Mariah Stewart - Dead End

“No, no, he and I were going in to the office, he found reports I’ve been looking for, about Dylan’s death, he left them locked in his desk-”

“Dr. McCall, Brendan didn’t have these reports. I do. Believe me when I tell you, he wasn’t going to turn them over to you or to anyone else.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that I believe the report implicates Brendan in Dylan’s death.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid it’s the truth.” He took an envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her as the first of the unmarked cars pulled up in front of the house. “Brendan Shields shot and killed his cousin and fellow agent Dylan Shields. The proof is in that envelope. And if I hadn’t arrived when I did, I’m afraid he would have killed you as well…”

“Isn’t John here yet?” A shaken Annie met Will Fletcher in the office lobby. She’d called him because, with John out of town, Will was the acting supervisory agent in charge.

“Yeah, I called him the minute I heard. He should be back anytime now.” Will put his arm around her. “What do you want to do? Do you want to go upstairs and wait in the office, do you want to get something to eat while we wait for John? What do you want, Annie?”

“Maybe we can just get something cold to drink.”

“When did you last eat?”

“Lunch, I think.”

“It’s almost midnight. Let’s walk across the street and grab a sandwich or some soup or something. You look real shaky.”

“I am real shaky.”

“Did you give a statement to anyone yet?”

“Not a formal one. They’re waiting for John.”

They stepped outside into a muggy D.C. night. Will took her arm to steady her and they walked across the street to the all-night deli on the corner.

“Did you call Evan?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “He wanted to drive down tonight, but I told him to wait. He’s right on the brink of cracking a case he’s been working on for weeks, and I don’t want him to distract himself from that. I’m okay, I wasn’t hurt.”

Will held the door for her and walked into the deli behind her. It was cool and quiet inside, and they went up to the counter to place their orders, then took a booth.

“So, you want to tell me what happened tonight?” Will asked.

“I’m still not sure I understand.” Annie rested her elbows on the cool porcelain tabletop.

“Start from the beginning, maybe we can piece it together.”

“Well, it started with Brendan calling me earlier tonight. He said he found the reports that were missing from Dylan’s file, that he’d left them in the office. He said he was going back to pick them up, but he had a tire that was losing air, so I told him I’d come over and get him.” She stopped to take a sip from the glass of water the counter waitress had brought her. “When I got there, he was on the phone. He didn’t even hear me ring the bell, so I went inside. I could see him back in the kitchen area, and when he saw me he waved, you know, like ‘I’ll be with you in a minute.’ He got off the phone, and we started out of the house. We got as far as the top of the sidewalk when Luther showed up, started to yell at Brendan to drop the gun and let me go, and something about, it was all over, not to hurt me…” She rubbed at her eyes. “The next thing I knew, Luther was shooting at Brendan and Brendan fell…”

“Had you seen a gun in Brendan’s hand?” Will asked quietly.

“Not outside, but then again, I wouldn’t have. He was behind me. I knew that he had one with him, though. I saw him put it in his belt.”

“He needed a gun to go to the office?” Will frowned.

“A lot of agents don’t go anywhere without their Glocks; you know that, Will.”

“True enough.” Will stirred a packet of sugar into his iced tea. “Had you felt threatened, did you know that Brendan had pulled the gun?”

“I had no clue.” She shook her head vehemently. “I had no idea there was anything wrong until Luther showed up and started shouting at Brendan.”

“You said Luther was yelling at Brendan to drop the gun, to not hurt you, to let you go…”

“Right.”

“Did Brendan yell anything back at Luther?”

“It all happened so fast, I don’t…” She rubbed her index finger across her chin, a gesture he’d seen her use when she was deep in thought. “He called him a bastard. ‘Luther, you bastard.’ That’s the only thing I remember hearing him say.”

“That’s an odd thing to say, don’t you think? Under those circumstances?” Will frowned.

“I don’t know. He might have said something else. I was just so stunned, so startled, I was having a hard time figuring out what was going on. Everything happened so fast, Will…”

His phone rang, and he took it from his pocket.

“Fletcher.” He listened for a moment, then said, “I’m with her right now. Sure. No problem.”

He folded over the phone and returned it to his pocket.

“That was John. He’s on his way in from the airport.”

“Does he want me to meet him at his office?”

“No. He wants me to take you home and make sure you get some sleep. He’ll give us a call in the morning.”

She frowned. “You’d think he’d want to talk to me.”

“He does. In the morning. Right now, he wants to talk to Luther Blue.”

Luther sat calmly in the small leather side chair that faced John Mancini’s desk and waited for the interrogation to begin. He’d been there for almost two hours awaiting John’s arrival, in the company of Special Agent Harold Kimble, a man Luther considered to be stupid and without imagination. He might actually enjoy this.

“Okay, Agent Blue,” Mancini was saying as he eased himself into his own well-worn leather chair. “It’s been a long night for all of us, so let’s get to the point. What the hell happened?”

“I shot Agent Shields,” Luther told him. “I killed him.”

“We know that part, Luther,” John said, his face and voice both weary. “Let’s talk about why.”

“He was going to kill Dr. McCall.”

“Why would he want to do that?” John frowned.

“I’m thinking it was because she was-”

“You’re thinking? You don’t know?” Kimble rose half out of his seat.

“Sit down, Harold.” John motioned him back into his chair. “Let him finish.”

“I think it was because she’d been asking about the reports that were missing from the Bureau file of the investigation into Dylan Shields’s death.”

“Why would that have been a concern to Agent Shields? He and Dylan were cousins.”

“I believe it was because the reports would show that Agent Shields-Brendan-fired the shots that killed Dylan.”

“Agent Blue, you understand the seriousness of this accusation?”

“Sir, I understand full well. That’s why when I found the reports-”

“You found the reports?” Mancini’s eyebrows rose in tandem. “All three of them?”

“Yes, sir, Agent Lowery’s report, Agent Raymond’s report, and a memo from Agent Shields. Connor Shields. I found them by accident. I was looking through the McCullum file, and I found the reports in an envelope stuck in the back of the file. I immediately realized these were the missing reports-”

“How did you know about that? How did you know they were missing?”

“Sir”-Luther smiled benignly-“everyone in the unit knew about the missing reports. Dr. McCall had, at one time, asked just about everyone about them, especially the report written by Agent Lowery.”

“Had she asked you?”

“No, not directly, but I heard about it from several people. And then, with Agent Lowery having been found dead so recently, I thought I’d read over her report and see what the big deal was.”