15
I need a bathroom,” Emily said. “Now.”
“Down that hall, second door on the left,” Dawn said. Tears stood in her eyes too.
Emily spun and raced from the call center, hit the hall, then the door to the bathroom. Then the toilet.
She lost her breakfast and a piece of her sanity.
“Emily!”
Brady. “Go away!”
But he was beside her on his knees on the cold tile floor, handing her a bottle of water to rinse her mouth and pushing her hair back away from her wet cheeks. She rinsed and spit and tried unsuccessfully to stem the tears. Finally, he pulled her into his arms. “It’s too much,” she whispered. “I can’t handle this.” The grief welled until she wanted to scream. She’d lost too much. A person wasn’t supposed to suffer so much—and survive with her sanity intact. “I give up.”
“No, you don’t. You can handle this, Emily. You’re strong. You have to be strong.”
“I’m not,” she cried. “I’ve been fooling myself for years now. Tricking myself into thinking I’m strong. But I’m not. I’m not.” Sobs wracked her and her tears soaked his shirt.
He fell silent and just let her cry. It briefly occurred to her that she should care that her ugly crying was covering his white shirt in tears, snot, and black mascara, but she simply didn’t. She was beyond caring about anything except the fact that her best friend, the sister of her heart, was dead and there wasn’t anything she could do to bring her back.
After she’d cried herself into an exhausted numbness, she sat back, shoulders against the stall wall, and wiped her face with the toilet paper Brady pulled from the roll. “She’s gone, isn’t she?” Emily said on a hiccup. “She’s really gone.”
“I don’t know, Emily. I would say it’s probable that she’s dead, but like I said, someone could have taken her just like they did you . . .”
“No. She’s dead. He killed her. She screamed at him and begged him not to.” The sound still echoed in her mind. She sniffed, then blew her nose. He gave her a fresh batch of paper and she tossed the used into the toilet. “What do I do now?”
“We find who has her—or killed her. We find her so we know for sure.”
His words resonated. She let them roll around in her mind even as determination solidified. “Yes,” she said. “That’s what we do. We find her—and them. I want them caught so they can rot in prison.”
Brady lifted her chin. “I have to tell you that I think whoever it is, is the same person who’s trying to kill you.”
She sniffed and swiped the tissue across her cheeks once more. “Probably.”
He stood and helped her to her feet and out of the stall. At the sink, she blew her nose, washed her face, and worked to pull herself together. For Heather. She could do this for Heather. Why, God? I don’t understand!
Brady opened the door for her and she slipped out into the hall while her cry echoed unanswered in her head.
Linc and the director had stepped away from the station, and Dawn was on the phone with someone.
“They’re probably in his office,” Brady said. He led the way and soon they were sitting across from Director Helms.
Emily cleared her throat. “Thank you for letting me come. I’m sorry I was so emotional, but I needed to be here.”
“No apologies necessary,” Director Helms said. “I understand. We all do. And we’re very sorry you had to hear that.”
“Thank you.” She stood. “I’ll just wait for you guys outside.”
“I’m ready,” Brady said. He thanked the director once more and they headed for the door. “Are you okay?”
“No.”
“Yeah. Dumb question.”
“No, it’s not. You’re concerned. I appreciate that.” She drew in a breath. “I’ll be more okay if we find Heather’s body and her parents are able to give her a proper funeral.”
“We’ll find her.”
He slid a hand under her elbow and reached around her to open the door. “Stand back a little and we’ll get you to the truck the same way we got you inside.”
With Linc in front of her and Brady behind her, they started down the steps and to Brady’s truck parked on the curb. He opened the door and the window shattered.
“What the—” Brady shoved her into the passenger seat and slammed the door. “Stay down! Get on the floorboard!”
He dropped to the pavement and rolled under the truck. Linc hollered and dove behind his own truck.
Brady caught sight of the muzzle in the window of the car parked across the street and diagonal to them. He brought his weapon up. Aimed . . .
. . . and a car drove in between him and the shooter.
Three pops sounded from the moving vehicle and it screeched away. Brady rolled out from under the truck and to his feet. He looked inside to find Emily huddled on the floorboard. “You okay?”
