Chapter 6

Indirect Contact

"You must not have been very hungry," Adam said, spearing a forkful of chicken out of the Tupperware container. He studied her face as he chewed. "You're pensive. What's up?"

"Pensive?" She laughed lightly. "Using your prep-school vocabulary now, are you?"

"Pensive," he intoned, seriously. "Engaged in, involving, or reflecting deep or serious thought."

He grinned. "I got a 730 in reading on my SATs."

"All for naught."

"I went to college."

"Went being the operative word."

"Not all of us are cut out for the educational hierarchy. We prefer to learn in the School of Life."

He continued to study her. "Really, Annie, what's going on? Is it work?"

She yawned. It was close to 3 a.m. Usually she was fast asleep by the time Adam came home from rehearsal, but tonight she'd tossed and turned, unable to turn off her mind. She had jumped out of bed when she heard his key in the lock and met him in the kitchen. Now, she bit her lip and pushed the photo she had printed out across the counter toward him.

"Who's this?"

"Do you think we look alike?"

Adam cocked his head and held the photo up. "He's white."

"No shit," Anna said.

"I guess there are some similarities," he said. "The cheekbones, and maybe the mouth. Why?"

"You remember that phone call from my mother?" she went on, explaining the events of the last 24 hours up to her conversation with Winona. "So . . . I kind of invited them, here."

He looked more closely at the picture. "This guy thinks he might be your half-brother?"

She nodded. "And my mother seems to agree with him."

Adam smiled and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "And you want me to cook a fabulous meal and impress the hell out of them."

She returned the smile. "We could always go to a restaurant."

"Without reservations on a weekend night in D.C.?" He wagged a finger in her face. "Haven't you learned anything living here?" He stepped in, putting his arms around her. "Besides, they have a baby, right? I can cook a better meal than any of the places we could go to with a baby in tow."

"Well, I might've told her – Winona – that you were a gourmet chef," she planted a kiss at the base of his throat. He smelled faintly of pot. She knew he smoked a little when he was with the band, but he didn't do it often and never around her.

"Flattery will get you lots of places." He tipped her chin up, kissing her mouth. "But I'm whipped. Let's get some sleep first."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"Raylan," Winona shook her man again, determined that this time, she was going to wake him.

"Wha?" he startled, opening his eyes.

She was direct. "You need to get in the shower."

Squinting his eyes, he was confused, being awakened in a start. His first sight was Winona, dressed in a fresh cotton top and jeans, smelling really good. He reached up and began to pull her down towards him, on the bed.

"Not now, Cowboy. We need to get going," she explained, speaking fast. "Anna called, and we're all going to Washington D.C. to meet her."

Raylan reached up and touched his spinning forehead. "Anna called?" He looked over at the digital clock that read 6:14 A.M. Slowly piecing things together, he sat up and blurted out, "You were supposed to wake me in an hour, last night."

"I tried," she said, convincingly. "Boy, how I tried. You were exhausted last night. Comatose."

It was only then, he noticed Willa, happily babbling from her port-o-crib. And the sun was beginning to shine glints of its rising rays through the closed mini blinds.

"It's a nine or ten hour drive to DC," Winona went on. "You need to get showered so we can get on the road. We'll be driving against traffic and should make pretty good time this morning. I'll even volunteer to drive the first leg."

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he again asked, "You talked to Anna last night?"

"Yes," she repeated. "I spoke to Anna, and she wants us to come up to where she lives in D.C. so she can meet us. I'll fill you in after we get on the road. I got us pretty well packed."

Raylan slowly slid his legs over the side and rose to his feet. He had fallen asleep in his clothes. Stumbling to the bathroom, he turned on the shower and closed the door.

While Raylan was showering, Winona went over to Willa. "Come here, Punkin'. We need to get you fed and dressed. How would you like to meet your Aunt Anna?"

"Da-da-da-da," the baby moved her hand in cadence with her speech.

"Yes, Aunt Anna is Daddy's sister," Winona explained while beginning a diaper change. "At least, that's what we think," she mumbled to herself. "And your Aunt Gayle is Mama's sister."

She gave Willa a good nursing, on both sides, and then, changed her little one into a comfortable cotton, pale green sun dress with matching crib shoes and hat to keep the sun out of her eyes. Placing her in her carrier, up on the kitchen table, she handed Willa her beloved monkey.

The diaper bag was packed. Check. Her and Raylan's bags were packed and lined up near the door. Check. She had laid out Raylan's clean clothes for the day on the bed. Check. She had a change of clothes for each of them on hangers to go inside the car. Check. And there was a bag of dirty laundry that she would have to deal with later. Check.

Winona reached for a banana while waiting for Raylan to dry his hair.

"Na-na-na," Willa waved her arms in delight.

"Well, I actually got this banana for me," Winona informed her daughter, "but I'll share with you." She went into the kitchen for a bowl and a fork and returned to mash half of the big piece of fruit for Willa. She put a bib on the babe to protect her pretty little dress and munched on the other half in between bites of feeding Willa.

