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Joe Dunbar was sitting on the roof of the Parker house when Stan Warren found him. It was warm enough out here. Overcast, but no rain, no wind. Just gray. It was Stan’s first winter in Seattle, and he had heard the gray got to people — more than the rain even. So far, it had a been a dry fall, and he heard people worrying about that. It was October. It was supposed to be wet. Stan didn’t understand why they didn’t just count their blessings. But then, he supposed all this lush greenery required wet days, not dry fall weather.
“How did you get up here?” Stan asked as he settled in next to Joe. You really could see in all directions. As long as you trusted the people to have the gate at your back — and didn’t get distracted by what was going on there — you were impregnable. Which is why Mac had staged a protest and media event at the gate when he needed to get inside it three years ago. Distraction.
Joe shrugged. “Slowly,” he said. “But then, what else do I have to do?”
“Think?” Stan asked. “I keep thinking you’re the one with the knowledge of what was going on in the SPD. We can’t ask Nick, not yet.” He refused to consider that it might be not ever. “So what could be such a big deal they’d go to this extreme to get Nick Rodriguez?”
Joe shook his head. “I honestly don’t know,” he admitted. “Whatever Nick was into, he wasn’t sharing. Not with me. Not with Anna either, because I asked.”
So had Stan. Anna said he’d been quiet, brooding about something, but he hadn’t shared what was bugging him. “Mac seems to think the union is involved, although he doesn’t seem to know why,” Stan said. He’d trust Mac’s gut though.
Joe considered that. He was sitting in a chair that was low to the ground, his crutches leaning on the balustrade beside him. He had one of Mac’s rifles across his lap. Mac had an extreme gun fetish, Stan admitted. But then again, no one expected Mac to be normal.
“Mac asked about the situation with Army of God,” Joe said slowly. “About the guy that got fired for letting Nick’s material witness go — who took those women hostage later in the evening. If he’s challenging that dismissal, the union would represent him.”
“Hard to see how that warrants all this — even if Nick was going to testify in that case,” Stan said. “I assume he would.”
“Nick and Mac both believe the connections within the department went beyond that one man,” Joe Dunbar said. “I wasn’t involved in that — and Nick was playing way outside his sandbox on that one. He took some heat for it too. He said it went down too fast for him to get it to the right people, but I think he wasn’t sure the anti-terrorism task force would see it as a terrorist act. It was one of those things that could easily fall between the turf divisions within SPD.”
Stan considered that. “So, who would have been the proper jurisdiction over rumors that Army of God was planning to attack Planned Parenthood clinics?”
Joe thought about that. And the very fact he had to think about it that long pointed to a more serious problem. Stan had gotten here at the tail end of Rodriguez’s ad hoc task force, but he’d been more focused on rescuing Janet.
And covering Nick’s butt. He’d pushed Mac into making Nick into a public hero. Mac hadn’t liked doing it. He wasn’t really the feature writer type. But he’d done it, because he too could see that the department would hang Nick out to dry for the three clinics that burned. Mac’s story made him the hero that prevented all seven clinics from going up in flames. Stan wondered now how much of the pushback Nick got was over the prevention, not the failure.
“Counterterrorism,” Joe said at last. “But they focus on things like attacks on the ferry system, and they’re obsessed with ISIS or someone coming from outside the country. I think Nick tried to get them involved actually. Nick was pissed because he couldn’t get arson to take it seriously — not until the first clinic went up in flames. Couldn’t get property to take it — nothing had happened yet. So there he is, a homicide detective, running the operation off the books, because no one else would. And being undermined by his own colleagues at every turn.”
“I remember a surveillance team went missing,” Stan said, trying to recall the details. He had been focused on two things: getting to Janet, and staying on top of Mac. Really, they’d been the same thing. If he lost track of Mac he would never have gotten to Janet. That situation made Stan admit how much she mattered to him.
Joe nodded. “Mac was asking me if the chief had made good on his promise to investigate how the department had handled that situation. And to be honest, I haven’t a clue. Which probably means not much was done. It’s been a year. You’d think we would have heard something by now.”
Stan considered that. “Maybe someone did hear something,” he said. “And maybe that’s what set this all in motion.”
Joe chewed his lip. “Take out Nick so he can’t testify? But that could be done with a single shot, Stan. This goes way beyond that.”
Stan nodded. It did. And Joe was right. Why?
He left Joe up on the roof with a promise to send someone up with sandwiches. He walked down to the boathouse where he could talk without being overheard and called his boss. He wasn’t comfortable with the man, not even after three months, although Rand said Noble was all right. It didn’t really matter. He was the Special Agent in Charge of the Seattle field office, and Stan wasn’t stupid enough to take him on. He liked Seattle. He didn’t want a mandated transfer to North Dakota.
“What do you need?” Noble asked with no pleasantries. Stan found it refreshing.
