Whitewash (67 page)

EchoEnergy

Leon couldn’t believe how bad this guy smelled. He almost smelled worse than the chicken guts down below. And he was pathetic, too. A grown man pissing his pants.

“Not so brilliant now, huh, Doc?”

“Who paid you?” O’Hearn wanted to know. “It was Sidel, wasn’t it?”

Leon simply shook his head, not as an answer so much as out of disgust. He never understood why anyone wasted his dying breath wanting to know who had done him in.

He had the mad scientist backed against the railing, sweating and crying and pissing his pants. His forehead was raw where Leon had pressed and jabbed the barrel of the gun. If the idiot would hold still instead of jerking around, this part wouldn’t have to hurt.

“Please don’t kill me.” It was a whimper. Finally, maybe the asshole would settle down. Leon liked the idea of making him squirm a little. Maybe just because this whole goddamn job had been such a bitch.

Christ! It was hot up here now that the sun had broken out of the trees. All this fucking steel and concrete. And that stink! Leon would be glad to finish this up and finally get back home.

Somewhere down below he heard an alarm. He cocked his head, trying to listen over the groans of hydraulics and the roar of motors. Or was it a siren? That Galloway woman wouldn’t have been so stupid to sic the security guards on him, would she?

It distracted Leon. Sent his eyes off O’Hearn long enough for the scientist to notice. Long enough for O’Hearn to believe he had one desperate chance left. He grabbed for the gun. Son of a bitch! Leon pushed back, but the guy was already attached. Why the hell did they always grab for the gun?

The mad little scientist was strong. He arm wrestled Leon so that both of them were pressed against the railing. Leon tried to keep his footing solid while O’Hearn dug long fingernails into his skin. He tried to keep his own finger on the trigger, but O’Hearn had managed to shove their arms down, against each other’s bellies. And now Leon knew his best option was to shift the balance. Use his bulk to shove the madman over the railing.

He had O’Hearn where he wanted him. He just needed to brace himself against the railing and kick one of O’Hearn’s legs. The man’s grimace tilted up right into Leon’s face. It wasn’t a pretty sight: gritted yellowed teeth, silver goatee glistening with spittle, eyes wide, forehead veins bulging. And there was a growl. Even with all the surrounding noise Leon could hear the madman growling like some rabid dog.

Leon had control. He had the advantage of a solid balance. He was ready to fling the little bastard over the railing. There were two gunshots. Leon wasn’t sure he would have even recognized them as gunshots, both muffled and small, but their force jabbed both men.

Leon watched O’Hearn’s grimace slide into shock—raised eyebrows, eyes still wide. The struggle stopped. O’Hearn slipped away, falling sideways, his torso simply tipping over the railing. There was no grasping, no straining, no scream. And Leon stood still, staring as another scientist plunged into the churning feedstock.

It wasn’t until Leon swung his legs over the catwalk to connect with the steel ladder down that he realized it wasn’t all O’Hearn’s blood on the front of his shirt. He could feel the pain in his side with every step.

The sirens were louder on the ground. He’d never make it to the back parking lot where he’d left his latest ride. And he couldn’t just walk out of here with all this blood. What an absolute fucking way to end. That fortune-teller was probably smiling somewhere about now.

Leon thought for sure he was fucked until he saw the Pepsi truck. The driver was closing up the back, getting ready to move out. Leon made a dash for the truck, running between whining conveyor belts and making it to the passenger door without anyone noticing. Or at least he hoped. He opened the door and pulled himself up into the seat just as the driver opened his door on the other side. Leon showed him the gun, keeping it down on the seat.

“Get in.”

The guy obeyed, climbing up behind the wheel, staring at the bloody mess that covered the front of Leon’s shirt.

“I won’t hurt you,” Leon said, trying not to concentrate on the fire starting to sear his insides. “I just need a ride out of this goddamn place.”

The guy continued to stare for a minute or two. Leon wondered if maybe he should shove him out and attempt to drive the truck himself. They didn’t stop employees or vendors on the way out of the park. Finally the guy pulled on his seat belt and started the engine. But he stopped before he put it into gear and glanced over at Leon.

“Do you like the Boss, Rolling Stones or the Doobie Brothers?”

