“Whoa, didn’t mean to startle you,” Sergeant Scofield said. “Here’s your tea.” Too nervous to eat, Lincoln had skipped breakfast this morning. He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his forehead.
“You okay?” Scofield asked.
“I am fine. Do you know when Detective Mitchell will return?”
“Sorry. He hasn’t answered his beeper yet.”
“And Sergeant Casey? Are you sure I can’t have her phone number or home address?”
Ed shook his head no. “If you can’t wait, I can have them call you.”
“I will wait.”
Lincoln unbuttoned his suit coat and, from his seat in the visitor’s area, watched as detectives filled out reports at their desks, and others went from phone call to phone call. The desk sergeant himself was either logging in information or on the phone.
Lincoln moved an ashtray over to the table on the other side of the waiting room. The coffee table was littered with half-empty coffee cups and outdated newspapers. He picked up the coffee cups and emptied them in a nearby trash can. Gathering up the papers, he stacked them in one pile so he would have room to lay his paper down to read.
Voices pierced through the commotion in the outer office. Two figures emerged from the elevator. Hoping that they might be the detectives, Lincoln stood up.
He didn’t know the well-dressed man the desk sergeant referred to as Captain. But the man with the captain, Lincoln would know in the dark. Even if he hadn’t seen the cold eyes and arrogant smile, he would know the voice. It was loud, demanding, laced in cynicism. It was him. The man he hated. The man known as P.K.
Lincoln hid his face behind his newspaper and waited for the two men to disappear behind a door at the far end of the room.
Without a word to Ed Scofield, Lincoln left his cup of tea and newspaper and fled down the stairs.
Chapter 61
Sam stood in front of one of the tall windows in the sitting room watching for Jake to return from the bank. He had discovered that the Chasen Heights Post Tribune had been paying on Samuel Casey’s safety deposit box. It had been a little-known hideaway for their traveling reporters years ago that, somehow, slipped through the cracks in the Bookkeeping Department.
Abby stood in the living room watching her daughter. “Samantha, please come into the kitchen and eat your breakfast.”
“Where is Jake? Why hasn’t he called?” Sam reluctantly walked to the kitchen. She snatched a piece of crisp bacon as Abby pushed her onto a stool at the counter.
“The banks aren’t open.” Abby set a plate of toast on the counter.
“He had to get a subpoena but it shouldn’t have taken that long.”
Sam glanced out into the backyard. Alex was kneeling in the lawn repairing a sprinkler hose. Just as she was ready to turn away from the window, her eyes caught sight of something. “Is that a dog in our yard?”
Abby peered out of the windowbox over the sink, spatula in hand. “Yes, Dear, that’s a dog.”
Sam looked sharply at her mother. “That’s not funny.”
“That’s Poco,” Abby explained, smiling. “Jacob bought her for Alex.”
“He did WHAT?”
“Alex has been admiring that dog for three weeks. He said she was going to be put to sleep. So Jacob bought her as a thank you gift for Alex fixing the cut on his head. That was very thoughtful of him, don’t you think?” Abby didn’t wait for Sam to reply. “She’s very well-behaved, Dear. And she’s going to be with Alex, not here.”
“You’re fawning, Mom.”
“I’m what?”
“Fawning. You are fawning over Jake. All this time I keep waiting for the shoe to drop, expecting him to plop that videotape of me on Uncle Don’s desk.” Her hands moved in animation. Abby leaned against the sink, her arms folded in front of her as she watched her daughter rant. “But why does he have to? He has you cooking his meals, washing his clothes. He uses my house like a hotel with complete room service.”
“I’m sorry, Samantha. I thought this was my house, too.”
Closing her eyes, Sam bit back her irritation. She rubbed her temples, realizing how she must have sounded. “Of course. I’m sorry.” She forced a smile. “I just… somewhere along the line I lost control. And it all started with that damn trip to Preston’s.”
“Yes, you do have a knack for complicating things.”
“Sam?”
Sam turned toward the patio where Tim was standing, his face pressed close to the screen.
“Come in, please. I hope YOU have good news.”
“Good and bad, I guess you could say.” Tim gave a nod toward Abby.
“I found the second password,” Tim explained. “It’s GUVNER.”
“That’s the bad news?”
“No. The bad news is the program can only be accessed at the main terminal.”
“Preston’s? We have to go back to Preston’s?” Sam’s face twisted into a look of disbelief and sheer agony.
Sam walked him to the driveway where he had parked his bike. “Oh, by the way,” Tim said as he climbed onto his bike. “I followed the dark sedan. The two men went to the Suisse Hotel. Suite 1411.”
Chapter 62
Jake drove up the driveway, resenting the fact that he had lied to Sam. He and Carl had obtained the contents of the safety deposit box last night. The bank president had personally driven over to open the doors.
Carl had made a copy of Hap’s affidavit and even kept the last two pages. “Sergeant Casey doesn’t need to see those two pages,” Carl had said.
It was then that Jake knew Carl had seen the affidavit before. Carl hadn’t even read what was in the safety deposit box. He had gone right to the last two pages.
Carl finally admitted it. “President Whitter received this report by courier from Samuel Casey AFTER Samuel Casey’s death. He must have suspected that his life was in danger and wanted to make sure a copy got into the right hands. The President faxed me copies of it after I arrived in Chasen Heights. I’m as sick about this as you are, Jake.”
Jake couldn’t believe those bodies had been out there all this time, and no one had checked out the story. The families had been led to believe that their sons were deserters.
The coup de grace was, they had found the bodies, all three of Hap’s friends. Question was: Did they die in battle? Or were they murdered?
Jake turned the ignition off, leaned his forehead against the steering wheel. Carl had to work on President Whittier. An election seemed to be more important to the President. Carl’s parting words were for Jake to make sure Sam didn’t find out the truth.
Chapter 63
Through the bay window Jake watched Alex tossing a ball to Poco. The sun was blinding, the air humid. The forecast said it would hit ninety degrees by noon.
Abby was cutting flowers in a rainbow of colors and placing them in a basket. She handled the flowers as
