“Specifically, it leaves us with Faith Lockhart.”
“We’ve got all the airports, train and bus stations, rental car
agencies covered. Her firm too, although I can’t believe she’d go
there.”
“Agreed. Actually, that may be where the bullet came from,” Reynolds
said slowly.
“Buchanan?”
“Wish we could prove it.”
“If we find Lockhart, we still may be able to. We’ll have some
leverage there.”
“Don’t count on it. Almost getting your head blown off can make you
rethink loyalties,” Reynolds said dryly.
“If Buchanan and his people are on to Lockhart, then they must be on to
us as well.”
“You said that before. A leak? From here?”
“A leak from somewhere. Here or at Lockhart’s end. Maybe she did
something to make Buchanan suspicious. From all accounts, the guy’s
cagey as hell. He had her followed somehow. They saw her meeting with
you at the house. He dug a little more, hit the truth and contracted
to take her out.”
“I’d like to believe that more than someone here selling us down the
river.
“So would I. But the fact is every law enforcement agency has some bad
apples.”
Reynolds briefly wondered for a moment if Connie was suspicious of her.
Everyone who worked at the FBI, from special agents to support staff,
had top-secret security clearance. When you applied for a job at the
Bureau, teams of agents would show up investigating every single piece
of your past, no matter how insignificant, talking to everyone who ever
knew you. Every five years a full field investigation was conducted on
on-board Bureau employees. In the interim any suspicious activity
involving a bureau employee or any complaints of persons asking
suspicious questions of an employee were to be reported to the security
officer in the employee’s division. That had never happened to
Reynolds, thank God. Her record was clean.
If there were suspicions of a leak or other type of security breach, it
might very well be investigated by the Office of Professional
Responsibility, and a polygraph exam might be ordered for the suspect
employee. Other than that, the Bureau was always on the lookout for
any signs that an employee was having undue personal or professional
problems that might make him or her susceptible to bribes or influence
by third parties.
Reynolds knew Connie was doing okay financially. His wife had died
years ago from a lengthy illness that had sapped their resources, but
he lived in a nice house that was worth a lot more than he had paid for
it. His kids’ college educations were done, and he had his pension
locked in. All in all, he had a nice retirement to look forward to.
On the other hand, Reynolds knew her personal life and finances were in
abysmal shape. College funds? Damn, she’d be lucky if she could
continue to afford the private school tuition for first grade. And
pretty soon, she wouldn’t have a house to call her own. That was being
sold as part of the divorce. The condo she was eyeing was about the
size of the one she had rented when she had finished college. It had
seemed cozy with one person. An adult and two energetic kids would
quickly turn cozy into cramped. And could she afford to keep her
nanny? With her hours, how could she not? She couldn’t leave the kids
alone at night.
In any other occupation she would probably be on the top ten
soon-to-crash-and-burn list. But in the FBI, the divorce rate was such
that her mess of a marriage would not create a blip on the Bureau
radar. A career in the FBI was often simply not conducive to a happy
personal life.
She blinked for a moment as she found Connie’s gaze still upon her. Did
he really suspect her of being the leak? Of causing Ken Newman to die?
She knew it looked bad. On the very night when she’d had Newman
substitute for her with Lockhart, he was killed. She knew Paul Fisher
had been thinking that, and she was reasonably sure Connie was right
now.
She composed herself and said, “There’s really nothing we can do about
this theory of a leak right now. Let’s concentrate on what we can