Fourth Day (9 page)

When we got back to Calabasas, it was to find Epps waiting for us. He was leaning casually over the table in the Great Room, picking his way through our intel with his back arrogantly towards the hallway.

Joe McGregor was standing awkwardly nearby, himself flanked by the two security men who habitually accompanied Epps. McGregor threw Parker a look of embarrassed apology as we came in, received a head shake by way of reply. There wasn’t much short of tear gas could prevent Epps coming in and doing as he pleased.

‘It would seem that locating Thomas Witney did not prove as difficult as I envisaged, Mr Armstrong,’ Epps said when he heard our footsteps, waiting until we were almost upon him before he straightened, turning to add with a mirthless smile, ‘although, naturally, I would have preferred him returning in a more…viable condition.’

Sean’s stride never faltered, he just kept moving, crowding in on Epps until they were bumping toes. Two pig-headed people, equally refusing to give ground to the other. Sean
paid no regard to the reaction of Epps’s security detail, totally ignoring the Glocks that suddenly appeared in their hands and pointed unwaveringly in his direction, trigger fingers inside the guard.

Sometimes, Sean’s utter lack of fear was what frightened me most about him. Would he still take those risks, if he was a father? Would that condition make him more than he was? Or less?

‘If you had given us even
half
the story on this, from the beginning, Thomas Witney might still be alive. As it is, we’ve just come from the scene and you can take my word on it that he didn’t die pleasantly,’ Sean said through his teeth. ‘Now, I don’t expect someone like you to give a shit about that, but two of your own are also dead because of the mistakes that were made here and, if nothing else, the payout to their families ought to make a significant hole in your budget, so don’t you think it’s time you told us what the
fuck
is going on?’ He ended on a bark, cast a contemptuous glance at the nearest gun barrel, three inches from his left eye, and added an almost jeering, ‘
Sir
.’

For a long suspended moment, Epps didn’t speak. In many ways, he and Sean shared the same underlying phenotype. The same genetic predisposition to violence, present at birth, developed by military training and honed by experience. But where Sean’s behaviour was tempered by a basic honour code, Epps’s personality was so balanced on a knife-edge that I had no idea how he would react to such blatant insubordination. Anything from amusement to execution – it could have gone either way.

Instinctively, I eased a few inches sideways so I was fractionally in front of Chris Sagar, keeping my knees soft
and my weight evenly spread. Sagar didn’t react. He was watching the scene unfold with a frozen stillness, like a spotlit rabbit.

In my heart, I yelled silent warnings to Sean, but in my head I knew I’d do more harm than good by interfering. Sean had always walked his own path, finely judged his own risks.

As he’d done, it seemed, in this case.

Epps’s eyes flickered, enough for his men to lower their weapons. He raked Sean with a final disparaging stare before dismissively turning towards Parker. ‘You might like to consider putting your boy here on a very short leash,’ he said. ‘Before he gets you into more trouble than you can handle.’

‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ Parker said easily. ‘Sean does his best work when he’s off his chain.’ He gave what had every indication of an open smile, taking years off those severe features. ‘And besides, he has a valid point, and we already asked you nicely once. Time you levelled with us, Epps.’

Epps sighed. ‘There’s nothing left to say that you need to know. Thomas Witney was our original lead into this investigation. He approached us after his son died. Without him, we hit a dead end.’ He stepped around Sean and headed for the hallway, pausing briefly to add, ‘Take your team and go home, Mr Armstrong. You’re all done here.’

By my shoulder, Chris Sagar stiffened. ‘So, that’s it?’ he demanded faintly, and I heard a tremble in his voice. ‘After everything
I’ve
done on this, the bastard
walks
, is that it?’ He shook his head almost savagely, like a wet dog, voice rising in pitch and volume. ‘I’ve spent months collecting information for you. You know what Bane’s doing. I’ve told
you – about the way he selects people, trains people. As sleepers – as terrorists, for God’s sake!’

He tried to dart past me, to get to Epps, but I grabbed his upper arms and parried when he tried to paddle away. He never even looked at me. His eyes were locked on Epps, pleading now. I heard the bud of tears in his voice, the desperation. ‘He had Witney picked out for something special – something big. You’ve
got
to stop him. I…’

Whatever else, telling a man like Epps that he’d
got
to do anything was never going to be a winning strategy. Sagar saw Epps’s face darken, realised his mistake, and stammered to a halt.

‘The evidence, whatever that might be, died with Witney,’ Epps said at last, voice glacial. ‘Until we have something else – something fresh – the investigation will remain open.’

‘Open doesn’t mean active,’ Sagar muttered, not entirely cowed. He risked another glance. ‘What about the land in the desert Bane’s so desperate to keep people out of, huh? He could have a whole camp of al-Qaeda out there for all you know—’

‘Well, you see, that’s just the problem we have here, Mr Sagar – we
don’t
know,’ Epps cut in, snap to his voice for the first time. ‘I’ve already bent the rules as far as I’m going to on this one and we’re no farther forward than we were at the start. Except that I’m down by two good men, as Mr Meyer so eloquently pointed out.’ The sarcasm twisted from his lips. ‘In fact, we’ve taken a backward step, because Bane is now fully cognisant of our interest.’

