David Baldacci - The Innocent

And then he had Julie Getty. Parents murdered and the crime scene policed. Killer on the bus to finish the job. Bus blows up. Robie’s gun was found at the scene, which made the Feds believe the cases were connected. And the guy who’d attacked them in the alley had disappeared. The Broomes’ apartment had been scrubbed too, and Robie didn’t know where they were. Or if they were still alive.

He glanced at the salon and saw through the window that Julie was getting ready to leave. If he were a betting man he would wager that Ida Broome had not been in there.

He met her at the car and they both climbed in.

“Talk to me,” he said.

Julie spent a few minutes filling him in.

“So we still don’t know what Leo does,” said Robie.

“Can’t you find that out on some government database?”

“Probably. I’ll check it out.”

“The Broomes are most likely dead,” she said.

“Or they could be in hiding,” said Robie. “That would be best case.”

“If Mr. Broome has some important job in the government do you think he’s the reason for all this?”

“It’s certainly a possibility.”

“But why would that involve my parents?”

“They were friends. They met for meals. He might have let something slip.”

“Great,” she said, her voice catching slightly. “My parents might have been killed because they had a meatloaf dinner with the guy?”

“Stranger things have happened.”

“What now?” she asked.

“I drop you back off. I have to get going.”

“Right. To see special super agent Vance.”

“Just Special Agent Vance.”

“But she was super, wasn’t she?”

“You won’t let it rest, will you?”

“Does this mean I go back to the apartment and die of boredom?”

“Don’t you have homework to do?”

“Going from investigating murder to doing calculus, wow.”

“You’re only fourteen and you’re already doing calculus?”

“G and T, Will, like I said. I actually don’t like math very much. But I’m good at it.”

“Education is the key to success.”

“You sound like somebody’s grandfather.”

“You disagree?”

“I’m just taking it one day at a time.”

“Not a bad philosophy.”

“My classmates’ parents have their whole lives planned out for them. Top colleges. Top graduate programs. Wall Street, medical school, law firms. The next Steve Jobs, the next Warren Buffett. Makes me want to gag.”

“Nothing wrong with getting ahead.”

“You mean there’s nothing wrong with making as much money as possible at the expense of everyone else? The planet has over seven billion people and too many of them live in poverty. Me coming up with an algorithm to make a fortune on Wall Street and tank the economy in the process, which in turn creates a lot more poor people, doesn’t exactly rock my career boat.”

“Then do something else. Something that helps people.”

She gave him a sideways look. “You mean like you?”

He glanced away.

No, not like me, he thought.

After dropping Julie off, Robie navigated traffic until he arrived at Donnelly’s about twenty-five minutes later. The bodies were gone but the street was filled with police cars, forensics vans, and Bureau sedans. Smack in the middle of the sidewalk was a mobile FBI command post that had probably been dropped off last night.

On the other side of the wooden police barriers was an army of reporters. Media trucks with communication masts raised to the sky lined the street behind the jostling journalists. Robie flashed his creds and was passed through the barriers as the reporters with deadlines and a never-ending news cycle to service screamed questions at him.

Vance met him out front. She seemed hassled and harried. As he looked around at the chaos of the First Amendment slamming head-on into the right of the government to solve the murders of several of its citizens, Robie could hardly blame her.

“Got everything under control?” he asked.

“Don’t make me shoot you.”

He followed her into Donnelly’s, where federal techs and FBI agents in dark blue windbreakers were working the crime scene hard. Evidence markers were placed throughout denoting the position of victims. Colored pieces of plastic with numbers on them, they seemed grossly inadequate to symbolize the death or wounding of a human being.

“What’s the latest?” Robie asked.

“Two more of the victims died last night at the hospital,” she said grimly. “That makes the total count six. And chances are we might lose more.”

“You said DHS and MPD were hassling you?”

“That’s quieted down now actually. They pulled up their tents and went home.”

“Good to know.”

She glanced sharply at him. “Did you have anything to do with that?”

He held up his hands. “I don’t have that kind of pull. If the FBI can’t move the mountain, don’t expect little DCIS to do it.”

“Right,” she said, looking unconvinced.

“Any clues?”

“Black SUV was found abandoned about a mile from here. It had bullet pocks on it. You were right, it was heavily armored.”

“Who was the owner?”

“The U.S. government.”

So I was right, thought Robie. And Blue Man was wrong. This did not make him feel any better. In fact, it made him feel worse.

“Which part?”

“Secret Service.”

Robie stared blankly at her.

“It went missing from one of their motor pools.”

“How? Those places are monitored twenty-four/seven.”

“We’re running that down now.”

“That is not good if they have someone on the inside. They protect the president.”

“Thanks, Robie. I wasn’t aware of that,” she snapped.

“What does the Secret Service say?” he asked, ignoring her tone.

“They’re concerned. And they’ve tightened up security even more.”

“Anything else?”

“MP-5 casings all over the street. Hope we find a gun we can match them to.”

“No one saw anything? No faces?”

“We’ve been canvassing the area all night and day. Nothing so far.”

“Are we sure we were the targets? Not someone else in the restaurant or on the street?”

“We’re not sure about that. We’re profiling all victims and all persons who were in the restaurant last night. Maybe we get lucky and one of them provides a motive for this level of carnage.”

“But if we were the target?” said Robie. He thought, If I was the target.

Vance shook her head. “Why would they waste time taking us out? Just because we were investigating the bus blowing up or Jane Wind’s murder? They kill us, other investigators take our place, and the case goes on. And like you said before, killing Feds brings a lot of extra grief. I just don’t see it.”

“Latest on Rick Wind?”

“They’re doing the posts today. I asked for a rush on the results.”

“The bus?”

“Just going through the bodies-or body parts, rather-will take a long time. We’re transporting the remains to an FBI evidence facility. We’ll comb it to see if we can find what caused the blast. We’ve called in ATF to assist. Those guys are the best. They can usually find the detonation source. But it’ll take time.”

Robie cleared his throat and asked the question that had been hammering in his gut for too long now. “Any surveillance cameras in the area? They might show what happened. Give your guys a shortcut.”

“There were some. We’re collecting those now. Don’t know what they’ll show, but they might give us something to go on.”

“Where are you collecting them?” he asked.

“The mobile command post outside. We should have them all there later today or tonight. We wanted to make sure we were thorough in gathering them all. One I know is from an ATM, and another was posted on the corner of a building, but its sight line might be obstructed. And I’ve been told there are others.”