Call to Treason - Tom Clancy [130]
McCaskey opened the door and stepped out. He walked around to the driver's side. Howell rolled down the window.
"If I did what you asked, I would not be able to look Mac McCallie's widow in the eyes," McCaskey told him. "I will fight for you, Detective, I promise. But I will not lie for you."
Howell's face flushed, but he did not reply. He simply rolled up the window and drove away.
Maria took her husband's hand. "You did the right thing," she said. "I am proud of you."
"Boy, I wish that made it all better." He sighed. He watched the detective's car as it turned the corner.
As afraid as Howell had been when he made that decision, McCaskey imagined it faded to insignificance beside the fear and loneliness he was feeling now. He wished there had been another way out. Maybe he should have bucked it up to Paul.
"Or maybe he should have behaved himself," Maria said.
"What?"
"I know you," Maria said. "You are standing there wishing this all could have been different. Detective Howell made his choices. People died. He has to live with the consequences."
"I know," McCaskey said. "You know, I love what I do, but I there are times I hate what I have to do."
Maria gripped his hand more tightly and gave him a quick, reassuring smile.
The couple went and got their car. They nosed into the thickening traffic of rush hour.
There was little McCaskey could do for Robert Howell but, ironically, there was still one thing he could do for Mac McCallie. And McCaskey intended to do it.
He would find and punish the people who put this tragedy in motion.
* * *
FORTY-SEVEN
San Diego, California Wednesday, 2:02 p.m.
No sooner had Rodgers entered the hallway than Kat ran after him.
"General, I have work to do," she said. "I can't stay here."
"You have to," he said. "I don't know who is at risk and, more important, by helping someone, you may be an accessory to a criminal conspiracy."
"I cannot believe the senator is behind this."
"You cannot prove he is not," Rodgers said. "Please. I don't have time to debate this. I need to do some checking."
"I'll wait an hour," she said. "No more."
Rodgers did not answer. For all he knew, Kat Lockley would leave the room as soon as he was out of sight. Rodgers did not know whether she was truly blameless or just feigning innocence. Before heading downstairs, he stopped and pounded on Eric Stone's door. There was no answer. He did not know where the convention manager was or what he might be planning. There was a lot Rodgers did not know. Too damn much, in fact.
Rodgers took the stairs to the lobby. That was not a consideration for personal security. If McCaskey called, Rodgers did not want to be standing hip-to-hip with nosy USF delegates.
The general reached the courtyard, which was encircled by tall, slender palm trees and brilliantly lit by a peach-colored sun. People were moving in all directions, and cars were stacked two deep in the sweeping entranceway. This was not the way to find Eric Stone. He went back inside to the registration desk and asked if anyone there had seen him. They said they had not. Rodgers did not believe they would have been told to lie. Stone had not come this way. He thought of checking the hotel security camera but decided that knowing where Stone had been was not going to help him right now. Rodgers had to find out where Stone was going.
Rodgers went back outside. He looked over at the convention center. It was probably a circus by now, with conventioneers arriving for free lunch followed by the opening speeches. Mobile media vans were outside, recording the event. It might be possible to use their multiple camera