He stopped, let his eyes track round the rest of us. ‘We cannot afford another Waco,’ he said flatly. ‘Our only course is to pull back, keep a watching brief, and hope he does
something stupid.’ He paused. ‘I have already devoted too much time and effort to Bane, and this is not our only concern at the moment.’

Sagar shook his head, more helplessly this time. I still had hold of him, felt him wilt under my hands.

‘What about me – the work I’ve put in?’ he asked, plaintive. ‘Was that all for nothing?’

‘Your cooperation with the federal government is duly noted,’ Epps said. He reached into his inside pocket, brought out a thin envelope and slapped it down onto the corner of the credenza next to the coffee machine. I was close enough to recognise the Greyhound bus company logo. ‘And you get a free ride home. I’d strongly advise you to take it.’

For maybe twenty seconds after the front doors closed behind Epps and his men, we stood in silence. Then Chris Sagar lurched out of my grasp and groped his way to the nearest chair like a man feeling his way in the dark. He sat hunched forwards, staring down into the terrazzo tile in front of his scuffed basketball boots.

In the periphery, I was aware of Parker ordering McGregor to pack his gear, telling Bill Rendelson to book us tickets home, first available. I caught Sean’s eye.

So, it’s over
.

Not yet, it isn’t
.

He came past me with a single, unfathomable glance, halted in front of Sagar. The proximity forced Sagar to tilt his head back to meet his gaze.

‘Talk,’ Sean said.

‘W-what?’ The fear jumped behind Sagar’s glasses before his gaze darted towards me, as if hoping I’d safeguard him against this new threat and realising I’d be part of it. ‘What about?’

‘About Fourth Day,’ Sean said. ‘About exactly what Bane’s up to, that he’s prepared to have three men killed to protect it.’

‘Sean,’ Parker said quietly. ‘The job’s done. Let it go.’

‘It’s never as easy as that, is it?’ Sean said without inflection, not taking his eyes away from Sagar’s. ‘Witney’s dead. Don’t you want at least to know why?’

‘I suppose, officially, we are still on Epps’s dollar,’ Parker said, considering. He moved alongside, stared down at Sagar. ‘OK…talk.’

Sagar swallowed convulsively. ‘Where do I start?’ he asked with a tired smile. His thin shoulders flexed with the effort of putting out a long breath. ‘Look, after Bane took over Fourth Day, he used to hand-select certain people from among his followers, sent them off into this area of wilderness for some kind of “special training”, and before you ask – no, I was never among his chosen ones. I never knew for sure what went on out there, but they all came back different – the ones who came back at all.’

‘But you must have had a pretty good idea,’ Parker said. ‘How did Bane explain the disappearances?’

Sagar shrugged. ‘All he’d ever say was that their time with Fourth Day was at an end and they’d decided to go back out into the world.’

‘And that never struck you as…a bit fishy?’ Sean demanded.

Sagar flushed at the note of disdain in his voice. ‘Look, you have to understand what it’s like being inside of a cult. Bane demanded total obedience, that you place yourself totally into his hands, or you don’t get into the place to begin with.’

Agitated, he got to his feet, brushed between Parker and Sean and began to pace, hands nervously atwitch, speaking fast and low as if in shame. ‘He chooses people who need him more than he needs them. He singles out the vulnerable ones, the ones at the end of the line.’ He halted, suddenly defiant. ‘The ones who believe he can help them because they’ve no place else to turn and are going to welcome whatever he suggests with open goddamn arms, all right?’

‘Is that how it was for you?’ I asked quietly.

He nodded. ‘Yes, if you must know. I was one of the lucky ones. I had friends who eventually got me out, got me help, but I was so under the spell of that place it was like being ripped out of the womb.’ His eyes flickered around us, muttered, ‘The outside world was the last place I wanted to be.’

Silence followed this plaintive outburst. He found he could no longer meet our steady stares, mine included. Muttering about getting his stuff together, he let his gaze drop and hurried away, clenched in on himself.

As he bolted up the stairs, his footsteps died away faster than his words. The echo of them lingered inside my head. I could absolutely understand the seductive lure of someone who might be able to fix what lay broken inside me.

And I thought of Witney – his reactions, his speed and his technique. Whatever Bane had taught him, out there in the wilderness Sagar spoke of, did Thomas Witney rank as one of the successes, or his failures? And what had been preying on his mind, that day we’d watched him teach his little class under the juniper tree?

Parker watched Sagar’s retreat with narrowed eyes.

‘So,’ I said, ‘what happens now?’

‘We pack,’ Parker said, succinct, turning so the rest came back over his shoulder as he strode away. ‘The sooner we clear this place, the sooner we stop paying rent on it.’

I shrugged, would have headed for the stairs myself had Sean not touched my shoulder.

‘Charlie,’ he said. ‘Got a minute?’

