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  Hunter’s shirt cuffs were rolled up on his forearms and when he shook his hand Logan noticed a pale scar running up his right arm: the wound from the bank robbery. He looked serious. In fact, he looked like he was always serious.

  Cahill shook hands with Hunter and they sat looking at each other across the table. Collins stood leaning against the wall just inside the door. He folded his arms across his chest and crossed his feet.

  ‘Danny … I mean Detective Collins said this was something about the death of an FBI agent.’

  Logan nodded.

  ‘What does it have to do with me?’

  ‘We don’t know that it has anything to do with you yet. That’s why we’re here.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Hunter said.

  ‘Maybe we should start at the beginning.’

  ‘That usually helps.’

  Logan looked at Cahill.

  ‘Detective,’ Cahill said, ‘so that you are aware of who we are and that we can be taken at our word, I’m a retired US army soldier and former Secret Service agent. Now I run a close protection business over in the UK. In Scotland.’

  Hunter looked closely at Cahill as he spoke but said nothing.

  ‘I’m a lawyer,’ Logan told him. ‘I work in-house with Alex.’

  ‘We’ll try not to hold that against you,’ Collins said, smiling.

  Hunter continued to look at Cahill.

  ‘You can check us out if you like,’ Cahill told him. ‘Go do it now and we’ll wait.’

  ‘Already done, Mr Cahill. You checked out.’

  ‘I used to work in the Secret Service with a guy called Tim Stark,’ Cahill said. ‘He was a Fed before he joined the service. A real all-American, you know?’

  Hunter nodded.

  ‘And a friend too. Anyway, I got a call out of the blue this week from his wife Melanie. She said he was on that plane that crashed here but no one would tell her anything and his name wasn’t on the passenger list that the airline had.’

  Logan could tell from Hunter’s face that he had no idea what this was all about but he let Cahill continue without interrupting.

  ‘I did a bit of digging on Melanie’s behalf. Cut a long story short, Tim was working undercover here in Denver on behalf of the FBI.’

  ‘How did you find out about that?’

  ‘We asked the FBI chief here.’

  ‘And he told you? Just like that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Hunter raised his eyebrows, turned and looked at Collins who remained impassive. Logan guessed that they were partners. They seemed at ease with each other and able to communicate non-verbally.

  ‘Which brings us to you,’ Logan said.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Tim Stark sent himself an e-mail before he boarded the plane. Before he died. It said “D. Hunter, Denver”. That was all.’

  ‘And you think that’s me? Sounds slim.’

  ‘We don’t know. It’s no one else in town, that’s for sure.’

  ‘You checked them out?’

  Logan nodded.

  ‘Bit of a long shot,’ Hunter said. ‘I mean, I don’t know this guy Stark. Never heard of him until you said his name.’

  ‘You know anyone in the FBI?’

  Hunter paused for a moment. Something passed across his face – something that Logan couldn’t read. He wondered if Cahill noticed it.

  ‘I’ve had some dealings with them, yes,’ Hunter said. ‘But nothing to do with whatever this might be.’

  ‘Are you dirty?’ Cahill asked.

  Logan’s head snapped to the side to look at Cahill. Hunter leaned back in his chair but held Cahill’s gaze. Collins came off the wall and stepped forward.

  Hunter stayed calm, looked at Logan.

  ‘Your friend is very direct,’ he said.

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  ‘To answer your question, no, I’m not dirty. Why do you ask?’

  ‘It would explain why Tim thought that you were someone of interest.’

  ‘If it really was me that he identified.’ He leaned forward and put his hands on the table.

  ‘Did the FBI tell you what Stark was working on? The details, I mean.’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘What did they tell you?’

  ‘They were looking at a group of ex-soldiers up to no good. They were hazy on the details of what exactly the no good part was. I don’t think they know.’

  Collins walked forward and sat in the chair next to Hunter. Logan took it as a sign of interest in the subject of ex-soldiers.

