Inadvertent Disclosure (18 page)

CHAPTER 29

Sasha hurried down the darkened
hallway to the stairs and took them lightly, one hand sliding along the
railing. She could see the door, illuminated by the emergency exit light
hanging above it.

Almost there.

Her feet hit the landing at the
bottom of the stairs and she moved forward, toward the door.

A tall figure stepped out from
the entrance to the empty deli space to her left and stood between her and the
exit, blocking her way. The exit sign shined down on him, casting a red glow on
his sharp, bony face, feral eyes, and long, stringy ponytail.

Jay. And this time he didn’t
have a stick in his hand. He had a gun.

She stood, motionless, and
waited for him to tell her to put her hands up. Then it would be a fluid series
of moves and she would have his gun while he had a broken trigger finger and,
unless he was luckier than Connelly had been, a broken nose.

“Turn around,” he said,
gesturing with the gun.

She was going to need a new
plan.

She did as he said.

He moved close behind her and
pulled her wrists together behind her back. In a fast, fluid motion he snapped
a set of handcuffs around her wrists.

“We need to talk,” he said.

He grabbed her by the shoulders
and pushed her into the retail space. He guided her into a chair that sat at a
dusty laminated table.

The deli owners had sold off
most of their fixtures before they’d vacated the space, but a few tables and
chairs were left behind, scattered across the room. Standing guard over them
was an empty, unplugged drink cooler, its SoBe juice sign darkened and its door
hanging ajar.

She ran through the scenario in
her mind. She was in an abandoned building with a suspected killer who had
previously attacked her. Connelly would eventually start looking for her; but
he would likely call her office line, get no answer, cross it off the list of
places to look, and search elsewhere. Less than ideal facts.

Fighting her way out had just
become a remote possibility. She’d have to put her oral advocacy skills to work
and talk her way out.

“Jay,” she began, “I don’t
think you’ve thought this through.”

He smiled. “No?”

He took a seat across the table
from her and splayed his long, thin hands out across the table.

“Is this the part where you
show me the error of my ways and convince me to confess to killing Judge
Paulson and turn myself into that idiot pig sheriff?”

She smiled back, ignoring the cold
stainless steel digging into the undersides of her wrists.

Well, yes, it was. But, when he
put it that way, it sounded like a fairly lame plan. It was, however, the only
one she had at the moment.

He didn’t wait for a response.

“Here are the flaws with your
plan, if that is what you’re thinking. First—and this is a pretty big one—I
didn’t kill Judge Paulson. And, as if that weren’t enough, second, your
ill-advised press conference may have compromised my investigation. The
Bureau’s not going to be happy about that.”

He leaned back and smirked as
comprehension flooded her face.

“The Bureau?  You’re with the
FBI?”

Relief coursed through her body
in a wave. She figured she was in some amount of trouble, but she wasn’t going
to be raped or killed or both.

“Correct. I apologize for the
ambush, but this is an unofficial visit. Given your propensity for violence and
apparent belief that I’m a killer, well, the cuffs seemed advisable.”

She decided not to point out
that he also had a propensity for violence.

“Am I under arrest?”

“Not at this point.”

“Then, how about you take off
the handcuffs? I promise not to beat you up again.” She smiled.

He shook his head. “Hilarious.
No, sorry. I didn’t track you down just to have you take off on me. This thing
is big, nationwide. I can’t risk you doing any more damage than you’ve already
done.”

She considered forcing the
issue. He had no legitimate reason to keep her in restraints. But, she was too
curious to hear about his investigation to push it.

“So, you’re undercover?”

“Correct. And you and that
moronic sheriff have jeopardized a massive domestic terrorism investigation.”

“You’re investigating PORE?  As
suspected terrorists?”

“PORE and others. McAllister has
been on our radar since ‘08, when the natural gas boom hit Clear Brook County
in a big way. McAllister seized on hydrofracking as the issue that would
catapult him from drum circles in the woods to the national spotlight. We
watched and waited, looking for an opportunity to infiltrate his organization.
Once he started the website, boom, I had my in.”

“I thought PORE was
nonviolent.”

Russell had told her that,
until the attack on her, the most destructive act PORE had undertaken was when
Danny chained himself to a collection tank, which resulted in a work stoppage
for most of a morning while the crew and the state troopers looked for a pair
of wire cutters to cut him free and drag him off the property.

No one had been harmed but Big
Sky had been furious. The company pressed trespassing charges and threatened to
file a civil suit as well, claiming it had sustained lost profits of nearly a
quarter of a million dollars because of his stunt. According to Russell, Danny
had hired Marty Braeburn to negotiate a quick confidential settlement and the
criminal charges had gone away, as well.

The FBI agent had a different
view of Danny Trees’s shenanigans.

“PORE’s original focus was on
economic terrorism, aimed at harming the oil and gas companies’ bottom line,
but, as you experienced firsthand, they’ve recently moved on to destruction of
personal property and physical attacks. In addition, they’re loosely affiliated
with a network of similar cells, spread throughout the country. Some of their
compatriots in the Pacific Northwest have ramped up the violence recently.”

She looked at him closely. He
didn’t seem to be joking.

“Okay, I’m pretty sure Danny
slashed my tires, and I think you and Danny both pelted me with rocks, but
everything else was you, remember?  You tried to smash my windshield. Everyone
else split, but Danny tried to stop you, Agent . . .”

“Stock. Agent Jared Stock. The
details aren’t important. McAllister participated in a violent attack on an
unarmed woman in furtherance of his radical environmental agenda.”

