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CHAPTER ELEVEN

Charlie didn’t look back as she slipped through the door to the interrogation room. The man inside looked up at her, as though he’d expected Socorro to play into his hands all along. Knowing her father, his love of strategy and his ability to manipulate even the most seasoned preppers, she was probably right. “Dad.”

“You came.” His white-gray hair seemed to glow under the reflection of the overhead lights, aging him ten years if she didn’t know any better. The lines spidering away from his eyes and mouth seemed deeper than even twenty-four hours ago, and she couldn’t help but note the tension in his hands as he pulled against the cuffs securing him to a solid metal ring embedded in the table.

“Did I have any other choice?” Charlie forced herself to take a step forward, all too aware of the pressure of Granger’s attention from the other side of the one-way glass. And he wasn’t alone.

The interrogation room was exactly as she’d imagined. Though the ones she’d seen in her binge of movies and television she’d never been allowed to watch growing up came across grimier than this. If she’d stuck around after the attack at the pipeline, she might’ve gotten to see one herself.

Though Granger had told her he didn’t actually have the authority to hold her father on charges, she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to him after their conversation. Would they let her father go back to Vaughn? Or would Socorro hold him indefinitely in the interest of public safety?

She pulled out the chair opposite her father and took a seat, unable to think of the last time they’d been alone together. Not as one of his soldiers waiting for their next mission assignment. As father and daughter. Charlie locked her jaw against the pain flaring in her legs and torso. The bruises on her hands were darker now. Impossible to ignore. “That woman, Ivy, said you wouldn’t talk to anyone but me.”

“I don’t trust them.” He set his cuffed wrists against the table, the metallic scratch of stainless steel on steel louder than expected.

“But you trust me?” she asked.

Henry Acker shut down any hint of what was going on in his head, pulling away from the table. His hands disappeared into his lap, the chain between the cuffs pulling tight. “I know they’re listening. Watching us from the other side of the glass. Recording us too.”

He nodded toward the camera installed in the corner of the room. The red light beneath the lens said he was right. She stared into the glass, unafraid of exposure now. It was a bittersweet feeling, contradictory to the way she’d lived her life these past ten years. There wasn’t any more fear. Because she had a promise from a former counterterrorism agent that nothing would hurt her again, and she believed him.

“They want to know about the deal you made with Sangre por Sangre . And after fighting against a cartel member for my life, so do I.” Because all of this—Erin’s death, her own abduction, nearly losing Granger in that fire—could all be linked back to the man sitting across from her. Running hadn’t changed anything. He was still the father who kept his emotional distance and favored punishment and duty over the stability she’d needed all her life. And she’d been a fool to think anything would change when faced with the consequences of his choices.

“I can’t tell you about that,” he said. “Not yet.”

“Of course not. Because everything needs to be on your terms, doesn’t it? What time I woke up and went to sleep, what I ate, how many hours I spent shooting, how I spent my free time, who I talked to, who I was allowed to date.” She couldn’t hold back the humorless laugh as the anger burned. Charlie stretched her interlaced hands across the table and shoved to her feet. Though not without a shot of pain in her calf. “Can you blame me for running when I had a shot at freedom?”

“It was for your own good.” He notched that proud chin of his higher. Every ounce the man who’d molded her into exactly what he wanted her to be. “Everything I did, I did to protect you. To make sure you could protect yourself when the fight came to Vaughn.”

“What fight, Dad? The people you hate so much haven’t stepped foot in Vaughn since the night of mom’s death. And from where I’m standing, you’ve brought this mess to your own door by making a deal with a drug cartel.” She couldn’t be in this room anymore. Not with him. Not ever again. “I can’t believe I even came in here expecting a real conversation with you. You’ve never seen me as anything more than something to control. Me, Sage and Erin. We weren’t your daughters. We were tools to be used for your own agenda, nothing more, and that makes you a real son of a bitch.”

She turned to leave. For the last time.

“I couldn’t lose you too.” His voice warbled from behind. So unlike the man she’d feared growing up. “I couldn’t lose any of you. You and your sisters.”

Charlie had almost made it to the door with every intention of stepping through it and telling Socorro’s founder to do whatever she saw fit with her father. But something in the way his voice crumbled held her still. “What are you talking about?”

“After your mother… I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you the way I lost her.” He flattened his palms on the table, staring down at them as though he didn’t recognize his own hands. “I needed you to be stronger than she was.”

