The Rescue(53)

Gunther Ross’s file didn’t shed any light on the situation, either, beyond confirming some of what Decker had told him. His profile summary didn’t say Central Intelligence Agency, but Reeves had seen enough files like his to sniff it out. Ross certainly hadn’t spent fifteen years working as an international sales manager for a pharmaceutical company that the FBI classified as a “nonentity.” Reeves didn’t need to research Arco Pharmaceuticals to know he wouldn’t get any further than a functional website and phone system that would forward his messages to a phone bank in Virginia.

Ross’s career got even murkier after Arco Pharmaceuticals. No known addresses. No tax filings. Nothing to indicate he’d grown roots anywhere in the United States or had any current connections to his home country other than a US passport.

If Reeves had to guess, Ross had probably used his network of shady overseas connections to acquire a few more passports so he could establish banking credentials in tax-haven countries and move his money around without attracting the IRS’s attention.

No amount of digging was likely to unearth anything useful on the former CIA employee, but Reeves knew everything he needed to know about him. His presence in Los Angeles at the same time as Decker’s bogus release was not a coincidence. He just wasn’t sure how much time and energy he wanted to devote to figuring out how the two were connected.

He glanced up from the laptop screen to find his wife in the office doorway, holding two cups of steaming coffee.

“Figured you’d be out the door early today, so I thought I’d spend some time with you before the kids got rolling,” said Claire. “But I don’t want to break your chain of thought. You looked pretty disturbed there for a moment.”

“No. I’m good,” he said, waving her in. “I just woke up and couldn’t shake a few thoughts. Figured I may as well get up.”

She handed Reeves one of the mugs and sat in her office chair, turning it to face him. The room was so small their toes touched.

“Penkin?” she said.

“Penkin and a few loosely connected issues.” He took a cautious sip of the hot brew. “Maybe not so loose. Decker was released the other day.”

“I thought he was at least four years from possible parole.”

“Somehow, he walked out of the Metropolitan Detention Center a free man two days ago,” said Reeves. “I’m keeping an eye on him until the Bureau of Prisons figures out how he was released.”

“They don’t know how he was released?”

“They know how, they just can’t seem to find a flaw in the paperwork and digital trail,” said Reeves. “I think the warden and the BOP director are too busy pointing fingers at each other. They’d both have to sign off on an early release.”

“It sounds almost comical.”

“Trust me. It isn’t,” said Reeves, before taking a longer sip of the strong coffee.

“I understand your history with Decker, but isn’t keeping track of prisoners BOP’s job? Or the US marshals’?”

“Normally. Unless a certain US senator has a direct interest in that prisoner—and your career.”

“You went above and beyond the call of duty for Senator Steele during the kidnapping investigation and Decker’s trial,” said Claire. “She can’t possibly hold anything over your head.”

“I know,” he said. “But I called her the moment I discovered that Decker had been released. I just felt compelled to let her know, since he was released in LA, among other things.”

Claire nodded. “Then pick him up and drive him back to Victorville. Let them figure out what to do with him.”

Reeves rubbed his unshaven chin. “Decker disappeared. After I had a little chat with him.”

“You found him and didn’t haul him in?”

“Technically, I didn’t have a reason to bring him in.”

“Well. Then that’s that. Not your problem. Time to move on,” she said. “You probably have your hands full with the Russians, anyway. Especially with Penkin missing.”

Reeves took a long sip of his coffee before responding. “Penkin isn’t missing. He’s dead, and if I had to guess, I’d say Decker was responsible. This is obviously not for public consumption.”

“Of course,” she said. “But once again, none of this is really your problem.”

“I know. I’m just keeping an eye on some loose ends, and if I can find Decker, all the better.”

“You look worried,” she said. “I saw it on your face last night, too. This is a new look for you, Joseph, so don’t try to deny it or say you’re exhausted. What’s really going on with Decker?”

“I’m not sure I know anymore,” said Reeves. “And that’s what has me worried. I can’t shake something Decker said yesterday.”

“Is it a game changer?”

“It could be—if it’s true,” he said.

“Does it cost you anything to check into what he said?”

“No.”

“There’s your answer,” she said.

He leaned forward in the chair and kissed her hand, feeling a little better about the day ahead of him.





CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO