Well, now the pain and the memories had come flooding back from nothing more than the mention of Texas.
“If it’s not about Linda, then what the hell is this?” He heard the edge in his voice and didn’t try to tamp it down. “You just toss Texas in my face? You of all people?”
Seagrave didn’t even flinch. “I said it isn’t about her death,” he said gravely. “At least, not exactly.”
Winston frowned, too curious to be angry at his friend for what sounded like bullshit game playing. “What the hell, Anderson? Was there someone else pulling McNally’s strings? Someone we missed at the top level of the Consortium? Because if there is, you point me toward the S.O.B., and I swear I will take him down in record time.”
He’d spent years undercover in Hades, first landing the job, then living the role as a rural county working with the city and county officials. The higher-ups in every office from the mayor’s chambers to the police department had been corrupt down to the bone, dabbling in everything from drug-running to blackmail to massive government and civilian fraud tied to the oil and gas industry.
After Linda’s death sparked that final, violent surge, the SOC and Winston had essentially shut down the spiderweb of illegal operations. As far as he knew, only two men had managed to escape the net. They’d been lower level flunkies who’d gone on to other illicit operations in other parts of the country.
One, a man who’d been known as the Serpent, was now in SOC custody thanks to Emma and Tony’s latest operation. The other, Cane, was dead. And good riddance to him.
The possibility that there were other players still running free made his blood boil. He’d thought he’d burned through his fury in the passing years. Now, he knew he hadn’t. The embers still glowed, ready to ignite at a moment’s notice.
He drew a breath and met Seagrave’s eyes. “Tell me,” he demanded. “Tell me who we missed and I’ll bring you his head on a platter.”
“I have no doubt,” Seagrave said. “But it’s a little more complicated than that.”
Winston sat back, eyeing the commander, trying to read what the man wasn’t saying. And, more importantly, why he was dancing around the very reason that he’d called Winston in. “Then explain it to me.”
“You’re here because of a woman,” Seagrave said flatly. His shoulders sagged as he sighed, looking older than his forty-something years. “Hell, Starr. You’re here because of Linda.”
Winston frowned, certain his confusion showed on his face. “You told me when I walked in here that this had nothing to do with her death.”
“I didn’t exactly say that. And yet, you’re right. It has nothing to do with her death.” He lowered his hands from the table to the wheels of his chair, then maneuvered back before rolling around the table toward Winston. Billions of dollars in government tech at his disposal, and Seagrave still preferred a manual wheelchair to one with bells, whistles, and other “gizmos,” as he called them.
“Don’t play games with me,” Winston said. “You know better than anyone how much her death destroyed me.” Emma had been transferred out soon after the bombing, so even she didn’t fully know the dark pit into which he’d sunk after the forensics team positively identified Linda’s DNA. Teeth. Two teeth was all they found in the bombed out shell of a car. But that had been enough to prove that the love of his life was dead.
Seagrave met his eyes, then took a remote control from a pocket on the side of his chair. He pressed a button, and a video screen whirred down from the ceiling. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re not going to like this.”
Winston said nothing as the lights dimmed.
As the room darkened, the screen lit up and an image came into view. A bustling sidewalk in an urban area. Austin, maybe. Or, hell, it could be Manhattan. Seattle. Even LA. No way to tell at glance. Not from the angle of the lens focused more on the pedestrians than the surroundings.
“What are we—”
The words stuck in his throat, the answer staring him in the face.
Linda.
Oh, dear God, he was looking at his Linda.
“This is old footage,” he said, his entire body going cold as fear and hope warred for dominance in his soul. “It has to be.”
“It’s not.”
Winston’s eyes locked on the screen. “When was this taken? And where?”
“Last week,” Seagrave said, and Winston’s stomach did a somersault. “In Seattle.”
“So, you’re saying what? That for some reason a government intelligence organization just happened to stumble across footage of a dead woman walking the streets of Seattle?”
“You know better than that.” Now the voice was gentle.
“How long?” Winston had to clear his throat in order to continue. “Your people have had her under surveillance. Tell me how long you’ve known that she’s alive. And then tell me why the fuck you didn’t bring me in on this earlier.”
“Watch.”
“Dammit, Anderson, I–”
“That’s an order, Starr. Watch the damn screen.”
Winston watched as she entered an office building, realizing then that the footage was taken by a drone. It rose, the aspect ratio widening to take in the full Seattle skyline as it ascended higher and higher, finally hovering across the street, but level with the roof-line of the building she’d entered. The image zoomed in, focusing on a roof access shed with a closed metal door.
A few moments later, the door opened and a man stepped out. He surveyed the roof, frowned, then checked his watch.
Soon, the door opened again. At first, no one emerged, but Winston could see that the shadowy figure in the doorway was a woman. His gut constricted, and when she stepped onto the gravel and tar rooftop, he realized that he’d stopped breathing.
The man turned to her, his arms extended in greeting as he took a step toward her. Her mouth curved into a smile so familiar it made his heart ache. His body tightened with an unfamiliar longing, then recoiled when she lifted her hand to reveal the gun that had been concealed in the folds of her skirt.
She aimed. She fired.
And then his Linda turned her back on the body, slipped through the doorway, and disappeared from sight.
Chapter Two
“No,” Winston said, feeling sick. He shook his head, hating the weakness inside him that wished he could un-see what he’d just watched. “It’s a mistake. Whatever we’re looking at, it’s not what it seems.”
“Isn’t it?”
Fury cut through Winston as he wrenched his head away from the now-dark screen to focus on Seagrave. “Why the hell did you drag me here? Haven’t I been punished enough? My wife died—died—in a goddamn explosion. You know what I went through, damn you. You saw my pain, and you fucking sympathized. You were my friend. And now you show me this? Why? To rip me up all over again?”
“I’m showing you because you have a right to see it. And when the shock passes, you might even thank me for bringing you the truth.”
Winston huffed. “I wouldn’t bet the ranch.” He pushed himself out of the chair, wanting nothing more than to get out of this room and away from the nightmare playing out around him. The truth yawning before him like a dark abyss, threatening to suck him down, destroying the last, tattered remnants of joy he’d been clinging to for years.