The Summer House by James Patterson

Author:James Patterson
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Little, Brown and Company
Published: 2020-06-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 47

THE CELL PHONE belonging to Special Agent Connie York begins ringing and she ignores it as Colonel Tringali gives her a steady look.

“Good morning, Colonel,” she says.

“Agent York,” comes the calm reply. “Looks like your major is going off on a trip.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” she says, thinking, Not sure what’s going on, but I can’t let you delay the major.

Her cell phone stops ringing. The colonel says, “Not bothering to answer it?”

“Not at the moment, ma’am.”

A few seconds drag by. “Where’s Major Cook going?” Tringali asks.

“Into Fourth Battalion headquarters, ma’am.”

“I can see that,” she says sharply. “Who’s he going to see in there?”

“I would imagine someone from the Fourth Battalion, ma’am.”

“Considering ninety-nine percent of Fourth Battalion is now overseas, that doesn’t leave very many possibilities, does it, now?” Tringali says. “Your major is seeing Captain O’Connell, the rear detachment commander.”

“That sounds like a good guess, ma’am,” Connie says, and her cell phone starts ringing again. Months ago she selected a standard old-fashioned ringtone for this new handheld and is glad for the solid choice.

“Still not going to answer your phone?”

“It would be rude, ma’am,” she says.

“Why did your major go to see Captain O’Connell carrying a knapsack?” the colonel asks.

Caught, she thinks, caught. All it would take would be this hard-ass MP officer going in and mucking things up. But what can she say?

Stall.

She says, “The major likes to be prepared.”

The cell phone stops ringing.

Tringali says, “If he’s so goddamned prepared, that must be the same for his little squad of investigators. Right? Tell me, Special Agent, does the name Wendell Connor ring a bell? Colonel Wendell Connor?”

Damn it, the name does sound vaguely familiar, but before Connie can think further, Tringali says, “Colonel Connor is the goddamn garrison commander of this post. Tradition and common courtesy would mean your major should have at least met with him to brief him on this investigation.”

“I can’t speak for the major, ma’am,” she says.

“Certainly,” Tringali replies. “But that’s how you’ve operated. Outside normal rules, regulations, and procedures. Just like the goddamn Ninja Squad you’re so eager to clear. But a little birdie from Quantico told me that you and the rest of your squad are being called back and are going to be disbanded. Nothing can save you folks now. You’ve crossed a lot of lines. Just like those Rangers. They’ve crossed the line, and nobody—not even you and your precious major—can save them.”

Tringali opens the door, steps out, and turns around, putting her hands on the roof of the Ford rental and lowering her head to look back inside, just as Connie’s cell phone rings once more.

“How long will your major be in there?”

Just long enough, she thinks. “I don’t know, ma’am.”

“He seems to be a capable fellow, am I right? Able to hitch a ride back to Sullivan when he’s done?”

“Sorry, ma’am, I don’t understand.”

She says, “Then understand this. Get your ass off my post, and don’t ever come back. And answer that goddamn phone already.”

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