“I’m tired of getting shot at!” She glared up at him, eyes spitting fury and fear. But no sign of another wound.
He turned back to see Linc racing to the first shooter’s car and took off after him. They came up on the vehicle with guns raised. Brady placed himself to the side so he could see in the window, yet duck if he needed to. “Police! Show your hands! Hands on the wheel! Now!”
No movement. One person in the driver’s seat.
And leaning against the headrest, empty eyes open and staring at the roof of the Chevy. Brady didn’t need to check the man’s pulse to know he was dead. He lowered his weapon and Linc did the same.
“What just happened?” his brother asked.
“Someone tried to take out Emily, but instead got taken out?”
“I’m confused.”
“Ditto.”
Linc looked over his shoulder. “Help’s on the way. I’m going to let one of the officers secure the scene. Why don’t you check on Emily?”
“Yeah.”
Officers surged onto the scene and Brady knew the deputy coroner or the medical examiner would be there as soon as he could. If it was the ME, he hoped it would be Francisco Zamora. The guy was quirky, but he went the extra mile when it came to helping police solve a case.
Brady jogged back to find Emily climbing out of the truck. He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, face stony, eyes granite. “Fine.”
“I think it’s time you hid out for a while.”
“Hid out?”
“We need to get you someplace safe while we dig into what you and Heather were researching.”
“Where?”
“I’m thinking about that.”
“Brady?” He turned to see Izzy hurrying toward him. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, the guy wasn’t aiming at me.” He introduced Emily. “And this is my sister, Detective Izzy St. John.”
“Marshall,” she reminded him with an amused glance.
“Right. Marshall.” Her being married just didn’t compute with him even though he liked and knew her husband as well as his own brothers.
“Glad to meet you, although the circumstances could be better.”
“A bit,” Emily said.
“Who’s going to get this case?”
“Jordan and I caught it.” Jordan North, Izzy’s partner who was about two years away from retirement and still went after each case like it was his first. “What happened?”
He filled her in while Emily stood silent beside him. It didn’t take long. “I’ll get the security footage and we’ll see if we can get a plate off the second shooter’s car,” Jordan said.
“I want to watch it,” Emily said.
Izzy nodded. “Why don’t you two go inside and get comfortable.”
“I’ll take her statement,” Brady said. “And write mine up too.”
“Perfect. I’ll type them up later and get you to sign them.”
“Statement?” Emily asked. “What am I supposed to say? Someone shot at me and I got pushed into the truck. That’s about it.”
She was approaching the end. The end of her strength, the end of her patience, the end of her endurance. Brady had seen it before. He took her good arm and led her inside to the conference room.
Director Helms brought in soft drinks and bottled water. “Help yourselves. I’ve got chips and fruit in the break room through that door. Legal pads and pens are in the drawer of the credenza.”
“Thanks,” Brady said.
“Absolutely. Let me know if you need anything else. I’m so sorry this happened.”
He left with the promise to check back later, and Emily lowered her forehead to the table and closed her eyes.
“You’re not going to pass out on me, are you?” Brady asked as he grabbed a legal pad and pen.
“No.”
“Good.” She still didn’t lift her head. “Emily?”
She sighed and groaned as she pulled her head up and looked him in the eye. “I have to go see Heather’s parents.”
He rubbed his chin. “I don’t think you should.”
“Come on, Brady . . .”
“We haven’t found her body.”
“Which means what? You think she could be alive?”
With a grimace, he looked away.
“Exactly,” she said. “So after the 911 call, the cops went to the garage and found nothing.”
“Right. Her car was gone and so was she. The cops then went to her apartment and the manager let them in. It was neat and looked fine, according to the report.”
“What happened after that?”
“The officers located her parents and told them about the call and wanted to know if they’d heard from Heather since it had been made. They hadn’t, so the cops went back to her apartment to see if they could find anything to indicate where she might be.”
“But they found nothing. By then, they probably thought she was dead.”
He nodded. “They would have looked for anything that might point them in the direction of her possible killer.”
“Unfortunately. And then the cops went looking for you.”
