Cody Walker's Woman

The executive assistant assessed Cody, noting the determined, set expression on his face. She picked up the phone and pushed a button. “Cody Walker to see you, sir.” She listened for a couple of seconds, then said, “No, he didn’t tell me what it’s about and I didn’t ask.” She hung up the phone. “You can go in,” she told him.

“Come in, Walker,” Nick D’Arcy said when Cody entered and closed the door behind him. He indicated a chair in front of his desk and said, “Have a seat.” He sat down himself, and after Cody was sitting, he said, “Is this about what happened last Friday?”

“No, it’s—” Cody broke off. “How do you know about that already?”

“It’s my business to know everything, didn’t you know?” D’Arcy chuckled, his dark-skinned face breaking into a broad smile. “But seriously, you did the right thing. Oh, yes,” he said, holding up one hand, palm outward. “I know there are those who are upset your cover was blown and that we’ll have to start all over from scratch with that investigation, but...I’d have done the same thing under the circumstances.”

“Thank you, sir. It’s good to know not everyone thinks I blew it.”

D’Arcy smiled as if he knew something Cody didn’t. “So if this isn’t about last week, then what is it?”

“The New World Militia.”

That wiped the smile from the other man’s face. “How’d you hear about that?” he asked sharply.

“Ryan Callahan. He called me a few minutes ago.”

“Damn.” The word held no heat, but Cody could tell D’Arcy was not pleased. “I was hoping I was wrong, but if Callahan is involved...” He bent a narrow-eyed gaze on Cody. “What did he tell you?”

“He wouldn’t tell me much over the phone,” Cody said, then repeated the conversation nearly verbatim, including Callahan’s statement about who he trusted...and who he didn’t.

D’Arcy didn’t say anything after Cody finished, just sat there contemplating the pencil he picked up off his desk. He seemed to reach a decision, because he looked at Cody and said, “I’ve heard rumblings of this before today. I’ve already got a team working on it.” He leaned over and pressed a switch. “Can you see if you can locate McKinnon and Jones for me? If they’re in the building, I need to see them right away.”

“McKinnon?” Cody asked after D’Arcy cut off the connection. “That wouldn’t be Trace McKinnon, would it?”

“Yeah. You remember him from six years ago, don’t you? I’ve got a feeling he’s the third man Callahan was referring to, the other man he trusts.”

“I remember him, but I thought he was still a federal marshal. I didn’t know he worked for the agency.”

D’Arcy let out a bark of laughter. “Compartmentalization. I guess it does work sometimes.” He looked at Cody from under his brows. “McKinnon was the first person I recruited after I was recruited. He’d worked for me for years before I came here—I’d trust him with my life. I knew he’d be perfect for this agency, just like I knew you would be, too.”

The corner of Cody’s mouth curved up in a rueful smile. “Not so perfect—on my part, that is. Last week—”

D’Arcy waved his hand. “I already told you to forget last week, didn’t I?” He hesitated. “I wasn’t going to tell you until all the paperwork was processed, but there will be a commendation in your personnel jacket if I have anything to say about it.”

That means it’s a done deal, Cody thought, knowing how highly respected Nick D’Arcy was by the head of their agency in Washington, D.C. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” He thought for a second, then confessed, “I couldn’t have done anything else, but...I’m glad it won’t be a mark against me.”

“Not to worry.”

Then Cody remembered the other thing D’Arcy had said, and he asked, “Rumblings? You said you’ve heard rumblings about the New World Militia?”

D’Arcy grimaced. “The FBI has been keeping a watchful eye on certain individuals for years,” he said. “But even after all this time since 9/11, we still don’t have the interagency cooperation we should have. They don’t tell us everything they know, and we’re not much better.”