Part 45 (1/2)
A million scenarios shot through Lancer's mind as he drove across Fairfax County to the Anti-Threat Center. When he came to a red light, his cell phone rang. He pulled over to answer it.
”This is Jack Gannon with the World Press Alliance.”
”Yes.”
”Are you the agent who was with me in Libya?”
”Yes.”
”I have to be sure. What was the name of the man I was supposed to meet?”
”Corley.”
”I have information that might be critical to both of us.”
”I'm listening.”
”Before I go ahead, I want a name. I want to know who I'm dealing with.”
Lancer hesitated. ”None of this ever goes in print, you swear.”
”You've seen what I've gone through for this story.”
”Lancer, Robert Lancer, FBI, tasked to Anti-Threat Operations.”
Gannon explained Emma Lane's case, the accident that killed her husband, her conviction that her baby was alive and the connection to the clinic and Polly Larenski.
”What sort of information was this Polly selling?”
”DNA.”.
A car horn sounded behind Lancer and he realized he was blocking a lane.
”Hold on.”
He wheeled his car around to a strip-mall parking lot and continued his conversation with Gannon.
”Lancer, I have two phone numbers. You have to search the phone records and see who was buying DNA from Polly Larenski. It could lead us to whoever is behind the child trafficking.”
”I'd need to get warrants. You should call the local police.”
”No. She tried that, there's no time. These numbers are critical.”
”I need to know how you got your information.”
Gannon hesitated.
”Jack, what led you to Emma Lane and the DNA angle?”
Gannon was deciding on how much to share with Lancer.
”Come on, Gannon!”
”Corley sent me his files.”
”What?”
”Before I was supposed to meet him, he'd made arrangements to send me a memory card. He thought he was being watched. The card came to the hotel before I left and I read the files on the plane home.”
This changed everything.
”Are you withholding evidence? You'd better turn those files over to us.”
”I'm sharing the information. Listen, Emma Lane's file was in Corley's information. There's some sort of connection to her baby's DNA. Lancer, you have to search the call history of these two numbers, look for a similar number on both. One is Polly Larenski's home, and one is a pay phone near her home.”
”I want that memory card, Gannon.”
”We can't waste time!”
”Give me the numbers and let's go over everything one more time.”
56.
Big Cloud, Wyoming.
Swirls of scorched pavement marked the spot where Emma Lane had lost her husband and baby boy.
Today under the morning sun, she knelt near it, where the gravel shoulder met the gra.s.s, and placed a memorial wreath of roses against a small white cross that Joe's friends had erected.
Jack Gannon was watching with Emma's aunt and uncle a short distance away. Seeing Emma mourning on the high plains before the majestic mountains resurrected what he'd lost. He thought of his mother and father, killed in a car crash in Buffalo. They'd been on their way to meet a priest who had information on the whereabouts of his sister, Cora. Years earlier, she'd run off with a loser who'd gotten her hooked on drugs.
In the time that had followed, Gannon's parents tried to find her. There were a few long-distance calls from her, an occasional letter with no return address, but ultimately, they never saw her again.
Gannon searched the peaks.
In his loneliest times, when he missed having a family, he thought of finding Cora. He thought of confronting her with all he was carrying: anger for leaving them and hurting everyone. He hated her for what she had done, yet loved her for what she had meant to him.
She was his sister.
As Emma returned to the car, his cell phone vibrated. It was his editor calling from New York. He answered and strolled away.