“I think there was an investigation underway into the Army of God response a year ago,” Stan said. “And I think there was going to be a preliminary report released. Any way you can see if you can find out? Maybe get your hands on it?”
“Maybe,” he said. “I’ll call a few people. Everything OK? How’s Nick?”
“Nick’s still in a coma,” Stan answered. “Everything else is fine. Feels like we’re holding our breath.”
“Yeah,” Noble said. “I hate it when they’ve got the initiative — and they’re not using it.”
Stan snorted. Didn’t that sum it up?
“I’ll call you back.”
Stan was restless. Maybe he’d go over to the hospital. Spell the agents there a bit. He went back to the house, grabbed a sandwich from the kitchen, and found Paulina. She had the kids seated around the dining room table working on class assignments. Carolina was on the computer. The others looked to be doing some kind of art projects.
“Anna?” he asked.
“They called her into work,” Paulina said. She frowned. “I didn’t think she should go.”
Their eyes met. Stan nodded; he’d check on her.
He glanced at the numbers Shorty had written on the whiteboard, and plugged Anna’s into his phone. He should stop and plug them all in. Later, he promised himself. He went out to his rental, and sat in it while he called Anna Rodriguez.
“Yes,” she said crisply.
“It’s Stan Warren,” he said. “I’m surprised you went to work. I thought you took leave.”
“I thought I did too,” she said. She didn’t sound happy. “But that was at 8 a.m. At 10 a.m. I got a call. Could I come in today, and start my leave tomorrow? I said yes. But I don’t know why. It’s quiet here. You’d think with all that evidence lying around on the ground in Sand Point we’d have something to do here.”
Stan got that itchy feeling at the back of his neck all good investigators got. Paranoia, coupled with instinct? “Anna?” he said slowly. “Who called you to come in? Someone you know? Know personally?”
She was silent for a moment, and then he heard a muttered curse. “No,” she said. “She said she was a clerk in HR. You think this is a set up?”
Stan tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “When are you due to leave today?”
“By 6 p.m., the clerk said.” Anna sounded worried now. “Stan, the building will be all but empty by then. I didn’t even think.”
“Stay put,” Stan said. “I’ll send someone to get you before then. I’m headed to the hospital to check on security there. And I’ll swing by myself afterwards if I don’t find someone else. Do not leave your office, Anna. Not for any reason! Not until you get a call from me. And you recognize my voice as well as my name. Back up person will be Mac. One of us. You hear me?”
“I hear you,” she said, and her voice was shaky. “Locking my office door, now. Paperwork, there’s always paperwork to do.”
“Good,” Stan approved. He ended the call, nodded at the guard at the gate. The young one. Brian? Brian Winters.
And then he drove over the 520 bridge and dropped down into the hollow where the UW Medical Center was located. He parked; patted his gun in its holster for reassurance. Pulled out his badge and held it in his hand, then took a deep breath and looked around. Nothing out of the ordinary. With one hand resting on his Glock 23 .40 caliber, he got out of the car, beeped it locked, and strode confidently toward the entrance. He flashed his badge, and they waved him around the security gate.
“Glad to see you,” one of the guards said. “They call you?”
Stan raised an eyebrow. “There a problem?” he asked. The guard nodded shortly, and Stan walked faster. Damned hospital was too big, he thought, and too easy to get turned around in. So he went the route he knew, using the elevator, even though he wanted to take the stairs. The elevator doors opened and he started down the hallway. He wasn’t sure who had pulled guard duty today, a guy he didn’t know well. Anders?
A man in a suit had his back to him, arguing with the agent who had positioned himself between the waiting area and the double doors to the ICU. Stan approved. A security guard stood there, looking a bit out of his depth.
“What seems to be the problem, Agent Anders?” Stan said calmly, projecting his authority.
“Special Agent Warren,” the agent responded. “This is Captain Rourke. Lt. Rodriguez reports to him. I was just explaining to him that no one is allowed to see him at this point. Doctors’ orders.”
“I want to see my detective!” the man said, turning to look at Stan Warren.
“You’re a day or two late, aren’t you, Captain?” Stan asked. “Where were you Friday night when the assault took place? Or any time since then?”
“Who do you think you are to be asking me questions?”
“The agent in charge of the investigation into the attack on two police officers, and their neighbors?” Stan said pleasantly. “Why are you just now asking after your man?”
Rourke ran his hand over his head. He took a deep breath and visibly worked to calm down. “I was out of town,” he said finally. “I got back into town this morning, picked up the newspaper, and saw the story. Perhaps you can brief me?”
Stan Warren studied the man. A big man, 50 probably. Short gray hair, blue eyes. “Out of town where?”
“Took my wife to Leavenworth for Oktoberfest,” Rourke said. “And FYI? Don’t go.”
“People in your office knew you were going to be out of town?” Stan pursued.
