“Man, that’s one sick animal. Holding a gun to his own kid’s head.” Taylor moved over to make room for Gerrit in the van.
“Not his kid.” Gerrit eyed one of the shooting team investigators across the street before closing the door behind him. They were still holding down the scene three hours after all the shooting. It was going to be a long night. “Nico married Cassandra when Maria was a year old. Rumor has it Nico had her dad wasted just to clear the way to Cassandra. He hates the kid.”
Taylor shook his head. “How’d you know about the access panel in the storage room?”
Smiling, Gerrit shrugged. “Just remembered.”
“You’re weird, dude. Freakin’ weird. Who remembers-?”
Pounding on the van door reverberated through the vehicle. “Gerrit, you in there?” Lieutenant Cromwell’s bellow was easy to identify. “Get your ass out here. Now.”
Gerrit smirked. “He’s such a sensitive soul. Worried about my traumatic experience.” Seeing Cromwell peering through the tinted window, Gerrit edged over and unlocked the door. “Coming out, Lieutenant.”
Cromwell stepped back as Gerrit swung open the door. “We need to talk. Privately.” He whirled around and crossed the street to his rental car. “Get in, O’Rourke.” It was a command, not a request.
Gerrit slid into the passenger side as Cromwell heaved himself behind the steering wheel. “What are you doing here, sir? I thought you’d be standing by in Seattle for details.”
“Plans change. I’m driving you to the airport.” Cromwell fired up the engine. “Taylor can bring your things later.”
“Boss, you came all the way down here to drive me to the airport?” Gerrit looked at him incredulously. “Besides, we’ve got a ton of evidence and property to seize back there. And the shooting team-”
“Leave it to me to coordinate. That’s why I am down here.” He yanked on the wheel and hit the car horn. “This comes from the top. I mean, straight from the top in Justice. Our chief got the word several hours ago. Ordered me to hop on a plane and personally drag your sorry carcass onto the next flight to D.C. They want you there yesterday.”
Marilynn’s earlier phone call flashed in Gerrit’s mind. “What’s up, Lieutenant? Why the urgency?”
“Sometimes, we’re just not given a reason. You’ve been in the military. When they say ‘jump,’ we just ask ‘how high.’ This is one of those times.”
“The shooting team took my weapons. I’ve got nothing on me.”
“Won’t need it where you’re going, although you never know about these Washington bureaucrats. Might want to consider wearing a bulletproof vest so they don’t stab you in the back.”
“Came here to fill me with confidence?”
“Don’t give a flying leap about your confidence. Just want to make sure you get on that plane.” Cromwell gave him a hard stare. “Son, be careful. Don’t know what’s going on, but these people are serious. Deadly serious. I’ve been around the block a few times, and my gut tells me you’d better watch out. Trust no one.”
Gerrit watched the road ahead. They pulled onto southbound I-5. Ten minutes later, Cromwell took the exit to San Diego International Airport, runways cutting between the USMC’s recruiting depot and the Navy’s fleet anti-sub warfare school along the edge of the San Diego Bay. A well-protected stretch of real estate.
As they neared the airport, Cromwell glanced over at him. “Oh, they have a passport waiting when you get to D.C. I guess you won’t be staying there long.”
“What? My passport is locked up in a safe in Seattle.”
The lieutenant shrugged. “My guess, they’ll be giving you undercover creds. Passport included. You’re on your way out of the country.”
“Where are they sending me? And who is ‘they’?”
Cromwell turned his attention back to the road. “They will tell you who ‘they’ is when they want to. Why they’re sending you, only God knows, son. Him and those calling the shots. Watch your back.”