“Not only did he not kill us, but he also told us where the bodies were. Whoever killed the president and her people tried to dispose of the bodies. If the average person had come upon the burned van, they would not have been able to recognize the corpses,” Liam said.
“Crispy critters,” Grace said, eliciting a chuckle from Logan.
“They weren’t recognizable as humans, but we’ve had a little experience in that area.”
“The bus crash,” Grace prompted.
“Yeah, the bus crash,” Logan said. He turned to Bob and explained. “Back about a dozen years ago, there was a bus crash and it caught fire. It was full of old people who couldn’t get around so good. Most got out, but a few were trapped and died. I think there were six of them who were burned up. The local news media caught one of the old detectives comparing the victims to Viet Cong soldiers being burned up by Napalm strikes. He called them crispy critters.”
“The media played it up and the public was outraged. He was forced to retire,” Liam said. “Pity, he was a damn good cop. Anyway, Fred found the bodies and pointed them out to us. Based on that alone, I don’t think there is any way he or Zach killed the president.”
“I hope you’re right,” Priss said.
Liam shrugged. “Me too.”
Chapter 6 – Bringing Home the Pres
The snow had stopped during the night, but the next morning was bitter cold with the thermometer hovering in the teens. They were told the night before they were expected to leave at first light and conduct two missions.
The first mission was to perform a follow-up with Mister Fred McCoy. The way VanAllen and Rhinehart worded it, they were to give Fred a good, old-fashioned police interrogation. There was a wink and a nod from Rhinehart when this directive was given, implying they were to use whatever means necessary to extract information from Mister McCoy. Little did they know, the O’Malley brothers had far more respect for Fred McCoy than any erstwhile politician and any questioning would be done respectfully.
The second mission was to retrieve the bodies of the late president and her entourage. It did not seem logical that they were to pause their investigation simply to transport the bodies. After all, they got all the information they were going to get from the corpses, but orders were orders.
The brothers were dressed alike this morning, brown insulated overalls with similar colored jackets and gray handknit crew caps. They were both wearing thermal underwear and a double pair of wool socks under their boots, but they could still feel the biting cold. Priss was wearing an insulated snowsuit with a once fashionable knit beanie cap, boots, and heavy mittens. She started complaining about the cold as soon as she walked outside.
The three of them walked together to the motor pool where Logan signed out a military M35 two-and-a-half-ton truck from the motor pool. Josue reminded them of the effect of cold weather on big diesel engines and to not shut off the truck for an extended period unless they had to. Priss shared the passenger seat with her lover.
“Don’t think I don’t know why you brought me along,” Priss said.
“Why is that, my little love-muffin?” Liam asked.
“You think Fred won’t be as inclined to shoot you if there’s a woman present.”
Liam glanced over at Logan. “We’ve been busted, brother.”
Logan acted surprised, causing Priss to scoff. When they stopped at the main gate, they made a point of telling them they were going to see Fred and if they did not make hourly radio contact, perhaps they should send the QRF to retrieve their remains.
The roads were covered with a mixture of snow and ice, but with careful driving by Logan they safely arrived at Fred and Rachel’s home fifteen minutes later. They could see footprints in the snow where someone had walked up to their heavily fortified gate and opened it, as if they knew visitors were coming this morning. When they drove up the winding drive to the house, they saw Fred out by the woodshed, splitting logs. He was wearing jeans, a long flannel shirt, and a felt cowboy hat. The three of them mentally wondered how he wasn’t freezing to death.
Fred barely glanced up at their approach and kept swinging the axe, splitting the logs with seeming ease. Setting the parking brake, the three of them exchanged a glance with each other before exiting the truck and walking over to Fred.
“Good morning, Fred,” Logan greeted.
Fred stopped and faced them. “Morning. Which one is it?”
“Pardon?” Logan asked.
“Are you here to arrest me or ask questions?”
“Is Zach here?” Priss blurted. The two brothers tensed up. She noticed. “What? That’s what we’ve been ordered to find out. May as well get to the point, right Mister Fred?”
He stared at the three of them for a moment before answering. “I’ve not seen Zach and his family since the day they left.” He then took his hat off and wiped his brow before focusing on Priss.
“Rachel is inside and I’m sure she’d like some female company.”
“Yeah, okay, I get it. Men-talk is about to happen.” She made a point of looking to the sky and shaking her head before walking to the house. Fred waited for her to go inside before speaking.
“She’s the daughter of Rhinehart. He’s one of those old school sociopathic politicians. Maybe you two shouldn’t be so trusting,” he said.
“She’s got her moments, but she’s alright,” Liam said, a little defensively.
Fred stared at Liam a moment. “You men need to watch yourselves. Those politicians back at Weather are manipulators. That’s what happens when you become a politician, you master the art of lying and manipulating. They’re going to convince you two they’re on your side and they’ll use you to do their dirty work for them if you let them. Stark tried the same with Zach and I.”
He set up a log on a stump and