The laugh escaped before she
could stop it.

“Agent Stock, let’s be serious.
He couldn’t convince you to stop, so he left. Then you attacked me with your
stick. Or tried to, at any rate.”

Stock’s nostrils flared. “What
was that move you used? Jujitsu?”

“Krav Maga.”

He gave her a rueful look. “You
caught me off guard.”

“And, it’s a good thing I did.
Otherwise, you’d have viciously beaten me, and the hapless Danny Trees would
have faced terrorism charges for an attack incited by and ultimately carried
out by a federal agent. Is that right?”

“I’m not going to sit here and
try to convince you of how very dangerous PORE and organizations like it are,
Ms. McCandless. Your government has deemed domestic ecoterrorism to be a
profound threat to national security. If you disagree, write your congressman.
I’m here because I need you to convince the sheriff to find himself a new
suspect and get that sketch of me off the news. I didn’t murder Judge Paulson,
but someone did. Quite possibly, that someone’s a member of the PORE cell. That
fits with the evidence allegedly found in my bag. Someone in PORE could have
killed him then conveniently framed the guy who had disappeared.”

“Which of the dangerous
ecoterrorists do you suspect?  Melanie?  Or maybe Flower?”

“As I said, I’m not going to
debate national security with you. Will you help me or not?”

It wasn’t as though she had
much free choice in the matter, given the handcuffs and the gun. But the
reality was, she didn’t have any power to help him.

“If you saw the press
conference, then you know the attorney general shut down my investigation. It’s
over, Agent Stock.”

He banged his open palm against
the table. “Get him to reopen it. There’s a killer out there.”

Sasha thought. “Did you search
Judge Paulson’s office on Tuesday evening?  Or try to get into his apartment
later that night?”

He met her eyes with a level
gaze.

“No. And, no. Up until the
press conference I had no professional interest in the judge’s murder. I didn’t
have any reason to believe anyone at PORE was involved. In fact, McAllister
seemed to regard Judge Paulson as a fair judge—as close to a friend as the
movement was likely to have among the local decision-makers. He was optimistic
the judge would rule against Big Sky on the county commissioners’ decision to
consider the drilling moratorium petition he’d presented.”

“Then nobody affiliated with
PORE would want to see the judge killed,” Sasha said. “Why do you think a PORE
member framed you?”

“Who else had the means and
opportunity?”

Lots of people, including
Stickley and Russell, for starters, she thought, but kept it to herself.

Instead, she said, “But no
motive. You just said they considered the judge to be a friend. So, it stands
to reason that PORE wouldn’t have any reason to see Judge Paulson dead. But, if
Big Sky shared Danny’s assessment of the judge’s leanings, then the company
might.”

Stock shifted his weight in the
chair and launched into doublespeak. “I can neither agree nor disagree with
that working theory. PORE considered the judge to be friendly on the drilling
moratorium issue. I have no information as to whether other issues before the
judge might have caused a PORE member, acting alone or in concert with others,
to murder him.”

She stared at him. She got the
distinct feeling that morass of qualifiers and cautions contained a message,
but, she’d be damned if she could untangle it. She knew who could, though.

“There’s someone you should
meet.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Sasha walked into her condo
with Agent Stock by her side. He’d finally agreed that the handcuffs were
overkill, but he’d kept a firm grip on her right hand during the trip from her
office to the condo. Which just showed how observant he was: she was a lefty.

Connelly stood at the kitchen
island, plating the chicken and peanut noodles. He’d set the walnut dining room
table he'd convinced her to pick up at an estate sale so they didn’t have to
eat his lovingly prepared meals at the kitchen island. Two balloon glasses of
red wine shone, reflecting the light from the candles that sat in the center of
the table.

"Better set another place,"
she said by way of greeting. "We've got company."

"So I see," he
answered, wiping his hands on the dish towel he'd tucked into his waistband. He
came around to the small foyer and extended a hand, "Special Agent Leo
Connelly, Department of Homeland Security."

Hardly a social greeting, but,
in his defense, he was addressing a disheveled wildman who was manhandling his
girlfriend.

Agent Stock eyed him coolly.
Then he nodded and dropped Sasha's hand and shook Connelly's.

"Agent Jared Stock. I'm
with the Bureau. Domestic Counterterrorism."

Connelly shot Sasha a look.

"Also known as Jay,"
she explained.

Connelly half-nodded with a
knowing expression. "Let me guess. You're on the frontline of the nation's
fight against ecoterrorists, specifically PORE.”

"Correct. My assignment
is—or was—to monitor their actions, particularly any planned violent protests
or criminal activities they may engage in to raise money for their cause. As I
explained to Ms. McCandless, the Springport sheriff's idiotic theory that I
killed that judge poses some serious problems for my continued ability to
perform undercover work and for a nationwide investigation into radical
environmental groups."

Connelly bobbed his head in
understanding.

Sasha narrowed her eyes and
looked hard at Connelly. "Why don't you seem surprised by this
development?"

“The reason I went to my office
was to run down a hunch,” he told her. “I thought ‘Jay’ might be a plant, but I
was thinking Big Sky had placed him in PORE to stir up trouble. A source at the
EPA CID told me that wasn’t Big Sky’s style. It occurred to me, though, that it
is
our
style. So, I did a little checking. All the information I tried
to access about PORE was locked down—DNTK—demonstrate need to know. Even when I
called in a personal favor, I hit a brick wall. That smelled like someone had
an undercover agent in place or, more likely, several undercover agents spread
out throughout a network.”