  ‘How did they come on to the FBI’s radar?’ Hunter asked.

  ‘The main guy, I don’t know his name, put some stuff in writing that got him red flagged. Probably some anti-government crap. Then he gave up his job, started buying weapons. Legal guns. Sold his house. Went off the radar.’

  ‘That kind of behaviour usually means he’s up to something, that’s for sure,’ Collins said.

  ‘You said it was a group,’ Hunter said. ‘How many?’

  ‘Don’t know. They never told us. All they said was that this guy had some associates who did the same thing. Gave up their jobs, I mean. For no apparent reason.’

  ‘Sounds like prototypical domestic terrorists,’ Collins said.

  ‘I know, right. But I’m not convinced.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’ Hunter asked.

  ‘Well, I mean, how would they finance something like that with no jobs and no capital behind them?’

  ‘Could be they hooked up with an existing group that had cash?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Unlikely there’s two groups operating in the area and the FBI hasn’t heard of either of them until now.’

  Hunter got up abruptly and said he was going to get some water. He asked them if they wanted anything and they both said yes. Hunter left, motioning for Collins to follow him.

  ‘What do you think?’ Cahill asked after they left.

  ‘I believe him when he says he’s not dirty.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘Yeah, and thank Christ for that. What the hell were you thinking coming out and asking him like that?’

  Cahill shrugged.

  ‘I got a feel for him, you know. He seemed like a good guy.’

  Logan puffed his cheeks and blew out a breath.

  ‘I swear, Alex. Working with you is taking years off my life expectancy.’

  ‘But they were definitely interested when I mentioned the soldiers, did you see that?’

  ‘I did. I expect the water was an excuse to make them leaving look casual when they really wanted to talk about it before going any further with us.’

  ‘Yeah, no doubt.’

  Hunter and Collins came back with cardboard cups for Logan and Cahill and sat at the table sipping at their own drinks.

  ‘So what are you guys working on?’ Cahill asked. ‘Anything with a military connection?’

  ‘You know that I can’t say much about an ongoing investigation.’

  ‘So that’s a yes. The Feds would be interested.’

  Hunter smiled for the first time. It changed his face, made him look much younger.

  ‘We represent the family of a victim possibly connected to your investigation,’ Logan said. ‘I mean, leaving aside how you feel about lawyers, you’d normally keep the family advised. Am I right?’

  ‘Tenuous,’ Collins said.

  ‘If there is something in this,’ Hunter added, ‘we will need to speak to the FBI. Even if I’d rather we kept it all here.’

  ‘You said you’ve dealt with the FBI in the past,’ Logan said. ‘I take it that didn’t work out so well?’

  Hunter rubbed absently at the scar on his right arm, caught himself doing it and tugged at his shirt cuff as if wanting to pull the sleeve down and cover the scar.

  ‘I have the highest respect for some people in the Bureau. One of my closest friends works out of Quantico. It’s just that …’

  Collins looked at his partner.

 
‘We all have our scars to bear?’ Cahill asked.

  Hunter held his gaze.

  ‘Yes, we do.’

  11

  ‘We’ve had a number of deaths in the city recently from drug overdoses,’ Hunter said.

  ‘Not our regular gig,’ Collins added.

  ‘You’re homicide, right?’ Logan asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Anyway,’ Hunter added, ‘we had a relatively large number of overdose deaths. Concentrated in the park over at the Capitol Building.’

  ‘How many?’

  ‘Three to start with. Two more in the last week.’

  ‘Doesn’t sound so big.’

  ‘It was also noticeable for the type of drug. A heroin derivative. Fentanyl and heroin, to be exact. Definitely not run of the mill.’

  Logan recalled hearing about something similar recently but couldn’t quite remember what it was.

  ‘Why was that so noticeable?’ Logan asked Hunter.

  ‘Heroin is not a product of desire in the US. We don’t get so much of it here. Crack cocaine is the big thing.’

  ‘So a sudden increase in heroin-related deaths means what? That you’ve got someone new in the area trying to make his mark with a new product?’

