Judas Horse_ An FBI Special Agent Ana Grey Mystery - April Smith [100]
“How do the bad guys get restricted matériel?”
“Steal it from the base and collect it over time.”
I nod. “That sounds like Stone. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been planning the Big One since he split the Bureau.”
“I really wish you’d been wearing a wire when he handed you that jive. I’d give anything to hear his version of events.”
“Here’s what I think: We drove him crazy.”
Donnato believes I’m joking and cracks another potato chip.
“We didn’t know our ass from our elbow, and the country was in a revolution. Dick Stone is a casualty of war.”
“I’m glad you’re not wearing a wire.”
“Is it treason to tell the truth?”
An immaculate RV has pulled up, and a portly gentleman wearing a bow tie has disembarked, along with two magnificently groomed Cardigan Welsh corgis, who hop down the ladder like a pair of princes. Show dogs, rehearsing their stuff. The trio trots ludicrously around our table, the dogs keeping stride with their master’s swaying gut.
As they pass, Donnato switches to upbeat gossip.
“Kyle Vernon’s son is moving back from Virginia.”
My mood perks up, hearing of old buddies on the bank robbery squad.
“Didn’t his son just graduate from UVA?”
Donnato nods. “He’s moving to California. Looks like he sold a script to the movies about a black kid whose dad is a black FBI agent….”
We sit for a while at the weathered picnic table under the shimmering boughs of pine, while the dogs rebelliously bark at squirrels, and Donnato does his job of bringing me out of the dream I’ve inhabited on the farm, back to my grounding in the Bureau family.
“Your friend Barbara Sullivan is pregnant again. They did the test. It’s another girl.”
“That’s great. Will she quit?”
“It’s doubtful she’ll come back from maternity leave. You two ever talk?”
I shake my head. This will be our final passing. Barbara Sullivan will retire just as I reenter the Bureau, and we will let each other go.
The RV pulls away. I get up from the table, but Mike Donnato stays where he is. He is looking at his fingers, which are peeling the bark off another twig. I notice there’s a pile of naked twigs on the ground between his feet.
“What’s the matter?”
“We have a situation, Ana.”
I sit back down.
“I had lunch with Rosalind.”
“Oh, really? Where’d you go?”
“Factor’s Deli.” He squints in the wash of sunlight. “Do you have to know what we ordered, too?”
“I know what you ordered. A grilled chicken sandwich.”
Donnato goes on, beleaguered. “Rosalind had good information. Dick Stone had a brother who died in Vietnam.”
“I know. I’m a few steps ahead of you, bud.”
“What you don’t know is that Toby Himes and Peter Abbott served together in Vietnam. We were going to tell you.”
No need to answer that.
“Rosalind said Dick Stone’s brother served on the same squad as Himes and Abbott. All three of them. Only two made it back.”
“Does Peter Abbott know that Toby Himes is a person of interest to Operation Wildcat?”
Donnato hedges. “He reads the reports young Jason Ripley sends out.”
“Why didn’t Peter Abbott tell us about the link between himself and Himes and Dick Stone’s brother? Why’d we have to find it out from a secretary?”
“Believe me, Galloway is asking the same questions.”
Donnato finally reveals their suspicions. They put a trap on the deputy director’s phones and discovered Toby Himes has been calling Abbott on his private number. This is so explosive that neither of us moves. My partner remains seated at the table, elbows on knees, in profile. The sun glints off the top of his wavy hair and the short curve of his forehead.
“Stone’s a former agent; I know his game. But Abbott scares me. What’s he up to, and on what level?”
“I promise we’ll find out. Let us