Brian Freeman - Marathon

“Okay, yeah. You’re right, that’s possible. Or maybe the killer didn’t want us to make a connection to the store, because that would have given us a connection to the marathon bombing.”

“You’re convinced Eagle’s murder is related to the bombing?”

“I am. The timing is too coincidental to think anything else. Eagle was inside the Duluth Outdoor Company shop creating a scene just days before the bomb went off at the marathon. Then Eagle turns up with a bullet in his head. Whoever did this was tying up loose ends.”

Stride nodded. This time, the coincidences went too far. He thought Serena was right.

“Where’s Cat?” he asked.

“Outside. She’s pretty shaken up.”

The two of them made their way to the ground floor of the complex. Outside, spitting rain tapped on the green grass. The yellow brick building loomed above them. Stride could see Cat standing against a tree fifty yards away. Her arms were folded, and she stared at the sky.

“So what was Eagle really doing at the shop last week?” Stride asked Serena.

“I have a theory,” she said, “but you and the FBI aren’t going to like it.”

“What is it?”

“Durkin thinks Eagle was at the store to cause a diversion. Throw a fit, and distract the staff. She thought it was part of a burglary scheme, and, yeah, okay, she might be right. But I just don’t believe anybody killed Eagle over a pair of boots.”

“Then why the diversion?” Stride asked.

“That’s when the guy planted the bomb,” Serena said.

Stride stared at her. “You think the bomb was sitting on the floor of the store for days, and no one noticed it?”

“Not on the floor,” Serena said. “He could have slipped it into the front display window. It could have been sitting there with a dozen other backpacks, and no one would have paid any attention to it. But to do that, he needed a few seconds with the staff distracted. Eagle gave him those few seconds.”

Stride shook his head. “You’re convinced of this?”

“I may be crazy, Jonny, but I think we’ve all been on the wrong track from the beginning. The bomb was already in the store long before the marathon.”

“That’s a big risk for this guy to take,” Stride said. “The thing could have gone off at any time.”

“Yes, but he also didn’t have to get the bomb into the store on marathon day, when we have Canal Park flooded with security. All he had to do was set it off remotely. For all we know, the bomber wasn’t even at the marathon. He could have dialed a phone number to trigger it.”

“If you’re right, the suspect pool just got a lot bigger,” Stride said.

“It also means we don’t have any real reason to suspect Khan Rashid of anything,” Serena added.

“Except Dennis Kenzie’s murder.”

“I know. I’m not necessarily saying he’s innocent. But whether Rashid had a backpack or not doesn’t mean a thing if the bomb was in the store before the marathon even started.”

Stride tried to rewire his thinking. He’d spent three days looking at the bombing one way, and suddenly, he had to go back and start over. If Serena was right, the whole investigation needed to start over. They’d been looking for a needle in the wrong haystack.

“How do we find Eagle’s partner?” he asked her. “Eagle was part of the homeless population, but there’s no way someone from that community had the resources or know-how to build this bomb. So how did the bomber even cross paths with Eagle?”

“I don’t know,” Serena admitted. “Cat says Eagle hung out all over town, so they could have bumped into each other anywhere. However, if my theory is right, they were both in Canal Park a week ago. Eagle went into the Duluth Outdoor Company shop on Tuesday evening, and so did the bomber. Our guy was there . And the marathon people keep a high-def camera on the roof of their building that takes pictures up and down the street. Maybe they caught him on the camera feed that evening.”

“Okay, except that camera’s visible from the street. Everybody knows it’s there. Why wouldn’t he use the back entrance to the shop? Why take the risk of coming in on the Canal Park side? There are no cameras in the alley.”

Serena nodded. “True, but I’m betting he used the front door, anyway.”

“Why?”

“If I’m carrying a fifty-pound bomb on my shoulder, I don’t want to walk all the way across the store with it and hang out where the staff can see me. I want to stand outside the shop until Eagle does his thing. Then I slip in, plant it, and slip out. Twenty or thirty seconds max.”

Stride put himself in the mind of the bomber.

The less time inside the store, the better.

“Okay, go check it out,” he told Serena. “I’ll talk to Durkin, and you talk to the marathon people. Let’s see who showed up on their camera on Tuesday night.”

As she headed back to her Mustang, Serena stopped to check on Cat. The girl leaned against a tree and chewed her fingernails, and her face was streaked with tears. Serena didn’t say anything. She simply walked up to Cat and put her arms around her and held her tightly.

“You okay?” she asked.

“I feel like that kid in The Sixth Sense ,” Cat murmured.

“What do you mean?”

“Everywhere I go, I see dead people.”

Serena smiled. If Cat could joke about it, even a little, that was a good thing. “Yeah, I get it. You’ve seen more than your share.”

“I don’t know how you and Stride deal with it, you know?”

“It doesn’t get easier, the more you see it,” Serena told her.

“Do you have any idea who killed Eagle?”

“Not yet.”

“He was a good guy,” Cat said. “He had problems, but he was okay.”

“I know.” Serena hesitated, and then she went on, “I wish you’d called me rather than going in there yourself. This isn’t a safe place. It’s private property, too, and you shouldn’t be trespassing.”

“I’ve been here before.”

“Maybe so, but we’re in the middle of a dangerous situation. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Serena didn’t want to chide her, but she worried that the girl’s impulsive behavior would catch up with her sooner or later.

“I also want to know why Curt called you, not me,” Serena added.

The girl’s eyes shifted to her feet. “You know Curt.”

“Yes, I do. That’s what worries me. What did he want from you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what did Curt want you to do for him in exchange for information about Eagle?”

Cat shrugged. “Nothing.”

Serena took the girl’s chin and lifted it up until their eyes met. “Hey. This is me. Don’t lie.”

“He wants me to go to a party tonight with some rich guys over on Congdon,” Cat said. “It’s a lot of money.”

“Curt’s paying you to show up at a party?” Serena asked.

“Not to do anything. Not for sex or crap like that. Just to look pretty and hang out.”

A private party. For money. Cat talked about it like it was no big deal. Serena took a deep breath and tried not to scream at her. She realized that this was a Mom thing, and she still wasn’t used to being a Mom. She could tell the girl not to go and hope she obeyed, but Cat typically didn’t follow orders. If you told her what to do, she did the opposite.

Serena decided to try something different. Mom to daughter.

She would trust her.

“Okay, you can go or not go,” Serena said. “This is your call.”

The girl stared at her. It was the last thing she’d expected Serena to say. “What? What do you mean?”

“You decide for yourself.”

“Come on, I know you don’t want me to go,” Cat said.