Sign of the Maker (Boston Crime Thriller Book 4) by Brian Shea (ebook reader android .txt) 📕

"Mr. McLaughlin, we don't release our investigations to people outside the scope of law enforcement." Langston thought of the approval Kelly had gotten to share information with Collins, but he didn't feel the need to mention it to the man across from him.

"Okay. Well, that's good." He breathed a sigh of relief.

"But we do want to know why someone would say that about you."

"I don't know. I moved here from Ireland in the late '90s. My personal history is not a secret. Success breeds enemies whether they're warranted or not."

"You think this could be your opposition trying to throw a monkey wrench into your campaign?"

"I'm not pointing the finger at anybody. I'm just saying, would it be beyond reason to think that somebody was trying to defame my character before I made my official announcement to run for mayor tomorrow?"

"From everything I've heard, you've got a real chance of taking the office next year." Langston could see the compliment register with McLaughlin and worked to ease some of the conflict in his eyes. "Maybe someone's taking a cheap shot, but they're doing it in a way I've never seen before."

"Beyond what I've said, I'm really not sure there's much else I can tell you gentlemen."

"The three bombings seem personal." Langston leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on the worn leather arms. "Mr. McLaughlin, I've been doing this job a long time. When things seem personal, people usually have some personal connection. And somebody's naming you."

"Are you accusing me of being a former member of the IRA? If so, please show me the proof."

"I don't have any. That's it. I just have information. I received it and I'm sharing it with you now, giving you an opportunity to explain anything you want at this point, because as of right now, you're not a suspect. You are listed as a potential target for our bomber."

"You said I'm not a suspect now. You guys are looking at me for this thing?"

"I'm looking at everybody," Langston said, his eyes steel. There was no humor in his voice.

"Tell you what, Agent. I appreciate your time. Thank you for coming here today. It seems like you're working on a bunch of wild accusations and you need to hammer it down and figure out exactly what you're doing before you go barging through any other doors and pointing fingers."

Langston raised his hands as if he were calming a wild horse. "Take it easy, Mr. McLaughlin. I'm not trying to attack you or accuse you of anything. I'm just laying out what I know and doing it as honestly as I can. Normally, I would ask you to come down to our office for a conversation, but time is of the essence and I thought that we needed to get our face-to-face done as quick as possible."

"Well, we've met. And now I think we're done here."

“You’re telling me you have no idea who could be doing this?"

"Correct," McLaughlin said. "I don't know anything about this. I still don't know how my name came up in association with it." The politician exhaled a long, slow, calming breath. "I'm grateful that you came here today, if for nothing else than to warn me."

"With that being said, we at the FBI would like to offer a protective detail to monitor you until we're able to bring this thing to a close. We have plainclothes units from the Boston Police as well as federal agents who are willing and able to provide dignitary protection until this situation can be resolved.”

He laughed. "I have some of the best security in the world. I don't think I need any help from you or the Boston Police right now."

"At least do me a favor and consider it."

"You can see my secretary for my schedule of events. She can lay out exactly where I'm to be, how I'm to get there, and all my events for the next week. I'm hoping that you'll have this person caught by then."

"So do I," Langston said.

"If there's nothing further, I need to take this call." He picked up his phone and stared at them.

"Thank you for your time." Langston stood. Salinger closed his notebook and followed suit. "Good luck with the rest of your campaign, sir." Langston moved toward the door as McLaughlin's secretary opened it.

"Kim, make sure they get a copy of my schedule, at least for the next week, and give them contact information for Hodges," McLaughlin said. "Agent Langston, Clayton Hodges is the head of my security team. He can coordinate with you if there's something that comes up of a more pertinent nature. Kim will get you everything you need and see you out."

Langston nodded and stepped out into the hallway. Salinger hustled to keep up as they trailed behind the secretary, whose gray wool skirt bounced with each step.

After receiving the schedule and point of contact for security, the two agents walked out of McLaughlin's ornate office complex.

Salinger looked at him. "Thought you weren't going to confront him on the IRA stuff."

Langston shrugged. "Me too. But he was playing games and I needed to shake things up."

"What do you think?"

"I think our Mr. McLaughlin is full of shit."

22

Terry Gruen had worn a heavy coat. It was cool. Probably not cold enough for his outerwear, but with his thin frame, he wanted to make a good impression. And the thicker jacket added some beef. His real-life persona was nothing compared to his online presence. To the gaming world, he was known as Terry Bomb, named recently in PC Gamer Magazine as one of the top one hundred gamers in the world. He was well-poised and confident when staring at the multi-screen setup in his mother's basement. Not so much when moving about the world in his human form. He'd secretly prayed to be transformed into the avatar he had created.

Gruen wasn't attractive by any standards, but he wasn't completely ugly either. He was just