“Not yet, and I dread him having to be told. The sheriff’s a good man. He might have cheated on an election or two, but he performed his duties well.”
“Thanks for delivering his message.”
Jenks gave The Major a reassuring pat on the shoulder then hurried away to
brief and issue orders to arriving officers.
The Major looked at Trapper. “You saw my name on Wilcox’s list?”
“He made sure I did.”
“And you still handed it over to the FBI?”
“I had to. I didn’t want to. I struggled with it, but—”
“But being you, you had to.”
“I did, yeah.”
The Major smiled shakily. “I’m proud of you for it.” He took a rattling breath. “I hoped all this would go away without you ever knowing.”
“Well, it didn’t go away. And I do know. I know everything except the nature of your pact with Wilcox. Was it connected to that lucrative book and movie deal?”
“No.”
Trapper bent his head low and blinked tears out of his eyes. “Just tell me…please tell me that you didn’t bomb the Pegasus Hotel.”
The Major fumbled for his hand and grasped it. “No, John. No. Is that what you thought?”
“It’s what I feared. I’ve been through hell fearing it. When I started investigating the bombing, realized the three who took the blame were under orders from somebody else, I thought that maybe you were one of them, too, but had been lucky enough to get out.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because, except for Wilcox, you benefited from that goddamn disaster more than anybody. You built a career off it.”
“Fate. Right place, right time. That’s all it was.”
“Then why’d you strike a bargain with Wilcox?”
“I swear on your mother’s soul that I never had any dealings with him until three years ago when you started making headway on your investigation into him.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Trapper groaned, “I don’t want to hear this.”
“You did nothing wrong. You were doing your job. You’re only to blame for being very good at it and being persistent. Wilcox reeled me in, told me I must, must, discredit you, dismiss your conspiracy theory, denounce you and anything you alleged.”
“Or what? What could he do? Cancel your hero status?”
“Kill Marianne.”
Trapper flinched.
“It’s worse,” The Major said. “He assured me that all the evidence would point to you.”
Trapper looked across at Kerra, saw her horror, and said, “I’ve seen the names on his list. He could have made it happen.” Going back to his father, he asked, “Why her? Why not just pop me?”
“Because he didn’t know what you had on him, how much you’d uncovered and shared with your superiors. If you were killed, he was afraid of what you might be leaving behind for future analysis. But my denunciation of you would go a long way, he said. He told me to discredit you, or else. Even if you were acquitted for your fiancée’s murder—”
“My reputation, my life, would have been destroyed. They were destroyed.”