A knot twisted in Charlie’s gut. “Stronger how?”

“Your mother wasn’t killed by police officers searching for a fugitive. I know what I told you girls, but she wasn’t keeping them from searching the house. There was no struggle that led to her getting shot. She left , Charlie,” he said. “She abandoned us.”

What? She countered her retreat as a simmering heat spread under her skin, and her father seemed to melt right in his chair. “You’re lying. You said we had to stay vigilant. That Acker’s Army would protect our family and friends from a government that didn’t care about who it hurt to get what it wanted. I believed you. For a long time, I believed you.”

His voice barely reached over the thud of her pulse behind her ears. “I lied. To you and Sage and Erin.”

A hot combination of fear and uncertainty urged her to leave, to put everything about the past few minutes behind her, but the thought of fear running her life a second longer held her in place. Bringing her hand to her mouth, she tried to stop the surge of acid as her entire life came apart. “Her headstone is in the backyard of your property. We had a funeral.”

“You’re right. I had it made when I realized she wasn’t coming back. I just couldn’t tell you girls the truth. I didn’t want you to have to face the fact she left you behind.” Her father tried to push away from the table, but the cuffs protested. “Before you were old enough to remember, I lost my job, then our house, our savings and everything else we owned. We had nowhere else to go. Vaughn seemed like a place to start over. Do things differently. But your mother was miserable from the moment we stepped foot in that house. She begged me to leave, but we couldn’t go back. Every day I dug my heels in, the heavier her expression got. Until I didn’t recognize her anymore. By the time I realized what I’d done, it was too late. She was gone. She’d packed her things and left in the middle of the night. Suddenly, I had three girls asking me where their mother was, and I didn’t have any answers. I couldn’t give you three answers.”

Charlie didn’t know what to believe. Everything she’d known about her father—why she’d been forced to adhere to his rules and commands, why she’d had to learn to protect herself—was a lie. “You could’ve told us the truth. We could’ve handled it. Instead, you raised us to believe our own government was responsible for killing our mother. You turned us into extremists willing to participate in your delusions. You lied to us about keeping the rest of our family safe. And for what, Dad? Why would you put us through all of that? Why would you carry out those attacks if you didn’t really believe in what you were fighting for?”

“I did believe, damn it.” The words were ground out through clenched teeth. He’d lost control, and for the first time in…ever, Charlie got a glimpse of a man who might be as human as she was. “My job, our house, our savings—all of it was taken by this government, Charlie. They laid off thousands during the economic crash. They took everything from us, and I couldn’t let it go. I was bitter and angry and afraid we’d never recover.” Her father sat back in his chair, trying to get his breathing level. “The night your mother left, we fought. She told me that at some point I had to stop being a victim. I had to step up and be a man and take care of my family. So that’s what I did.”

Charlie stood a bit straighter. Not really sure what to say to that, how to respond to the first hint of fear from a man who didn’t seem to be scared of anything.

“That singular focus was the only sense of purpose I had.” Her father’s voice grew stronger. “We were forced to move to Vaughn out of desperation, but I did what was best for my family. I taught myself how to grow vegetables, preserve the harvest, how to shoot, hunt, survive the wilderness, if need be. I stockpiled supplies, weapons and ammunition to defend what little we had. The local church helped keep our bellies full, and I made sure to serve anywhere in the community I could for extra help. People appreciated it. Started seeking me out for advice on how to support their own families. That advice spread, and within a few years of us arriving, Vaughn had become a stronghold against the outside world. One I wasn’t willing to risk losing. So yes, I recruited fighters willing to protect what was ours, and I built my girls to be stronger than their mother—stronger than me—and look at you now.”

His rant had ended, leaving Charlie empty and cold and more confused than when she’d walked into this room.

“Yeah. Look at me now. Look at Sage and Erin.” She didn’t know whether to believe him or not. Or if he was manipulating her to get what he wanted from her again. “Those little girls you promised to protect? We didn’t want to be soldiers or answer to a general. We just wanted our father. To know that he loved us, and you failed. They’re dead , Dad. Because of you. And I’m next unless you tell me about the deal you made with Sangre por Sangre .”

“Don’t you dare try to put Sage’s death on me, Charlie Grace Acker. Had you followed through with your mission, she would still be alive, but you got involved with that federal agent out there and ran. Like a coward.” Henry Acker pulled his shoulders back, sinking into his chair. Calm. Collected. “As for what happened to Erin, you don’t have to worry about that. I’ve already taken care of it.”

