couple of times, making angry demands.â He shrugged. âIt was his son who got killed, peckerwood shitheel that he was.â
Maureen winced. âTell me weâre not back to covering up that traffic stop again. I canât. We did our best with that. It wasnât worth the lies we told. Not about Gage, not about Leary. Iâm exhausted even thinking about it.â She waved her hand. âAtkinson is lead detective on the Gage homicide now anyway. I secured the scene the night it happened, took a quick look at the body. The FBI knows all this. That was it. The father can talk to Atkinson. She doesnât want to do it, thatâs not my problem.â
âWhat Iâm hearing,â Preacher said, âis that the feds think the father might be a source of useful intel on the Citizens and the Watchmen Brigade militia and whatever else his son might have been into. The money, the guns.â
âHeâs involved, the father? Heâs part of the Sovereign Citizens movement?â
âUnknown at this time. Thatâs probably the main thing the FBI wants you to find out when you talk to him.â
âWaitâwhat? Youâre shitting me. Preach, the Citizens, the Watchmen, they tried to kill me. And the feds picked me for this becauseâ¦?â
âI donât have specifics on that,â Preacher said. âBut as near as I can figure, while Atkinson is lead on the murder, youâve had more direct contact with the players.â Preacher ticked off Maureenâs connections to the case on his fingers. âYou pulled over the truck with Gage and Leary in it. You took her to jail. You worked the Gage murder scene. Before that, you discovered the Nazi guyâs body, the first victim, what was his name, Cooley.â He raised his hands as if to fend off blame for the FBIâs choices. âAnyways, looks like as far as the FBIâs concerned, you, Coughlin, are the resident NOPD authority on these psycho patriot derelicts.â
Maureen sat up straight on the bench. Livid, she didnât know which way to look. âMan, fuck the FBI. Those terrorist motherfuckers in the Watchmen are already pointed in my direction. With guns blazing. Where was the FBI when these guys were stashing guns all over Central City? Where were they when these guys used their guns to try and kill me? They gotta be kidding me. Papa Gage is their problem. I donât get paid enough for this shit. Iâm doing federal work, I want federal pay, and federal benefits.â
She stood, her legs feeling thick and heavy. She needed to get moving again. She shook her head, turning to Preacher. âThe feds knew Iâd react like this, didnât they? They knew I wouldnât like this idea. Thatâs why youâre here, isnât it?â
âYou got it wrong,â Preacher said. âYouâre way ahead of yourself, as usual.â He threw a glance at the little girlâs parents, who had started eavesdropping. âAnd lower your voice.â
âThey sent you out here to soften me up to the idea.â Her tone was derisive. She shouldâve known, Maureen thought. She shouldâve known thereâd be more dues to pay, even after her suspension ended, to get out from under what had happened with Quinn a month and a half ago. She and Preacher, they were the only ones left around and theyâd never stop paying. But, wow, she thought, Preacher tasked with the FBIâs foreplay? It stung that he would go along. That he would deceive her on their behalf.
âLook at you,â she said, giving him the up-and-down now, âa fucking butter man for the federales . Whoâd a thunk it?â
Preacher rubbed his palms on his wide thighs. Maureen knew as soon as the last words left her mouth that sheâd overstepped, even for her. She thought for a moment he might get up and walk away without another word to her. She took a deep breath. She forced