Faith hadn’t thought anything about Department Thirty could make her feel guilt. Generally, everyone she dealt with was guilty of
Strange words to come from a Department Thirty case officer. Department Thirty’s first case officer, in fact. The words didn’t seem to jibe with the whole idea of the department. It was about information, wasn’t it? Not people. It had certainly seemed that way to Faith since she joined Thirty.
But she thought back, to some of the people she’d met in the last three years. There were the “ordinary” cases, people like Leon Bankston who were criminals, had been caught, and a straight exchange of information was made with them. But there were also people like Ryan Elder, and Eric Anthony and his beautiful deaf son, Patrick. And Alex Bridge, whom she now considered a close friend. All people that had butted up against the Department Thirty apparatus for one reason or another. And with them, the information had served the people, not the other way around.
But no amount of information had been there to save Daryn McDermott.
Or her brother. God only knew what had happened to Sean, what had been done to him.
“Faith?” Hendler said.
And here was Scott Hendler, a good man, arguably a great one, who somehow saw things in Faith that she didn’t see in herself.
Faith shook her head. What would happen if she told enough of the truth to put aside some of the lies? Could she walk the tightrope? What would Yorkton say?
A woman was dead, a woman Faith could have protected.
“I think,” she said to Cain, “that she told you Sanborn was an abusive boyfriend just to get you to back off.”
Cain looked surprised.
“We all empathize with a woman who’s been in an abusive relationship,” Faith said. “She’d been gone without a trace for two weeks, now she’s back with no explanation. If she’s hiding something, she wants to get rid of you as quickly as she can.”
“So she tells him a story that she thinks will get him to back off the questions,” Hendler said.
“She was lying from the get-go,” Cain said. “But she wasn’t trying very hard at it. I could see that right away. That’s why I decided to cut it short. That’s why I called you and wanted to meet with you in the morning.” He turned his coffee cup around a couple of times. “I just didn’t think the circumstances would be what they were.”
“Faith,” Hendler said, “who is Sanborn?”
Faith took a deep breath and swam out into treacherous waters. “I don’t know, but I can tell you who Daryn told me he was.”
Cain took out a small spiral notebook and a pen.
“We know Sanborn’s not real,” Faith said. “At least not by that name. Just like we know Katherine Hall wasn’t real by that name.”
“At least we know that now,” Hendler said.
Faith glanced at him. They would have a long, private talk sometime soon.
“Point taken,” Faith said. “Daryn told me that Franklin Sanborn was one of the leaders of a radical political group called the Coalition for Social Justice.”
She went on to give a carefully sanitized account of what Daryn had told her-the Coalition’s goals, its involvement with the terrorist attack downtown, the “target” list that turned out to be a fantasy. She omitted Sean’s role altogether, and never mentioned the fact that Daryn had requested any kind of protection.
When she finished, Hendler gave her a long look. By now he expected her to dance around the issue of Department Thirty with “outsiders,” namely anyone outside the DOJ structure. But Faith suspected he was dismayed that she’d left out her brother completely.
“And what’s your role in all this?” Cain asked her directly, barely waiting a breath after she’d finished. “Why would this girl, this senator’s daughter who has strange ideas of social justice and likes to stick it to her father, be telling you all this? Don’t insult my intelligence by telling me ‘special projects,’ either.”
“I can’t answer that,” Faith said.
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Can’t. And won’t. I’m not trying to hold up your investigation, Rob. I hope you believe me on that. I want to know who killed Daryn McDermott just as much as you do, and probably more so.”
“You know,” Hendler said, “that probably within a few hours there’s going to be a shit storm over this. The fact that she’s the daughter of a U.S. senator.”
“I know,” Faith said.
Cain looked at both of them, then stood up. “For the record, Faith, I’ve never seriously considered you a suspect. But I had to bring it up. I wanted to see how you’d react. You’re a pro. I’m sure you understand.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Also for the record, I’m royally pissed off that you know more than you’re telling me. Pardon my language.”
Faith shrugged.
