“But he did find out the manner of killing eventually.”
Robie looked at her. “And you couldn’t tell me that first why?”
“I like melodrama.”
“How was he killed, Vance?” Robie said sharply.
“They forced his severed tongue down his throat and wedged it there. They used his own cut-out tongue to kill him,” she said just as sharply.
“Thanks,” he said tersely.
“Look, Robie. If the killing of Jane Wind and her husband and the bus exploding are connected, there have to be some common denominators.”
“The only reason you think they’re connected is because of the gun. That gun wasn’t used to kill Jane Wind and her son. As I said before, whoever was in that apartment could have just flung it away after he got out of the apartment. It could have nothing to do with the bus exploding.”
“Or it could.”
“You really believe that or do you just want to have a terrorist bust and a murder conviction on your résumé?”
“My résumé is doing just fine with or without this case,” she snapped.
“All I’m saying is don’t have tunnel vision on this. If the cases aren’t connected then trying to hook them together is not smart. You make assumptions and decisions based on those assumptions that you otherwise wouldn’t make. And you pound round pegs into square holes in the process. You get an answer but it’ll be the wrong one. And it’s doubtful you’ll get a second chance to make it right.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Okay, what would you do?”
“Work both cases, but in parallel. You don’t cross the streams unless you have solid evidence of a connection. And that means something more than a gun near the scene.”
“Okay, that makes sense, actually.”
Robie checked his watch. “I’m going to grab a few hours’ sleep. Anything shakes loose you can wake me up.”
“You have a place to sleep now? If not, you’re welcome to crash at my place.”
Robie glanced at her. “You sure about that?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You were afraid people might give you shit, even though I’m on the couch.”
“You don’t talk. I don’t talk. And even if it gets out, it was all professional, so screw them. So I can do you the favor.”
“I’ve got a place. That changes, I’ll let you know. Thanks.”
He walked to his car. He had turned her down for a specific reason.
In his line of work favors were almost never free.
And he wanted to check on Julie.
CHAPTER
53
ROBIE UNLOCKED THE DOOR and turned off the alarm system. He shut and locked the door behind him and reset the alarm.
“Julie?”
He moved down the hall, his hand on the butt of his weapon.
“Julie?”
He cleared three rooms before reaching her bedroom. He eased the door open. She was asleep in the bed. Just to be sure, Robie watched the steady rise and fall of her chest three times. He closed the door and walked down the hall to his bedroom.
He sat on the bed but did not undress. He felt hot and cold at the same time.
His phone rang. At first he thought it might be Vance, but it wasn’t.
It was Blue Man.
He answered. “Got anything for me?” he asked.
“Leo Broome’s a Fed. Works as a public liaison officer.”
“For what agency? DOD?”
“No. DOA.”
“The Agriculture Department?” exclaimed Robie. “You’re kidding me.”
“No, I’m not.”
“What else in his background?”
“It’s being emailed to you right now. Take a read. And see what hits you.”
“There has to be something there,” said Robie.
“Then find it.”
Robie’s email inbox buzzed. He hit the requisite keys and brought up the story of Leo Broome’s professional life. He read it over carefully. Then he read it again, putting in order certain elements that seemed most promising.
“What are you doing up?” he said, without looking at her.
Julie stood there in sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt and looking sleepy. “How did you know I was even standing here? I made no noise.”
“Everyone makes noise regardless of what they’re doing.”
“I think you have eyes in the back of your head, Will.”
“I wish I did, actually.”
She sat in a chair across from him. “Find out anything?”
“Yes. But not much makes sense.”
“Tell me the part that does.”
“I think I was the target of the bomb, not you.”
“That’s comforting. So I only had one person trying to kill me?”
“Leo Broome works for the Department of Agriculture.”
“Any spies work there?”
“Doubtful. While lucrative, corn subsidies don’t really get bad guys all that excited.”
“So what’s the connection?”
“Might not be any. Then again, there might.”
Robie held his phone screen up. “Broome was also in the army. Gulf One.”
“So?”
“The woman and child who were killed? Her ex-husband was also found murdered. He was in the military as well. Maybe he and Broome knew each other.”
“And if they did, what would they know that would get them killed? And how does that tie into my parents being murdered?”
“I don’t know. I’m still working on the possible theories.”
“And whoever blew up the bus, you said they wanted to kill you. Why?”
“For things I can’t talk about with you.”
She sat there looking at him. Robie wasn’t sure what her next question would be, but he doubted he could answer it truthfully. He glanced around the confines of the room. For a long moment he felt acutely claustrophobic.
“What do you think they did with my parents’ bodies?”
This was not one of the questions Robie had been anticipating, but it was certainly an understandable one. He studied Julie, trying to read something deeper in her question than was probably there. She was still just a kid, despite the street cred, despite the brains. She was grieving for her parents. She wanted to know where they were. He got that.
“Probably in a place we’ll never find,” said Robie. “Remember them as you knew them. Don’t think about where they are now, okay? It won’t do you any good.”
“Easy to say.”
“Yes, it is easy to say, but I think it needed to be said.”
Robie waited for her to break down and cry. Kids were supposed to do that, or so he’d been told. He had never done it when he was a child. But his childhood had not been normal in any possible way.
