"The border Lords" - читать интересную книгу автора (Parker T Jefferson)

4

Seliah Ozburn climbed down from the lifeguard stand at the Orange County Aquatics Center in Irvine and walked toward Hood and Bly. The open swim had just ended and the kids were splashing and laughing and climbing out.

She wore a big straw hat and sunglasses and a long-sleeved T-shirt against the sun. Over the last year and a half she and Hood had become friends and she was an affectionate woman, but today she offered no hug in greeting, and no handshake or smile.

"Is he still okay? Why are you here if he's okay? You said he was fine."

"He's all right but there's a problem, Seliah," said Hood. "Can we talk?"

"I want some shade. There's a few minutes before the next group."

They sat facing one another in white resin chairs in a wedge of shade along the locker room wall. The fall afternoon was hot. Hood knew that Seliah lifeguarded year-round, and also taught swimming here at the complex, and was a senior summer lifeguard up in Laguna Beach. She'd been a freestyler in college, third in the Pan American Games her senior year. She was fit and beautiful.

Hood told her about the video of Sean and what they found at the safe house a few minutes later. She said nothing. He said the video was definitive and the neighbors' descriptions fit Sean, right down to the tatts and the biker vest and a cut-down shotgun. She listened without interrupting, hat low, sunglasses on, unreadable.

"He wouldn't do that. He's a Christian. He protects his soul-doesn't ignore it. He's the most moral man I know and I do not accept this. Has he been framed?"

"We're pretty sure he did it," said Bly. "He's right on camera, and there are witnesses who described him in some detail."

"Did anyone see him murder anyone? Did anyone shoot video of that?"

"No, Seliah," said Hood.

"Then I'll wait for irrefutable evidence."

"What you should do is prepare yourself for the worst," said Hood.

"The worst is the cartels bag him and do to him what they did to Jimmy Holdstock. And if that happens to Sean, I'll never forgive you or the holy trinity of ATF. Sean would, but I won't."

"That's why we need to find him," said Hood. "Pretty much right now."

"You'll arrest him."

"We'll give him every chance to explain."

"Oh, shit on both of you. You've convicted him already. You're supposed to be his friends."

Seliah stood abruptly and her plastic chair tipped. Hood caught it with a finger and set it back upright. He had come to know Seliah as a calm and gentle person, even with a husband working under deep cover, and her anger now surprised him. She had always behaved as if her husband needed protection from his employers, an understandable stance among the spouses of people with dangerous jobs. But Hood had never seen her angry at ATF like she was now.

"We are your friends," said Bly. "And friends don't let friends commit triple murders."

Seliah sat down again, then pulled off the hat. Her shiny white, straight hair fell to her shoulders, cut on a glamorous diagonal. She took off her sunglasses and hung her head, and Hood watched the tears run off her nose. Hood set a hand on her shoulder and she shrugged it off.

"When did you see him last?" asked Hood.

"It's been two weeks," she said, holding Hood's gaze.

"You guys had no hall pass for that one."

"None whatsoever. It wasn't the first time. Those precious days kept us sane. Kept him alive."

Hood wasn't surprised. The UC agents were known for sneaking away sometimes-even from their handlers. "Where?"

"San Francisco."

"When did you talk to him last?" Bly asked.

Seliah didn't look up. "This morning."

"Did he say where he was?"

"He didn't say anything. He cancelled his cell service six days ago. Threw it away for all I know. It's all e-mail now. He sounded tired but okay."

Six days, thought Hood. She should have told them about the cell phone.

"Do you know where he is?" asked Bly.

"He can't tell me where he is because I can't know. He can hint when he'll be home. He can tell me he loves me but he can't call me by name because I might become a target. You office jockeys have no idea how awful undercover work is for a married man. There's a reason you prefer them single. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I just said. It's… This is hard. So damned hard."

"We understand," said Bly.

Seliah lifted her face and looked at them, and Hood saw not hours but weeks of torment in her red-rimmed blue eyes. Her pupils were screwed down tight against the light. She was twenty-eight years old. She'd aged since he saw her last. That was what-two months ago, when Sean had stolen a few precious days with her at home and they had elected to share some hours with his Blowdown brethren? She slid the sunglasses back on and tugged the straw hat back into place. Even in the shade her platinum hair shone.

"I don't love the sun anymore," she said. "And I can't stand the smell of chlorine. I've lived on sunshine and chlorine for twenty years and now… something's changed in me. More important, though, something changed in Sean, too."

"We want to know what it is," said Hood. "We want to help him. He's my friend, Seliah, and so are you."

She stood, strong-legged and broad-shouldered. "Come to my house this evening at six. I'll have some things to show you. Maybe you can make some sense out of them. I've tried and failed and now you're telling me my husband is a murderer."