“Of course, they did,” he said impatiently. Then he stilled. “You think they coordinated the attack for when I was gone?”
Stan shrugged. “At this point, doctors are guardedly optimistic,” he said. “But they have him in a medically induced coma to keep him calm and allow him time to heal. We’ve had some concerns about his safety, and I assumed responsibility for the security aspects of the case. Have you driven by his house?”
Rourke shook his head. “Saw the story on the stands at Starbucks. I guessed he would be here and came in directly,” he said. “I haven’t even been into the office yet.”
A doctor stuck his head through the door. “Agents? Could I see one of you for a moment?” he asked. He was hiding it well, but he was stressed.
Stan looked at Agent Anders. “Could you brief Captain Rourke?” he said. “I’ll see what the doctor needs.”
Stan let the door close behind him before he looked at the doctor. The doctor was already heading down the hall, and Stan lengthened his stride to catch up. “What’s going on?”
“He woke up,” the doctor said. “And he’s very agitated. We can’t get him to quiet down. He’s calling for someone named Mac? I don’t know who that is, but I thought perhaps you might know, or failing that, can get him to relax. He’s going to undo a lot of work if he doesn’t.”
“I know who Mac is,” Stan said grimly. And it didn’t bode well that Nick would come out of a coma calling Mac’s name.
Two orderlies and another doctor were in the room trying to calm him down. “We can’t use any more medication,” his doctor escort murmured.
“Lieutenant Rodriguez,” Stan said authoritatively. “This is Agent Warren, and you’re in a hospital. Everyone is fine. I assure you. Mac has your family under his protection, and everyone is safe.”
The man stilled. “Army of God,” he said.
“You let me worry about that,” Stan said, with a sinking feeling. “You have to obey the doctors and get well or Anna will have my ears. Do you understand?”
Nick just breathed for a bit. The doctors looked at a monitor and nodded. The tension started to dissipate from the medical staff. Stan was still wary though, and he took the chair by the bed. “Nick,” he said quietly. “Army of God? Or the police who looked the other way?”
For a moment he didn’t think Nick heard him, and that was OK. Let the man sink back into a healing sleep. He’d sounded the warning, and that was good enough.
“You did good, man,” he said quietly. “And Anna? She’s amazing. So is your daughter. Trust me? I’ll take care of them.”
Nick nodded once, and then winced. “Not just police. Army of God. And Sensei’s people.” He tried to open his eyes. “Tell Mac that they joined forces.”
Stan sat back. It said a lot that Nick would put his trust in Mac Davis, given all the shit the two of them flipped each other. But that might explain why. The people who came for Nick, would also be looking for Mac.
“I’ll tell him,” Stan said. “But you have to get well. Follow doctor’s orders. Because if I have to keep tabs on Mac while he blows up half the city, I can’t be in here keeping you calm.”
Nick tried to laugh, and then winced. “Tell Anna I love her.”
Stan’s throat tightened. “I will,” he said softly. “I’ll tell her.”
He sat there for a few more moments before looking at the doctor. “OK?” he asked.
The doctor nodded. “Thank you,” he said. “He was going to get up and go out there right now! Not the first time I’ve dealt with law enforcement either.”
“Thank you for saving his life,” Stan said sincerely, because he knew it had been a close thing. This man was alive because of some near-miracle events: a gun-savvy wife, a nurse for a neighbor, and these doctors, who were some of the best in the world.
Stan left quietly, his hand still resting on the handgun in his pocket, as if he was going to force Nick to quiet down at gunpoint? He snorted. He went back through the double doors, and Rourke and Agent Anders were still talking.
“He going to be OK?” Rourke asked.
“He came up out of the coma, and was confused, terrified for his family,” Stan said, lying easily. “I reassured him, and he’s back asleep. A determined Nick Rodriguez can be intimidating, even when you’re some of the best surgeons in the world, I guess.”
Rourke nodded. “I gather seeing him is out of the cards, then,” he said, getting to his feet. “I’ll drive by his house as you suggested and then go into the office. Sounds like I need to kick some butt.”
Rourke paused as if he expected Stan to walk out with him, but Stan just waved him on. He watched until Rourke was in the elevator, and the doors had closed behind him. “Well?” Stan asked Agent Anders.
Anders shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “Something’s off. But I don’t know what exactly.”
Stan nodded. “A bit too coincidental,” he agreed. “I’ve got to go. You did the right thing to keep him out.”
Damn it, that had taken longer than he expected. And he wasn’t as good at Seattle navigation as he could be either. He wanted to get Anna out of her building before noon if he could.
He pulled out his phone. Rand was supposed to be knocking on doors today. It would be interesting to know if Captain Rourke actually did go to the Sand Point neighborhood, and what he did when he got there.
And where was Mac? Nick’s information was worrisome. Stan wondered if he could put a track my phone app on Mac’s phone. Then he wondered if Shorty already had, and grinned.