Goinsville, Ohio. A place to begin.
Smithson. Why would Gabriel prepare a passport with his father’s old identity? Possibly that information – of who the Cashers once were – was part of the payment. Possibly it was Gabriel’s idea of a joke.
He found Shadey’s stepbrother’s laptop, stored on a closet shelf. It was a nice new system. He hooked up his digital music player to the computer, made sure it had all the same music software as his original laptop, and transferred the songs his mother had e-mailed him Friday morning.
He searched for newly created files. None, other than the songs themselves. He went through every folder, opened every file, to see if an unseen program dumped new data.
Nothing. He didn’t have the files. His mother had used another method to get Jargo’s treasured data on his system, or the program simply didn’t execute more than once. Maybe the data was erased or ignored if the encrypted songs were copied again.
He had nothing to fight Jargo with now.
Except Bricklayer.
Shadey was watching TV downstairs. ‘May I have that number that Galadriel lady gave you?’
‘Tell her I said hi,’ Shadey said. ‘Not.’
Evan went back upstairs. Shadey followed him. Evan dialed.
Four rings. ‘Yes?’ A nice-sounding lady, Southern accent. Calm.
‘Is this Galadriel?’
‘Who’s calling?’
‘I’m actually more interested in talking to Mr. Jargo, please.’
‘Who’s calling?’
He wasn’t going to give her enough time to trace the call. ‘I’ll call back in one minute. Get Jargo on the line.’ He hung up. Dialed back in two minutes.
‘Hello.’ Now a man’s voice. Older. Cultured.
‘This is Evan Casher, Mr. Jargo.’
‘Evan. We have much to discuss. Your father is asking for you. He and I are old friends. I’ve been taking care of him.’
Jargo had his dad. Evan sank to the floor. ‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Your mother is dead. Don’t you think such a tragedy would make your father surface and run home to you, if he could?’
‘You killed my mother, you son of a bitch.’ Now he’d found his voice again.
‘I never harmed your mother. That was the work of the CIA.’
‘That makes no sense.’
‘I’m afraid it does. Your mother worked for the CIA on an infrequent basis. She came across information that would irrevocably damage the Agency. America’s enemies already believe our intelligence operations are on the ropes; these files would be the CIA’s death knell. The CIA will kill you to keep those files secret.’
‘I don’t care about these goddamned files. You and your son killed my mother.’
A pause. ‘You know I have a son?’
‘Yes.’ Let the bastard believe that he had information that could make Jargo worry, make Jargo wonder how much he knew. ‘His name is Dezz.’
‘How do you know he’s my son?’
He thought it might be unwise to name Bricklayer as his source. ‘It doesn’t matter.’ Evan’s head started to throb. ‘Let me talk to my dad.’ At these words, Shadey sat on the floor across from him, a scowl of worry on his face.
‘I’m not prepared to do that yet, Evan,’ Jargo said.
‘Why?’
‘Because I need an assurance from you that you’ll work with us. We came to that house outside of Bandera to help you, Evan, and you shot at us and ran away.’
‘Dezz killed a man.’ Now Shadey raised an eyebrow at Evan.
‘No. Dezz saved you from a man who was using you so he could fight his own war against the CIA. The CIA would then use you to try to get us and your father. You’re nothing but a pawn to them, Evan – pardon the melodrama – and they’re prepared to slap your ass all over the chessboard.’
It fit in with what he had learned about Gabriel; at least, a bit.
‘If I give you the files, will you give me my dad? Alive and unharmed.’
He thought he almost heard the barest sigh of relief from Jargo. ‘I’m surprised to hear you have the files, Evan.’
The files were real. Here was confirmation. Sweat broke out under his arms, in the small of his back. He had to be very, very careful now.
‘Mom made a backup and let me know where they would be.’ The lie felt just fine in his mouth.
‘Ah. She was a very smart woman. I knew her for a long time, Evan. Admired her greatly. I want you to know that because I never, ever could have harmed Donna. I’m not your enemy. We’re family, in a way, you and I. I respect how you’ve protected yourself thus far. You have much of your parents in you.’
‘Shut up. Let’s meet.’
‘Yes. Tell me where you are and I’ll take you to your father.’
‘No, I choose the meeting place. Where is my father?’
‘I’ll trust you, Evan. He’s in Florida. But I can get him to wherever you are.’
Evan considered. New Orleans was between Florida and Houston, and he knew the city, at least the part around Tulane where he had spent his early childhood. He remembered his father walking him through the Audubon Zoo, playing catch with him on the green stretches of Audubon Park. He knew the layout. He knew how to get in, get out. And it was very public.
‘New Orleans,’ Evan said. ‘Tomorrow morning. Ten A.M. Audubon Zoo. Inside the main plaza. Bring my dad. I’ll bring the files. Come alone. No Dezz. I don’t like him, I don’t trust him, I don’t want him near me. I see him and the deal is off.’
‘I understand completely. I’ll see you then, Evan.’
Evan hung up.
‘What the hell have you gotten yourself into and what the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Shadey asked.
‘Documentary lesson number one. Show characters in conflict. You remember at the courthouse – I got your mama to wait out on the steps, when Henderson’s mom came out. Put two mothers fighting for their sons, in direct opposition, together. Fireworks.’
‘But what if he’s bringing your dad?’
‘He wouldn’t let me talk to him. He won’t stick to the deal. He’s trying to convince me that the CIA killed my mother. I’m sure he and Dezz did.’
‘You saw their faces.’
‘No.’
‘Then how are you sure?’
‘Their voices… I heard their voices. I’m sure.’ Pretty sure, he thought. But not one hundred percent sure.
‘So what now?’ Shadey asked.
‘I can’t find my dad dodging bullets, running all the time. I played this by their rules, now I’m playing it by mine.’ He hoisted the camcorder out of the duffel bag. ‘These folks stick to shadow. I’m dragging their asses out into the light.’
‘And you gonna do all this by yourself?’ Shadey said.
‘I am.’
‘No. You’re not. I’ll go with you.’
‘I’m not guilting you, it’s not your fight.’
‘Shut up. I’m coming. End of discussion.’ Shadey folded his big arms. ‘I don’t like these people trying to play me. And I figure I need to get you back in debt to me.’
‘All right.’ Evan picked up the cell phone. Punched the number Bricklayer had given him.
‘Bricklayer. Good afternoon. It’s Evan Casher. Listen carefully because I’ll say this once and just once. You want these files, meet me in New Orleans. Audubon Zoo. Front plaza. Tomorrow. Ten A.M.’ He clicked off as Bricklayer started to ask questions.
‘You stirring the pot,’ Shadey said.
‘No. I’m putting it on to boil.’
22
L ate Sunday night, Jargo’s chartered plane landed at Louis Armstrong International. Jargo hurried Carrie into a suite at a hotel close to the Louisiana Superdome. Carrie watched the Sunday-night tourist crowd ambling for Bourbon Street. Jargo sat on the couch. He had said little en route to New Orleans, which always made Carrie nervous. Dezz had flown early Sunday morning to Dallas, planning to break into Joaquin Gabriel’s office to find any records of Evan’s new passports. He was due to arrive in New Orleans at any minute.
‘My son,’ Jargo said into the silence.
Carrie kept watching the tourists. ‘What about him?’
‘He loves you. Or rather, he feels toward you what he believes love to be, which is a sad mix of possession, anger, longing, and utter awkwardness.’