'For Chrissake, Rolseth, of course not. They don't have anything this good. Now pull up Missaqua County and point me toward the center.'
'Hold on a minute.' Magozzi came striding up from the back with Halloran and Roadrunner. He looked paler than he had under the mercury lights in the lot, and his voice sounded like someone had wound it too tight. 'Roadrunner just ID'd your three sinkers from those prints you sent.'
Bonar, Harley, and Gino all turned to look at him.
'They didn't pop up on any of the databases because the Feds made sure they wouldn't. Those bodies were their boys-so far undercover they didn't even have names, just numbers.'
Bonar had the kind of sigh that could make a grown man ache just listening to it. 'Undercover agents. Damn me. It's the one thing that makes a little sense-why they snatched the bodies so fast, took over our crime scene, and shut us out-and it never once occurred to me.'
'Or me,' Halloran said.
Magozzi was standing rock-still, all his body parts quiet except for his brain. 'You said it looked like an execution, right?'
Halloran nodded grimly. 'Looked like they were lined up in a row, nearly stitched in half. Doc Hanson was thinking an M16.'
Magozzi tried to pace but couldn't find enough room with five big men cluttering up the place. 'So they were undercover and into something big-something worth killing three Feds over-and got caught.' He was thinking out loud now. 'Probably just dumped in Kingsford County, a good distance away from where they were operating, since all the Feds want there is the crime scene at the quarry. Missaqua has to be the source.'
'Which is where we were headed for anyway,' Gino complained. 'We may have another piece of the puzzle, but it doesn't tell us a thing about where to start looking. Doesn't do us a damn bit of good at all.'
Magozzi almost smiled. 'It might. It might make all the difference. Roadrunner?'
'Right here.'
'I need an off-the-books FBI number. Far as I know, it isn't listed anywhere. Think you can manage that?'
Roadrunner's grin was his answer.
Gino was on his feet in a second, brows cocked at Magozzi. 'You old dog. Don't tell me. You're going to call Plastic Paul.'
'That I am.'
'Who's Plastic Paul?' Bonar asked.
Gino was already following Roadrunner and Magozzi toward the back. 'That would be Special Agent in Charge Paul Shafer, back in Minneapolis. He and Magozzi have a special relationship.'
Halloran stumbled behind them, frowning. 'That guy we met when we were in Minneapolis on the Monkeewrench thing? I thought you hated him.'
'That's the special nature of the relationship.' Gino smiled as the four of them clustered around a communications console. 'Come on, Leo, have a heart, you gotta put this on speaker.'
It took Roadrunner thirty seconds to find the number. A sleep-thickened voice came through the speaker before the first ring was completed. It was the kind of phone the owner answered instantly, twenty-four-seven. 'Shafer here.'
'Paul, it's Leo Magozzi, MPD.'
There was silence for a moment. 'How the hell did you get this number?'
'Information.'
'Bullshit. This is a closed Federal line, Magozzi, and you just bought yourself a world of hurt. I'm hanging up now.'
'Good idea. After you hang up, you can write your letter of resignation, or shoot yourself in the head. Your choice.'
Silence again. And then, 'You have thirty seconds.'
Magozzi took a quick breath. 'One of your agents is missing in an area where three other agents were found murdered.'
There was a lot of noise coming through the speaker then-covers being thrown aside, feet hitting the floor, a little static. 'Okay, you got my attention, Magozzi, but if this is bullshit, I will personally see to it that you get your first glimpse of sky in about forty years.'
Gino watched Magozzi's face redden and his chest swell, and wondered if he'd just blow up. You could almost smell the testosterone shooting right up to the satellite. 'Bullfight.' He nudged Harley.
But Magozzi's voice was deceptively calm when he spoke. 'Sharon Mueller's missing.'
'Oh, for Christ's sake, Magozzi, she's not missing. Is that what this is about? She went to Green Bay with those Monkeewrench women to do some profiling on her own time.'
'She never got that far.' Magozzi let that register, then went on to tell him about all the missing people, the dead undercover agents, the FBI taking over Missaqua County. 'We think Sharon and the others are somewhere in the middle of whatever the hell is going on, but it's a huge search area. We're on-site, or close to it, but we need your people to narrow it down so we know where to start looking, and they aren't telling law enforcement over here shit. She's your agent, Paul, not theirs. You have enough pull in that organization to get something done that might save her life? Because that might very well be what's at stake here.'
Shafer answered quickly. 'You have a secure line wherever you are?'
'We're on it.'
'Then give me the number and fifteen minutes.'
They'd only gone ten miles toward the Missaqua County line when Shafer called back. 'Do you know where Beldon is?' he asked without preamble.
Halloran nodded at Magozzi.
'Yes.'
'Missaqua County Sheriff's Office is there. They're setting up a command post. Talk to Agent Knudsen. He'll share what he can with law enforcement. Who do you have with you?'
'Rolseth and I are here, Sheriff Halloran, and Deputy Carlson'- he hesitated for only a second-'and a couple others out of Kingsford County.'
'I'll give them the heads-up, then. Call from there if he gives you any trouble.'
Magozzi released a breath. 'What's going on over here, Paul?'
'I don't know yet, but I sure as hell am going to find out. And I want to hear from you people. You're riding on my rep now, and I want to know every step you take before you take it, understood?'
'You got it.'
Gino went back up to the copilot's seat and brought Harley and Bonar up-to-date on the word from Shafer. Harley was doing hands-on, eyes-on driving along a tar road that looked about six feet too narrow to accommodate the RV's width. 'So punch Beldon in on the GPS and take us there,' he told Gino. 'Shit. Saturday night with the FBI. I haven't had this much fun since I got mugged and Tasered during Carnival in Rio a few years back.'
Gino took a quick sideways glance at the size of the man behind the wheel, and marveled that a Taser would actually bring him down. 'One of these days, I'd like to hear the rest of that.'
Harley shrugged. 'It's an okay story. Nothing epic. Hey, Bonar, grab me a carton of OJ out of the fridge, would you?'
Bonar was still planted on the sofa; Charlie happily sprawled all over him. He turned his head to browse a kitchen area that was bigger than Margie's. It was all wood-teak, if he wasn't mistaken-and not a hint of enamel anywhere. 'You don't have a refrigerator in here.'
'Third drawer to the right of the sink,' Gino said without looking away from the GPS readout. 'We've got another two-point-seven miles on this one, Harley, then right on some road-County pee-pee is what it says, but that's gotta be wrong.'
Bonar eased Charlie off his lap and went to find drawer number three. 'That's County Double-P. All the county roads in the state used to be letters. Great idea back in the 1800s. Sort of went to pot when they built too many and ran out of alphabet, so they just started doubling up.'
Gino shook his head. 'I am a stranger in a strange land.'
Bonar was in deep reverence once he found the refrigerator drawers, completely concealed behind the
