Price looked uncomfortable. "I told your son that I can't discuss ongoing investigations, even to confirm or deny them. I'm afraid that's still my position. I wish you'd called me before having your son drive all the way here from Whitaker for nothing."
"I understand the official position of your office, Mr. Price. What you need to understand is the effect of following it," Richard told the agent coldly. "If Sandra Whiley was working for the DEA and the Whitaker ths Peter, she is guilty of a gross violation of the discovery trict attorney intentionally concealed this fact from rules. If she cons' i pired to have the reports destroyed to prevent Peter from provine her misconduct, she may be Guilty of a crime.
"Mr. Hale, I know you want to help your son, but I'm not going to discuss DEA business with either of you. If this D.A. is violating some law, your son should take it up with the judge we's trying the case."
Hale stared hard enough to make Price break eye contact. Then, in a level tone, he said, "Katherine will tell you that I am not without influence. If I find out that you're aware that Sandra Whiley was an informant for the DEA in the Whitaker case and you kept quiet about it, knowing it could cost a young man his life, I will personally make sure that you wish you were never born."
Price's eyes widened and he leaped to his feet.
"Guy!" Hickox said, holding out her hand in his direction. Price remained standing, but he restrained himself. The U.S. Attorney turned to Richard.
"I won't have you threatening Guy in my office, Richard."
"You're quite right," Richard said, in a tone that let Price know he still meant to keep his romise. "I a lo p PO gize, Mr. Price. I'm sure you probably don't linow ,hat's going on in Whitaker and I'm equally certain that you'll do the right thing, if you discover that an obstruction of justice is occurring there."
Price glared t Richard, but held his tongue.
"Thank you for meeting with Peter and me, Katherine."
"Let me show you out," Hickox answered stiffly.
As soon as they were out of Price's hearing, Hickox said, "How dare you pull a stunt like that? I don't work for. you and I'won't let you involve me in one of your cases."
Peter's father stopped and looked directly at Katherine Hickox.
"You don't work for me, but you are the chief law enforcement officer for the United States Government in this district. I wanted you to know that something very dirty maybe going on in your bailiwick. Something you don't want to be part of. Have a talk with Mr. Price after we're gone. Listen carefully to what he tells you.
Price may be clean, but he can find out someone else is dirty and he can make certain that Peter gets a copy of those reports. I've known you a long time, Katherine, and I know you'll do what is right."
When the elevator doors closed, leaving Peter and his father alone, Peter exhaled with relief.
"Jesus, Dad, are you sure you know what you're doing? Price is a really powerful person."
Richard turned to Peter with a wry smile.
"It's because Price is so powerful that I called him out.
I'm sure no one has talked to him like that for some time. As soon as we left the room, I bet he started thinking about what type of erson would have the balls to p dress him down like I did. And Katherine is going to tell him as soon as he asks her, which should be right about now."
"You might have made him im so angry, he won't help out of spite."
"I weighed that risk, but Pried ce is a bureaucrat. He can't afford a scandal. If someone is fucking around with one of his investigations, he won't like it." :"I hope you're right."
"We'll know soon enough."
"Dad, thanks. You put yourself out for me and I really appreciate it."
"I haven't done a thing. You're the one who's going the extra mile for a client and I'm very proud of you."
Peter's chest swelled and he felt a lump in his throat.
The elevator doors opened and Peter roll owed his father into the lobby.
"What are'your plans?" Richard asked.
Peter looked at his watch. It was after six.
it N "It's too late to drive back to Whitaker. I guess I'll get a room at a hotel and head back in the morning."
"Nonsense. We'll have dinner and you'll stay, with me. You can sleep in your old room."
"I'd like that," Peter said. He didn't know if his father realized it, but he had just given Peter the best present he had ever received.
Chapter TWENTY-NINE.
Peter was exhausted but happy when he pulled into his driveway the next evening. He and his father had not talked about the future, but it was obvious that they had 0 the together. Not right away. Peter still had a lot to prove to Richard, but the wall between them had come down.
As soon as he entered his house, Peter slapped together a quick dinner, showered and put on jeans and a sweatshirt. Then, he checked the TV listings for something completely mindless. Tomorrow morning, Peter planned to plunge back into the Harmon case with a vengeance. Tonight, he would relax and get a good rug s sleep.
The phone rang during the sitcom he was watching.
Peter turned down the sound. The voice on the other end of the phone was soft and indistinct, as if the speaker was trying to disguise it.
"Peter Hale?"
"Yes?"
"I'm only going to say this once, so pay close attention. If you want to find out the truth about Christopher Mammon and Sandra Whiley, take the highway east.
Eight point three miles from the WELCOME TO WHITAKER sign, there's a dirt road on the right. Drive down the road until you come to a barn. I'll be waiting. If you're not here by ten-thirty, I'll be gone. And come alone or I won't show."
The flatlands was a desolate stretch of cracked brown earth that began a few miles east of the Whitaker city limits. No one lived in the flatlands.
It was a place to drive through, not a place to visit in the dead of night.
As soon as the glow of the city lights faded away, Peter felt he was riding through a sea of ink. There was no moon and no other source of illumination but his headlights and the stars, which hid behind a cover of thick clouds. The highway was one lane east and west. The only trace of color was the broken white line that divided it. To the left and right the only variety was provided by an occasional tumbleweed or a patch of sagebrush.
Peter set his odometer as soon as he passed thewei, comrm -rowhitakersign. When it read eight point one, he slowed down and strained toward the side of the highway. The turnoff was more of a dirt track than a road and he almost missed it. The car started to buck as soon as it began traversing the narrow, rutted trail. Peter stared around nervously. His isolation was complete.
There was not even the broken white line to break up the monotonously bleak and barren landscape that loomed up in his headlights, then disappeared as he passed by.
After a while, Peter's headlights settled on a shape in the distance. As he drew closer, he made out the burned and rotting timbers of an abandoned barn. Peter wondered why anyone would have dreamed that farming was possible in this desert, but the thought was fleeting and it was replaced by a feeling of dread when he realized that there were no other cars in sight.
Peter kept the lights on and the motor running. There was a flashlight in the glove compartment He took it and stepped out of the car. It felt very strange to be out at night in a place where there was no artificial light.