David Baldacci - The Innocent

Robie knew all of this and had even attended the opening ceremony for the memorial. But tonight he was only interested in survival.

He spoke quietly into his headset as he eyed the memorial. “You in place?”

Vance’s voice came into his ear. “Roger that.”

“See anyone?”

“No.”

Robie kept moving and kept looking. He had on night-vision goggles, but they couldn’t see what wasn’t there.

“Julie?”

The voice was to his left, near the memorial.

It was a man. Robie tightened the grip on his pistol and spoke into his headset again. “Did you hear that?”

Vance said, “Yes, but I don’t have a visual on the source yet.”

A second later Robie did.

The man stepped clear of the memorial. In the wash of moonlight and with the aid of his special goggles Robie could see that it was indeed Leo Broome. He recognized him from a photo he had seen in the man’s apartment.

Vance’s voice came into his ear. “Is that Broome?”

“Yes, sit tight and cover my back.”

Robie moved forward until he was within ten feet of the other man.

“Mr. Broome?”

The man immediately ducked back behind the memorial.

“Mr. Broome?” Robie said again.

“Where’s Julie?” Broome said.

“We didn’t let her come,” called out Robie. “We thought it might be an ambush.”

“Well, that’s exactly what I’m thinking,” said Broome. “Just so you know, I’ve got a gun and I know how to aim and hit what I’m aiming at.”

Vance spoke up. “Mr. Broome, I’m Special Agent Vance with the FBI. We just want to talk to you.”

“You saying it doesn’t mean you are with the FBI.”

Vance came out into the open and held her weapon up and her shield out. “I am with the FBI, Mr. Broome. We just want to talk. To try and find out what’s going on here.”

“And the other guy?” said Broome. “What about him?”

Robie said, “I know that Julie’s parents are dead, Mr. Broome. I’ve been trying to help her find their killers.”

“Curtis and Sara are dead?”

“So are Rick Wind and his ex-wife. Both murdered.”

Broome appeared around the edge of the memorial. “We’ve got to put a stop to all this.”

“Couldn’t agree with you more,” said Vance. “And with your help maybe we can. But first we need to get you to a safe location. And your wife too.”

“That won’t be happening.”

“Did they get to your wife?” asked Robie.

“Yes. She’s dead.”

Robie said quickly, “Were you with her when it happened?”

“Yes, I barely got out in-”

Robie was running full tilt toward Broome. “Get down, now. Down!”

But he knew he was already too late.

He heard the crack of the shot. Broome whipped around and then fell where he had stood. He hit the dirt hard, twitched once as his heart gave a final pump, and then lay still.

Robie reached him, ducked down, and surveyed the area. The shot had come from the left. He called this out to Vance, who was already on her phone.

Robie realized this had been a setup from the start.

He was never intended to get any information from Leo Broome. They were still just playing him. Giving him a tantalizing piece of gold and then jerking it away when he got too close. Whomever he was confronting knew far more about everything than he did. They had assets on both sides, something he didn’t.

Vance knelt down next to Robie. “Is he dead?”

“Round blew right through his head. He won’t be talking to anyone anymore.”

She let out a long breath and stared down at the dead man. “They’re always one step ahead, it seems.”

“It seems,” said Robie.

“You were telling him to get down before the shot. How did you know?”

“They killed his wife, but he got away? I don’t think so. Same thing happened with Julie. They don’t let people just get away.”

“But what purpose did it serve letting Leo Broome live? He could have told us something.”

“They weren’t going to give him the chance, Vance.”

“So why let him come here at all? If they were following him they could have killed him at any point.”

“This seems to be a game to them.”

“A game! People are dying here, Robie. Some game.”

“Some game,” he replied.

Robie sat in his apartment in the dark.

Vance and a quartet of FBI agents were keeping watch over Julie. He had told the teenager about the Broomes’ murders. She had taken it stoically, hadn’t cried, but apparently just accepted it as a fact of life. Maybe that was worse, thought Robie. It didn’t seem right that a fourteen-year-old should have her emotions so hardened that violent death didn’t shock anymore.

He had come back here because he needed somewhere to go that didn’t involve other people being around. And though he had a room at the extended-stay residence, he had come back here instead. He wasn’t concerned about killers coming for him, at least not yet.

They want me alive, for something. And then they’ll want me dead.

He had strained his mind going back over missions he’d performed in the recent past. It would seem that in his line of work there would be many people who would want revenge against him, too many to plausibly investigate. But he had never failed on a task, and that meant his target always had died. And he had exited successfully each time, which meant that his identity should have remained a secret. But his handler had been turned, which meant that Robie had been exposed to anyone with the ability to pay.

He rose and looked out the window. It was two a.m. There were few cars moving down the street, no people. But then he caught sight of someone and he moved closer to the window for a better look.

Annie Lambert brought her bike to a stop outside the apartment building, got off, and rolled it into the lobby.

When she got off on her floor Robie was waiting for her. She looked surprised to see him, but then apparently noted the pain in his features.

“You okay?” she asked anxiously.

“Had better days. Long one for you, obviously?”

She smiled and struggled with her bag. Robie took it from her, slung it over his shoulder.

“Thanks,” she said. “I messed up today,” she admitted. “Had to work overtime to repair things.”

“What happened?”

“Blew official protocols. I bypassed my direct supervisor to get a question answered because my direct supervisor wasn’t around. Got called on the carpet for it.”

“That doesn’t seem right. In fact it seems fairly petty.”

“Well, when you don’t get paid much to handle important issues, folks stand more firmly on titles and lines of authority than maybe they should.”

“I think you’re being overly generous.”

“Maybe I’m just tired,” she said wearily.

“Here, I’ll help you to your door and you can get some sleep.”

As they walked down the hall she said, “You don’t seem too good either.”

“Like you, a long day.”

“Petty rules too?”

“A little different.”

“Life can suck sometimes,” said Lambert.

“Yes, it can.”

They reached her door. She turned to him. “When I said I was tired, I didn’t mean I needed to go to sleep. Would you like to come in for drink?”

“You sure you’re up for it?”

“We both look like we could use one. Nothing fancy like your wine. I can only afford beer.”

“Okay.”

They went inside. She put her bike away and pointed Robie to the kitchen, where he got out two beers and came back into the living room. He felt guilty that he knew the layout of her apartment from looking at it through the telescope.