But Julie did not break down. She did not sniffle. She did not cry. She glanced up at him and the look on her face was cold.
“I want to kill whoever did this.”
“The guy who did it was on that bus. He’s just ash. Stop worrying about him. He’s over.”
“I’m not talking about him and you know it.”
“Killing someone is not as simple as it sounds.”
“It would be for me.”
“You kill someone you leave a piece of you with them.”
“That sounds like a line from some stupid movie.”
“It may sound like it, but that’s exactly how you feel.”
“You know a lot about that?”
“What do you think?” he said stiffly.
She glanced away and rubbed her hands nervously together.
She said, “Could it be that this Wind guy told something to the Broomes, who told something to my parents?”
“Yes, it could. In fact, that’s my most promising line of investigation.”
“And you’re doing this part with super agent Vance?”
Robie didn’t answer her.
“So you’
re not working with her on this?”
“I’m working with her on part of this.”
“Okay, I get that.”
“Do you?” Robie asked.
“I want to be part of it too.”
“You are. You’ve been helping me.”
“But I want to help more.”
“You mean you want to find the people responsible and kill them?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
“Maybe. But you have to think it through.”
“Will you help me kill them? I know you can.”
“You need to go back to bed,” he said quietly.
“The kid gets in the way, right? That’s what you’re figuring, isn’t it? Put me in that box?”
“I’m not going to be a part of putting you in any box, least of all a coffin.”
Julie visibly stiffened at this comment.
He said slowly, “What you have to get is that this is not a game, Julie. It’s not a movie, TV show, or PlayStation crap. You want to kill them. Fine, I get that. It’s natural. But you’re not a killer. You hate them, but you won’t be able to kill them when it comes to it. But keep one thing in mind.”
“What’s that?” she asked in a strained voice.
“They want you dead. And when they get the chance, they won’t hesitate for a second. You’ll be dead. And there’s no reset button to hit.”
“What if I told you I don’t care?”
“I’d say you’re young and think you’re immortal.”
“I know I’m going to die one day. The only question is when and how.”
“And the answers should be eight decades from now and peacefully in your sleep.”
“That’s not how life works. At least not my life.”
“It’s not smart to be thinking that way.”
“Look who’s talking. You don’t exactly lead a cautious life.”
“My choice.”
“That’s my point. It is a choice. My choice.”
She got up and walked back to her room.
Robie just sat there, staring at the spot where she’d been.
CHAPTER
54
IT WAS TWO A.M. and Robie had been asleep for exactly one hour and then his eyes opened. He knew from long experience that it was useless to just lie there. He got up, padded into the living room of his home away from home, and went over to the window. D.C. was asleep now, at least the ordinary citizens of the city. However, there was a vast world here that never slept. They were highly trained, highly motivated people who rose to the occasion during the nighttime to keep their fellow citizens safe from harm.
Robie knew this because he happened to be one of those folks. It was not always so. He’d grown into the job over the years. That did not mean he liked it.
He put his eye to the telescope. The building across the street came into tight focus. He maneuvered the scope up to his floor. There were no lights on except for one.
Annie Lambert was on the move. Robie watched as she walked from her bedroom to the kitchen. She was dressed in black tights and a football jersey that came down to her mid-thighs. A New England Patriots jersey, he noted. That would not be too popular in D.C., where the Redskins were the favorite NFL team. But she was from Connecticut and the woman was in the privacy of her own home.
Some privacy, he thought guiltily. But he continued to watch.
She pulled out a book from a shelf against the wall, sat down, and opened it. She read and spooned yogurt into her mouth.
He was not the only one tonight with insomnia.
He felt embarrassed to be watching her again. He told himself it was for professional reasons. But that wasn’t true.
He pulled out the business card she had given him. Before he could reconsider his decision he called her cell phone. He watched through the telescope as she put the book down, reached over, and snagged her phone off a table.
“Hello?”
“It’s Will.”
He watched as she sat up straighter and put the spoon down. “Hey, how are you doing?”
“Can’t sleep. Hope I didn’t wake you.”
“I wasn’t asleep. I’m just sitting here eating yogurt.”
“Fast metabolism? Cheeseburger’s already worn off?”
“Something like that.”
Robie paused and gazed at her through the scope. She was twisting one strand of hair with her finger, her feet curled up under her. He felt his palms moisten and his throat get crusty. He felt like he was back in high school about to talk with the girl he had a crush on.
He said, “You know, there’s a nice view from the top of our building. Ever been up there?”
“I didn’t think you could get up there. Isn’t it locked or something?”
“No problems with locks if you have a key.”
“You have a key?” she asked. Her voice was tinged with the girlish glee of having been told a cool secret.
“How about I meet you at the stairwell in ten minutes?”
“Really? You’re serious?”
“I don’t call people at two a.m. unless I’m serious.”
“You’re on.”
She clicked off and Robie watched in amusement as she leapt up and raced down the hall, presumably to change her clothes.
Nine minutes later he was standing at the entrance to the stairwell when she hurried up to him.
She had changed into a knee-length skirt and blouse and sandals. She had brought a sweater too, because it was a little chilly outside.
She said, “Reporting for duty, sir.”
“Let’s do it,” replied Robie.