Allison Brennan - Sudden Death

“Maybe she drugged him,” Hans suggested. “Or used a towel or cloth to touch anything.”

“Regardless, she didn’t leave prints, but there is blood on the back of this chair, and a few droplets of blood that has me thinking she stood in the sand, took off the heels, and carried them with her. We’re scouring the garbage cans and beach between here and the pier, and so far nothing. No shoes, no knife, no evidence.”

Holden came out to the patio. “The bartender who served Hackett and the woman last night is here.”

“Let’s talk to him,” Hans said. “Do you have a sketch artist available?”

“Already on site,” Holden said. “We also have a witness. He sounds legit, swears that he saw Rosemont at a diner outside Blythe yesterday morning. He and his family are in San Luis Obispo and I was going to send an officer up there for a formal statement, but maybe one of you would like to go?”

“Agent Elliott will accompany your officer,” Hans said.

Before Megan could protest, Holden said, “Terrific. I’ll call Officer Dodge and have her swing by and pick you up. It’s only an hour and a half away. You’ll be back before dinner.”

Jack couldn’t find Megan anywhere in the hotel. He was about to try her cell phone again when he saw Hans Vigo walk into the main lobby with the same plain-clothes cop who had picked Hans and Megan up at the airport earlier that morning.

“Where’s Megan?” Jack asked as Hans approached.

Jack had been worried about Megan, unable to reach her, her cell phone busy or going directly to voice mail.

Hans Vigo looked at Jack oddly, then walked past him and said, “She’s on her way to interview a potential witness.”

“Witness? Who?”

“A family. They saw Rosemont in a diner only a few miles from where the Hoffmans were killed. They said a woman was with him. It’s a solid lead, so I sent her to follow it.”

Jack glanced at Holden. He didn’t need to say anything, but the cop understood and excused himself with a vague comment about checking on the canvass for witnesses.

“Where did she go?” Jack asked.

“San Luis Obispo. It’s an hour or two north.”

“On her own?”

“With an SBPD uniformed officer. What’s the problem, Jack? I didn’t realize I had to clear my orders with you.”

The tension wasn’t lost on Jack. “What does that mean, Vigo?”

“I don’t have to explain myself.”

“Right. Because you’re the senior agent.”

The federal agent’s face hardened. “What do you care? Your friend’s killer is dead. You can go back to Hidalgo and fight somebody else’s wars for them. I’m sure you’re in demand.”

“And I don’t have to explain myself to you.” Why hadn’t Megan called him? Jack pushed the thought aside. She was doing her job. He’d have liked to have known she was leaving town for the day, but she’d be back in a few hours. Still, Hans Vigo’s animosity was palatable. What was his problem? Did he know that Jack had slept with Megan? Was it possible that this agent, who was almost old enough to be Megan’s father, was jealous? Or was it something else? Jack didn’t know Vigo well enough to decide, though Megan had said he’d been acting unlike himself recently.

“You can wait for her in-”

“No,” Jack interrupted. “There’s still a killer on the loose. What’s going on with the search for Rosemont’s partner?”

“You’re not a cop, Jack.”

“You can’t just use me when it’s convenient.” Jack turned to leave, not wanting any more of a confrontation. He would keep trying Megan, to confirm she was safe, then he’d follow up with Padre and see what was taking him so long with the police artist. They needed something to go on, and right now Jack hated not having anything to do. The waiting would kill him.

Vigo asked quietly, “What’s your interest in Agent Elliott, Jack?”

Slowly, Jack faced Vigo and assessed him. He couldn’t tell if the question was because Vigo was jealous or protective. Or both.

He simply said, “I like her.”

Vigo relaxed and nodded. “I’m about to interview the bartender who served Hackett and the woman. You can join me if you like.”

Megan got the call from the Orlando field office ten minutes before reaching the San Luis Obispo city limits.

“Agent Elliott, this is ASAC Todd Zarian. Assistant Director Stockton asked me to contact you regarding the Ken Russo homicide.”

“Thank you. Stockton explained the situation?”

“Yes. We spoke to the local detective in charge and he opened up the files to us. I have them here in my office. Looks pretty open and shut to me. Guy comes home and surprises a burglar.”

“Do you know what was taken?”

“Nothing big-television and stereo were still there. But according to friends and neighbors, a high-end camera was missing; the guy had receipts for an iPod and some other small electronics that were never found. Possibly money-his wallet was found in a Dumpster several blocks away, no money or credit cards. The cards were used once, two hours after the murder, where the killer withdrew the daily maximum.”

“Any security cameras at those sites?”

“Yeah, but the killer wore a mask and there were no identifying features or clothing. The police note that there was a lock-box in the bedroom that was busted open. It was empty and may have contained cash. We have no way of knowing.”

On the surface, classic signs of a robbery. But Russo was also part of the Delta team targeted by a killer and the same individual who had possession of the George Price dog tags. If those tags weren’t an obvious red flag, Megan wouldn’t even be asking these questions. “Evidence?”

“None that has led anywhere. No prints. No one saw anything suspicious, but this happened between midnight and twelve-thirty. Russo arrived home at twelve-thirty and shortly thereafter gunshots were reported.”

“How many times was he shot?”

“Three. Twice in the chest and once in the head.”

“Three? That sounds like overkill.”

“Maybe the robber didn’t have a mask on when he was in the house. Didn’t want to be identified. It happens a lot. We have the bullets from the autopsy and found three nine-millimeter bullet casings that match, but so far nothing has hit. They’ve been logged into the AFIS database, so if the gun turns up in any other investigation, it’ll pop.”

Zarian continued. “There are a bunch of reports, witness statements that don’t seem to mean much of anything. Neighbor said she saw him leave alone at six while she was walking her dog. Another neighbor-”

“She said alone? Was she prompted?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t do the interview.”

“Is there anything in there about a girlfriend? Wife? Friends?”

“Single, never married. Dated, but I don’t have any names. Maybe he was between relationships. No one identified as a girlfriend was interviewed.”

“Can you contact that witness and ask her if she knew whether Russo dated, and the name of his most recent girlfriend? Anything else she might know about such a person?”

“Sure, but-”

Megan interrupted. “It would probably be easier if I made the call.”

“I’ll send you the name and number.”

Megan wasn’t sure it would lead anywhere, but the recent seduction of General Hackett had her wondering if Rosemont’s partner was truly a woman. At first, she’d been more concerned about the woman’s safety-if Rosemont and his partner were surprised by two people, the UNSUB could have kidnapped General Hackett’s female drinking companion, and possibly dumped her body elsewhere. But then Megan realized that wasn’t possible. The cabin had been rented to Ethan Rose. The woman who brought Hackett to the cabin had been part of the conspiracy to murder. Was it possible that this woman was even colder and more calculating than Barry Rosemont himself?