“Denied entry into the FBI’s system.”
“On one case or all of them?”
I shifted to another screen and the last case I worked on, getting into the case although certain access appeared limited. That made sense. I was no longer an officer. “Just the one.” Even that troubled me. It was as if I’d been labeled a troublemaker or worse. Who the fuck had limited my access?
Hissing, I tried it once again, now thoroughly disgusted. What if there was some strange cover-up? Even I knew my ranting wasn’t going to change anything. I couldn’t go down that path. It wouldn’t do me any good.
“You did stop being an officer of the law.”
“Yeah, well, the FBI is slow in altering their systems. Besides, I had access for the latest books less than two months ago.”
“So someone got wiser. I had to call in several favors,” Chase continued. “Our instincts were correct about the birth certificate. Forged. There’s no information as to why, at least that my source could find. What we do know is that Samuel Wells was born in Germany. There was a note attached to the birth certificate that survived forty-two years.”
“What was the note?”
“Baby number one. Don’t go celebrating yet. There’s no indication of a second birth. I emailed the information. Did you get it?”
I’d just opened the email, shaking my head as I read over the information.
“I got it. I can’t say it leaves me with any additional warm fuzzies than I have right now.”
He chuckled. “And I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“Why the lie about the birth certificate?
“If my initial hunch was correct and one parent was a US citizen serving in the military, then it was likely done to cut through the red tape of the child being born in another country. I know what you’re going to say about the kid already being a US citizen, but we don’t know the background of the mother. Maybe she was German and there were family issues. Who knows.”
“This just isn’t making much sense.”
“You’re right. I have a bad feeling about this, bud. Why in God’s name would anyone be covering up the possibility the real killer is out there?”
I sat back, scrubbing my jaw, fuming more than before. “Think about how many people touched this case. Two dozen FBI agents. A half dozen DEA. Countless police officers in several jurisdictions. Two mayors, a governor. An attorney general. Hell, even senators weighed in.”
“Yeah, and a partridge in a pear tree,” he chortled. “You’re suggesting a possible cover-up because they don’t want to embarrass themselves?”
Even as little as a year ago, I’d laugh off my suspicions. But after everything I’d seen and heard, the missions we’d undertaken and the corruption we’d encountered, anything was possible.
The entire fucking judicial system was as political as everything else. Which was one reason readers adored my books. People needed an unconventional hero. Mine certainly were.
Maybe that’s why my beautiful house guest had been drawn to me in the first place. I still could not believe the deal she’d proctored with Carter.
I’d been trying to get more money for years.
He’d even sent over the new contracts.
“Maybe, but we can’t go tossing that around. I like making money,” I teased in return. “Besides, it was agreed all evidence pointed to Samuel’s guilt. Why should anyone think otherwise? He’s not screaming about being innocent.”
“Yeah, why is that? If he’s taking the place of a family member, why?”
“Maybe there are worse fates than facing a needle.”
Chase huffed. “Or maybe Samuel felt honored to protect the real killer.”
“Maybe.”
What now? So many fucking questions that started out the same way. I tapped my finger on the table, still staring at the computer screen. I’d also made a call to my old partner, who still worked with the FBI. Maybe there was a new rule and since I hadn’t been an employee in a long time, I had no access to anything other than the basics.
However, I had a very bad feeling she had no idea what I was talking about. Or that’s what she’d tell me anyway.
