Crossbones Read Free Page A

but I trust in your professionalism and will expect your cooperation.”
    â€œChick?” Liz said, looking at her superior officer. “What happened? Is he all right?”
    Whelan nodded, and then the Coast Guard investigator started. “Captain Kidd . . .” He smiled and shook his head. “Captain, is it true you’re a blood descendant of the famous pirate?”
    Elizabeth knew this was simply the young man’s attempt to break the ice and establish rapport. She had no shame about her ancestor, quite the opposite, actually, but it was the smirk she didn’t care for. It put an edge on her voice. “You didn’t really come here to discuss my lineage, did you, Mr. Chamberlain? Do you have some official business?”
    The young man reddened.
    Agent Ramsey took over, her voice clipped and businesslike. “Captain, I’m going to explain some details to you that might help move this conversation forward. At first, they will seem quite sensitive. The facts are not in dispute, however, and the case is bulletproof. We would not have come to you at this point were that not the case.” She folded her hands on the table. “I’m going to be candid with you out of respect for your service to this country, and in the hope you will in turn provide full disclosure.”
    The FBI agent rested her hand on a file as she spoke, not openingit. She knew the case well. “Your brother, Senior Chief Charles Kidd, is the suspect in a joint FBI, DEA, and Coast Guard investigation involving drug trafficking and multiple homicides. His ship just arrived at the base, and he is being taken into custody as we speak.”
    Elizabeth stared at the female agent, stunned by the allegations and unable to speak. Admiral Whelan reached out and gripped her arm for reassurance.
    â€œOur evidence,” the agent continued, “establishes that on June twenty-seventh of this year, Mr. Kidd was involved in a narcotics transaction just off the Washington coast, using his own boat. He murdered three foreign nationals during that transaction. A fourth survived, a witness to the homicides. As it turns out, that man was a DEA informant.”
    Liz processed the words as the CGIS officer and her commander watched her. There was no notable change of expression on Liz’s face, but inside was a storm of scattered thoughts and emotions. Chick, a murderer? Drug deals? Yes, he had his own boat, and when he wasn’t at sea with the Coast Guard, he often went away for days at a time by himself to go fishing and camping. He had a temper, to which anyone who knew him could attest, and he wasn’t the most polished person in the world. He’d barely hung on to his Chief’s rate, drawing the occasional disciplinary action for conduct. There were other issues as well, troubles during his childhood, but these had never seemed to manifest as more serious issues in his adulthood. Not really. A murderer, though? Not a chance.
    â€œCaptain,” the FBI agent said, “Senior Chief Kidd resides with you in your home in Rainier Valley.” It was a statement, not a question.
    Liz nodded. “He lives downstairs.”
    Now the agent did open her file, and read off the address. “We’ll be executing a search warrant there this morning. For both residences.”
    Both residences,
Liz thought. She pictured men in black tactical gear and others in Windbreakers with yellow FBI and DEA letterson the back, storming her home as if Osama bin Laden himself might be inside. It would be a circus, the media would show up, and Elizabeth Kidd’s name—and profession—would be spoken on the air in the same sentences as
drug trafficking
and
murder
.
    Oh, Chick, what have you done to me?
Whether it was true or not, regardless of the fact that she had known nothing about it, Liz had no illusions about what this would mean for her career, her command. The look on both investigators’