At D’Arcy’s invitation, Keira sat down between her partner and Cody Walker. Then D’Arcy said four words, “The New World Militia.” Trace started to speak, glanced at Cody over Keira’s head and kept mum. “I’m bringing Walker in on this investigation,” D’Arcy explained. “Ryan Callahan called him.”
“Callahan?” McKinnon said. “Damn. That means the rumors are true.”
“Who’s Ryan Callahan?” Keira asked, looking from one face to the other and settling on her partner.
Before Trace could respond, Cody said, “Former cop. Undercover for five years with the New World Militia at the instigation of the FBI. Practically single-handedly brought down the organization six years ago.”
“I think you had something to do with that yourself,” D’Arcy said drily.
Cody made a dismissive gesture. “Maybe. But without him there wouldn’t have been much of a case to prosecute in the first place.” He looked at Keira. “He called me this afternoon, said that he knows the organization has been resurrected. He wouldn’t tell me how he knew, over what he said was an unsecured phone line, but I’ll tell you this—if he says he knows, I damn well believe him.”
A long silence followed his harsh statement. Then D’Arcy looked at Keira and Trace. “I know you haven’t been working this case very long, but what have you got?”
Keira glanced at Trace, who made a gesture signaling for her to go ahead. “We took the information you gave us,” she told D’Arcy, “and we checked it out. There’s no tangible proof yet, nothing we can take to a grand jury regarding the New World Militia. But there is a common thread connecting everyone on your list. They are part of a political action committee—a super PAC, actually—called NOANC. It can’t be a coincidence.”
D’Arcy leaned back in his chair, rubbed his hand over his face and sighed. “I was hoping I was wrong.” He looked at Cody and said softly, “Five senators, more than two dozen congressmen and I don’t know who all else.”
“What?” Cody sat up in his chair. “That’s not possible. The organization was destroyed six years ago. How—”
“That’s what you’re going to find out,” D’Arcy said. “You’re relieved of the rest of your case load as of right now, Walker. I’ll clear it down the line. And since Callahan prefers not to have your partner in on this...” He shrugged. “That’s the way it will have to be for now.”
He looked at Keira and Trace. “Because of his extensive background with the New World Militia and his connection with Callahan, I’m putting Walker in charge—you’ll report directly to him. Turn over any other cases you’ve got running to your supervisor. I’ll make sure he understands, but brief him thoroughly.”
His expression was deadly serious as he faced the three agents in front of him. “I’m sending you to Black Rock to talk with Callahan, find out what he’s got. Bring him in on the investigation, if that’s what it takes. No one knows better than him that this organization is a cancer, and if we don’t excise it—fast!—it might be too late.”
Cody glanced at Keira, then back at D’Arcy. “Callahan won’t like it,” he said. He looked at Keira again, an apology in his eyes. “Callahan doesn’t know you and he doesn’t trust you. I don’t think he’ll talk if you’re there.”
D’Arcy nodded, acknowledging the truth of Cody’s statement as far as it went. “He might not like it, but there’s one thing he knows as well as I do—the New World Militia doesn’t recruit women. There’s not a chance in hell Special Agent Jones is a member.” He looked at the two men. “I can’t say that about either of you.”
Cody and Trace looked at each other. Glancing from one man to the other, Keira saw the sudden suspicion in both sets of eyes. “Stop it,” she said, “both of you. I know Trace,” she told Cody. “He’s been my partner for three years, ever since I joined the agency. I know him like I know myself.” She looked at Trace. “I don’t know Cody the way I know you, but I trust him with my life, the same way I trust you.”
Trace’s eyes narrowed again, and he looked as if he were going to demand further elucidation of her statement, but Nick D’Arcy preempted him. “That’s enough,” he said. “I just wanted to make a point. That’s why I’m sending Special Agent Jones as well as the two of you. Even though Callahan might not trust her, I do. End of discussion.”
It was a dismissal, and all three agents rose and filed out. Cody walked toward the elevator and punched the button, Keira and Trace right behind him.
“Wait up,” Keira said. “We need to talk about next steps.”
Cody glanced down at her and gave her an assessing look. “I’ve got to talk to Callahan, see what he says.”
“Shouldn’t we talk about it first, the three of us?”
“Look,” he said, “don’t take this the wrong way. But O’Neill is a tad, shall we say, old-school?”
“O’Neill?” She knew her face reflected her puzzlement. “I thought his name was Callahan.”
Cody rubbed the bridge of his nose, his lips pursing at his mistake. “It is. But when I first knew him, he was going by the name of Reilly O’Neill. Sometimes I still call him that out of habit.”
“Oh, I see.” She thought a moment. “What do you mean he’s a tad old-school?”
The elevator arrived, and they all crowded in. “What floor?” Cody asked.
“Twelve,” Trace volunteered.
Cody pushed the button for the twelfth floor as well as the fifth-floor button for his own office.
Keira reiterated her question. “What do you mean he’s a tad old-school?”
Cody looked at Trace. “You know him, too, McKinnon. Wouldn’t you say he’s a throwback?”
Trace laughed. “That’s an understatement.”
Cody grimaced. “There’s no easy way to tell you, but...Callahan won’t like it that a woman is involved in the investigation.”
“You’re kidding, right?” She glanced from Cody to her partner, then back again. Both faces had that expression men hid behind when they didn’t know what to say to a woman because no matter what they said, it was suicide one way or the other. “That’s not just old-school—he must be a dinosaur.”
Cody laughed but said, “I have to talk to him about this, get his okay before we plan anything. I don’t care what Baker Street says—if Callahan says no, it’s no.”
Keira opened her mouth, then closed it again. She made a sound of disbelief, but she didn’t know what to say. She turned accusatory eyes on her partner. “Is that how you feel, too?”
Trace had that “deer in the headlights” look, but all he said was “It’s not my call,” then added in an undertone, “thank God.”
“I don’t believe this,” Keira said to him, hurt battling anger for dominance as she confronted him. “We’ve been partners for three years. I thought you trusted me.”
“I do,” Trace reassured her. “But I’m not Callahan. I can’t speak for him.”
“Look,” Cody began. “It’s nothing against you personally....”
The elevator door opened on the twelfth floor and Trace made his escape, but Keira stayed right where she was. She put her arm across the elevator door, preventing it from closing again, and when she did, her sleeve pulled up, exposing an ugly green-and-yellow bruise that encircled her wrist.
“God,” Cody said, suddenly distressed. “Did I do that to you?” He reached out and touched her wrist with two fingers, brushing the bruise so lightly it didn’t