AllFreeNovel
Share Us
enemies gain access to this information it could be 9/11 again, only far worse.”
“That’s a big statement,” said Bogart, staring at her in amazement. “If things are that dire, our agencies cooperating may be the best strategy.”
Brown rose. “Thank you for your time. I would appreciate any files you have collected be sent over to my office, Agent Bogart. You can use the contact information I’ve already provided.”
She had turned to leave when Decker spoke.
“I saw Walter Dabney shoot Berkshire. And I saw him try to blow his head off.”
She turned back to look at him. “And your point?”
“I’m not sure you’re cleared for it.”
She gave him a tight smile, pivoted on her heels, and walked out.
Bogart looked over at him. “We might need to give you a refresher course in interagency etiquette.”
Decker said, “Then make sure Agent Brown attends it too. So what’s our next step?”
“Next step in what?”
“The Dabney case.”
“Decker, didn’t you just hear the woman? We’re off the case.”
“I heard someone from DIA come here and tell the FBI that they’re off the case. I haven’t heard anyone from the FBI tell us that.”
Bogart started to say something but remained silent.
Milligan said, “I think Decker has a point, Ross. And far worse than 9/11? Our mission is to protect the United States. If the Bureau’s not going to be involved in something potentially this big, then what the hell are we doing?”
Jamison added, “I think so too. And can I just say that I do not like that woman one teeny little bit.”
Bogart stirred. “I can’t say I much like her or getting thrown off a case that happened right on Bureau territory. If the stakes are this big we can keep going, but we have to do so cautiously. Any misstep and we could get in trouble. And that won’t help anything.”
Decker rose.
Bogart said, “Where are you going?”
“To find a beat-up Honda.”
CHAPTER
17
“I’LL ALWAYS HAVE your back too, Amos.”
He and Jamison were in her car.
His knees jammed against the dashboard, he turned to look at her. “I know you will. Have you talked to Melvin yet?”
“I left a message. I haven’t heard back yet. What did you think of this Harper Brown?”
“She’s apparently good at what she does.”
“Which is what exactly?”
“Bullshitting.”
“So you don’t believe what she said?”
“She works in the intelligence field. They’re trained to lie and sell it like the truth. They obviously undergo the same indoctrination as politicians.”
“So if she’s lying, that complicates an already complicated situation.”
“Yes, it does.”
“But why would she lie?”
“She may not be entirely lying. Dabney might have been selling secrets. Maybe he had a gambling habit. But the reason for killing Berkshire doesn’t make sense.”
“But he was terminal. Maybe he was on meds. Maybe the cancer messed with his brain.”
“And maybe, Alex, the truth lies in another direction.”
A frustrated Jamison refocused on the road. “How are we going to find her Honda?” she said tersely.
“We’ve only heard one person mention the Honda. So that means we’re going back to school.”
“You mean Virginia Cole, the principal.”
“Yes.”
“But she basically just saw her drive in one day, she said. Do you really think she got the license plate number?”
“I doubt she did.”
“Okay, then what’s your idea?”
“I plan to consult an eyewitness.”
Jamison continued to pepper him with questions. What eyewitness? What was he thinking? But Decker only closed his eyes and said nothing.
* * *
When they got to the school Decker pointed at the doors to the office, where surveillance cameras were aimed at the parking lot.
“Crap,” said Jamison. “I didn’t notice them before.”
“Most schools have them now,” said Decker. “Some schools have metal detectors and armed guards and armed teachers and armed students. Welcome to education in the twenty-first century.”
They spoke with Cole and she led them back to the office where her technical support staff worked. One of the techs pulled the recorded feeds from the surveillance cameras and put them up on a computer screen.
Decker asked Cole, “Do you remember the date when you saw her drive the Honda in? Just ballpark?”
Cole thought for a few moments. “Within the last two weeks. It would have been in the morning, around seven-thirty.”
The tech hit some keys and said, “I put those time parameters in. You can use these keys to move through the frames.”
“Thanks,” said Jamison as Decker settled himself in front of the computer.
Cole asked, “Do you know if there have been any funeral arrangements made for Anne?”
Decker didn’t answer.
Jamison said quickly, “I’m afraid we don’t know that information. The thing is we haven’t been able to locate any family members. Do you know of any?”
“No, she never talked about her family. On our employment form we have a section for a point of contact in case of emergency. She left it blank. She never really talked about her past, actually. At least not to me. I do have the name of one teacher who might be able to tell you more. She’s not in today, but I can have her contact you.”
“Great. Thank you.”
“Absolutely. Anything that will help us get to the bottom of all this.”
Cole and the tech then left them alone.
Jamison pulled up a chair and sat next to Decker as he used the keys to fast-forward through the frames of video. She eyed him curiously. “Is that how your memory works, Decker? Flashing frames like that?”
“Pretty much,” he said absently. “Only mine are in color.”
He stopped advancing the video and pointed at the screen.
“There she is.”
It was indeed Anne Berkshire in her dark Honda Accord. As Cole had earlier told them, it was beat-up. A front fender was knocked in, the passenger door had a long scrape, and there were some rust spots on the hood.
“And there’s the license plate number,” said Decker, who memorized it on the spot even as Jamison wrote it down.
Berkshire pulled into an empty space, got out, and opened the rear door to retrieve her small briefcase and purse. She walked toward the door and thus toward the cameras.
