Afraid of the Dark - James Grippando [94]
“He’s jabbing me,” said Vince, his voice tightening. “There is no doubt in my mind that this is the work of McKenna’s killer. Which makes him the same guy who took away my sight. He’s jabbing me with the stick he gave me.”
Jack didn’t know how to respond, but the reasoning was far from flawed. “So this is personal,” said Jack.
“Isn’t it for you?”
Jack didn’t have to answer.
Alicia touched her husband’s shoulder, and Jack noted their silent communication, the connection between them. It wasn’t overdone, but it was constant in one form or another—the hand-holding; the gentle touches; the way they sat so close to each other, with shoulders, elbows, and forearms brushing together. It didn’t bother Jack, except for the way it served as such a vivid reminder that he and his fiancée—sighted couples all over the world, for that matter—were moving into the digital world of texting and tweeting, the complete loss of communication through physical contact. Vince and Alicia had what Jack and Andie had lost, in spades.
The gift of blindness. The curse of sight.
“Excuse me for a minute,” said Alicia. She squeezed Vince’s hand as she rose, as if the unsaid words were passing from her hand to his. They had an understanding. This was the predetermined point in the conversation where Alicia was supposed to leave, and she was keeping her end of the agreement. This would be between Jack and Vince, and no one else. She gave him a kiss and left the table. When the click of her heels on the tile floor faded, Vince spoke.
“Chuck Mays knows where Shada lives. She’s in London.”
“I just read in today’s paper that he’s about to be arrested for killing her.”
“That’s a plant,” said Vince. “I fed that story to my contacts in the media.”
“Why?”
“Shada promised to come out of hiding if Chuck needed her. The media coverage about his impending arrest on murder charges will hopefully make her think it’s time.”
“How did he find her?”
“His supercomputers. I can’t tell you the methodology.”
“Have you told the FBI?”
“No. And I’m not going to.”
“Why not?”
“I believe there’s a cover-up surrounding Jamal Wakefield that reaches all the way back to McKenna’s murder. I believe it relates to black sites, and I believe the U.S. government is involved on some level.”
“Neil would have agreed with you,” said Jack.
“Do you?”
Jack suddenly heard Andie’s voice in his head, chiding him for even entertaining such wild conspiracy theories. “I don’t know,” said Jack. “But let me run wild with that thought for a second. Has anyone considered the possibility that Shada works for the government?”
“I’m betting that Shada knows something about the cover-up and who’s involved in it. Chuck wants to know what Shada knows, and he doesn’t trust any government to get that information out of her without also getting her killed.”
“You mean killed by a government agent?”
“More likely, killed by law enforcement incompetence. Someone in some agency failing to keep her whereabouts secret, which means that Shada could end up like Ethan Chang or Neil Goderich.”
“Obviously, you have a plan,” said Jack.
“I do,” said Vince. “But let me be clear. I couldn’t care less about terrorists who were held in black sites. My only goal is to find the man who killed McKenna. And who did this to me.”
“How are you going to do that?
“It’s just like Chuck told you: We pool information—including what Shada knows. Which means the next step is London.”
“What makes you think Shada will even talk to you?”
“I lost my sight trying to save her daughter. Shada will talk to me.”
“But she ran from her life before, and she ran from Chuck when he saw her at the cemetery. She obviously didn’t want to talk to anybody. Especially her husband and his best friend.”
“First of all, Shada and I were always good with each other. I warned Chuck for years that he was going to lose her if he didn’t stop being such a jerk of a husband, and Shada knows that. Chuck and I agree that if there’s anybody she’ll talk to, it’s me. Second of all, Chuck’s not going with me