Cold Spite (Cold Justice: Most Wanted #5)

Chapter 36

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

E arlier that morning, Cas had walked into Building 64 with a stupid grin on his face because he’d spent the night in bed with Delilah and had managed to not completely mess it up. He’d bumped straight into Greg Trainer, who’d narrowed his gaze thoughtfully and wiped the smile right off Cas’s mouth.

“You trained in Virginia Beach, correct?” Trainer had snapped.

“Yeah. And?”

And that’s how, three hours later, he found himself at his old stomping ground at the Joint Expeditionary Base Little Creek–Fort Story, Virginia.

He’d been coached relentlessly on the drive down by a ball-cracking agent named Makimi. For some reason known only to Trainer, the ASAC wanted Cas to take the lead on questioning. Makimi was to observe.

He walked into the interview room at the NCIS facility with Makimi one step behind him and pulled out the seat opposite Petty Officer First Class Kevin Holtz, who’d been picked up late last night on a DUI. The Feds had stepped in this morning and asked for the SEAL to be held until they could question him on suspicion of being connected to yesterday’s blast .

In a rare courtesy from one government entity to another, the request had been granted.

Holtz took one look at him and groaned. His hair stuck up in untidy tufts, and the capillaries in one of his blue eyes had burst—common in divers—giving it a sinister red haze. “What the fuck do you want?”

Holtz obviously recognized him.

Cas had probably seen Holtz around, but he couldn’t quite place where. The trial maybe? Cas had watched the TV coverage avidly in a pathetic bid to see Delilah and then howl at the moon and yearn for her like some lonesome voiceless desert wolf.

Cas sat down and placed the folder in front of him. Waited for Makimi to settle herself beside him. She was small in stature but fierce in personality. He didn’t think she liked him.

“So,” Cas began. “You know who I am.”

Holtz’s eyes narrowed realizing he’d already made a mistake. “I recognize a Fed when I see one.”

His look of distaste was worthy of a sixteen-year-old girl.

Cas introduced himself and Agent Makimi. “I hear you were out celebrating last night, Petty Officer Holtz.”

Holtz’s gaze turned assessing. “Is that a crime?”

“It is when you drive home drunk,” Cas countered.

“I had a few beers with the guys. Base is quiet, so we tied one on. I made a mistake getting into my truck to drive home. I apologized and will make any restitution the MPs feel is appropriate. It won’t happen again.”

“What were you celebrating?”

A sly grin spread over the man’s face. “Being alive. Do I need another reason?”

“No, sir. No better reason.” There was something in the SEAL’s tone that suggested he knew exactly how close to death Cas had come yesterday, and he could only know that if he was in contact with the person who’d tried to kill him.

But perhaps Cas was projecting .

A heightened sense of awareness rolled over him, that survival reflex that had saved his ass on too many occasions to count. He wasn’t in immediate danger, not unless the SEAL attacked him, but he felt like prey, and he’d been prey before. He didn’t like it.

The guy had both wrists cuffed to the metal bar in the center of the table, but Cas knew he was mentally figuring out how easy it would be to attack him or grab his gun.

Cas was not so easy to ambush. Not anymore.

He found himself relaxing. He might not be used to interrogating suspects compared to more seasoned case agents, but he was this man’s equal. He’d been a hell of a SEAL and a fucking awesome drug cartel captain. None of his people had ever dared to lie to him. The gang members hadn’t been Navy SEALs, but they’d grown up on the mean streets, fighting for survival every damned day. That honed a person to the sharpness of a stainless-steel scalpel.

Pedro’s shining eyes flashed into his mind. Some people were innocents regardless of the tattoos they sported or people they worked for.

It was an unpopular position, but he’d been in the trenches with those guys. Pedro wouldn’t have squashed a bug, let alone physically harmed anyone. Bitterness filled his heart at all the things that op had cost him.

He brought his mind back to the seaman in front of him. Straightened his papers. “We’re investigating the explosion that occurred yesterday morning. You may have heard about it?”

Holtz’s bloodshot eyes flicked to Makimi. “I saw something on the news.”

Outrage built that someone had attacked him at Kurt Montana’s memorial, where other people could have been hurt, where his friends could have been caught in the blast. He had no doubt whoever had set that bomb off wouldn’t have given a rat’s ass if he was alone in the truck or not. Attacking him was one thing. Attacking his friends was something else entirely. Cas kept his features impassive, something he’d perfected from an early age to avoid blowback from temperamental foster parents, SEAL instructors, and cartel bosses.

This asshole was probably in on at least part of Scanlon’s plan because how else could the ex-con hope to pull off something with so many working parts? Wasn’t like he could walk into Walmart and pick up C4 and a couple of detonators.

“Evidence has come to light to suggest some of the explosives came from the ordinance kept here at JEB.”