* * *

Granger was at the door before Charlie could manage to pull it open.

Every cell in his body honed in on the despair in her eyes and wanted to assure her that anything out of Henry Acker’s mouth couldn’t be trusted. “Tell me what’s going through your head.”

She let the door close behind her, folding her arms across her chest. The motion set off a flinch in her expression. Whatever Dr. Piel had given her to counteract the pain was wearing thin. “I don’t know what to think. My entire life my father told me one version of events, and now… I don’t know what to believe. Except that I’m hungry.”

“I can help with that.” Granger pulled her into his arms, ready to be anything she needed in that moment. Support, a chef, someone to work through Acker’s motives with. “I think Jocelyn just added some lasagna to the fridge. That is if Zeus hasn’t already gotten to it. He’s like Garfield the cat, except he doesn’t know when he’s full.”

“Do you have any insight into Sangre por Sangre ’s plan to attack the state capitol, or how they’ll try to regain their standing?” Ivy Bardot had a job to do, and she wasn’t wasting anytime in doing it, despite the obvious exhaustion in Charlie’s face. “Anything actionable we can use?”

Granger tightened his hold on Charlie. She could only take so much before she crashed from what’d happened over the past couple days. She was running on empty with demands coming from every angle, and a second interrogation sure as hell wasn’t going to make things any better.

“No, but I’m fairly positive he didn’t have anything to do with Erin’s death. The man who took me from Vaughn. He said something about my sister not fighting back as much as I had. My father is many things, but with what he’s told me about his reasons for building Acker’s Army, it’s hard to imagine he would do anything to hurt the family he was so scared of losing.” Charlie hugged herself, swaying on her feet. “Something is keeping him from telling us about the deal he made with the cartel. I’m not sure what it is, but you heard him. My father isn’t the kind of man to take anything lying down. He’s not afraid to stand up for what he believes or fight against a bigger and stronger opponent if it means keeping what he has. My guess? Sangre por Sangre is holding something over his head to ensure his cooperation and support.”

“We know of three attacks that could potentially be linked to Henry Acker. He’s thorough and strategic and, according to his history, has every reason to want Sangre por Sangre to succeed.” Ivy stared into the interrogation room from behind the one-way glass. “What could a man like him possibly fear losing?”

Charlie’s shoulders raised on a strong inhale. “I think he’s afraid of losing me. When I mentioned that Sage and Erin were dead, and that I’m next, he reacted.”

“I didn’t see anything.” Granger studied the man on the other side of the glass, looking for something—anything—that would give him an idea of what was coming.

“When you grow up in a culture of being prepared at all times and where mistakes are more deadly than the words you say, you learn to predict and read people’s emotions in the smallest ways. You wouldn’t have seen it, but the muscles on the left side of his jaw flexed. He was biting down,” she said.

“Let’s say you’re right.” Ivy faced them. “ Sangre por Sangre can destroy your father with something in their possession, and they’re using it to force his compliance. Maybe it’s proof he and his army are involved in attacks like the Alamo pipeline. What kind of support would your father be able to provide to the cartel?”

“Weapons. Manpower. Supplies.” Exhaustion played out in Charlie’s eyes, to the point Granger wasn’t sure how much longer she would be able to stand. She was pushing herself, driving harder than she needed, because this was how she believed she could make up for her mistakes. The truth was she couldn’t. Not really. The five lives that’d been taken the night of the pipeline attack were gone. And they were never coming back. Even if they managed to prove Henry Acker was at fault—that Charlie was just a pawn in his game—that guilt wouldn’t go away. She wouldn’t let it. “But explosives are his specialty. He’s been stealing them from construction sites across the state for years. Primarily C4. Sometimes dynamite. Nothing that could alert the ATF or tie back to him.”

“That was why Homeland Security was never able to pinpoint where the C4 used in the Alamo pipeline attack came from.” Granger should’ve known, but without alerts raised from those construction sites, he and the rest of his team had been operating blind. “That’s how Acker kept under the radar.”

Charlie set her hand against his forearm. “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you, but…”

“You were the one tasked with getting your hands on the explosives.” Hell. Did Henry Acker have no shame? Using his own daughter to commit felonies had kept him out of a federal prison, but at what cost? “If I had any proof of your involvement in the attack on the Alamo pipeline, not just that your blood was found at the scene, I would be forced to arrest you. You would be sentenced to federal prison for the rest of your life. Without parole.”

