Edge

long time.

Chapter 38
    AT A LITTLE after 10:00 p.m. I arrived back at the safe house in Great Falls and did the code ritual to lower the drawbridge.
    Once inside the compound, I noted another car, the engine idling. It was being driven by a young associate from our organization.
    He spotted me, shut the engine off and climbed out. The trim African American, about thirty, gave a nod and joined me at the steps to the porch. I could see his nose twitch as he got close and realized that I’d grown accustomed to the smell of scorch. I couldn’t sense it any longer.
    “Hello, Geoff.”
    “Corte. You okay?”
    “Fine.” I glanced into his car, in whose front seat was another young man, with a round crew-cut head and eyes that took me in briefly and then returned to scanning the property.
    “We waited out here, like you said.”
    Geoff had picked up an FBI special agent, named Tony Barr, at a rendezvous point halfway between here and his house, a place that Freddy and I had agreed on. Since the truce with Westerfield was pretty tenuous, I’d decided I wasn’t going to give anybody outside my organization the location of thesafe house directly. I was afraid the U.S. attorney might find out and descend in person to interview his new star witness in the MPD financial scam case.
    There’s also my general reluctance to give away information of any kind.
    “ID?” I asked. With Loving involved you could never be too cautious. But Geoff said that Freddy’s office had sent our office a picture of Barr and that facial recognition confirmed he was the agent.
    “Impression?” Nodding toward the front seat.
    “Military, focused, tactical time under his belt. Didn’t talk much.”
    Freddy had given Barr high marks.
    “Hang tight for a minute. Both of you.”
    “Sure, Corte.”
    I walked to the front door, hit the keypad and opened it.
    I was pleased the Kesslers were not within earshot. Maree either. Ahmad and Garcia were; they’d known that the car was from headquarters but didn’t know why it was here.
    I said to Rudy Garcia, “Talk to you for a minute?”
    “Sure, sir.”
    I told Ahmad to do a perimeter check and he headed out immediately.
    “I talked to Agent Fredericks on the way over here,” I said to Garcia.
    “Yessir. I mean, Corte.”
    “He’s relieving you of duty.”
    The man was silent; the stillness in his face was the equivalent to a gasp of shock.
    “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t understand.”
    “I went to see your wife, Cheryl, about a half hour ago. At your house.”
    His jaw drooped a bit. “You . . . ?”
    “When I called earlier, you told me you’d talked to her. About your son and the game—that’s how I knew. So I went to see her.”
    He realized where this was going. I’d said no personal communications from the safe house. None. “I . . . It’s just she’s pregnant. I like to check on her. It was, like, for three minutes. I used a cold phone.”
    “I told her I needed to find you, something was wrong. She told me you were in Great Falls off Harper Road.” I didn’t mention the shock and dismay the woman had felt when I’d flashed the ID and told her that her husband had gone missing.
    His round face grew puffier, it seemed, and ruddy. His eyes scanned the floor. “I . . . I didn’t even think about it. . . . Oh, shit. She just asked whether I was in South East or some dangerous place. I just said it was like a bed-and-breakfast in Great Falls. . . . Christ, do you think Loving picked it up?”
    “No.” On the way here, I’d had Hermes run a signal scan around the Garcia house. If Loving had been eavesdropping the receiver would still be there, to collect any new information. There was no evidence that he’d planted anything nearby. Realistically Loving probably had no idea who Garcia was or what job he was assigned to, nor could he track down his wife. But that was beside the point.
    “Is she . . . ?”
    “Agent Fredericks had her picked up and moved to a safe location with your children. I’m going to move you there too, to be with her. We’ll keep you both incommunicado until the job’s concluded.”
    Nodding, miserable. “I’m sorry, sir. . . . I don’tknow what to say. This is all new to me. This protection work.”
    It was, of course. But his offense had nothing to do with the job of being a shepherd or clone; it was that he hadn’t obeyed the orders I’d given him. Which were about as simple as they come.
    “I don’t want to