Surprise flickered across Holtz’s features. Then he raised his chin and stared back at Cas. It looked like he was deliberately stopping himself from saying something that might be incriminating.

It was always the people who had something to hide who had to think more carefully about their words. Unlike the FBI agents conducting an investigation, an interviewee couldn’t lie to the FBI without committing a felony. And maybe that stacked the deck in the Justice Department’s favor, but if you had nothing to hide then why risk it? People did though. All the damned time.

After a few pregnant moments, Holtz leaned back as far as he was able in his chair. “What’s that got to do with me?”

“We got a report of missing C4 from an area you had access to.”

His shoulder rolled in a lazy shrug. “Stuff goes missing in the military every day. Surely even you remember that.”

So he was no longer pretending he didn’t know who Cas was. “Oh, I remember a lot of things, my friend.”

That got Holtz’s hackles up. “You ain’t no friend of mine.”

Cas raised a laconic brow. “Because I joined the FBI to help catch bad people doing bad things?”

Holtz sneered. “I bet you were too much of a pussy to stick it out in the Navy.”

Cas had been to pretty much every active war zone on the planet and a lot of other places on missions that were still Top Secret. Being called a pussy didn’t so much as dent his armor, but some guys on the teams had a hair-trigger, and that would be enough to push them over the edge.

Scanlon was one of those guys.

Was Holtz too?

“Instead, you destroyed a good man.” Holtz was preaching now. “Took his career away from him. The Navy took his damned Budweiser for fuck’s sake. Something he earned . I know because I was with him every step of the way.” He stabbed his finger at the table. “He earned that thing twenty times over.” He shook his head. “And Naval Command took it away like some cheap service medal.”

Budweiser was the nickname the SEALs gave the gold pin that featured an eagle clutching a trident, anchor, and flintlock pistol that they received on passing BUD/S. It was the pin won by sweat, endurance, and pure grit. The one Scanlon had dishonored with his conduct.

Scanlon, Holtz, and Johnson had gone through BUD/S together, so it was no wonder they were tight. Cas was still close with his cohort—Tommy Whalen being one of them. But if any of them did what Scanlon had done, he’d be the first to condemn them.

“He earned the right to wear the Budweiser,” Cas corrected. “He lost that right when he began trafficking illegal goods across the border. Naval Command didn’t take his pin, they just removed his right to wear it in any official capacity.”

“All over transporting a bit of coke.” Holtz leaned forward and slapped the desk hard.

The guy looked disappointed when neither Cas nor Makimi reacted.

“It started with coke.” And a hell of a lot more than a bit . “You think the cartel would have let it end there? Before long it would have been weapons and then even possibly people, terrorists, criminals—the very people SEALs are sent overseas to deal with. Once the cartel had proof Scanlon was dirty, they wouldn’t hesitate to use that information to force him to do other things.”

“No one forces Joseph to do anything he doesn’t want to do. Not the cartel. Not you.”

Cas leaned back and gave the guy an easy-going smile. “And that’s what I testified in court. Joseph Scanlon was never forced to transport cocaine across the border. He chose to work for the cartel of his own free will.”

“Testified from behind a screen,” Holtz sneered. “You were too chicken even to show your face.”

That was a direct hit, but Cas refused to react. The only person whose opinion he cared about was the same person this scumbag’s buddy had tried to kill.

Holtz yawned widely, but he looked far from sleepy. Possibly a stress response. From his scruffy jaw and messy hair, it looked like a few days since he’d seen a brush or a razor.

“You about to be deployed?” Or was there another reason for his sloppy appearance?

“Can’t talk about that outside of my platoon I’m afraid.”

Cas liked this game. “That’s okay. I’ll ask your Senior Chief. We went through BUD/S together.”

The man’s mouth thinned.

That’s right, pal . There might be consequences you hadn’t thought about—like being dropped from the teams or losing that promotion you were hoping for.

“Where were you yesterday morning?”

“I don’t have to tell you a damned thing without a lawyer.”

Cas stared right into his eyes. “We are quite happy to wait for your counsel to arrive. In the meantime, you stay top of our suspect list for the attempted murder of federal agents, and we get to tear your life apart, bit by bit until you provide us with an alibi that proves otherwise.”

“You don’t have any reason to suspect me aside from spite.”

“Spite?” Cas didn’t bother to hide his astonishment. “I didn’t even know your name until this morning.” That was a lie, but he let Holtz think it was something to do with the bomb itself that had led the FBI to his door. “We traced the explosives placed in my truck yesterday to munitions that have been reported missing from this base. Munitions you had access to. That’s not spite. That’s fact.”

The stare was less cocky now. Holtz wet his lips. “A lot of people have access to that storage facility.”

Cas held his stare. “I doubt that.”

“I can give you the names of ten guys off the top of my head.”

Holtz would rat out his colleagues to deflect attention. That didn’t surprise him.