A hint of fear etched into Charlie’s features.

“Which is still a possibility, Ms. Acker. But considering your cooperation with this investigation, I’m sure I can put in a good word with Homeland Security when this is all over. Until then we’ll assume Sangre por Sangre is in the market for explosives, which means their resources are still dwindling. That could work for us.” Ivy Bardot brought their attention back to her. Time was running out. Whatever the cartel planned depended on Henry Acker, and without the support of Acker’s Army, Sangre por Sangre might jump the gun. “I want eyes on the entire town of Vaughn. Acker might be stuck here, but that doesn’t mean his subordinates aren’t carrying out his orders as we speak. I’ll send two operatives to keep us up-to-date. What about the blueprints you recovered from Acker’s office?”

Granger’s mind was already working through the snippets of handwriting he’d read on the thin paper in Henry Acker’s office. He took out his phone and hit the photos app, bringing up the overhead view of Henry Acker’s desk. “I got a clear photo of the notes, but they’re unreadable. I don’t know what the hell kind of language it’s written is, but I’ve never seen it before.”

He centered his phone between the three of them.

“It’s a code.” Ivy backed away, apparently not willing to waste her time trying to decipher it right then and there. “I’ve seen it before, years ago, but this one has been altered. My partner and I were assigned to a case of a young woman found murdered out in the middle of the desert, and this code was carved into her back. We weren’t able to decipher its meaning before another woman was killed. We had a suspect that turned out to have a connection with an up-and-coming drug cartel called Sangre por Sangre . It was our first interaction with them.”

“You think whoever made these notes might be involved in your original case?” Granger couldn’t convince himself this was nothing more than a coincidence. “Did you make an arrest?”

“We were closing in, but the suspect escaped,” Ivy said. “My partner at the time determined it was unlikely he’d resurface as long as the FBI was on the hunt.”

“So he went undercover in the cartel to find the killer. He’s your source inside Sangre por Sangre , the one who gave us the heads up on the cartel’s interest in Charlie.” Socorro’s founder’s past was beginning to make sense, despite her determination to shut everyone out and focus on the one goal they could control. “And given he’s still there, I take it your partner hasn’t found what he’s looking for.”

“Not yet.” Ivy slipped her hands into her slacks, seemingly at ease, but Granger knew better.

There was an added tension at the corner of the woman’s mouth, and he realized Charlie had been right. Learning to read people’s masking behavior under pressure took time and a skill he hadn’t been aware he’d picked up around his superior.

“What about the code? Were you able to decipher its meaning?” A brightness Granger hadn’t expected entered Charlie’s voice. As though this was the lead they’d been waiting for.

“Yes. In the end, our analysts were able to determine the three-letter key that unlocked the entire phrase,” Ivy said. “Unfortunately, it was too late to save another woman from turning up dead.”

“Scarlett is good at this kind of stuff. She might be able to narrow down the key and get us the answers we need.” Granger had already sent the blueprints to So-corro’s security consultant, but the last time he’d checked in, she hadn’t been able to give him an update. “What were the three letters used in your case to unlock the phrase?”

“B, A and P.” Ivy cut her attention back to Henry Acker, who’d slowly gotten to his feet. He was trying to get out of his cuffs. “The letters themselves didn’t produce anything significant, but there was a reason the killer chose them. We were just never able to determine his motive.”

“There’s another option,” Charlie said. “We recovered the blueprints from my father’s office, but the notes aren’t written in his handwriting. If we’re right that Sangre por Sangre is using my father and Acker’s Army in their plan, it means he should be able to read those notes. We can just ask him.”

“The problem is your father isn’t talking.” Granger couldn’t stand the thought of her going back in there to face the fact Acker had lied to Charlie her entire life. And given her exhaustion and injuries, she couldn’t physically interrogate Henry Acker again. “He’s shut down every attempt we’ve made to get the cartel’s plan.”

Movement caught Granger’s attention through the one-way glass, where Henry Acker was currently bending over the table toward his hands. The man reached into his mouth and withdrew a thin rectangular piece of metal. “He’s got a blade!”

Granger maneuvered around Charlie, pulling her out of his way as he charged into the interrogation room. Henry Acker smiled as he brought the blade to his neck and pressed it through the skin of his neck. “Stop them.”

Granger bolted across the table, but it was too late.

Henry Acker fell against the table as his wound pumped blood onto the floor.