“Under normal circumstances,” Cain said, “I could hold you as a material witness, charge you with obstruction, all that good stuff. But if I did that, I’m guessing that my bosses would get calls from somewhere east of here. And that’s never good.”
Faith said nothing.
“Of course, we’re all going to be getting some of those calls pretty soon, from Senator McDermott.” Cain leaned against the table. “Daryn McDermott’s address is listed as a condo in the Georgetown area of D.C. Her father, being a senator from Arizona, has a place outside of Phoenix. I wonder what this girl who had no ties at all to Oklahoma was doing here, why she wound up dead in downtown Oklahoma City. She was a long way from either Phoenix or Washington. Food for thought, isn’t it?”
Hendler stood up. “I’ll drive you back downtown, Rob. Would you head on out to the car and wait for me?”
Cain nodded to both of them and left the house. Faith walked Hendler to the door.
“Answer me this,” Hendler said. “When you called me over to Bricktown on the morning the shit hit the fan downtown, did you know then who she was? Please tell me the truth. When I drove your brother, and you drove that girl, to the Edmond house, did you know then? I need to know.”
Faith put a hand on his shoulder, then slid it over to the back of his neck. She touched him lightly there. “I found out just after that,” she said. “After we got to the house.”
“That’s the truth?”
“That’s the truth, Scott.”
Relief swept across Hendler’s face. “I believe you. We’ve been down this road enough times that I know you wouldn’t tell me an outright lie, that you’d just say you couldn’t answer.”
Faith nodded. “I do the best I can. I worry that it’s not enough sometimes, but I guess once you do the best you can, you can’t do anything else.”
“That’s a fact. Anything from Sean?”
“No, and I don’t know what to think.”
“Faith…”
Faith recognized the tone and saw what was coming next. “I don’t think he’s capable of murder, Scott. I think he’s an alcoholic, and I think because of that he’s easily led sometimes. Daryn McDermott certainly manipulated him. But I don’t think he’s capable of doing what was done to her.”
“But you’ve said you really don’t know him anymore,” Hendler said gently.
“That’s true, but…we both saw the body. If Sean had killed her, it would have had to be a crime of passion. That was no crime of passion. That was someone making a point, someone delivering a message. The gunshot, the hanging, the location of the body.”
Hendler smiled a little. “See, I knew there was still a cop lurking under all that Department Thirty secret-agent stuff.” The smile faded. “It would make things a lot easier if we could talk to Sean, though.”
It took Faith a minute to catch his meaning. “I don’t know where he is, Scott. He even took my car, for God’s sake. I’m not hiding him.”
“Okay, then. I hope you’re right about him. It’s just…this is a murder investigation. Even if you didn’t mention it to Rob, I have to consider it. I have to think about it. You understand that, don’t you?”
She stroked his cheek. “You’re such a good man, Sleepy Scott. Yes, I understand that.”
“Maybe you should lie low for a few more days. I’m sure your boss has already told you that. Departmental security and all that.”
“And all that,” Faith echoed.
“Dinner tonight?”
“Dinner sounds great,” Faith said. “Maybe we can grab onto a little something normal in the midst of all this.”
“Maybe so,” Hendler said. But he sounded doubtful.
Hendler dropped Cain off at the Investigations Division downtown, and each promised they’d be in touch later in the day.
For once, Cain didn’t mind that the Bureau was the lead jurisdictional agency on the case. Scott Hendler was faced with the unpleasant task of contacting Senator Edward McDermott.
At his own desk, Cain listened to his voice mail messages. Most were from the media, all of which he deleted. They could contact Public Information if they wanted a statement. One was from his wife, wondering if he would be able to take their older daughter to her choir rehearsal that evening.
The last message was from the medical examiner’s office. There would be a short delay in processing the report on the autopsy of Katherine Hall. Cain made a mental note to let the ME’s office know the deceased’s real identity. He wondered what the holdup was in getting the report.
He hung up the phone and logged onto his computer. He didn’t have access to quite as many databases as the U.S. Department of Justice did, but he could still go a lot of places and peek into a lot of dark corners.
He thought for a long moment, then began clicking his mouse and working his keyboard, seeing what he could find out about one Faith Kelly.
29
