“That’s something her office will be able to do.” Zane maintained eye contact as he lifted a finger. “If we cut a deal with Enrico, he’s willing to give us everything he has on the fourth man that the techs identified in those videos. A detective in the Chicago PD would be a pretty big bust.”
SAC Keaton rubbed her temple and let slip a groan of frustration. “I’d rather hang them both, but you’re right. Info on the crooked cop changes things. I’ll get in touch with Julliard and see what she can do about getting this paperwork pushed through for MCC Chicago.” Lacing her fingers together, she scooted forward. “Speaking of corrupt cops. I know you and Storm have been swamped lately, but I’ve been meaning to ask you about the status of your…investigation.”
Zane slumped back in his chair. He knew it would come eventually, but that hadn’t stopped him from dreading this question or the answers he couldn’t offer. “There’s not much to say about it, honestly.”
He and Jasmine Keaton were the only two at the Chicago field office who were privy to Zane’s real background. Even then, SAC Keaton only knew the abridged version of his experience.
As far as the rest of the Bureau—save the Deputy Director who had recruited him three years earlier—was concerned, he’d worked for the FBI for most of his adult life. There were fake records that placed him in intelligence analytics at the New York City field office, as well as various classified undercover projects throughout the country.
The Central Intelligence Agency spared no expense when the time came for them to cover the tracks of one of their covert operatives.
His experience in espionage was the chief reason he’d been brought to the Chicago FBI office. His objective was to hunt down any sources of corruption, which the Chicago branch of the Bureau had a long history of, as did a handful of field offices in other large cities across the country. Unbeknownst to most agents at Zane’s level, even the previous SAC’s hands were dirty.
As part of the deputy director’s effort to clean house, a handful of Special Agents in Charge had been replaced, and the Bureau had sought new agents with expertise in gathering intelligence. Zane knew nothing about the others, but he had his guesses about where they’d been sent.
He was still a part of the Organized Crime Division, with all duties and casework that came with his field agent status. In truth, he preferred the investigative portion of his job over the borderline covert side project he’d been assigned before he’d completed training at Quantico.
But the corruption in Chicago was a real problem—he and Amelia had learned that the hard way during the Leila Jackson investigation. As he went about his casework, he was also tasked with scrutinizing his fellow agents.
When SAC Keaton’s voice cut through his contemplation, Zane wondered how long he’d been silent.
“Nothing came up in your last case? Or in the past few weeks since the Kankakee farm went down?” She fixed him with an expectant stare.
He’d hoped to have something to offer. At one point, he’d felt he might have narrowed down a name or two to give SAC Keaton, but innocent until proven guilty meant that, yet again, he had to disappoint her with his answer. Zane hung his head, shaking it as he looked to the floor.
“No, nothing came up. We had most of the same people involved in that case and in the Leila Jackson case.” He could feel her eyes boring into him. She, no doubt, was just as disappointed as he was in the lack of results. He couldn’t hide from it, though, and lifted his gaze, meeting the SAC’s eyes. “My best guess is that the rat has something to do with either Emilio Leóne or Brian Kolthoff.”
SAC Keaton laced her fingers together. “Well, who was on your short list during the Jackson case?”
He took a long drink from the thermos before returning his attention to the SAC. “No one I’m sure of. I’m basing most of this on the night we tried to bust that first Leóne house, where everyone had vanished by the time we got there. Anyone involved in that takedown could have been the one to warn the Leónes.” He lifted a shoulder. “Corsaw, Larson, Harris, and the rest of the tactical team, not to mention the crime scene techs.”
“What about Storm?”
Zane’s eyes narrowed, and a cold rush of disbelief rose up to greet him. SAC Keaton’s question was vague, but the first place Zane’s mind went was to the basement of a warehouse.
Not long after the Kankakee County farm, Amelia had confessed to him that she wasn’t sure she’d been justified when she shot and killed Alton Dalessio. Though Joseph Larson had backed up her account of self-defense, and though the Bureau had closed the standard inquiry, the possibility remained that she’d pulled the trigger prematurely.
According to Amelia’s own version of events, she had been in a state of hyper-awareness, and she could have misinterpreted one of Dalessio’s movements.
As far as Zane was concerned, and as far as the Central Intelligence Agency would have been concerned, she’d made the right call. Threatening movement or not, she’d feared for her life as she stood in front of a man who’d just murdered four innocent girls. Dalessio had deserved far worse, and Zane would take Amelia’s secret to his grave, if need be.
He cleared his throat to force any combativeness out of his tone. “What about Storm?”
The SAC lifted a calm down hand. “I’m not accusing her of anything. But I know you two are close, and I want to make sure that’s not impacting your vigilance around her.”
He didn’t hesitate in answering. “No, Storm’s clean. We’re friends… sure… because I know she’s not dirty. That wouldn’t be the case if I thought she was cozying up with the Leóne family. Plus, she killed Alton Dalessio, and he
