he knows how to handle it.”

“How to spin it, you mean. How to cover it up.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Abby stared at the wall for a long moment. “If Wyatt dies,” she said finally, “you’re next.”

Tess straightened her shoulders. “That’s the second time you’ve made a threat against my life. You
do
realize it’s a crime to threaten a federal agent?”

“Just giving you fair warning.”

“How seriously am I supposed to take these warnings?”

Her gaze was fixed in a thousand-yard stare. “Dead seriously. It’s your fault. You wouldn’t listen. I tried to tell you the whole story—about Brody and Hauser, all of it—and you blew me off.”

“Abby, try to see things my way—”

What happened next was very fast. Abby spun in her chair and grabbed her with one hand, and there was a sudden killing pressure on her throat, five fingers clamping down like hot irons, while with the other hand Abby secured Tess’s wrist so she couldn’t draw her gun.

“No.
You
try to see things
my
way for a change. I asked you to trust me, and you wouldn’t. And now Vic is in there with a bullet in his chest, and I don’t think he’s going to make it. Do you?
Do you?
”

“No,” Tess whispered. She had seen mortal wounds before.

It occurred to her that this answer might be enough to push Abby entirely over the edge. All she had to do was tighten her grip by another pound or two of pressure and Tess’s airway would close. She stared into Abby’s brown eyes and waited.

“Right,” Abby said. “I don’t, either.” She relaxed her grip on Tess’s throat just a little. “So don’t tell me about your motivations and your perspective and your good fucking intentions.
You got Vic killed
.”

Every instinct shouted at Tess to agree, play along, tell this woman what she wanted to hear. Somehow she couldn’t do it. “No, I didn’t,” she heard herself say.

“You did.”

“No, Abby.
You
did. You’re the one who went to work for Faust, when you should have known better. You’re the one who shot Brody after allowing him to put you in a vulnerable position. You’ve gotten reckless and sloppy, and that’s why Vic Wyatt is in surgery right now.”

She counted ten heartbeats while Abby took this in. Then slowly Abby released her throat and turned away.

“Maybe you’re right,” she said in a deflated tone. “I’ve been on the job a long time now. Maybe I’ve gotten too sure of myself. Too willing to take risks that don’t make sense. Maybe I’m not making the right choices anymore.”

Tess rubbed her throat and thought about drawing her weapon now that her hand was free. But she knew there was no point. She wasn’t going to shoot Abby. And Abby could probably take the damn gun away from her anytime she wanted. “Nobody makes the right choices all the time.”

“I’m supposed to. When I slip up, people die.” She was silent for a long moment, and Tess knew she was thinking of Wyatt. “How did you get him to call me, anyway?”

“We appealed to him as a fellow law-enforcement officer.”

“It had to be more than that. Did you tell him he’d be investigated for passing info to me?”

“Yes.”

Abby nodded. “That’s nice, Tess. Very nice.”

“One of our own people got killed. We weren’t interested in playing around.”

“Why wasn’t he wearing a vest? You and Hauser had Kevlar. So did the others.”

“We knew you’d spot a vest under his shirt the minute you saw him.”

“You could have given him a sweatshirt or a windbreaker to conceal it.”

“And that wouldn’t have raised your suspicions? Besides, we didn’t expect it to work out like this.”

“No. You just
expected
to put me in handcuffs and have me frog-marched to the nearest federal penitentiary.”

“It wasn’t something I wanted to do.”

“But you would do it, anyway. Duty, honor, country. Right?”

“I suppose so.”

“Loyalty, decency, friendship—those things don’t factor in.”

“You’re the one who said we weren’t friends anymore.”

“So it’s back to me again. Great.”

Abby was quiet for a while. The TV chattered about domestic crimes and foreign intrigues, politics and weather. Tess hardly heard it. She was thinking of Paul Voorhees. Thinking that what she had gone through, when she found Paul dead in the bedroom, was very much like what Abby was going through now. And the worst of it was that this was only the beginning. The first pains of a hurt that would never die. It would fade a little, with time, but it would always be there, trailing her like a shadow, haunting her nights.