But I’ve really got nothing because it can all be taken away. I can be taken away. Which means she has nothing. Which means my kids have nothing.
He kept imagining James Harkes coming through the door with knife and gun in hand and his wife and kids defenseless against him.
Bunting spent another hour wandering his New York City mansion. He passed the maid’s room, the chef’s quarters. The driver didn’t live on the premises. A second maid did. They had a nanny, too. She was asleep. Like all normal people, she would be at this hour.
Bunting was awake because he wasn’t normal. Harkes was awake because he was abnormal. And Ellen Foster was probably at her executive desk right now plotting with Mason Quantrell to utterly destroy Bunting.
His phone rang again. It was Avery again. This time he answered it.
Before the other man could speak, Bunting said, “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“What? How did you know?”
“They didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“It’s complicated, Avery, very complicated.”
“Mr. Bunting, I think they were going to kill me.”
“There was no thinking about it, they were.”
“But why?”
“Edgar Roy. Carla Dukes. Mistakes, Avery, mistakes.”
“So why didn’t they do it then, kill me?”
Bunting leaned against a wall of his mansion. “Proving a point.”
“To who? Me?”
“Realistically speaking, Avery, you mean nothing to them. They were making the point to me.”
“To you? Were you there?”
“I was in the next room.”
“My God. Could you see what was happening to me?”
Bunting debated whether to lie or not. “No, I couldn’t. I only heard about it later.” I’m so weak I can’t even tell him what I did.
“Things are really getting out of hand.”
“They’ve been out of hand for a while, Avery.”
“What can we do? Can you call somebody?”
“I’ve tried. They’re not listening, apparently.”
“But you’re Peter Bunting, for God’s sake.”
“I’m sorry to inform you, but that means jack shit to these folks.”
“If they come and get me, next time I don’t think I’ll be as lucky.”
“Neither will I.”
“They wouldn’t harm you, sir.”
Bunting felt like laughing. He felt like sliding down the gilded banister in the two-story foyer of his insanely expensive home screaming at the top of his lungs. Instead he quietly said, “You think?”
“Is it that bad?”
“I’m afraid so.”
He heard the other man sigh. “I can’t believe we have no one to turn to.”
The man’s words perked up something in Bunting’s tired mind.
“Sir, did you hear me?”
Bunting said, “I’ll call you back. Get some sleep. And keep your head down.”
He clicked off and looked at his phone.
Did he have someone to turn to?
Did he dare?
Hell, did he have a choice?
He went to his bedroom and lay down next to his wife. He put an arm protectively across her. He had made up his mind.
I’m not going down without a fight.
CHAPTER 62
“WHAT ARE YOU two doing here?”
Eric Dobkin was dressed in jeans, thick socks, and a cotton sweater as he stood in the doorway of his house.
Sean and Michelle looked back at him.
Sean said, “We need to talk.”
When Dobkin made no move to open the door farther Michelle said, “Can we come in, or do we do the powwow out in the cold?”
“It’s not that cold.”
“I grew up in Tennessee, Eric. This is like Antarctica to me.”
He motioned them in and then glanced behind the pair as he closed the door.
Michelle noted this observation. “We made sure we weren’t followed.”
“You guys are putting me in a pretty awkward situation,” said Dobkin sourly.
“Everyone’s in an awkward situation,” retorted Sean.
“And I thought you wanted to be in the loop with us,” added Michelle.
“In a limited way.”
“Doesn’t work that way,” said Sean.
“In for a dime, in for a dollar,” added Michelle.
“What do you want?”
Sean and Michelle sat on the couch in the front room. Dobkin remained standing.
Michelle asked, “Where’re your wife and the kids?”
“Out. I had today off, just catching up on a few things.”
“Well, we have a few things to catch up on too.”
“Like what?”
Sean said, “Just to confirm, the same gun killed both Bergin and Dukes?”
Dobkin sat down across from them and nodded. “.32 ACP.”
“Anything else new on the case?” asked Sean.
“MSP is just pulling support, like I said. FBI is running the show. And Megan Riley is getting some police protection.”
“We know,” said Michelle.
“You two could probably use some protection too. The shooter who killed Murdock was firing at you too, Michelle.”
“Trust me, I know. But protection would really cramp my style.”
“Who cares about your style if you’re dead?”
“Eric, if you help us break the case it’ll do great things for your career,” said Michelle.
“And if I stick my nose in and mess things up, it’ll mean the end of my career,” retorted Dobkin.
“I thought you Maine guys were made of hardy stuff,” she said.
“We’re also born with brains!”
“Then why don’t you start using yours?” she snapped.
He rose. “Look, I don’t have to listen to this crap. I covered your butt when Murdock went down. I emptied my clip at where those shots came from. And I gave you info I didn’t have to. So lay off me.”
Sean sat forward. “Okay, okay, you know what, you’re right.” He fell silent, letting Dobkin calm down and retake his seat. “For a change of pace, would you like us to fill you in?”
“I don’t know,” Dobkin said warily. “How bad is it?”
“So you have been thinking about the case?” Sean said.
“If I weren’t thinking about it I don’t deserve to be a cop.”
“Before we tell you what we know, what do you think is going on?” asked Michelle.
Dobkin rubbed his chin. “If I had to guess, and that’s all it would be, I’d say Roy must have some sort of government connection beyond the IRS. I mean why else would the FBI be all over this?”
Sean said, “Without confirming or denying that, I can tell you that it has a lot to do with national security. And that Roy is on America’s side. And that those six bodies came along awfully conveniently.”
“You saying he was set up?”
“Yeah, I am.”
“Can you prove it?”
“Working on it. But there are some heavy hitters on this. Real heavy. We encountered them down in New York and almost didn’t make it back to Maine.”
“What happened in New York?” asked Dobkin.
“Let’s just say we have seen the enemy and they play for keeps.”
Michelle added, “And they carry creds that would get them into just about any secure location in this country.”
Dobkin stared at her with an incredulous look. “Wait a minute. Are you saying the bad guys are our guys?”
“Well,” said Michelle, “it’s always been my philosophy that if they’re bad guys they can’t be our guys.”