'We can discuss that later. Right now, the general feels there is something more important we need to talk about.'
'What is that?'
'Please excuse me for asking, Detective, but General Rodgers says he has reason to believe that you are being blackmailed.'
There was a long, guilty hesitation. Kat looked at Rodgers. She was sitting on the pillows beside the night- stand, and he was standing at the foot of the bed. The distance had seemed vast a few moments ago.
Now it evaporated.
'General, I have another call,' Howell said. 'Can you give me a moment?'
'I can.'
Whether there was or was not another caller did not matter. Rodgers gave him the 'moment.' Howell returned in under half a minute.
'What makes you think I'm being blackmailed?' Howell asked.
'Are you?' Rodgers asked.
'Would you answer my question, sir?'
'We wondered about the snare Mr. and Mrs. McCaskey walked into,'
Rodgers said. 'The timing was too neat. Someone went to the apartment with evidence to frame Ms. Lockley, our team entered, then you showed up.'
'You assume we were not watching the apartment.'
'If you were, you would have nabbed the first person who went in,'
Rodgers pointed out.
'General, this is not a conversation I wish to have.'
'I understand,' Rodgers said. 'But you have to under stand something as well. Op-Center was attacked. A coworker died '
'I know. I'm sorry.'
'Others have died as well. We are going to stop this. I do not have to tell you what will happen if you are implicated in any way.'
There was a soft snicker on the other end. 'Who was the one just asking me about blackmail?'
'This is internal affairs followed by due process,' Rodgers said.
'That's very different.'
'Detective, I have always thought highly of you. I need you to tell me something, truthfully,' Kat said suddenly. 'Is General Rodgers hallucinating, or am I the one who is not seeing reality? Am I involved with bad people?'
For the third time, Detective Howell was silent. Kat's brow creased, and her mouth sagged at the edges. Rodgers shifted his eyes to the painting over the bed. It was a lithograph of a Spanish vessel in San Diego Bay when it was still a Spanish settlement. There were people gathered onshore as a bumboat approached. The name of the painting was Aguardar Noticias Del Hogar.
Awaiting News from Home.
Rodgers marveled at how different the world was, how different life was, when people had to wait weeks for an answer to a question like that. It was the reason men of great wisdom and even greater instinct had to be put in the field.
'I think that answers my question,' Kat said sullenly.
'Detective, talk to us,' Rodgers said. 'If Ms. Lockley is correct, let us help. Whatever this is, we can fix it.'
