"Exactly. Something nasty is in the works and Ingram isn't happy about it. He risked a lot to warn me."
"How did he get onto you so fast?"
"I think I know," Molina said. He looked totally sleep deprived.
"Perry never showed at the airport, so Sloan took Apple white. I waited until Ingram arrived and followed him. He went directly to the federal courthouse, where he stayed for a good three hours."
"Did you keep a surveillance log?" Sara asked.
"I can give you exact times," Molina said, consulting his notepad. He read off a chronology of Ingram's movements in hours and minutes.
"He tapped into my laptop," Sara said.
"Either through Carnivore or SWAMI," Kerney said, swinging his attention to Molina.
"This is the second trip someone's made to the federal courthouse."
"Yeah, Perry last night," Molina said with a weary smile.
"But it feels like it happened a week ago."
"That's where the tapes are," Kerney said.
"How reliable is your informant?"
"Jake? He's a retired sheriff's captain."
"Perfect. That makes him a rock-solid source. See what more you can squeeze out of him. Get specific information about what's inside that room. Concentrate on communication equipment, radio and television monitors, computers-any kind of hardware that's used for electronic surveillance."
Molina took notes.
"He might not budge."
"Find a way to push him."
"Anything else?"
"Get background information on his law-enforcement career. I'll need to be able to show that he has expert knowledge of undercover operations and equipment."
"Are you going for a search warrant?"
"You bet I am. That room may hold exactly what's needed to break this investigation wide open. Where's Sloan?"
"Following Ingram back to Albuquerque."
"Someone has to keep an eye on Applewhite while you're busy with Jake.
Have Deputy Chief Otero backstop you. He's filled in on the operation.
If Charlie Perry makes an appearance, Larry covers him."
"How long do you want us to go with this, Chief?"
Kerney looked at his watch. It was four in the morning.
"We pull the plug in twelve hours, as originally planned. Can you hang in there?"
"Ten-four, Chief. Where will you be in case we need to make contact?"
"Sara and I will be paying some early visits to a couple of people.
I'll keep in touch with you by cell phone."
Chapter 13
Sara's early-morning cranky stomach slowed them down. She drank a special herbal tea she'd brought along and waved off Kerney's suggestion to proceed without her. His attempts to comfort her were likewise rebuffed.
She dressed while Kerney booked the hotel suite for the remainder of the weekend. She emerged from the bedroom looking shaky and pale.
Kerney wondered how she could do a five-mile run every weekday morning before her classes at Fort Leavenworth.
On the streets school buses collected small groups of waiting students at intersections, slowing up impatient drivers who zipped around the buses as soon as the red warning lights stopped flashing.
They waited behind a bus and Sara said, "Before Lieutenant Molina showed up, I did some Internet surfing on Trade Source. Proctor Straley was one of the original investors. He netted fifty million dollars after the company went public, and still holds a sizable block of shares."
The school bus moved. Kerney let cars go around before passing.
"That tangles the web a bit," he said.
"What if the information Phyllis Terrell passed on to Father Mitchell came from her father and not the ambassador?"
"I've given that some thought," Sara said.
"If Straley is involved in the cover-up, Ingram will have warned him by now about our interest in his Trade Source connection."
"If Straley's guarded when meet with him, or not the grieving father, that could tell he's been alerted."
"Not necessarily," Sara said.
"Straley's a heavyweight corporate player. He's dealt with hostile take-overs, angry shareholders, and a Justice Department antitrust probe. I bet he knows how to hold a good poker hand."
On the valley road to the Stewart residence an SLJV filled with school-aged teenagers sped by. Sara looked at the hillside houses and the sweet mountain views. Cloudlike wisps of snow floated off higher peaks. Soft morning light sparkled against the tree cover.
"Nice neighborhood," she said.
"Why don't we rent something up here until we build?"
"Are you serious?"
"Don't be such a penny-pincher, Kerney. Spend some of those riches you've inherited."
Kerney rolled to a stop in Stewart's driveway.
"Let me girl-talk with Mrs. Stewart," Sara said.
"Are you feeling up to it?"
Sara ate a saltine cracker, gave Kerney a winsome smile, swung her legs out of the truck, and said, "I'm fine."
Kerney hung back and let Sara take the lead. The older woman who let them into the foyer spoke in hushed tones. Her daughter couldn't possibly be disturbed, the family was in mourning, the children would become even more upset than they already were.
Sara countered with a sympathetic smile and reassurances. She understood completely, the visit would be brief, there was new information to be shared.
The woman left to consult with her daughter. She came back and took them down a long hallway past a kitchen where an older man was preparing breakfast for two silent young boys sitting at a long country-style table. They climbed stairs to a second-floor master suite where Mrs.
Stewart sat on a couch in a sitting room clutching a pillow around her stomach. A long velour skirt covered her legs. Her hair, parted in the middle, fell loosely across her shoulders. She had a sharp nose that didn't detract from her wholesome good looks, and eyes that seemed slightly tranquilized. An untouched cup of coffee sat within arm's reach on an end table.
"Lori, are you sure you want to talk now?" the older woman asked.
"It's all right, Mother."
"Do you want me to stay with you?"
"No, you go on."
The woman left and Sara sat on the far end of the couch. Kerney moved to a horizontal window that framed the valley panorama below and perched silently on a low ranch-style bench.
Sara turned to face Lori.
"Thank you for seeing us. I know this must be hard."
"What do you want to tell me?"
"We have evidence that strongly suggests your husband was with Phyllis Terrell the night she was killed," Sara said.
Lori Stewart studied Sara unflinchingly.
"What bearing does that have on Randall's death?"
"You're not surprised?"
"From what I've read, her killer was identified by the FBI," Mrs.
Stewart replied.
"Randall may have been many things, but he was not a murderer."
"Many things?" Sara echoed.
"I'd rather not go into it."
"I can understand how you might want to keep family matters private,"
Sara said.
"My parents adored Randall," Lori said.
"Now that he's gone I see no need for them to feel otherwise."
"He was with Phyllis the night she was murdered."
"I'd rather not comment."
"I know how difficult it can be to talk about personal matters with strangers," Sara said.
"If you wish, for the sake of your parents and your children, what you tell us doesn't have to be made public."
Lori reached for her coffee with a shaky hand. She clasped the cup with both hands, took a sip, and said, "You can promise me that?"
"Yes," Sara said.
"Please tell me about Phyllis and Randall."
"I never wanted Randall dead. I only wanted him out of my life. I knew he was sleeping with Phyllis. It wasn't the first time he'd been unfaithful."