Fit to be Tied (Marshals 2)
Page 76
“Why aren’t you dressing up right now?”
I shrugged. “I’m stuck in the office, and with my broken ankle I can’t wear any of my good shoes.”
“You’re wearing one combat boot, I see.”
It was Ian’s, and since it was already beat to crap, I didn’t feel bad wearing only the one. “Yeah. I don’t want any of my good shoes wearing unevenly so—gotta wait.”
“That’s important to you.”
“What’s that?”
“That your shoes wear evenly.”
“Sure,” I agreed.
He nodded and was quiet a moment, writing. I wondered what deep truth he had ferreted out of me with my confession about the soles of my shoes.
“So tell me about Agent Wojno.”
“What would you like to know?”
“Anything you’d like to tell me.”
I thought a second. “He didn’t deserve to die like he did.”
He stared at me.
“And I’m glad they only told his family that he was killed, but not how.”
“Did you know he was married?”
“He was divorced.”
“Yes, but that’s not what I asked. What I asked was, did you know he was married when you first met him?”
I cleared my throat. “No.”
“Did you have a relationship with Agent Wojno?”
“No.”
“No, you didn’t have a relationship with him?”
“I had sex with him three or four times. It was not a relationship.”
“You didn’t go drinking together?”
“No.”
“You didn’t have him over to eat pizza and watch a movie?”
I leaned forward. “No.”
“Are you sure?”
I met his gaze. “If we ran into each other and it was convenient, we’d hook up. I went to his place once, there were a couple of bathrooms, and his car, if I’m remembering right. I never had him over and we didn’t hang out.”
He nodded. “Well, then, please explain to me why you feel so much guilt over his death.”
I was surprised. “What’re you talking about?”
“Everyone I’ve talked to, including your boss and your partner, say that you’re not yourself. You come in, you go right to the back and sit in the computer room where you answer the phone all day, run searches, and work cases from the desktop.”
“That’s all I can do right now.”
“Yes, it’s true, but also, you wear your White Sox cap in every day, you’re always in jeans or chinos, you’re always in a hoodie and the one boot.”
I threw up my hands. “I have no clue why any of that matters at all.”
“No?”
“I’m doing my job!”
“Craig Hartley is still at large.”
“Yes, I know that.”
“His sister is in WITSEC.”
“I know that as well.”
“Your old partner, the police detective, Norris Cochran, was put on paid leave, and he and his family were relocated for the foreseeable future.”
“I’m seriously waiting for you to tell me something I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you go?”
I scoffed. “We tried that. He found me.”
“Because of Agent Wojno.”
“Yep.”
“But the leak is gone now. It won’t happen again. You could go to another city and work, and there would be no issue.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Who’s to say? I’d rather be home here where I know everyone, than in another city trying to get acclimated.”
“But there are people here that Hartley might hurt to get to you.”
I scowled at him.
“Marshal?”
“Did you ever meet Craig Hartley?”
“Yes, I did. We were colleagues.”
“Well, then, you know hurting someone I care about is not something he’d do.”
“But you cautioned your friend Aruna not to visit your home while you were in Phoenix.”
“Because if he was at my house and she stumbled onto him, he’d have to hurt her on general principal, from a witness perspective. But he would never go over to her house for the express purpose of harming her to get at me. He wouldn’t see the point of that when he could hurt me directly.”
“And your partner—Marshal Doyle? Aren’t you worried about him?”
“The same dynamic applies. If Marshal Doyle was protecting me when Hartley was trying to hurt me, that’s when he’d get hurt. But hurting Marshal Doyle to punish me or make me suffer is not his way.”
“No?”
“No. He’s got this huge ego, right? If he’s trying to hurt me, it’s me he wants.”
“So you’re only worried about others getting caught in the crossfire.”
“Yes.”
He studied me a moment, his small sepia eyes taking my measure. “Why do you feel guilty about Wojno?”
“I don’t.”
“He betrayed you.”
“He did.”
“He would have let you die to save himself.”
“Yes.”
“When the joint task force between the FBI and the marshals service went through his personal e-mail, downloaded his calls and other correspondence, they found that Wojno was personally recruited by Hartley to get close to you and sleep with you because Hartley wanted to know everything about you, right up to what you were like in bed.”
“I’ve been briefed,” I said sharply because I was so sick of thinking about this, having it all run around day and night in my head, that I was ready to put my fist through a wall.
“Hartley was blackmailing Wojno, yes, but his plan wouldn’t have worked if you hadn’t slept with him.”