Free And West Is West by Ron Childress Page A

Sloan from Homeland Security has enlisted him in the effort to monitor any future breaches related to Sergeant Aldridge’s old duties.
    Sloan, in her call to him, had explained how an observant correctional officer at Seminole City, reviewing prisoner letters for contraband and illegal communications, noticed that Don was writing to an Air Force sergeant about the recent al-Yarisi strike and seemed to have information that wasn’t in the news reports. New at his job and ex-military, the guard went beyond his primary duty of enforcing prison regulations and passed the letter up to an assistant warden, who then raided Don’s cache of correspondence from his daughter. One of those letters contained other information not publicly released, about the two dead girls, but it had been let through by a less scrupulous screener. The assistant warden brought the letter cache to the warden, who made a call to Homeland Security in DC. It was a see-something, say-something situation.
    Voigt considers that it might have been better if Jessica’s violation had never been seen. Clearly her intention wasn’t to go public about the Yarisi strike not being a clean kill. And Don, sitting in Seminole City Correctional, wasn’t likely to spread the word. But to hell with the what-ifs.
    Reviewing the latest letter, Voigt makes a note that Don has mentioned al-Yarisi’s wives. This observation does not require his special familiarity with the situation. Everyone involved knows those deaths are to be kept quiet. It’s just a busybody’s work, this task.
    Yet through the correspondence, Voigt is gaining more insight into his ex-sergeant, more than he had gotten from her security screening or her record as a drone operator and then pilot. And her father, all things taken, seems a somewhat decent man. Voigt hates to think this, but he is curious about Jessica’s next letter to him. About how she is taking her dismissal. It will be good to keep track of things, and not just for the sake of security. He files the letter, a secured PDF copy, on his hard drive.

CHAPTER 10
    New York City and Upstate
    â€œEthan?” Zoe’s voice is trembling. “Ethan?”
    Caller ID on his BlackBerry had revealed Zoe’s number to him. For the past five seconds, after standing up from his desk in his office at the bank, he has been faking a bad connection, waiting for Zoe to disconnect. He’ll need to change his number.
    â€œMy father said I should speak to you . . . Ethan?”
    Zoe, a catch in her voice, sounds ragged. He has been remiss. It is two weeks since Leston gave Ethan his documents and gradually he has moved them from his kitchen pass-through, to a shelf under the counter, to the recycle bin. The latter was an act of bravado. He was only pretending to throw them out, just as he is only pretending now that he will not speak to Zoe.
    â€œHello,” he says.
    â€œOh, you’re there.”
    â€œI’m here.”
    The ache of her absence returns. It is what he has been avoiding by not opening the folder that Walter Leston gave him.
    Zoe takes a quick breath. The sigh she releases quavers.
    â€œAre you okay?” Ethan asks.
    There is dead air. “Of course, you don’t know anything. You couldn’t, could you?”
    â€œKnow anything?”
    â€œI mean, even though you were in touch with my father.”
    â€œJust once. He came into town to see me.”
    â€œAnd what did he want?”
    â€œHe gave me some documents . . . I’ve been meaning to mail them back. He wanted me to look them over, but I haven’t.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œHe said they were about your . . . family. Not any of my business.”
    â€œThen why did he give them to you?”
    â€œI . . .” Ethan hesitates. He does not wish to say that her father was trying to manipulate him. That the doctor believes that Ethan’s possession of the papers might bring Zoe and him back