Worley kept staring at the girls. He took a long drink and said, “I think we’re done here.”
Brodie remained seated. He said, “Here are the questions that are running through my military mind and my criminal investigator mind: Why did a decorated war hero desert his unit? And did he kill Robert Crenshaw? And why? And why did he come to Venezuela?”
“Ask him if you actually sit next to him at the whorehouse bar. He’d be happy to answer your questions before he kills you.”
“Let’s be optimistic. Let’s say I do get to ask him those questions, and I live to tell about it. Do you think his answers will reveal something more than Captain Mercer making some bad career choices?”
Worley replied, “Obviously there is more to this than meets the eye. Any idiot—even a cop—can figure that out. What you also have to figure out, Mr. Brodie—and Ms. Taylor—is if you really want to know more than you’re supposed to know.”
More secret agent posturing and bullshit, thought Brodie. But Worley had a point. Also, maybe Brodie shouldn’t be sharing his thoughts and concerns with Brendan Worley, but sometimes you have to shake the tree to see what falls out. In any case, Colonel Worley didn’t believe that his two CID guests would have Kyle Mercer in custody tonight, or any night. So this was just Worley doing what these people did best—warning mere mortals not to tread on their sacred ground.
Brodie stood. “I’ll call you tonight.” He added, “And don’t forget Luis’ family tourist visa.”
Taylor rose too, and said to their host, “The arrest of Captain Mercer is not the end of our mission. It is just the beginning of the investigation into the questions we’ve raised here.”
Worley replied, “You disappoint me, Ms. Taylor. I thought you were the rational member of the team.”
She continued, as per textbook, “You may be called upon in future investigations or judicial proceedings to provide truthful testimony in this case.”
Brodie couldn’t help but say, “Now he’s definitely not answering the phone tonight.”
Worley laughed, and so did Brodie. Taylor looked at both of them as if to say, “Men.The brotherhood of assholes.” She began walking across the sand toward the parking lot.
Brodie followed and caught up with her. “I thought we were going to do a group hug.”
She ignored that. “You shouldn’t have raised any of those questions with him. We need him tonight, and you antagonized him.”
“Me? You just told him he’d be called on to provide truthful testimony.”
“If he had a truthful thought in his head, it would die of loneliness.” She looked at him. “Scott… we need to leave this alone. We have enough to do here.”
“Then why did you bring up Afghanistan?”
“You were going to ask him anyway, so I did it in an indirect way. As we were taught to do.”
“I missed that class.”
They reached the parking lot and headed for what looked like the clubhouse where they could call a taxi.
Taylor said, “He gives me the creeps.”
“That’s what he wants to do. Look, I’ve worked cases where I butted heads with CIA guys, Army Intel, and spooks from other agencies. They go out of their way to make you think they’re doing you a favor by keeping information from you that could be dangerous for you to know. They invented the phrase ‘If I tell you, then I have to kill you.’ It’s ninety percent bullshit.”
“How about the other ten percent?”
“That’s the part thatcouldget you killed. And on that subject, Brendan Worley thinks we’re the walking dead, so I wonder if there really is an aircraft waiting to take us out of here.”
She glanced at him. “You’re scaring me, Scott.”
“Hey, I scare myself sometimes.” He added, “As they say in the infantry, the best-thought-out battle plans fall apart as soon as the first shot is fired. Then you improvise.”
“Unless that first shot went through your head.”
“Never thought of that.”
They reached the clubhouse and Brodie said, “Ask for a taxi driven by a free-market capitalist.”
She went into the building and Brodie stood in the sunlight, watching the gulls over the water. Well, they’d stirred the shit a bit, and he could picture Worley on the phone with the appropriate people, saying something like, “This guy has made some connections. He and the lady need to be spoken to when they get back to the States.” Or Worley might say, “But don’t worry about them. They’ll probably get themselves killed tonight.”