After she spooned the last bite into Willa's mouth, she went into the kitchen to put the bowl in the sink and throw away the peel. Raylan emerged from the bedroom.

"So, we're goin' to DC," he said, looking at their bags all packed.

"Yes," she said. "Here. Put your dirty clothes in the bathroom in this." She handed him a plastic bag. "And grab anything else that's yours from the bedroom and the bathroom. We're ready to load the car."

Raylan disappeared for a moment and reemerged. "What time did ya' get up this morning?"

"Oh, I don't know. About five?" she guessed. Truth was, she didn't sleep very well after all the excitement.

"Ya' want me to start loadin' the car?" he asked, going with the fast pace set by Winona.

Winona nodded. "And I'll call the front desk and check us out, okay?"

"Sure." Raylan grabbed their bags and headed for the trunk of his car. He returned for the port-o-crib.

When he returned for the second time, they both took a last look around the room, searching for anything that needed to come with them.

"Wait. We have some leftovers we can take with us," Winona remembered. She went to the fridge and picked up a bag that she packed. "And there's ice cream in there, if you want it for breakfast. No sense in leaving it here."

"Good thinkin'," he said and grabbed the pint of French vanilla from the freezer.

Raylan had Willa in her carrier and the diaper bag strapped over his shoulder, with the ice cream and a pilfered spoon in his hand with his car keys. Winona had the bag of leftovers, her purse, and their change of clothes on hangers in hers.

"Okay," she said. "Looks like we have everything."

Before leaving the room, Raylan approached Winona. He searched her eyes and leaned down and gave her a deep kiss, to which she responded. Coming up for air, he said, "Thank you. For talkin' to Anna and makin' these plans...and for gettin' us on the road so fast." And he gave her another peck before they left the room and closed the door behind them.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Anna headed into the office first thing in the morning, skipping her run in hopes of being able to leave work a little early. Jason looked up from the computer and raised an eyebrow when she walked in.

"Finchbaugh wants to see you in his office."

"Great," Anna sighed, tossing her case on the chair and setting her coffee on the desk. "Any idea why?"

"Might be something to do with the Kendrick case. He's got Weston from Homeland Security and some lady from the Marshal Service in there with him."

"The Marshals?" Anna's stomach did a flip, and she said a silent prayer that this had nothing to do with Ben's fishing expedition on her behalf. She took a long sip of coffee trying to clear the morning fog. "Might as well get it over with," she muttered half to herself. Jason chuckled and went back to his paperwork.

Finchbaugh was leaning on his desk, arms crossed over his chest, his ample belly lapping over the waistband of his khaki pants. Everything about him was wrinkled, from the sagging skin of his neck to the faded socks sticking out of his loafers. Even his hair looked matted and slept in.

Todd Weston, the representative of Homeland Security was a direct contrast. His blond hair was military-short; his dark slacks creased neatly, his shoes shined. There wasn't a spot or smudge on his white button-down shirt. Only his tie, one of those Jerry Garcia acid trips, this one in bright abstract swirls of orange, red, and yellow, gave any clue to a personality behind the façade.

Anna didn't recognize the woman in the room. She was facing Finchbaugh, with her back to the door, one hand on her hip, the other gesturing. Her dark hair was pinned back in a silver clip and her gray linen suit was fitted to her form. This must be Ben's boss, the one who was rarely happy. Anna's stomach did another flip.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Ah," her boss looked up. "Anna, come in. This is the one I was telling you about," he said, a note of pride in his voice. "She did all the legwork on this guy."

So it was about Kendrick.

"Anna," he went on. "You know Todd Weston, this is Assistant Director Goodall of the Marshals Service.

"Nice to meet you," the woman said, turning with as fake a smile as Anna had ever seen. Her sharp brown eyes met Anna's for a moment, and Anna saw a glint of interest. She would bet this woman knew all about her inquiry, and she sent a silent apology to Ben.

Weston rose from his chair. "Good work, Agent Rulé. I think we have enough information to go forward."

"If I might ask," Anna said, feeling territorial. "How is the Marshals Service involved?"

Goodall produced a file, handing Anna a picture. "We think this man is a part of Kendrick's inner circle. His name is John Edward Burke, but he goes by Jeb Himmler."

"Whoa," Weston said. "Himmler? As in Heinrich Himmler? The head of Hitler's SS?"

"We assume so, yes."

Weston gave a low whistle.

"We've been after him for almost eight years. He walked away from a work detail at the Kansas State Penitentiary where he was serving time for assault and arson. He's suspected in the death of an elderly couple in the area whose car was found abandoned near Springfield, Missouri."

Anna looked at the prison mug shot and handed it back to Goodall. "That's not far from Kendrick's compound outside of Bolivar."

"Bingo," Finchbaugh said, grinning.

Goodall looked at him and gave the tiniest shake of her head. "It's enough for us to look a little further into this. I want you on it," she directed this to Anna. "Since you did the research, get your things together and meet us in the conference room. It's going to be a late night."

As the others left Finchbaugh's office, Goodall lingered behind.

