Deep Sky Read Free Page A

program was, it had to require hundreds of people to operate it. Maybe thousands. Impossible to keep them all quiet in the aftermath of something like this.
    By two in the morning there was official confirmation that Archer existed, and that it had been used against the White House. CNN got an Air Force general on the phone who addressed those two points and then spent the next five minutes saying nothing at all in a dozen different ways. No word of a suspect. No word of a motive.
    The helicopter footage remained the backdrop throughout, mostly covering the White House but occasionally returning to the cratered home on the cul-de-sac.
    Travis had an idea that no further news was coming tonight, though the investigation had probably made serious headway already. No doubt there was an official suspect, dead or in custody. Those working the case probably knew most of what they would ever know. But they would be very careful parceling out that information to the public. The process would take weeks, not hours.
    By 3 A.M. the crowd in the conference room on level B12 had begun to thin. Paige looked at Travis and communicated her thoughts without a spoken word.
    Five minutes later they were in their residence on B16, under the covers, holding each other close in the dark. Travis could think of nothing to say. He thought about Garner. Knew Paige was thinking about him too. Only platitudes came to Travis’s mind. Garner had lived a long and dignified life. He would be remembered forever. His death had almost certainly come without pain. Maybe without awareness, even—the blast had probably killed him before he could see or hear it.
    All of it true.
    None of it helpful.
    He kissed Paige’s forehead. Pulled her closer. Felt her body relax as sleep came on. Felt himself begin fading too.
    Paige’s phone rang on the nightstand. She rolled, picked it up, squinted at the display. Travis saw by her reaction that the number was unfamiliar.
    She pressed the button. “Hello?”
    The caller spoke for a few seconds. Travis could discern only enough to tell that it was a man’s voice. He couldn’t make out the words.
    “Yes, I’m in charge here,” Paige said. “Who is this?”
    The conversation lasted five minutes. Paige hardly spoke. Just quick affirmatives to let the man know she was still listening.
    When the caller finally stopped speaking, Travis glanced at Paige. In the diffuse glow from her phone, he saw her staring at empty space, her forehead knitted.
    Two more syllables from the caller. It sounded like, Still there?
    “Yeah,” Paige said. She shook off whatever she was trying to think of. “What you’re describing doesn’t sound familiar to me. I’ll look into it here, but you should probably assume this is a dead lead.” The man spoke briefly again, and then Paige said, “Thanks, I’ll let you know.”
    She ended the call. Her eyes narrowed as if she was reviewing what she’d heard, committing relevant details to memory.
    “That was the FBI,” she said.
    “About Garner?”
    Paige nodded.
    “Do they have a suspect?”
    “Yeah. Commanding officer of the crew on duty at the Archer site—a man and woman, both murdered. Cameras inside the house caught it all; the officer didn’t even try to hide his face. They’re into his financials now, and it looks like he got a giant payoff weeks ago, and spent all the time since making it liquid. Getting ready to disappear. Which he’s now done.”
    “They don’t know where the money came from?”
    “No, and they probably never will. They called here because the assassin left a note behind. The FBI seems to think it was addressed to us.”
    “But you think they’re wrong?”
    “No, I’m almost certain they’re right.”

Chapter Three
     
    P aige pulled the covers aside, arched her body across Travis’s, and stood from the bed.
    “Come with me,” she said.
    She crossed the room, naked, to the desk chair where she’d left her clothes. Travis stared at her body in