“Oh, you probably didn’t know him as a boot,” Mac countered. “But you knew there were men out attacking Latinos, didn’t you? How could you not? It was making headlines.”
“I read about it, I suppose,” he admitted. “But you’re making connections that don’t exist.”
Mac smiled. “And then you went back to college, got a master’s in forest management and signed on to the Park Service. In the last 20 years since then, you’ve been at five different parks including this one. That’s a lot of moves. Park Service rangers are usually more stationary.”
Peabody shrugged. “I like seeing the country,” he said. “I’m single. Why not?”
“Haven’t always been single though,” Mac interjected. “You were married. Got divorced in San Diego. Tried to get custody of your son and lost. Explains a lot of the rhetoric around custody battles in Mount Vernon among your fans, doesn’t it? The divorce was interesting — one of her concerns was your growing obsession with weaponry and prepping for disaster.”
One of the things Mac had learned working this story was the value of searching civil cases and records when doing a backgrounder on someone. Mike Brewster had been really helpful with that.
“So?” Peabody said defensively.
“It’s interesting, that’s all,” Mac said. “Your presence in this region has increased the number of divorces linked to weapons significantly.”
“You’re reaching, Mac,” he said, dismissing the link.
Mac just grinned. “Well it’s not as significant as the increase in hate crimes wherever you go, and then they taper off when you move on. Come on, Peabody, just admit it. You’re Sensei. You’ve got 40,000 followers on Facebook. You finally found the medium to sell your white militia message. And it’s been resonating and growing. Aren’t you proud of it? Why hide? It’s just you and me, sitting in your house, talking.”
Peabody laughed. “I’ve read some of Sensei’s posts,” he said. “I have to say I agree with a lot of what he says. But I’m not interested in the massive number of followers he has. I’m interested in a few who can step forward and lead.”
“And yet? Norton? He stepped forward and you — Sensei — smashed him to pieces,” Mac said. “Can you speculate why Sensei would do that? Seems like he’s what Sensei said he was looking for.”
“Norton is power-hungry. He didn’t want to lead under Sensei’s command,” Peabody said. “I’m speculating here, but my guess is Sensei didn’t see Norton as a worthy inheritor.”
“But why not? It seems to me, he was exactly what you — Sensei — would want. Or is Craig Anderson a better fit? Or Andy Malloy? Seems like you just burned all of your potential second in command possibilities,” Mac said.
Peabody laughed. “You don’t list yourself, Mac?”
“As a possible second in command for a white militia?” Mac said, shaking his head. “No, that’s not me. First, I think white supremacy is a sickness that will destroy this country. And second? Sensei isn’t strong enough for me to be second to.”
Mac shrugged; his eyes didn’t leave Sensei. “Sensei is too stupid. He doesn’t understand organizational structure. He just wasted his best men for entertainment. If I shared his values? The first thing I would do is take him out.”
Peabody flinched. “You dare!” He hissed and pulled his gun out and aimed it at Mac who just looked at him and smiled wickedly.
“I’m not working alone, Sensei,” he said. “You should have thought about that. See what I mean?”
Peabody looked behind him, where Rand was standing, his weapon pointed at the man. “Give me an excuse, Edward,” he said. “I thought you were an honorable man. When Mac said you were behind this madness, I argued against him. He said, let’s go see. And I still thought he was wrong. But there are dead men who shouldn’t be dead. There are families and men who are damaged and may never heal. So, go ahead, let’s make a bet. You try and pull the trigger? And I bet I can kill you before you can hit Mac. I’m betting he can move fast. So, go ahead. Or you can drop the weapon, and I’ll read you your rights, and we’ll do it by the book. Your choice.”
Mac watched Peabody carefully. He had his own gun out now and leveled at Peabody, but Peabody didn’t even look around to see. He dropped the weapon where he sat.
“Sorry, Rand,” Mac said.
“Yeah,” Rand said. He pulled Peabody out the chair and cuffed him. “Fucking sucks.”
Chapter 28
(3 p.m., May 30, 2014, Seattle Examiner conference room)
Mac walked into the executive conference room, uninvited. If they didn’t like it they could fire him. Because if this went south, he’d be out a job in short order anyway. He took the empty chair at the end of the table next to the door opposite the trinity: publisher, executive editor, managing editor. Steve Whitaker was to his left, next to the ME; Janet to his right next to the Exec.
“I apologize for coming in uninvited,” Mac started. “But in the last few weeks I’ve learned some things — besides the scary rise in anti-government extremists — that I thought you should know. A friend told me a newspaper has just as active a gossip grapevine as the cop shop does, and if I thought it was important to know cop gossip, I should also make it a priority to hear newsroom gossip.
“Mac,” Steve Whitaker began.
“Don’t interrupt, please,” Mac said. “So, I learned there are people who want Janet fired for last fall. Staff seems to fall into three camps. The biggest one was pro-Janet, and everyone here — and out there — knows I’m on that team. But there were two other groups that were joining up and might be her downfall —it’s an odd coalition. One group is the numbers crowd. The investigative journalists who like data-driven stories.