"Agent Rulé. Would you be able to verify for me that her maiden name is Dumoir?" she asked her FBI counterpart, using the correct pronunciation of both Anna's surnames.

Puzzled, Assistant Director Finchbaugh pulled up Anna's file on his laptop. Scanning the dossier on his screen, he answered, "Yes. But as a return courtesy, would you mind telling me why you ask?"

"It has something to do with that matter you started to ask me about when I first arrived, Deputy Marshal Raylan Givens," she shared. "You see, not only was Agent Rulé searching for information on Marshal Givens. It appears Marshal Givens conducted a search for information on Anna Dumois of New Orleans, as well."

"Your Marshal Givens. Is he a good Marshal?"

"He's the most effective marshal I have," Goodall answered frankly. Then, a tight smile crossed her lips. "But he's also not what I would describe as 'by the book.' In fact, a Hazmat crew often has to go in and clean up after him."

Finchbaugh nodded his head. "That colorful description reminds me of a certain Agent I know."

"Agent Rulé?" Goodall guessed.

"The one and only," Finchbaugh said, nodding again.

"Interesting," she said.

He asked, "What do you think it all means?"

"I'm not sure," she answered. "I know one thing. I don't believe in coincidences."

Her counterpart agreed. "Neither do I."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

By noon, Winona had driven them all the way to Greensboro, North Carolina, stopping only once for drive through coffee and a pee break. The lunch traffic in Greensboro was the heaviest she encountered thus far, and Willa had woken from a nap and was just beginning to fuss. They decided it was a good time to stop, have some lunch, and stretch their legs, as Raylan finished off the ice cream and dinner leftovers for breakfast. Off the 85, a hungry Winona saw a sign for a Mexican Café called Los Gordos. Driving up to the restaurant, she was not disappointed.

Raylan unlocked Willa's infant seat and grabbed her diaper bag. Once inside, there was a five to ten minute wait to be seated, so he and Winona took turns using the restroom. Winona took Willa with her and changed her.

Seated and with Willa situated, Winona ordered an ice tea and Raylan stayed with coffee. The healthy, Tex-Mex vibe was a nice change. They each decided what they wanted and waited for the waitress to return to take their order.

"I'm takin' over on the drivin' from here," Raylan announced.

"You'll get no argument from me," Winona said.

"You got us half way," he reached over and squeezed her shoulder. "You've been a champ through this. I really appreciate it," he said giving her shoulder another squeeze. "Heck, you could even get a good nap in between here and D.C."

A moment later, Raylan's phone vibrated, and he received the following text message.

Checking N. R U Coming? Anna-

He told Winona about the message, as he entered a response.

On our way. In Greensboro NC.

In a moment, he received the next text.

I have 2 work L8 2nite. U may hit Beltway traffic. Take UR time. 2 B safe, can we meet 4 brunch 2moro?

He responded with: Sounds good. Raylan

"Well, we don't have to worry about gettin' there by any certain time tonight," Raylan said, feeling relieved. "We should probably call the hotel and make sure a late check-in won't be a problem, just in case we do hit traffic."

"I wonder what Anna does for a living," Winona thought out loud. "I didn't even think to ask."

"We'll find out soon enough," Raylan said.

The waitress came and took their order. Winona ordered a chicken breast topped with sautéed spinach and mushrooms. Raylan stayed traditional with beef tacos. And Winona ordered some plain rice and avocado for Willa.

The food was delicious. After they ate, they talked about how they were full, but not overly stuffed. Fed, watered, and rested, the three got back in the car and hit the road again.

Winona sat in the backseat with Willa. They played, sang songs. Winona read to her, while Raylan listened in. At one point, she discreetly nursed her and changed her diaper. Finally, when they were a half an hour from Richmond, Willa fell asleep. Winona wasn't far behind her.

Raylan's mind wondered as he drove. While he wondered about Anna, he also was amazed at the love he felt for Winona. If he was honest he had to admit he'd always loved Winona, since that night he'd met her in Salt Lake so long ago. Watching her with their daughter, parenting Willa together, made him love her even more. Add to that the way she supported him with this whole trip to find Anna . . . his heart was full to bursting, quite an unfamiliar feeling. He loved her, and she still turned him on, as no other woman could. He watched her sleep in the rear view mirror.

His thoughts were interrupted when his cell phone chirped. "Art?" he answered his phone.

"Sorry to bother you on your vacation, but I have a message for you from the Assistant Director," he relayed.

"Karen?"

"Yeah. Miami is off," Art continued. "She said wants you to meet her in her office in D.C., first thing Monday morning. It didn't sound like she was going take no for an answer."

Raylan let out a sigh.

"I think we both know what this is about," Art said.

"Yeah," Raylan agreed.

"Well, I take it that you'll let me know anything I need to know, right? Like if she fires your ass."

"You'll be the first to know," he said. "Thanks, Art."

"You're welcome. You have a nice weekend."

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen," he said sarcastically.

As soon as he disconnected the call, Raylan uttered under his breath, "Well, shit."

(To be continued . . .)