Ah, jeez. It was just as Sawyer suspected. Whoever Angie had gotten caught up with was being investigated by the feds. What the hell had his sister gotten herself into?
“Is she alive? Please tell me he at least told you that much.”
Cash blew out a breath. “He wouldn’t go there. But what I was able to wheedle out of him was that the email address is a burner used by the US Marshals Service.”
“How do they fit in?” Sawyer asked, perplexed. Marshals provided security in the federal courts, transported criminals, apprehended fugitives, forfeited assets, and performed tactical operations. What on God’s earth did they have to do with Angie?
“So it wasn’t Angie reaching out, it was someone from the US Marshals Service with a wrong email address?” He tried not to sound flip but it didn’t make a whole hell of a lot of sense.
“I may be wrong here but, yeah, I suspect it was her.” He pinned Sawyer with a look, waiting for him to catch on.
“WITSEC?” Sawyer exhaled, because the US Marshals Service also relocated witnesses in important federal cases. He tried to wrap his head around the implications. “You think she’s been in the Witness Protection Program all these years?”
“Not all of them, not if you believe she was on that Taos commune two years ago. But she may be in WITSEC now. It’s the only thing I can come up with that would involve the marshals. And when I asked Ken point-blank, he got real squirrelly.”
“Classified. That’s what he told you?”
“Yep.” Cash tilted his head to the side. “WITSEC is about as classified as you can get, short of national security.”
“Holy shit.” Sawyer scrubbed his hand over his eyes. “What about the first three years she was missing?”
Cash shrugged. “Don’t know. Clearly, she was involved in something she shouldn’t have been. Something dangerous.”
“You make it sound as if she was running around with the mob. This is Angela. The same Angela who spent a year in Japan, protesting the annual dolphin hunt in Taiji. The same Angela who chained herself to a Shell oil drilling rig in New Zealand. The same Angela who thinks she can change the world. Not Sammy ‘the Bull’ Gravano.”
“WITSEC isn’t just for gangsters, Sawyer. These protest groups may seem benign, even heroic, but some of them are breaking the law. Some are even committing acts of domestic terrorism. The feds take that shit seriously.”
“So Angela turned state’s evidence against the followers of the Dalai Lama?” Sawyer didn’t know why he was reacting with such vitriol and sarcasm. If Cash was right, he should be thanking his lucky stars that his sister was alive.
Safe.
“Don’t kill the messenger.” Cash took a sip of his Frapuccino, put the cup down, and hitched his shoulders. “I don’t even know for sure that this is the case. It’s only a theory.”
“How can we confirm it?” Sawyer had sources on the Senate Judiciary Committee. He didn’t like to use his influence as a journalist for personal reasons, thought it was unethical. But for the sake of his family he would. He would move mountains if it meant getting his sister back.
“I’ll make a few calls. Ken’s a mid-level analyst. I doubt he even knows the full story. More than likely he set off alarm bells when he traced the email to the marshals and was told to keep his nose out of it. There are higher-ups who owe me favors. Let’s see what strings I can pull.”
Sawyer started to say “thank you” and stopped himself. Cash had been right to complain the last time Sawyer had thanked his cousin. This is what the Daltons did. They looked out for one another.
Cowboy strong.
“This is good news.” Sawyer chucked Cash on the shoulder. His findings filled Sawyer with so much hope that he’d nearly wrapped his cousin in a bear hug. But not in the middle of a Starbucks.
“We don’t know that yet,” Cash cautioned. “This is merely speculation. But we’re on the right track. I feel it in my bones.”
Cash had always had good instincts. That’s why he’d been such a successful agent in the FBI. And now, a badass investigator for the Bureau of Livestock Identification.
“How soon until we know more?”
“I’ll do my best, Sawyer. But greasing the right wheels takes time. In the meantime, let’s not tell my folks. My dad’ll go apeshit and start making a lot of noise. This needs to be done quietly, with discretion.”
Sawyer nodded. “Until we know more, I won’t say anything to my folks, either. I don’t want to dare to hope yet.”
“And even if it’s true, Sawyer, the likelihood of a big, happy family reunion is next to nil. For her own safety, she may have to stay lost to us forever.”
The answers could be bittersweet for sure. But Sawyer could only focus on one thing at a time. Right now, proof of life would be a major victory.
* * * *