Tallahassee, Florida

Jason kept going through all his options and came up blank each time. All he had was a couple of changes of clothes and his computer. That’s when he realized he had something else—a briefcase stuffed with documents and a hard drive filled with files. He’d already found a connection between William Sidel and Zach Kensor. What else could he find if he dared to check Senator Allen’s records? Sure, the police would be checking that stuff, too, but maybe Jason could see something they wouldn’t notice or recognize.

He pulled out his laptop. The airport had wireless Internet service and in a matter of minutes Jason had access to Senator Allen’s bank statements and credit card accounts. Using all his tricks, it only took an additional five minutes to access the senator’s e-mails—both business and personal. When he found the senator’s deleted cache of e-mails he knew he had hit a bull’s-eye.

Jason downloaded copies of everything to a separate jump drive. The trick—and yes, trick was the appropriate term—was to get the information into the right hands. The cops would laugh if he presented it, but there had to be someone…

He packed up his laptop and stopped at a gift shop. He bought a Florida State baseball cap and a nine-by-twelve mailing envelope with URGENT printed in tall red letters. From his messenger days he knew that word garnered attention no matter what the package was. He stuffed some copies inside, sealed it and scratched out the recipient’s name on the outside.

Down in baggage claim he saw his garment bag off to the side abandoned with a group of others. A couple of flights had just come in and the area was crowded. Jason gave a college kid ten bucks to rescue the garment bag. Another ten bucks if he held a cab for him. All the while, Jason watched from the middle of a crowd at the turnstile to see if anyone followed the kid. No one did.

He asked the cabdriver to drop him off at the corner of the hotel he wanted, and instructed him to drive around the block before he dropped off Jason’s bags in the lobby. That gave Jason enough time to slap on his baseball cap and walk in with only the URGENT envelope. He handed it to the concierge with the practiced indifference and impatience of a messenger.

“This has to get into the client’s hands ASAP,” he told the concierge who barely glanced up at him, instead focusing on the name on the envelope.

By the time Jason stepped away from the desk the guy was already on the phone. Jason left the lobby just as his cabdriver dropped his bags on the sidewalk.

“Thanks, man.” Jason handed him an extra twenty. He stowed the baseball cap in the side pocket of his garment bag, slung straps and bags over his shoulder and entered the lobby again. He headed for a bank of pay phones and then he waited and watched.

It didn’t take long. A small, well-dressed black man Jason didn’t recognize picked up the URGENT envelope from the concierge. Jason followed him onto the elevator. He played the weary traveler, offering only a weak smile and nod when the man glanced his way. He poked at the already lit fourteen as if he hadn’t noticed his floor had already been selected.

At the fourteenth floor he let the small man out while he pretended to readjust his bags and determine which way his own room was. The man march-stepped to the end of the hall, knocked on a door and delivered the envelope with only a brief exchange.

Jason turned a corner and waited until he knew the man was back on the elevator. Then he went to the room at the end of the hall. He took a deep breath and knocked.

When she opened the door, she was the one who looked relieved.

“I wondered what happened to you,” Senator Shirley Malone said.

Tallahassee, Florida

Jason kept going through all his options and came up blank each time. All he had was a couple of changes of clothes and his computer. That’s when he realized he had something else—a briefcase stuffed with documents and a hard drive filled with files. He’d already found a connection between William Sidel and Zach Kensor. What else could he find if he dared to check Senator Allen’s records? Sure, the police would be checking that stuff, too, but maybe Jason could see something they wouldn’t notice or recognize.

He pulled out his laptop. The airport had wireless Internet service and in a matter of minutes Jason had access to Senator Allen’s bank statements and credit card accounts. Using all his tricks, it only took an additional five minutes to access the senator’s e-mails—both business and personal. When he found the senator’s deleted cache of e-mails he knew he had hit a bull’s-eye.

Jason downloaded copies of everything to a separate jump drive. The trick—and yes, trick was the appropriate term—was to get the information into the right hands. The cops would laugh if he presented it, but there had to be someone…

He packed up his laptop and stopped at a gift shop. He bought a Florida State baseball cap and a nine-by-twelve mailing envelope with URGENT printed in tall red letters. From his messenger days he knew that word garnered attention no matter what the package was. He stuffed some copies inside, sealed it and scratched out the recipient’s name on the outside.

