The Eighth Sister (Charles Jenkins #1)(87)

“You were upset with the agency?”

“Back then I was, yes.”

“But not any longer?”

“That’s a long time to hold a grudge. I’d moved on. I just wanted out. If you checked, then you know that I moved to the farm on Camano Island. I’ve been there ever since.”

“That farm means a lot to you, I take it?”

“It’s been home for a long time.”

“You’re married with a son.”

“Correct.”

“And another on the way?”

“That’s right.”

“So how did CJ Security come about?”

“I was approached by the CFO of the investment company LSR&C.”

“What’s his name?”

“Randy Traeger.”

“How did you and Randy Traeger know each other?”

“His son and my son played together, and I must have discussed in passing that I worked as a private investigator and provided security, when asked, for David Sloane and his clients. Traeger said LSR&C was looking to expand overseas into foreign markets and they needed security in those offices for when high-profile investors were brought in.”

“And one of those foreign offices was in Moscow?”

“Correct.”

“Your wife also works for CJ Security?”

“She did, but she’s pregnant and her doctor put her on bed rest.”

“Did she also meet with . . .” Daugherty flipped through his notes. “With Carl Emerson?”

“No,” Jenkins said.

“Did she ever meet him?”

“No.”

“When you started CJ Security, did you take out a business loan?”

Jenkins knew where Daugherty was going. He just didn’t know Daugherty’s purpose for going there. “Not initially,” he said.

“Did those circumstances change?”

“LSR&C began to quickly grow. In order for me to keep up with their security concerns, I needed to hire additional security contractors. I didn’t have the capital to do it.”

“So you took out loans. What did you use for collateral?”

“The farm.”

“Your home.”

“Yes.”

“And at some point LSR&C stopped paying CJ Security, but you continued to work for them.”

“I was told by Randy Traeger that they would get caught up.”

“Did that happen?”

“Not initially and not entirely.”

“Were you being pressured by your vendors and security contractors?”

“Some.”

“Past-due notices, threats to stop providing services?”

“Yes. We went through this before, Agent Daugherty.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to be thorough and make sure I understand all of this.”

Jenkins was no longer buying that to be the reason for the questions. He now suspected the presence of the second agent was to confirm what Jenkins had to say, since Daugherty had been alone during the first interview. He began to wonder what game Daugherty was playing.

“And in the midst of this shortfall . . . this is when Carl Emerson showed up at your farm, unannounced, and made you an offer to be reactivated?”

“That’s right.”

“And how much did Mr. Emerson say he would pay you?”

“We agreed on fifty thousand dollars to start.”

“And you used that money to pay CJ Security contractors, vendor invoices . . . business expenses, those kinds of things?”

“Again, I told you that I did.”

Jake jumped in. “Unless there is something else, Agent Daugherty, we’re going to leave. He’s answered all of these questions before.”

Daugherty sat back but kept his gaze on Jenkins. After a moment he said, “I called the CIA, as you asked. They had no information of an operation in Russia.”

“And I told you they won’t admit to the specific operation because it would put agents’ lives in danger.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Daugherty said. “They had no information of any operation or that you were reactivated.”

Jenkins froze.

“If the CIA can’t acknowledge you were reactivated, what am I supposed to think?”

Jenkins’s mind scrambled for an answer. None came.

“Here’s what I don’t understand,” Daugherty continued. “The CIA said Alexei Sukurov, one of the names you admitted that you divulged to the FSB, was still active.”

Jenkins felt another sharp blow. “I was told he had died.”

“He did die, but recently and under mysterious circumstances.”

Jenkins could not believe what he was hearing. He’d been set up from the start. He felt light-headed and fought against the onset of an anxiety attack. He couldn’t breathe and took several quick breaths. It didn’t help.

“What the hell have I done?” he said under his breath but loud enough that it caused Jake to turn his head.

“Let’s take a break,” Jake said.

“Do you want to confess and make a deal, Mr. Jenkins?” Daugherty asked.

“Charlie, let’s take a break,” Jake said, pushing his chair away from the table.