Full Disclosure (32 page)

“The memories alone would explain the nightmares,” Rita agreed. “I'd rather let her tell us if she wants to than reveal the fact we know. It's minor, boss, but I like her. It would be ripping the scab off a nasty wound when she wants to keep it private.”

“Even if we never say a word, she'll know we've figured it out. Ann doesn't miss the obvious. She'll wonder why we aren't looking for who wrote the diary.”

“Then maybe you should tell her now, if only to let her know we're not going to pursue it.”

“I'm thinking about it. Thanks for making the trip and finding out the facts.”

“If I could find them out this easily, reporters are going to figure it out when the book is released. Every newspaper in the country will be going back to look at their archives for the week of August 2003. How many people went missing during that week? Ann will stand out like a sore thumb, given her connection to the book about the victims.”

“I know. Ann has to know that too. And yet she's keeping this quiet. That's what bothers me. I understand a victim not wanting to go public about what happened. But this is beginning to feel like more than that. She's staying quiet for a reason, and I don't think we know the full reason why.”

T
his way, Black.” The dog came back from a tangent to check out a rose bush, then followed Paul through the gap in the evergreens. They both needed a long walk tonight, and Paul took them toward the back of the estate grounds. He needed the time to sort out his thoughts.

Ann had accepted she would live with whatever came as a result of her decision to remain silent and keep the VP's secret. She was prepared to deal with the press scrutiny, the legal costs, and the legal risks. Paul worried about what was going to unfold. He wondered if she was prepared for it to cost her job, and he feared, in the worst outcome, she might face that possibility.

She needed to state on the record that she was the writer of the diary. Her legal risk ended with the statement she was the writer and a victim of this crime. But if she couldn't come forward, if she maintained her silence because she couldn't speak of what had happened, he would do everything he could to protect her. But he didn't know if he could save her job.

As a law-enforcement officer, she had a legal obligation to report a crime. If all Ann admitted to in public was helping the VP write his autobiography, she was in legal trouble. She had known about the VP abduction, the chief of staff's death, the cover-up at the cabin, and had not reported it. The best she
could hope for before a police disciplinary panel was a long suspension. The duty to report a crime was a legal obligation of her job, not one on her as an individual, so her legal risk would end with the disciplinary panel. But losing her job would be a devastating price for her to pay.

As a victim she had a right to privacy. That right was enshrined both in legal statute and in the police code of conduct. She could report, or not report, the crime against herself and the law would support her decision. To report she knew a crime had been covered up, she would have to report she had been present and been a victim of the crime. Her silence about the cover-up at the cabin stemmed directly from her own right to privacy as a victim. Her right to privacy trumped any legal obligation she had to report. She was a victim first, and a law-enforcement officer second.

But Ann couldn't assert that right to privacy unless she went public that she had been a victim. There would be no way to quietly inform the police disciplinary board she was in fact the victim of the chief of staff, that a failure-to-report charge should not be brought against her, and expect it to not be leaked to the press. This was too high-profile a case.

She could stay silent and hope the police disciplinary board suspended her rather than fired her. Or she could make public what happened, mitigate all her legal risks, but give up her privacy.

Paul didn't know if she could take that step. She was staying quiet for a reason. She knew the law as well as he did. She knew the possible outcomes. And she was choosing to stay quiet. She wouldn't have made that decision unless she saw no other way to survive.

He could force her hand, send Rita back to do the investigation on the record, and make Ann's name public in the FBI report as the writer of the diary. He could save her job at the cost of their relationship. Even thinking of that path left him certain he would never take it. This was Ann's decision. He'd support and help her however he could, but he wouldn't force her hand.

Based on what Rita had told him, Ann had also given false statements regarding her injuries. She had misled the investigating officers by confirming the confidential informant who had died had caused her injuries. That would have to be handled as a separate matter between Ann and her boss at the time who investigated her disappearance. She was speaking as a victim, not as a law-enforcement officer, when she gave her statement, and Paul doubted a complaint would be brought by the investigating officers.

Reece Lion was the one with the most legal exposure. This was, at a minimum, going to cost him his job and his pension. A good lawyer would argue mitigating facts in the case. The death itself had been investigated the day it occurred. An autopsy had been performed, and it confirmed the man died of a self-inflicted gunshot. The cover-up's only legal ramification had been that the case file didn't have a name to record for the body, and a false death certificate had been issued for the chief of staff. The actions at the cabin were taken to protect the privacy rights of the two victims, for the VP had a right to privacy as well as the writer of the diary. The facts would be enough for a good lawyer to get a negotiated plea on the charges of tampering with a crime scene and making false statements.

The VP had put those around him in legal jeopardy in order to keep quiet what his chief of staff had done. His motives were more complex than that, but that was the bottom line. And of the people facing legal jeopardy, the one person Paul didn't know how the law would treat was the VP himself. He too was a victim of the crime. He had a reputation that would forever be tainted by the fact a serial killer had worked for him for decades. He put in motion what occurred with the cover-up. If charges were ever brought related to the cover-up, which seemed doubtful at best, the VP would die of old age before the matter was ever settled in the courts.