He jerked his head towards the French windows leading out onto the terrace at the back of the house. I followed him out of the air-conditioned chill and into the hazy warmth of early afternoon. In the greenery surrounding the lap pool I could hear insects buzzing, the distant noise of traffic from the nearby freeway, carried in on a faint ripple of breeze that stirred the air just enough to be pleasant.

Sean walked almost to the edge of the terrace and stared out at the far side of the canyon, where a row of similar palatial homes clung precariously to the steeply sloping ground.

‘What’s going on, Charlie?’ he asked then, his voice hushed against the quiet and almost pained. ‘Why all the secrets?’

His back was towards me, which was a small mercy. I ambled over to the fancy outdoor dining table, sat under the open canopy of the sunshade and waited until I knew I could keep my own tone even before I spoke. ‘Secrets?’

‘Witney,’ Sean said. He turned away from the view to pass me an old-fashioned look. ‘I know how to spot the marks left by a chokehold. I was the one who taught it to you.’

He came back towards me with that long, fluid stride, belying the amount of muscle he carried by the lightness of his step, the predatory grace. The sun was bright and I
almost reached for my dark glasses, but knew they would provide little defence.

‘He put up a decent struggle against Epps’s people,’ I pointed out, but the excuse lacked conviction.

‘Not that kind of struggle.’

‘Well, I—’

‘Don’t,’ he said softly. ‘Don’t lie to me, Charlie. Parker told me what happened.’

Just for a moment, I thought Parker had overridden me and told him the whole story. It took a second of sheer fright before I realised Sean was talking about Witney’s abortive grab for me.

‘He had no right,’ I said, feeling my face begin to heat.

‘Parker had every right,’ Sean countered. Until then, his voice had been calm and reasonable but now it began to crackle. Abruptly, he swung one of the chairs away from the table and placed it opposite mine, sat astride it with his arms folded on the back. He rested his chin, watching me with eyes soft as velvet, hard as quartz. ‘You know what pissed me off the most? That you didn’t feel it was something you should have told me yourself.’

‘That’s just it, Sean,’ I threw back, wearing thin. ‘What I was
feeling
was foolishness, if you must know – that Witney nearly got the drop on me. But he didn’t. I dealt with it and I didn’t think it was enough of a big deal that I had to come running to you with the story.’ I shrugged, discomfited. ‘Maybe, if I’d stopped to give it that thought, well, I would have handled things differently.’
Maybe
.

There was a long pause, then something flickered at the corner of Sean’s mouth, just a glimmer of a smile. ‘With Witney, or with me?’ he asked.

I allowed my own face to relax. ‘Both, probably.’

‘What’s happening to us, Charlie?’ he demanded, and I sensed he didn’t expect an answer – not from me, anyway. After a moment, he sighed, shook his head and let his eyes drift back across the canyon.

I shrugged again, wrapped my arms around my body as if I were cold, and said, evasive, ‘Maybe I just don’t like losing – anything or anyone.’

‘We’re in the life-and-death business,’ he said, serious. ‘It’s unrealistic to think we’re always going to come out on top. There will always be very bad days.’ He eyed me flatly. ‘Another time,
we
could have been the ones in the van.’

I looked away sharply, swallowed.

‘You can’t survive constantly looking back at what might have been, Charlie,’ he said then, and his voice was gentle, almost coaxing. I kept my face averted and wondered if he’d ever know how achingly close to the truth of it he’d come. ‘You just have to concentrate on what goes right, learn from the mistakes, and let the rest of it go, hmm?’

‘I know,’ I muttered, wondering if there’d ever be a time when the words
what if
would go through my head without making me want to weep. ‘I’m sorry. All this…,’ I waved vaguely to indicate the whole place, the whole situation. ‘It’s got to me this time.’

‘I don’t know what the problem is between us,’ he said, hesitant enough to have me looking up. ‘All I know is, it began before we ever left New York.’

I opened my mouth, but he cut me off, reaching out to take my hands in his.

‘We’ve travelled a
hell
of a long way together.’ He gave my fingers a final squeeze then reached up, almost hesitant
when he was always so sure of himself, and ran two gentle fingers down the side of my face. Eyes too dark to have a colour were locked onto mine, as if pouring his will into me. ‘And there’s nowhere I can’t go with you, Charlie. Nowhere I’d want to go.’

Tell him!
screamed a voice in my head.
There will never be a better time than now
.

‘Sean, I—’

‘Sorry to interrupt,’ Parker’s voice came from the doorway, giving no indication of exactly how long he’d been standing there, eavesdropping. ‘I’ve just had a call from Detective Gardner. They’re bringing Randall Bane in for questioning and Gardner’s offered to let us observe. Bill’s gotten me onto an afternoon flight out of LAX and I’m cutting it fine as it is, but d’you want to go?’

There was the faintest pause. ‘Of course,’ Sean said then, rising. ‘When?’

Parker checked his watch. ‘Bane’s on his way in right now, apparently,’ he said. ‘Gardner has promised to keep him on ice ’til you get there.’

Sean glanced in my direction.

‘Sure,’ I agreed, swallowing the bitterness of disappointment and relief. ‘Why not?’