LITMIR.BIZ

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to talk to him, but the coroner refused to take my call or to meet with me. His assistant referred me to the public report, informed me that the case was sealed, and then she totally shut down. Why would the case be sealed unless he’s hiding something?”

      “Oh, gee, I don’t know. Maybe because Crawford was a serial killer working for Homeland Security and that knowledge would undermine public trust in the entire agency? Remember, Homeland Security sealed the file, not the local authorities, and Crawford hasn’t yet been tried for his other victims’ murders. Or maybe the coroner just didn’t want to waste his time on a closed case when he has a ton of open ones to work on.” Grant dropped his voice. “Or it could be that the coroner has known you all your life and he’s trying to keep you from putting yourself in the crosshairs of people who will hurt you.”

      “That sounds as if you think there might be some validity to my theory.”

      “I’m trying to be fair. The case is closed. Crawford did confess to both murders. The coroner did sign off on the Pace report. But if on the outside chance you’re right about this—and I don’t believe you are—then for this conspiracy and cover-up to work, the coroner would have had to sign off on a false report, and I don’t think he would.”

      “Under normal circumstances, I’d say no.” She’d known the man her whole life. He’d given her and her best friend, Maggie Mason, pony rides at the annual town festivals when they were children, and when they’d tried smoking cigarettes as teens and had gotten sick and gone to the morgue to save him a trip to pick up their bodies, he’d assured them they weren’t dying—but if he caught them smoking again, they’d wish they were. “Yet these circumstances are not normal. With Homeland Security involved... They, or the commander, could have pressured him.”

      “Through Homeland Security, the commander might have exerted influence,” Grant conceded. “But it’s highly unlikely.”

      Grant defending his former commander wasn’t surprising. She well recalled her own defensive posture right up until the moment she realized she’d been abandoned. “It’s not impossible.”

      “No, it’s not impossible.” Grant sipped from his mug, then set it on the table and reached for her hand.

      She laid it atop his and he curled his fingers, pressing their heated palms. “Madison, what if you’re right? Say Talbot or Dayton were involved in the murders and cover-ups. Say they did exert influence and the coroner did forge the report. Would people with the power and authority to do those things hesitate to kill again?” Grant gently squeezed her fingertips. “Don’t you see that by pushing this, you’re putting yourself in danger?”

      His hand trembled. She loved that, and wished she didn’t. “I know—”

      “Have you forgotten that just for investigating a classified project to which you once had authorized access, you can be declared a security threat—and the charges will stick? They can declare you a domestic terrorist and detain you indefinitely.”

      “That’s absurd.” She grunted. “They can’t—”

      His expression turned flat. “Check recent legislation. They can and will.” He clasped her arms. “Forget this, Madison. Please. You know the lengths they’ve gone to since inception to keep the Nest off everyone’s radar. If the security breach and your two murders are connected...” He swallowed hard, clearly conflicted. “Do you think for a second they wouldn’t stop you from exposing them by any means necessary?” He rubbed at his neck. “Good grief, the entire government’s behind them.”

      Whether or not the people in most of those positions knew it, the government was behind them. And the measures taken to hide the project had been extraordinary. The need-to-know loop on the Nest was extremely tight. “I know all this, okay?” He cared. He might have to spy on her, but he also cared. It showed clearly whenever he got emotional, and right now Grant Deaver was extremely emotional. She softened her voice. “The bottom line is I believe they’ve buried the truth on two civilian murders. I believe it, Grant. And if they did and I do nothing, and the need arises, they’ll murder again. How many have to be lost before—”

      “For the tenth time, the victims in this case are not lost, they’re dead.”

      “The truth about them is lost,” she repeated, stroking his arm.

      His mouth flattened. “Nothing you discover will bring them back. Their family members have buried them, mourned, and they’re healing, Madison. Think of Ian,” he said, speaking of Beth Crane’s husband, who worked for Madison at the agency. “Don’t rip open the wounds when all it’s going to do is put him back to square one mourning all over again.”

      Grant was right, of course. It was for that very reason she hadn’t said one word to Ian about her investigation. She didn’t want to hurt anyone, especially Ian when he was finally healing, but letting the truth be obscured was fundamentally wrong. Even Ian would never settle for letting someone—anyone—get away with murder.

      Grant lowered his gaze from the ceiling and his voice dropped to a hush. “Look, I know how important finding the lost ones is to you. Even when everyone else gives up, you never do. I admire that about you. But this with the Nest... You’re in trouble with this—if you get caught, the kind of trouble that’ll make your POW days seem like a walk in the park.”

      “I’m aware of the risks. But my safety isn’t my main concern.” She looked him right in the eye, let him see the truth. “I’m right about this. I know it. Can you just trust me?”

      “I do trust you. My trust in you has never been an issue.”

      He was right. The issue was her trusting him, and now he stood genuinely worried. She hated that. “I realize you disagree with me on all of this. You have doubts. But I don’t, and if they get away with killing two people, what’s to stop them from killing four, or forty-four?” She set down her mug. “No. No, I can’t worry about the risks. I have to do the right thing.”

      “Hardheaded, stubborn—” His voice faded into a grumble.

      She pretended to be deaf as a stone. Deeply worried and afraid for her, he needed to vent, and she needed a minute to get her insides to stop shaking. Busying herself, she refocused, refilling her mug at the coffeepot, then returned to the table. “The bottom line is that if Talbot or Dayton are behind the murders, they won’t risk their futures on Crawford getting a whim and withdrawing his confessions. He could recant at any time. They’re going to silence him because neither of them can afford not to—personally or as Nest commanders.”

      “Even if Crawford recanted, no one would believe him.”

      “No, but in the commanders’ elevated positions—their promotions will come quickly now, right?” When Grant nodded, Madison finished. “They won’t risk a blemish on their records, and they know that politically a Crawford confession would become a public issue under microscopic scrutiny in the media.”

      “That much is true.”

      “They’ll prevent that.” If she were right, Crawford’s days were numbered. “There’s another nugget that is even more compelling.”

      “What?”

      Madison leaned forward and dropped her voice. “If Crawford recants, the uproar about David Pace and Beth Crane will pass. But another uproar won’t, and it’ll have heads rolling at the highest levels.”

      The color leaked from Grant’s face. “No. No way. Neither Talbot nor Dayton will go public. They wouldn’t jeopardize national security for media ratings or political points. That is what you’re saying, right?”

      “Under the right conditions, they would.”

      “What right conditions? It’d be political suicide.”

      “Not if they leaked every single crumb on the Nest under the protection of a congressional hearing. They’d claim they had no choice but to disclose, Congress would back them on that, and the focus would definitely

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