“But I’d already been taken, right?”
“That seems to be the timeline.”
Emily groaned and rubbed her eyes. “Okay, what about her office? Did they search that?”
“Yes, and talked to her boss and all of her coworkers who were there the night she disappeared.”
She frowned. “And then someone went into her apartment—probably sometime on Thursday after the cops left—and trashed it. And mine as well.”
“That seems to be correct.”
“This stinks.”
“I know.” He cleared his throat. “For now, let me get your statement.” He grabbed a water bottle, opened it, and took a drink.
She spoke in a monotone and frowned as he wrote. But he took the statement word for word. She read over it, signed it, and passed it back to him. “What’s the point?”
“Gotta have it. You never know what might be needed.” He finished his statement while she worked on a bottle of water. “I think I know where you’ll be safe,” he said.
“Where?”
“Another friend with a house on the lake. A different lake.”
“I’m not sure I’m up to any more lake house adventures.”
He offered her a grim smile. “No more adventures. Just some peace and quiet.”
The door opened and Linc stepped inside.
“What’s happening out there?” Brady asked.
“I got a picture of the dead guy.” Linc took a seat at the table and turned his phone so they could see the screen. Emily leaned in and Brady got a whiff of his sister’s shampoo.
“You recognize him?” Linc asked.
She blinked and looked up. “Yes. I do.”
Brady and Linc exchanged a hopeful look. “Who?” Brady asked.
“That’s the guy who made the late-night, early-morning deposits. The one Heather followed. His name is Martin Burnett.”
“Wait a minute,” Brady said. “That call I got just before Mason came to get us was from the lab. Officer Schaffer gave them my number to call along with his when they got the DNA back from the lake house. The ski mask specifically.”
“That was fast,” Linc said. “Impressive for not being a Bureau lab.”
“You’re a funny guy. Credit goes to updated technology and a technician who owes me a few favors. That helped speed things along.”
“And?” Emily asked.
“It matched up to a Martin Burnett.”
“Wow,” Emily said. “So he and Owen Parker were working together that night.”
“Yes. I’m guessing when Parker failed to get rid of you, Burnett took over. Speaking of the Lady Marie. They haven’t found the boat matching the description you gave and Parker’s not saying what he did with it.”
“It could be anywhere,” Linc said. “Hidden away in a boathouse or someone’s garage at this point.”
Brady nodded. “I think that’s going to be a dead end, but let’s search for it anyway. All boats are registered somewhere.”
“Do you know how many Lady Maries there probably are?” Linc asked. He shrugged. “But, I’ll put a call in and get Annie to find out everything she can about Burnett and his known associates. And the boat. As soon as she lets me know, I’ll pass the information on to you.”
Brady smirked. “This isn’t your case, remember? You’re on vacation.”
“Someone shot at my brother and his friend.” He scowled. “I’m going to do what I can to help.”
Izzy stepped inside and shut the door behind her. “We’ve got a partial plate on the vehicle that killed our guy in the other car. We’ll know who he is soon.”
“Well, the dead guy is Martin Burnett,” Brady said. “Emily recognized him from something she was investigating with her job at the bank. Linc’s offered to use his resources to get more info on him.”
Izzy frowned. “No need to bring the Bureau into this. We’ve got it covered.”
“I know, Sis,” Linc said. “I’m not stepping on toes, I promise. Just offering to help out during my days off.”
She frowned, then shrugged. “Fine. If that’s how you want to spend your vacation. As for Martin Burnett, as soon as we find out where he lives, we’ll head over there and see what we can dig up on him—and see if he was working with anyone else.”
“We know he was working with Parker now. At least the two of them are out of the picture.”
Brady turned to Linc. “But Snake Man’s not.”
“No, he’s not.”
“What do you think about Emily hiding out for a few days?” Brady said. “She’s been so busy being on the defensive and reacting to the things that have happened that she hasn’t had a chance to sit down and process. I need to gather information from her and we need to do that in a secure setting. Our house isn’t a great place for that.”
“What about your office at the police station?” Izzy asked.
