Page 106 of A Deeper Darkness
“Wait a minute. Culpepper is in Iraq. I saw the billet. Are you sure it wasn’t Rod Deter? That bastard was lying to me,” Fletcher said.
“No, not Deter, and Culpepper isn’t in Iraq. He’s definitely in the U.S. I’m thinking probably up there running around the woods someplace close to you.”
“Fuck. Son of a bitch played me.”
“Apparently so. DOD gave us the info we needed at last. His passport hasn’t been stamped in the past month. He’s been in the States the whole time.”
Fletcher resisted the urge to smack his forehead. The documents he’d seen were forgeries, and damn good ones, at that.
“Why lie, though? He gave me a big song and dance about hitching a ride with the sultan of… Just… Fuck.”
“Yep, again. We got confirmation that he’s your dude. Crime scene found a cigarette butt at the Croswell crime scene, in the garden behind the house. Matches the brand we found in his condo. DNA tests are under way, expedited, but it will be a couple of days at least.”
Fletcher slapped the dash with his open hand.
“Son of a bitch.”
“You could say that. There are weapons galore at his place. No telling if one of them will match the hole in Taranto, or you, or Hart.”
“Or William Everett’s mother. Jesus, how could I be so stupid. Bastard lied to my face and I took it like a man, believed every honeyed drop from his lips.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. You know now. Problem is, he’s off the radar. We got a BOLO out on his car. The Garrett County folks are looking hard at anything that closely resembles him. Highway patrol’s been alerted, too.”
“You think he’s up here?”
“All the last pieces of the puzzle are in those woods. That’s where I’d go.”
“Good to know you can still think like a criminal, Cap.”
Roosevelt laughed. “If you only knew. Now, go get him, tiger. And by the way, Hart’s been upgraded to stable. He’s gonna be just fine. We got a guard on him just in case. Thought you’d want to know.”
“Got it. Appreciate that. Now I’m going hunting.”
“Fletcher. Be careful. This guy doesn’t have anything to lose anymore.”
Fletcher hung up the cell and turned to the kid driving, used his most frightening voice. It was the one that always worked on Tad when he was lying.
“It’s time to tell me the truth. You know Alexander Whitfield, correct?”
“Sir?”
“Listen, kid. He’s no longer a suspect. He’s now the target. We’ve got a grade-A assassin somewhere nearby who’s gunning for Whitfield. If you know which camp is his, now’s the time to be honest with me. Because if you don’t tell me, you could be responsible for his death—you feel me?”
The kid gulped. “We’re heading to the right one. Xander just wanted a delay. He wanted you up there. Just not before daylight. You kind of messed with the plan.”
Suckered again. “What the hell’s the plan?”
“I don’t know that, sir. I just do what I’m told.”
Fletcher did his best not to clock the kid, and braced himself.
“Then step on it. Because we don’t have all night anymore.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
Savage River
Dr. Samantha Owens
