Page 67 of Outsider

He grins. “Ja.”

Gina raises her hand and holds her nose. “Those are some pretty stinky toes,” she tells the boy. “Are you sure you want to save them? Maybe we ought to just cut them off and feed them to the chickens.”

Annie lets out a squeal that’s part delight, part horror. Sammy’s mouth opens an instant before he realizes she’s kidding, and the three children burst out laughing.

“Mamm always said me and Datt have the stinkiest feet in the whole house,” he proclaims with no small amount of pride.

“I’ve no doubt,” I murmur, but I’m smiling.

Adam tugs the boy’s socks from feet that are still red from the cold. The heels are, indeed, pale but I don’t see any telltale signs of serious frostbite. He’s in the process of rubbing the unguent into the toes and heels when my cell phone vibrates.

I glance down and see Tomasetti’s name pop up on the display. Excusing myself, I leave the room and duck into the hall. “Did you make your meeting with Denny?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “We need to talk.”

I know immediately from his tone that something has changed. That it’s not good. “What’s going on?”

“Not on the cell. I’m on my way.”

I’ve just taken my cell out to the Explorer to charge when I hear the snowmobile zipping up the lane. I stand in the driveway and watch as Tomasetti slides to a stop next to my vehicle and pulls off his helmet.

John Tomasetti isn’t much of a hugger. He’s not the sentimental type. And he’s pretty good at keeping his emotions under lock and key. He doesn’t quite succeed as he crosses to me and leans in for a kiss.

“Farm is kind of quiet without you around,” he murmurs.

“You’re not insinuating I talk too much, are you?” I ask.

“Well…”

I ease away from him, tilt my head for a better look, see a flicker of something that gives me pause. “Okay,” I say. “Lay it on me.”

“There’s something else going on with Colorosa.”

“Not to state the obvious, but that could be the understatement of the year.”

“I drove to Columbus this morning and met with Denny,” he tells me, referring to Special Agent Supervisor Denny McNinch. “I told him everything. When I brought up the possibility of police corruption in Columbus, he clammed up, wouldn’t talk about it. Even when I pushed, he wouldn’t confirm or deny much.”

“Tomasetti, what does that mean?”

He shrugs. “If I were to venture a guess, I’d say there’s another agency involved, there’s an ongoing investigation, it’s hot and being kept under wraps.”

“Which agency?”

Another shrug. “My guess would be FBI. If we’re dealing with organized corruption inside a police department, even if it’s contained to a unit or involves just a few individuals, that’s extremely sensitive information. No one’s going to discuss it, at least not while it’s ongoing.”

“What did he say about Gina?” I ask. “I mean, there’s an active warrant for her arrest. We can’t ignore that. What are we supposed to do with her?”

He grimaces. “Officially, we don’t know her exact whereabouts. Unofficially—and just between us—we need to keep her here for a few more days, if Lengacher is willing.” His eyes settle on mine. “Out of sight. Safe. And quiet. My understanding is that the situation in Columbus is about to come to a head.”

“If she’s part of the investigation, if she has information—names, places, dates, events—that will help, why not make it official and bring her in? Depose her. Something.”

“I got the impression Colorosa is in way over her head. I don’t believe she’s the focus of the investigation.”

I think about that a moment, my mind poking into places I don’t want it to poke. “They’re looking at another individual inside the department.”

“Or individuals,” he says. “Someone higher up on the food chain.”

A quiver of unease moves through my gut even as all the disjointed parts of the situation fall into place. “That’s the first theory I’ve heard that actually makes sense.”