Flash and Bones - Kathy Reichs [49]
“The man’s not to be trusted. You’ve got no business being anywhere near him.”
“How I choose to conduct an investigation is of no concern—”
“The man’s corrupt.”
“People change.”
“Not him.”
“That’s a bit rigid.”
“Galimore worked that case, all right. Wouldn’t surprise me if he took part in the cover-up folks are talking about. He’s probably jumping in now to protect his sorry ass.”
“Or he has a genuine interest in finding out what happened to his investigation?”
Hawkins was in full rant mode and in no mood to listen.
“Why the interest now after all these years? Could it be you’re getting to the truth and he wants to keep you close? Whatever Galimore’s motive, he’s acting solely in the interest of one person. Cotton Galimore.”
At that moment my phone rang.
Snorting his disgust, Hawkins turned and strode down the hall.
Without thinking, I picked up the receiver.
“Dr. Brennan. I’m glad I caught you.”
“I was just about to leave.” Not true. But I didn’t want another sermon. Especially from the likes of Special Agent Williams.
“I’ll keep it brief.”
“Why did you confiscate the landfill John Doe?” I decided to take the offensive.
“I explained the bureau’s reasoning to Dr. Larabee.”
“Ricin contamination.”
“Yes.”
“The ricin toxin isn’t contagious.”
“It was not my decision.”
“Was it your decision to cremate the body?”
“That was an unfortunate error.”
“What about my bone plugs?”
“What about them?”
“Were those samples also destroyed?”
“It is my understanding they’d been placed in the same body bag.”
“Could it be the bureau doesn’t want this man ID’ed?”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Ted Raines turn up yet?”
Williams knew what I was asking. Did the bureau suspect that the landfill John Doe was the missing man from Atlanta?
“Not that I know of.”
“Odd coincidence. Raines working for the CDC. The John Doe showing evidence of ricin poisoning.”
“Indeed.” I heard what sounded like a ballpoint pen being clicked repeatedly. “I understand you talked to J. D. Danner.”
“Nice hair.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I could handle the groceries myself.”
A beat. Then, “I have been authorized to reveal certain sensitive information. Dr. Larabee already has it. He asked me to share it with you.”
I waited.
“In 1996 the Patriot Posse came to the attention of the FBI. The group was small and strictly local, but intel was that certain members were becoming radicalized, perhaps plotting acts of violence.”
“Which members?”
“That’s not relevant.”
“Danner?”
The pen. Click. Click. Click.
“Lovette?”
“No.”
“What was their alleged target?”
“This information is strictly confidential.”
“Oh. Wait. I’ll cancel my tweet.”
“According to our source, the posse was planning to contaminate the water supply of a nearby town.”
“Why?”
“Two gripes. The presence of a women’s clinic that provided abortions. The election of a black woman as mayor.”
A mélange of anger and disgust soured my stomach. I reached for the Diet Coke.
“At the time Cindi Gamble and Cale Lovette vanished, the posse was under surveillance,” Williams went on.
“You had someone inside?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Was it Lovette? Gamble?”
Williams ignored my questions. “Our intel also suggested that members of the group may have had ties to Eric Rudolph.”
“Did they?”
“We were unable to establish that fact with certainty.”
Click. Click. Click.
“The posse disbanded in 2002, but the bureau has continued to track some of its members.”
“J. D. Danner?”
“Danner now heads a much bigger organization called the Loyalist Movement. The group has several thousand followers throughout the Southeast.”
“Who are they?”
“Extremists who believe that the federal government deliberately murdered people at Ruby Ridge and Waco, and that door-to-door gun confiscation could begin any day. Their ideology is less white-supremacist than in the nineties, though many have now turned their venom toward followers of Islam. What holds the group together is anger at the government.”
I pictured the Tommy Bahamas, the sapphire ring, the RX-8. “Danner looked pretty flush.”
“The Loyalist Movement