Cas examined his fingernails. Bored. “Senior Chief Lopez promised to look into that for me.”

Cas took a moment to enjoy the slight flicker of dismay that crossed the man’s expression. He was trying to make Holtz realize he might not have all the power when it came to relying on the military brotherhood. He couldn’t know where everyone’s allegiance lay. He wouldn’t know whom to trust. Not now. Not anymore. Not with the sort of secrets that ended careers and came with long prison sentences.

Holtz shook his head. “Why do you hate Joseph Scanlon so much that you’re trying to pin this on him? He’s only been out a few weeks. Why can’t you let him live his life? He’s paid his debt to society. You have no right to persecute him this way.”

Cas gave his best surprised face. “I am not questioning Mr. Scanlon.” The use of his civilian title was deliberate. “I’m questioning you in relation to missing C4.”

Holtz exhaled roughly. “Like I told you. I don’t know anything about it.”

“You ever been to Quantico, Kevin?”

The man’s gaze flashed and then shot away. He shrugged and scratched his arm. “Sure. Did my basic there for the Marine Corps.”

“What about more recently? You been there in the past six months? ”

Holtz held his silence and his stare.

“You try to run some surveillance on me, Kevin?”

Holtz’s eyes narrowed to thin slits.

“You know that makes you an accessory before the fact, right? Even if you didn’t build a bomb with that C4, you’ll be charged as an accessory to attempted murder of federal agents. Maybe even conspiracy to murder. You think the authorities are going to go lightly on you because you didn’t press the button? Or maybe you did press the button.” Cas tilted his head to the side as if considering. “We have some eyewitness reports of a man fitting your basic description detonating the bomb. Joseph Scanlon has an airtight alibi, so he didn’t press the button. Maybe he got one of his few remaining friends to help him? Do him a solid?”

Holtz was too short and heavyset for the man he and Alex Parker had chased out of the woods yesterday, but Holtz didn’t know that.

“You are not going to pin this on me.” Agitation started to crack the bullish exterior. “I was on base yesterday. I have witnesses.”

“I’ll need the names of those witnesses. I’ll be questioning them and will require sworn statements from each of them.” Cas looked at Makimi. It was time to start piling on a little pressure. “Let’s cut the bullshit, shall we? We know you took the explosives. We know that C4 was used to bomb the memorial service of a decorated former soldier. A man who deserved better. A man who was working with DEVGRU on assignment when he died. How’s that gonna go down with your fellow SEALs when it comes out?”

Holtz’s throat worked.

DEVGRU was the Naval Special Warfare Development Group (NSWDG), more commonly referred to as SEAL Team Six.

“Did you tell Scanlon about the memorial service and guess I was going to be there?” Cas kept his voice steady, though inside he was shaking with rage. “Did you overhear it somewhere?”—like the bar where HRT liked to drink?—“Maybe from another SEAL? ”

Sweat coated the man’s brow, although the room was cool. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t seen Joseph since before Christmas.”

Cas pulled his lips to one side. “I forgot to mention we have your buddy Johnson in another interview room on the other side of the country.” Cas was bluffing, but Holtz was getting nervous now. The idea of serving twenty-five years in a small cell would do that to a person. “First seaman to crack gets the deal, but here’s the catch. There is only one prize.” It was the wrong tactic to try to dare a SEAL, so he flipped it. “I bet it’s not gonna be you, though, Kevin. Oh, no. You’re going to go down in flames with your integrity intact. Your code of honor is worth a lifetime in prison and the loss of a job you so obviously love. Johnson’s got two kids and a pretty wife to think about. He’s gonna cave like a dam breaking.” Cas smiled a cold smile. “You however? Nope. You’re gonna keep your secrets and take your punishment like a real man.”

Cas examined the scabbed over scrapes on the heels of his hands. “You know we can get touch DNA off devices now? We have your DNA in the database. And Scanlon’s. All it’s gonna take is one epithelial cell left on that bomb. Presumably you wore gloves, but did you wipe away the sweat on your brow and then pick up the C4 and detonator? Or scratch your ear? You think we won’t find the packaging you put it in when we track down the vehicle the bomber used? You really think good ol’ Joe remembered to get rid of it? He’s been in prison for so long it would be hard for him to remember every detail of such a complex plan or know what we’re capable of nowadays. Then there’s the fact he’s been hopping from coast to coast since last Monday. Guy must be running on fumes. Of course, he made mistakes.”

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of Holtz’s face.

“But I still don’t think you’ll give up Joe before Johnson caves. My colleagues out in San Diego are working him hard because they are pretty damned motivated.” Cas dropped the impassive cloak back over his features as he drew out an image of Val’s blackened corpse and slid it under the SEAL’s nose. “That’s their colleague Special Agent Delilah Quinn. Monday night her house burned down with her in it. And then less than 48 hours later, someone tried to blow me to smithereens. All just three weeks after Joseph Scanlon was released early for good behavior.” Cas leaned forward over the table. “A coincidence the FBI can’t afford to ignore. And we know he had help. They’ll get Johnson to flip. I guarantee it.”