Down in baggage claim he saw his garment bag off to the side abandoned with a group of others. A couple of flights had just come in and the area was crowded. Jason gave a college kid ten bucks to rescue the garment bag. Another ten bucks if he held a cab for him. All the while, Jason watched from the middle of a crowd at the turnstile to see if anyone followed the kid. No one did.

He asked the cabdriver to drop him off at the corner of the hotel he wanted, and instructed him to drive around the block before he dropped off Jason’s bags in the lobby. That gave Jason enough time to slap on his baseball cap and walk in with only the URGENT envelope. He handed it to the concierge with the practiced indifference and impatience of a messenger.

“This has to get into the client’s hands ASAP,” he told the concierge who barely glanced up at him, instead focusing on the name on the envelope.

By the time Jason stepped away from the desk the guy was already on the phone. Jason left the lobby just as his cabdriver dropped his bags on the sidewalk.

“Thanks, man.” Jason handed him an extra twenty. He stowed the baseball cap in the side pocket of his garment bag, slung straps and bags over his shoulder and entered the lobby again. He headed for a bank of pay phones and then he waited and watched.

It didn’t take long. A small, well-dressed black man Jason didn’t recognize picked up the URGENT envelope from the concierge. Jason followed him onto the elevator. He played the weary traveler, offering only a weak smile and nod when the man glanced his way. He poked at the already lit fourteen as if he hadn’t noticed his floor had already been selected.

At the fourteenth floor he let the small man out while he pretended to readjust his bags and determine which way his own room was. The man march-stepped to the end of the hall, knocked on a door and delivered the envelope with only a brief exchange.

Jason turned a corner and waited until he knew the man was back on the elevator. Then he went to the room at the end of the hall. He took a deep breath and knocked.

When she opened the door, she was the one who looked relieved.

“I wondered what happened to you,” Senator Shirley Malone said.

Airport Marriott Tallahassee, Florida

Eric didn’t like the idea of them meeting in a suite at the airport Marriott, but the Mayor hadn’t let them down yet. Howard had to return the cabin cruiser. Eric had hoped Sabrina would go with him, but she insisted on coming along to the Marriott. There wasn’t much of an argument. It was her neck that was still at risk.

Russ carried a leather briefcase that included his laptop and copies of all the processing files. The satellite images and Polaroids Eric had found at EchoEnergy in Sidel’s desk drawer were also in the case.

“You think we have enough?” Russ asked the Mayor as the four of them stepped off the elevator.

“This guy’s a straight shooter. He’ll tell us if it’s enough. I’m hoping the combination of stuff will be the proverbial last nail in the coffin.”

“As long as he doesn’t nail us for how we got the information,” Russ said.

Eric didn’t blame him. He felt a bit uneasy about this deal, too.

The Mayor found the suite and knocked while the others stayed back a few paces.

When the door opened, Eric couldn’t believe he didn’t see this coming. He knew the man though they would both pretend otherwise. So when the Mayor introduced Colin Jernigan, Eric greeted him as if it were their first introduction.

They spent less than twenty minutes presenting their information. Jernigan nodded a lot and when they finished he rewarded them with, “This is quite a collection.”

“But can you use it?” the Mayor wanted to know.

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

“They’ll have to stop processing the hurricane debris, right?” the Mayor asked.

“I would think so.” But Eric didn’t think Jernigan sounded convincing.

“What’s the punishment these days for contaminating Florida’s waterways?” Russ asked.

“Punishment? Probably a fine. I’m not sure.”

“A fine?” Sabrina sat on the edge of her seat. Eric could feel her frustration. “Are you telling me they hired someone to kill me, then they framed me for murder and all to avoid a fine?”

“There is no proof here that they tried to kill you,” Jernigan said. “I’ll talk to the State Patrol,” he added as if that were her only concern. “I can probably get the charges dropped for your cooperation in this investigation. But I have to be honest with you—” and he waved a hand over the documents and computer files on the coffee table “—none of what you have here will probably add up to a felony charge.”

“What about the Polaroids?” Eric wanted to know.

