“Trace!” Keira felt her face flushing, and knew she’d betrayed herself.
He smiled wryly, and his eyes met hers. “Yeah, it’s none of my business. I know that. But knowing you, if you are sleeping with him, you’re worried I might think badly of you if I found out. I just want you to know I don’t, that’s all.”
“I never thought you—that is, I did think you might—but I don’t want—oh, God...” She was hopelessly lost in a morass of half sentences, none of which she knew how to end. Trace’s eyes held understanding and a glint of humor. “Oh, damn you,” she said without heat.
Chapter 21
When Cody walked into Callahan’s house, the first thing he noticed was that Keira was studiously avoiding her partner, and his internal radar started buzzing. It wasn’t anything either of them said, just a strange vibe, and he wondered what the hell had happened.
But before he could ask Keira about it, Callahan hollered from the kitchen. “I’m starved. Let’s eat while we have the chance.”
Keira followed him back into the kitchen, and while the two men ate, she told them what she’d found on Ted Danvers. “Two felony convictions, and a long history of petty crimes dating back to his teens,” she said, reading from her cryptic notes. “And his name is on the NOANC donor list for the past five years.”
“Suspicious,” Cody said between bites, “but not proof of anything.”
“No, but those two felony convictions give us leverage under the ‘three-strike’ law. If he goes down for attempted murder, it’s the same as if he succeeded in killing one of us—a life sentence. We might be able to get him to talk for a reduced sentence.”
“What else have you got?” Callahan asked.
“An extended cab pickup truck registered in his name.” She gave the make, model and year. “Did you find one on the road anywhere?”
“No,” Cody answered.
“I didn’t think you would.” There was that repressed excitement again, as if she could hardly wait to tell them what else she’d uncovered. “Ted Danvers has two brothers, Brad and Joe, both younger. Same address. Also NOANC donors. And get this—Brad is an explosives expert—four years in the army, dishonorable discharge. He works for a construction company now.”
Callahan swore. “Ideal recruit for the New World Militia.”
“That’s what I thought. Trace had the agency contact the Buffalo police, to see if they could track down either brother.”
Cody asked, “And?”
Her smile lit up her eyes. “Unaccounted for. Both of them.”
Callahan put down his half-eaten sandwich and picked up the phone. “Do you have the license plate number?” She nodded and held her notebook in front of him as he dialed a number. “Jerry? It’s me. I need an APB on a vehicle, license plate...” He read the number for the all points bulletin off Keira’s notebook, along with the make, model, year and the owner’s name. “Ted Danvers is in FBI custody, but right now he’s in the hospital in Sheridan.”
He listened for a minute, then said, “Yeah. That’s right. And I also want a BOLO for two men,” he added, using the police acronym for be on the lookout. “Brad Danvers and Joe Danvers, both of Buffalo.” He mouthed the word, “address,” at Keira. She flipped back in her notebook and held it up so he could repeat it into the phone. “Got that? Good. Let me know the minute we get a hit on the truck or either man. Thanks.”
He hung up and looked at Cody, who nodded and said, “You want to be the good cop or the bad cop?”
Callahan chuckled and picked up his sandwich again. “I’m always the good cop, even when I play the bad one.”
* * *
Michael Vishenko’s home phone rang. “Yes?” he said when he picked it up.
“We have a slight problem,” the voice at the other end said.
“I see. Thank you for calling.” He hung up, a muscle in his jaw twitching. He reached into a desk drawer, pulled out a cell phone, and stared at it. Another failure. How was that possible? His targets were mortal. How hard could it be to kill them?