Page 18 of Oddly Fine

“Carl Lutham, I’m a liaison agent for the FBI. We’re working jointly with the local PD and federal units on this, so if you need anything, just let me know.” Turning, he led them across the bullpen.

“Why is the FBI in Canada at all?” Beckett asked, which was one of the many questions that emerged during their discussion of the case on the trip to Sherbrooke.

Hayes had checked for anything that might explain the presence of US law enforcement on Canadian soil, but could find nothing in the news that even hinted at a joint operation being conducted in Canada.

“There was a bank heist in Vermont a couple of days ago. Five individuals held up a bank at gunpoint and managed to escape with about $12,000,000 before the police arrived. We lost their trail pretty quickly, but we were able to pick it up again once they crossed the border into Canada.” Pushing open a door to the stairwell, he held it open for them.

“They went through customs?” Beckett asked.

“No,” Carl shook his head. “The Canadian government gave us access to their version of CCTV, and we were able to locate them when they stopped at a gas station a few miles out of town.” He led the way down a flight of stairs, then held another exit door open for them. This one opened onto a hallway bustling with activity, the people wearing different uniforms in a wide variety of colors and styles.

“Phew!” Beckett commented. “I was worried the villains had grown stupid too.”

Hayes just snickered at this nonsensical comment and shook his head.

“How can we help?” Hayes asked, as they followed Carl down another hallway filled with busy law enforcement officers entering and exiting offices along the way.

“It’s a little—complex,” Carl said, glancing over his shoulder to give them a nervous smile.

“Complex,” Beckett said with a snort. “That’s code for a dumbass idea.”

Carl barked a quick laugh but didn’t refute Beckett’s claim.

As Carl turned the corner to enter a large conference room, he narrowly avoided a collision with a sleep-deprived looking guy carrying a huge stack of files.

“Sorry,” the young, redheaded agent apologized as stepped around Carl.

“You’ll have to excuse the—frenzy. This town doesn’t usually get involved in operations that are this size,” Carl said as he steered them into the room.

“We’re familiar with chaos,” Hayes assured him. “Why is this operation so big? I thought you said you’d located them.”

Before Carl could answer the question, someone else did it for him.

“We know the bank robbers are in the area, but they’ve evaded us so far,” a woman informed them from the far end of the room.

Hayes had noticed her as soon as they’d walked in. She’d been standing in front of a wall covered with printouts, newspaper clippings, and pictures while directing agents in a quiet but assured manner. She wore a tired smile. Though it was clear she was exhausted, her pantsuit and white blouse were neatly pressed, and not a single strand of hair was out of place.

“Agents, this is Naomie Cho. She’s the federal agent in charge of this joint operation.”

“Call me Naomie,” she requested with a cordial smile, as she stepped forward to shake hands.

“Hayes,” he greeted her, finding her grip firm but not aggressive.

“Beckett,” his partner added as he shook her hand. “You a Mountie?” he inquired curiously.

Hayes briefly considered warning her not to answer, but she beat him to the punch.

“If you’re going to ask about where I stashed my horse, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed,” she warned with a slight edge to her tone, clearly not impressed with Beckett’s ill-timed joke.

“Of course not,” Beckett replied, shaking his head with a barely repressed grin. “But if you don’t mind, I’d quite like to get this dog and pony show going—” He gestured towards the wall behind her with an amused smirk that said he’d been saving that one as his back-up plan.

To her credit, Agent Cho did not dignify his second attempt with a response.

“Take a seat,” she said, rather sternly.

It must have been too early in the day for him to dig through his mental book of jokes, since Beckett just sighed as he sat down at the table.

“We’ve managed to identify four of the five suspects who fled the bank in a getaway car four days ago. The first was Charlie Carpetio, little-league baseball coach from Boston, currently unemployed, suffering from severe financial difficulties in recent months. Next is his brother Marcus Carpetio. A repeat offender currently on parole after serving four years for assault and battery. The third suspect is Ilya Solvek, a Russian immigrant who served time with Marcus three years ago. He was incarcerated for petty theft, and was Marcus’s cellmate for a few months.”