“Those will definitely finish off Senator Allen’s career.”

“And Sidel?” Sabrina asked.

“Unless any of those young men are under eighteen, there’s no crime for him to have pornography in his private office.”

The Mayor and Russ sat quietly. Eric glanced at Sabrina and saw her studying Jernigan. She wasn’t impressed or satisfied. Neither was Eric. But he wasn’t sure what else they could do.

“I don’t mean to sound so negative,” Jernigan told them. “Altogether the information is compelling—”

“I just remembered where I’ve seen your name,” Sabrina interrupted.

Everyone looked at Jernigan. Eric thought she had to be mistaken. The Colin Jernigan he knew didn’t have his name up and out in public much. In fact, it was usually one of those names whispered around Washington. Eric had never been sure who Jernigan exactly worked for in the Justice Department. Nobody seemed to know except that it was someone high in the administration and anything he was involved with was top secret.

Sabrina pulled out the small purple notebook that Eric knew belonged to Dr. Lansik and she flipped through the pages. She found what she wanted and slid the notebook across the coffee table to Jernigan.

“Dr. Lansik had your name and phone number written down,” she said, tapping the notebook. “You’ve known about this.”

Eric stared at Jernigan and he could see the truth, though Jernigan was good. He didn’t shift or jerk in the least. Only his eyes moved, looking up at Sabrina the way someone looks up over reading glasses to be able to see in the distance more clearly.

“Dr. Lansik had been in touch with me, yes.”

“So you knew what was happening?”

Eric could hear her anger just on the fringes. She was talking to Jernigan like he’d heard her talk to an errant student.

“We didn’t know exactly what was happening. Dr. Lansik backed out. He never showed up.” Jernigan sighed and sat back as if it was something he had no control over. Eric knew better. He knew there probably wasn’t anything Jernigan didn’t have some control over.

“And you never thought to follow up,” Sabrina said, her voice bordering on sarcasm. “You didn’t bother to see why he didn’t show up.”

Jernigan glanced at his watch, exaggerating the gesture. He was finished here and wanted them to know he was finished. “No. Some people simply change their minds.”

Sabrina stood and walked over to Russ’s briefcase. She unzipped a side pocket and took something out. “Dr. Lansik had his mind changed for him,” she said as she placed the plastic bag down on the coffee table in front of Jernigan. “This is all that’s left of him.” Then she headed for the door.

Russ grabbed his briefcase and followed her out. The Mayor stood waiting for Jernigan to do the same. The old man shook his hand and, without a word, he left, too.

That left Eric alone with Colin Jernigan. He fingered the plastic bag, then left it on the table.

“She’s quite a spitfire,” he told Eric.

“What’d you expect? She’s my sister.”

“I didn’t realize you were working on this EchoEnergy thing.”

“I wasn’t,” Eric said. “I’m with Sabrina. I didn’t know there was an EchoEnergy thing. I just stumbled into this because of her. So what will happen to Sidel?”

“I’m not sure.” Jernigan looked at his watch again. “Unfortunately, he’ll still be hosting the opening bash for the energy summit this evening. There’s no one to confront him. All the attention for scandal and smear is on Senator Allen right now.”

Eric shook his head. He couldn’t help thinking Sidel had tried to have Sabrina killed and yet he still got to celebrate with the president. It wasn’t right.

“So, who’d you end up with?” Jernigan asked Eric.

“Excuse me?”

“Who did you decide to work with?”

“DEA.”

Jernigan nodded his approval. “So you’re here in Tallahassee?”

“Pensacola Beach.”

“Drug runners?”

“Ex-dealer,” Eric said. “We’ve never been able to connect him to anything that would stick. The money was never found.” And that’s what Eric’s report would say. Howard had gone straight. He deserved to be left alone.

“Well, I have a reception I need to prepare for.”

There was a knock on the door. Jernigan glanced at Eric and Eric only shrugged.

It was Sabrina. A cooler, calmer Sabrina.

“I’m sorry I left like that,” she said, but she was looking at Eric, not Jernigan. “There has to be something more we can do.”

Jernigan looked to Eric as if waiting for an answer.

“Maybe there is,” Eric said, getting an idea. “But first there’s something I’ve got to tell you, Bree.”