Holtz’s face lost its smirk, and his jaw tightened. “I don’t know nothing about that.”

“Murdering women is a new low, don’t you think?”

Cas could see Holtz eyeing him, as if considering making a lunge even though he was cuffed to the table. Cas didn’t fancy his chances, but SEALs were nothing if not determined.

“You really going to throw away an honorable career for some loser who was running drugs that could have killed your fellow Americans while you were working your ass off back in Coronado?”

The man had clamped his lips shut and glared.

“You drive a white van, Petty Officer Holtz? Or have access to one?”

Those blue eyes drilled into Cas now, and he knew he’d lost him even before the guy opened his mouth. He’d pushed too hard. “I want a lawyer.”

Cas placed the photos back into the folder. “That can be arranged. In the meantime, if you’d write down that list of people who saw you on base yesterday morning?—”

“Fuck you, asshole.” He turned to Makimi. “And fuck you too.”

Makimi stood abruptly. “I’m done here. We’re wasting our time. Let’s go.” She opened the door and waited impatiently for Cas to join her.

Kevin Holtz knew something. If they let him out, he was going to contact Johnson and then he’d know Cas had lied to him— unless he could get Trainer to tell the San Diego office to pick the other SEAL up.

“Demarco,” Makimi snapped.

He stood and leaned over the table practically daring the SEAL to take a swipe and earn himself some extra time behind bars. Unfortunately, the guy didn’t fall for it.

“We’ll be in touch.” He turned away.

“Hey, Demarco.”

Cas paused and looked back.

The cocky smirk was back. “It’s a shame about your girlfriend. She was hot. Even hotter now she’s a crispy critter.”

Demarco forced himself not to react even though he wanted to smash his fist through the other man’s face. He was smarter than that. At least he was smarter than that in a room full of cameras.

“Think about the deal, Kevin. As soon as we get that DNA back, we won’t need to sweeten the deal.” He walked away without another word.

Outside, Makimi walked across the asphalt and climbed into her small silver sedan Bucar that they’d driven down here in.

She turned on the tracking app to make sure it was working.

“You know he’ll check for a bug as soon as he gets out of here,” Demarco commented.

“This one is newly developed. Voice activated. Transmits in bursts at a higher frequency than most detectors scan for. When the vehicle is stationary it only sends a signal after ten minutes. Piggybacks off the nearest cell signal. Invisible to most people searching for electronic surveillance, even Navy SEALs.” Her dry tone lightened the mood. “Fraction of the size of a conventional tracker and is monitored via satellite.”

She handed him a second one to look at. It was the size of a computer chip, so small he was worried he was going to crush it or lose it. He placed it back in the shielded case and put the box in the console.

“A team of agents from the Richmond field office have been tasked with monitoring him. They’ll stay close enough they can pick up the trail and stop him destroying evidence should he happen across a white van.”

Cas wasn’t sure they’d be good enough to catch a SEAL who knew he might be being followed. “It lasts less time than conventional ones?”

“Not that much less given the reduced frequency of signals. With luck it won’t matter.” She checked the time on her cell then paused to read a message. “Trainer wants us back at Quantico, ASAP. He says there’s been some sort of break in the case.”

“A break in the case meaning we have Scanlon in custody and whoever he conspired with? Or a break in the case meaning we are one step forward in the investigation that could take months?”

She side-eyed him. “Not sure, but sounded more like the latter.”

“So how about questioning Holtz’s colleagues as to his whereabouts yesterday morning before we head back? Save us six hours in the car tomorrow if Trainer decides we have to come back to do exactly that.”

She narrowed her gaze, weighing his request.

Technically Cas was a higher rank, but Trainer seemed to listen to the other agent. Cas didn’t want her persuading the task force leader that he was more trouble than he was worth. He wanted to be as close to the case as he was able to get. As close to Delilah as humanly possible.

“You said yourself we want Holtz to know we’re serious. We may be bluffing about some aspects, but we know he might be involved, and we need to verify his alibi. Plus, he might head straight to the van as soon as he’s released, in which case we’re still here and ready to follow up.”

Her mouth curled into a sudden smile. “Funny, you don’t look like a screaming optimist, but the words coming out of your mouth prove otherwise.” She started the engine. “Fine. We’ll take a couple hours on the base, talk to his colleagues. Check out what explosives he might have had access to—to send him a message that we are not playing games. ”

Cas grinned.

“Let’s hope your old friends don’t decide they like him more than they like you.”

He pressed his hand to his heart. “You wound me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “Save it for someone who cares.”

But he could tell he was growing on her.