  ‘Most likely, yes.’

  ‘What does this have to do with soldiers?’ Cahill asked.

  ‘We checked in with the DEA,’ Collins said. ‘To see if they had anything going on in Metro Denver or in our vicinity.’

  ‘I take it that you got a hit?’ Cahill asked. ‘Something with a military angle.’

  ‘We did.’

  ‘Can you tell us about it?’

  Hunter stood and paced to the door and back.

  ‘Guys, this is getting kind of to the point where I think it’s best handled between law enforcement agencies. No offence, but I don’t feel comfortable saying too much more.’

  Logan knew that wouldn’t sit well with Cahill. Hunter must have seen that in Cahill’s face.

  ‘I appreciate your background, Mr Cahill, I really do. And that this agent was a friend of yours. But we’re getting into potentially very sensitive areas here. Beyond law enforcement confidentiality.’

  ‘You mean national security?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ve still got clearance. You can check that out as well.’

  Hunter sat back down and stared at Cahill.

  ‘I’ve got permanent clearance. Comes with the job.’

  ‘From the Secret Service?’ Collins asked, frowning. ‘I never heard that one before.’

  ‘Another agency.’

  Collins’s eyes widened a little. ‘You get around some.’

  ‘I’ve seen and done a lot in my time, gentlemen. Let’s leave it at that.’

  Hunter clasped his hands on the table and leaned forward.

  ‘That never showed up on your records when I checked before. The other agency thing, I mean.’

  ‘It’s not supposed to. That’s kind of the point.’

  ‘So how do we know that you’re cleared for this kind of thing?’

  ‘I can tell you who to call.’

  Collins took a pen and a small notepad from inside his jacket.

  ‘Go ahead,’ he said.

  ‘You checked out,’ Collins said to Cahill when he came back into the room five minutes later. ‘But what about him?’

  He pointed at Logan.

  ‘He’s my lawyer.’

  Collins looked at Hunter who turned to Cahill.

  ‘We’re going to have to talk to the FBI after this,’ Hunter said, ignoring Collins’s question about Logan.

  ‘I’ll make the introductions personally,’ Cahill replied.

  Collins sat at the table.

  ‘You know that the cocaine trade originates in Colombia?’ Hunter asked.

  Logan and Cahill nodded.

  ‘Well, the Mexicans have also got in on the act. In fact, most of the US drug trade comes through there now, not Colombia. And one drug lord in particular has taken to hiring ex-soldiers as security.’

  ‘The DEA told you this?’

  ‘Yes. Turns out that one of these soldiers is now a high-ranking lieutenant in a Mexican cartel and he’s been tracked entering the US three times in the last six months.’

  ‘Entering here, in Denver?’

  ‘Correct. The DEA has a watch list on known or suspected cartel members and footsoldiers. So they can track their movements if they come into the US. Sometimes it’s better to see where they go and who they talk to rather than arresting them on entry.’

  ‘I can see how that would work,’ Cahill said. ‘Do they know why this guy has been in the US?’

  ‘Nothing concrete. Snatches of intel gathered from intercepted communications.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘They think that the cartel is trying to establish links with a group here in the US.’

  ‘Let me guess,’ Logan said. ‘Also ex-military?’

  ‘You win the watch.’

  ‘But you said that the overdoses here have been from heroin. What’s the connection to Mexico if they deal in cocaine? Expanding their product lines or something else?’

  ‘That part we don’t know for sure. And neither does the DEA. But heroin trade does also come in via Mexico.’

  ‘Sounds like you only have pieces of the puzzle and can’t see the whole picture yet.’

  ‘That’s about right, yes.’

  ‘Did the DEA get any names of the people here that the Mexican was in contact with?’

  ‘No. They traced some calls but they were to illegal, cloned mobiles. Nothing they could use.’