“My cubicle, you mean?” he asked. She shrugged. “That would work,” he said, “but I’d rather something like a safe house.”
“I agree,” Linc said.
“Look, I’ll be all right,” Emily said. “I’ll go to a motel or something.” She rubbed her eyes and realized it was starting to become a habit. She dropped her hands. “But you’re right. I don’t want to put anyone in danger. I just need to get my things. My laptop and clothes. But . . .”
“But?” Brady asked.
“I want to go back to Heather’s apartment. I keep feeling like I’m missing something. Her apartment was torn to pieces, just like mine. They were looking for something at both places. I want to see if her laptop’s there.”
“Her place was processed as a crime scene after the 911 call,” Brady said softly. “Officers covered it from top to bottom.”
“Did they find her laptop?”
“I don’t know. Let me call and find out.” It didn’t take him long to learn no laptop had been found.
“She may have had it with her and they took it when they attacked her in the parking garage,” Linc said.
“Maybe.”
Brady narrowed his eyes as he rubbed his chin. “Wouldn’t it be more likely that she had it at work? After all, that’s where she was coming from when she was attacked.”
“Sometimes she left it in her desk at work,” Emily said. “If it wasn’t in her apartment and she didn’t have it when she was attacked, then it would be locked in her newsroom desk.”
“Well, there’s no way to know if she had it with her when she left the office,” Linc said.
Emily straightened. “Wait a minute. Yes, there is. We can just ask her boss to check and see if it’s there.” She grabbed her phone and, with a pang, punched the number in without hesitation. It rang, then went to voicemail. She left a message and hung up. “Maybe we’ll hear back from him soon, but in the meantime, while I know the camera in the garage wasn’t working—”
“More like tampered with, but go on,” Brady said.
“I’m willing to bet the cameras in the newspaper building were working just fine. If we could look at those, see when she left and if she was carrying the laptop, then we’d know. She has a shoulder bag that she uses. If she had it over her shoulder when she left, then we’ll know she had the laptop with her.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Linc said. “The officers who responded to the 911 call would have requested the footage as they tried to retrace her steps. If so, it’ll be easy enough for Brady to access.”
Brady was nodding. “We’ll find a safe place for you and I’ll go look.”
“Um. No. I’m going too. I know—knew—Heather way better than anyone else on the planet.” She pursed her lips. “And I know everyone she worked with. If we need to question them, they’ll talk to me.”
“The officers investigating have already talked to them, but I’m guessing they didn’t ask specifically about her laptop.”
Izzy headed for the door. “You guys can figure that out. I’m going back to finding the person who killed Mr. Burnett—and who hired Mr. Burnett to shoot you. Talk to you when we finish processing his place.” She eyed Brady. “Keep me updated, will you?”
“Of course, Detective,” Brady smirked.
She stuck her tongue out at him, then swept out the door. Brady snorted and Linc hid a chuckle behind his hand. “She’s going to get you one day, bro, and you’re not going to see it coming.”
“Oh, I know. But she’s so fun to tease.”
Emily’s gaze bounced between the brothers, fascinated by the exchange.
Brady caught her eye and cleared his throat. “Sorry.”
“For what?”
“For joking around when this is serious. We don’t mean anything by it.”
She tried to offer him a smile but figured it looked more like a grimace. “A little humor is never a bad thing. And you guys took my mind off Heather for a brief moment. It’s all good.” But just saying her friend’s name brought the grief crashing back in on a wave that nearly crushed her.
Brady’s hand covered hers and she gripped his fingers, trying to absorb the strength that he offered. Linc patted her shoulder and slipped out of the room. Emily and Brady sat in silence for a moment until he cleared his throat. “Let me see what I can arrange with the security footage. If we didn’t get that video yet, we’ll get permission from the powers that be at the newspaper office, and David Unger, our department’s IT guy, will have it pulled up and ready to play in no time.”
He stood and she rose to her feet, her body weighted with the heaviness of her sorrow. But she’d do this. For Heather. If she kept reminding herself that she was doing this for Heather, she could keep going instead of giving up and hiding away from it all. Heather had given her life for this story. The least Emily could do was make sure it wasn’t in vain.