Paul returned to his core problem. Ann. He didn't know if she would find the courage to tell him she had written the diary.
He could pray she did. If she could trust him enough to tell him she wrote it, he could help her through the legal options. But if she couldn't tell him, if her only way of surviving this was silence, then he had to figure out a way to prepare her for what it would mean if she faced a failure-to-report disciplinary charge.

He had time. That was the only good thing he could see. Until the FBI investigation concluded, until the VP's autobiography became public, there was time to prepare. But he had to somehow get Ann to trust him enough to tell him she had written the diary.

She'd been dealing with this for years. He had been dealing with this for days. Paul forced himself to mentally step back from the worry. If there was one thing he knew about high-profile public cases, it was that the outcome always had unexpected turns. For all Paul knew, the VP had quietly arranged a pardon for the actions of everyone who had helped him keep quiet about what had happened. There was no way to know which way this would play out legally for those involved.

Ann would have a good lawyer, and if events unfolded so she might lose her job, Paul would somehow talk her into stating she was the writer of the diary. That was the one bright spot to all of this. The truth would defend Ann against any legal concern. She just had to have the strength to say it on the record if it came down to that outcome—her job or her privacy.

He hoped he didn't make things worse for her by how he handled this. She'd agreed with the VP's decision to ask him to investigate what happened. She wanted him to be the agent in this position. But it was playing havoc with his ability to decide how to handle matters with her, both on the legal side and the personal.

His phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and was relieved to see it was Ann. “I was hoping you would call tonight. How are you?”

“Feeling beat up. The funeral for the mom and her six-year-old twins was today. There was an arrest made this afternoon.
The case came down to a divorce. The mom got custody of the kids, and the father decided none of them should live. The man was a state court judge. I'm not sure how much I helped my cop beyond buying the food and listening, but at least he's finally going to get a decent night's sleep. I'm on the way to the airport. A question: do you want to do the flyover of the burial sites and visit the cabin tomorrow? The weather is good. It may not be later in the week. A front will be moving through.”

“Sure, but you would benefit from a day off.”

“Flying is my way to relax. I wouldn't offer if it wasn't something I wanted to do.”

“Then the answer is yes. The timing dovetails well with where we are at in the review.”

“We'll need to be in the air by seven a.m., if you could let Sam and Rita know. How's Black?”

He held the phone down. “Black, say hi to mom.” The dog barked once, and his tail slapped Paul's leg.

“He misses you. We both do.” More emotion than he had intended went into those words.

She hesitated before responding, and her words when they came were a soft echo of his. “I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Fly safe, Ann.”

“I always do. I'll see you bright and early tomorrow.”

Paul walked through the VP's home to the sunroom just before six a.m. to see if Ann had arrived. He stopped short. His sister-in-law was having breakfast with the VP.

“Paul, please, get a plate and join us.”

“Glad to, sir. Vicky, this is a pleasant surprise.”

“The VP asked if I would go along as security for this trip. He said Reece was helping you on a case and would be otherwise occupied, and someone needed to watch that your trip attracted no particular attention. That's the definition of my specialty. I'm going to hang out with Ann and watch your back.”

“I'll be glad to have you.” Paul glanced at the VP, wondering if any of that reason was true or if the VP had simply found a reason for Ann to have the company of a friend on the trip. Either way, Paul was glad for the outcome.

He joined them at the table with a breakfast plate.

“Ann has already come and gone,” Vicky said. “She arrived, stacked three bacon sandwiches, said good morning to Black, and left for the airport. She said to join her at hangar four.”

Paul nodded, regretting that he'd missed her.

Paul was beginning to appreciate airports and private hangars and the coordinated activity going on around the flight line. He walked with Sam and Rita, following Reece and Vicky to the hangar Ann had specified. Ann was circling a stunning plane painted deep blue. The name Grant Summer was painted in crisp white script near the open passenger cabin door and stairs. She tucked her clipboard under her arm when she saw them. “Good morning. We've got beautiful weather to fly. Settle in and get comfortable. I'll be ready to go in about ten minutes.”

The cabin was configured to seat eight, all captain's chairs in a deep plush leather. Paul chose a seat in the middle of the cabin, and the others spread out around him. Ann boarded the plane fifteen minutes later and pulled the door closed. “Everyone comfortable?”

“It's a nice ride, Ann,” Reece remarked, speaking for all of them.

“It is that.” She scanned the group. “I'm going to give a one-minute safety drill, so listen up. Emergency exits are those windows marked with orange squares. The top two levers, pulled together and turned ninety degrees, will pop the window out. They will also yield to a hard kick. Smoke is a problem in this cabin configuration. If oxygen masks come down, use them. If this plane is going down, your best defense is to tighten your seat belts, brace your feet against the closest seat, and lock your
arms around your neck. Better a broken arm than a broken neck. Turbulence can bounce this plane around the sky, so if I turn on the yellow caution lights in the cabin, find a seat and a seat belt. The highest risk on a clear day like this is a bird strike on takeoff. You hear a thump, you yell bird, and you brace as fast as you can. The airports we are using today aren't forgiving about an immediate stall. I'll be picking grass out of my teeth thirty seconds after we lift off if we strike a bunch of blackbirds.”