  ‘You know,’ Logan said, stretching his arms above his head, ‘I can see why the FBI would be focused on terrorism since nine eleven and I have no doubt that’s what they thought Stark was working on. They as much as told us that. But what if this group that Stark was trying to infiltrate had nothing to do with anything like that? I mean, maybe they’re just good old-fashioned capitalists.’

  ‘Drug dealers,’ Cahill said.

  ‘Yeah. Maybe Stark was getting close to the truth and they got suspicious. If he’d seen the stories about the overdoses and finally joined the dots to the crew he was with it would explain why he wanted to speak to you, Detective.’

  Hunter folded his arms.

  ‘It makes some kind of sense. But right now it’s just a theory. Nothing more.’

  ‘I think you need to talk to the FBI,’ Cahill said.

  Hunter looked at his watch, saw that it was now almost six.

  ‘Those FBI types work late?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ Cahill said.

  ‘I got a date,’ Collins said, looking almost crestfallen.

  Hunter turned his head to look at his partner.

  ‘What?’ Collins said. ‘It’s the blonde. You remember?’

  Hunter shook his head and raised his left hand, waggling his wedding ring.

  ‘Doesn’t mean you don’t remember what it was like.’

  ‘You go if you want. I’m going to see if we can set something up with the local Bureau guys tonight. Sounds like we have a lot to talk about.’ He looked at Cahill who nodded.

  ‘Crap,’ Collins said. ‘Count me in.’

  ‘Make the call,’ Hunter told Cahill.

  12

  Irvine got home at six, made pasta with tomato sauce and ate it with her son at the kitchen table while he regaled her with his adventures from the childminders. She listened patiently as he tried to express himself using his limited vocabulary and wiped his face every minute or so as the sauce spread ever outward. She felt numb all over.

  After Connor was asleep, she went down to the living room and sat on the couch with her feet curled up under her. She couldn’t get rid of the smell from Marshall’s house, not sure if it was real or just a sensory memory. A few hours of TV didn’t help.

  Irvine grabbed the phone and dialled Logan’s mobile number. It rang once and went straight to voicemail. She left a short mes
sage telling him that everything was fine and that he should call her when he got the chance.

  She hung up and reached down to the floor to pick up the remote control for the TV. As she did, she thought that she saw a shadow flit across the blinds of the window that looked out on to the street. She froze, her hand hovering above the remote. Images from Marshall’s house flashed in her head. She saw Connor’s face on Marshall’s dead son, shook her head to wipe the image from her brain.

  She strained to listen for movement outside.

  She heard a car door open and shut not far from her house then low male voices. She couldn’t tell if they were moving towards her or away.

  Standing up, she padded quietly out to the hall where she grabbed her extending baton. There was no light on in the hall and Irvine stood there, listening for any sound from outside. She heard the male voices again. This time there was no doubt that they were coming closer.

  The voices grew louder until they were outside Irvine’s door. She looked upstairs, knowing that her son was up there alone. Thought about pulling the door open and going out to meet them head-on. Catch them by surprise.

  She almost jumped out of her skin when the doorbell rang. Irvine caught sight of herself in the full-length mirror in the hall, standing in a pink velour tracksuit with her hair up and a steel baton in her hand.

  The bell rang again.

  Irvine hesitated, then went to the door and looked through the peephole. Frank Parker was standing there with one of his bodyguards.

  ‘I only want to talk,’ Parker said loudly.

  Irvine hesitated, then dropped the baton and kicked it to the side where it clattered into the skirting, taking a chunk of paint off. She opened the door.

  Parker was dressed in another immaculately tailored suit. One of the big men from the restaurant was standing behind him.

  ‘Detective,’ Parker said.

  Irvine felt anger begin to bubble. Parker must have seen it in her face and held his hands up.

  ‘Look,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry that I had to come here. I didn’t mean to upset you or anything. It’s just that—’

  ‘You’re crossing the line, Mr Parker. I think you know that fine well. In fact, I think you’re doing it deliberately.’

  Parker dropped his hands and turned to the man behind him.