The Scarecrow

I closed my window after I turned back out onto the main road. When we were no longer in view of Western Data I thought it was finally safe to ask my question again.

“So what do you think?”

“I think I almost blew it. Maybe I did.”

“You mean at the end? I think we’re fine. We were saved by Chavez. You just have to remember you no longer carry that badge that opens all doors and makes people quiver and answer your questions.”

“Thanks, Jack. I’ll remember that.”

I realized how callous I must have sounded.

“Sorry, Rachel. I didn’t mean-”

“It’s okay. I know what you meant. I’m just touchy because you’re right and I know it. I’m not what I was twenty-four hours ago. I guess I have to relearn my finesse. My days of bowling people over with the power and the might are gone.”

She looked out her window, so I couldn’t see her face.

“Look, right now, I don’t care about your finesse. What about your vibe back there? What do you think of Carver and everybody else? What do we do now?”

She turned back to me.

“I’m more interested in who I didn’t see than who I did see.”

“You mean Freddy?”

“And McGinnis. I think we have to find out who this Freddy who quit is and what the deal is with McGinnis.”

I nodded. We were on the same page.

“You think they’re connected, Freddy quitting and McGinnis not showing up?”

“We won’t know until we talk to them both.”

“Yeah, how do we find them? We don’t even know Freddy’s last name.”

She hesitated before answering.

“I could try to make some calls, see if anybody is still talking to me. I am sure that when they went in there last week with a warrant, they got a list of names of all employees. That would have been standard procedure.”

I thought that was wishful thinking on her part. In law enforcement bureaucracies, once you were out, you were out. And that was probably more so with the FBI than anywhere else. The ranks in the bureau were so tight, even legitimate, badge-carrying cops couldn’t get through. I thought Rachel was in for a rude awakening if she thought her old comrades were going to take her calls, run down names and share information. She was going to quickly find out that she was on the outside looking in-through six-inch glass.

“What if that doesn’t work?”

“Then I don’t know,” she said curtly. “I guess we do it the old-fashioned way. We go back and sit on that place and wait for Freddy’s slacker buddies to punch out and go home. They’ll either lead us right to him or we can finesse it out of them.”

She said it with full sarcasm but I liked the plan and thought it could work to find out who Freddy was and where he lived. I just wasn’t sure we were going to find Freddy himself. I had a feeling Freddy was in the wind.

“I think it’s a good plan, but my vibe is that Freddy’s long gone. He didn’t just quit. He split town.”

“Why?”

“Did you look in that box?”

“No, I was too busy keeping Carver busy. You were supposed to look in the box.”

That was news to me but I smiled. It was the first sign I registered that she viewed us as partners on this case.

“Really? That’s what you were doing?”

“Absolutely. What was in the box?”

“Stuff you wouldn’t leave behind if you’re just quitting your job. Cigarettes, flash drives and an iPod. Kids that age, their iPod is indispensable. Plus, the timing of it. The FBI shows up one day and he’s gone the same night. I don’t think we’re going to find him here in Mesa, Arizona.”

Rachel didn’t respond. I glanced over and saw her furrowed brow.

“What are you thinking?”

“That you’re probably right. And it makes me think we have to call in the pros. Like I said, they probably already have his name and they can run him down quickly. We’re just spinning our wheels out here and kicking sand in the air.”

“Not yet, Rachel. Let’s at least see what we can find out today.”

“I don’t like it. We should call them.”

“Not yet.”

“Look, you made the connection. No matter what happens it will be because you made the break. You’ll get the credit.”

“I’m not worried about the credit.”

“Then, why are you doing this? Don’t tell me it’s still about the story. Aren’t you over that yet?”

“Are you over being an agent yet?”

She didn’t answer and looked out the window again.

“Same as me,” I said. “This is my last story and it’s important. Besides, this could be your ticket back inside. You identify the Unsub and they’re going to give you back your badge.”

She shook her head.

“Jack, you don’t know anything about the bureau. There are no second acts. I resigned under threat of prosecution. Don’t you get it? I could find Osama bin Laden hiding in a cave in Griffith Park and they wouldn’t take me back.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry.”

We drove in silence after that and soon I saw a barbecue restaurant called Rosie’s come up on the right. It was early for lunch but the intensity of posing as someone I was not for the past hour had left me famished. I pulled in.

“Let’s get something to eat, make some calls and then go back and wait for Kurt and Mizzou to punch out,” I said.

“You got it, partner,” Rachel said.

FIFTEEN: The Farm