Terri Reed - Joint Investigation

He and Sami checked in with airport security, presenting their IDs, filling out the necessary paperwork and having their weapons inspected. Once they were cleared, they made their way to the gate, where they filed onto the Cloud Jet airplane with the rest of the passengers.

Drew wouldn’t have guessed so many people would head willingly to one of the hottest places in the summer. He wasn’t looking forward to the heat of Arizona in July.

It had taken some fancy talking on his part to convince his boss the trip was warranted. The deputy commissioner had granted him permission but wanted to be kept apprised of the situation. Not a problem, Drew had assured him. He didn’t want to jeopardize his standing with IBETs.

“That’s us,” Sami said from behind him. “Thirteen A and B.”

He moved past their row of seats so she could step in and have the window seat. She set her suitcase on the floor, then opened the overhead compartment. Before Drew could reach for the suitcase, the man coming in behind her picked up the case and tucked it into the luggage space with quick efficiency.

“There you go,” the man said with a polite smile.

“Thank you,” Sami murmured, and slipped into her seat. Drew nodded his thanks to the stranger, then settled into his seat beside Sami. His knees hit the fold-down table attached to the back of the seat in front of him.

In the cramped space, his shoulder and upper arm bumped against Sami. The little sparks each connection created unnerved him. It was hard to stay professional when she set his blood on fire. He shifted away, but short of sitting in the aisle, there was nowhere to go.

As she fiddled with her seat belt, he took in her appearance. She wore a flowery blouse and light-colored cargo pants. She carried no purse today. Her ID and gun were stashed in the deep pockets of her pants, and the knife she’d used to free herself was hidden away. Most likely in a boot. Big and clunky, they were in stark contrast to the feminine top. Yet the ensemble worked for her. Very Portlandian.

Her blond hair was held back by a barrette at the nape of her slender neck and smelled like his shampoo. He could tell she’d applied a touch of mascara to the black lashes framing her pretty eyes, and her lips shone with gloss.

She looked so different from the woman dressed like a ninja last night. However, both sides of the lady appealed to him, despite his need to stay detached emotionally. She was brave and spunky when she needed to be but didn’t flaunt those traits as if needing to prove her toughness.

He waited until after takeoff to ask, “Tell me how you became involved in this case. You said your friend was a victim?”

Her lips pressed together for a moment. She nodded. “Lisa and I were like sisters. The Westovers lived next door. Seaside isn’t a big community. At least not for those who live there year-round. Our families became close.”

“When was Lisa killed?”

“Six months ago. Her case went cold quickly.” She told him in graphic detail how similar Lisa’s murder was to the crime scene from last night. “Birdman is clever and knows how to not leave behind trace evidence.”

“Except for bird drawings and writing on the wall,” he remarked drily.

“Done without leaving fibers or DNA.”

“How did you connect this Birdman to Lisa’s murder?”

She frowned. “I didn’t at first. I searched for similar crimes in the metro Portland area and came up empty. Then I spread out from there via the FBI’s ViCAP.”

The Violent Criminal Apprehension Program, a searchable database to collect and analyze crime, was the model that the Canadian government followed for their own version, ViCLAS—Violent Crime Linkage System. Both automated systems were invaluable to IBETs and all law enforcement in both countries. “We have something similar.”

She gripped the armrests as the plane bounced through turbulence. “I found comparable crimes across the US but never in the same city. By then my boss realized what I was doing and wasn’t pleased, despite the fact I was investigating on my own time.”

She shrugged. “There wasn’t much he could say, though. He definitely wasn’t okay with me leaving Portland to investigate crimes outside our field office assignments. But I couldn’t stop. I had to know. I had to see if there were any connections to Lisa’s murder.”

“So this trip to Vancouver...?”

“Technically I’m on vacation. The special agent in charge has given me some rope.” Her mouth tipped up at the corners. “Probably enough to hang myself with.”

Not if he could help it. She’d been targeted twice now. She obviously wasn’t safe alone. Not that he saw her as a damsel in distress. Far from it. She’d shown bravery and smarts. And the drive to do what was necessary to stop a criminal. “Your dedication is admirable.”

“Thanks.” She shrugged. “I made a promise to Lisa’s parents that I’d find her killer. I always keep my promises.”

The flight attendant stopped to offer them drinks and the opportunity to purchase a snack from the cart.

They each ordered a drink and a snack plate of fruit, cheese and nuts. While the attendant poured their drinks and handed over their plates, Drew contemplated Sami’s statement.

Did she truly honor her promises? Or were her words just that—words?

Gretchen had made promises to love and honor and cherish him. But she’d broken those promises so easily. Drew was wary of any woman’s promises.

Once the flight attendant had moved on and they’d opened their refreshments, he said, “I don’t know many people who would go to such lengths to pursue justice for their friend.”

“I don’t know many people who would leave their country to help a stranger pursue justice for her friend.”

He mirrored her earlier shrug and collected a small handful of cashews and almonds. “It became my business when we discovered the man we’re going to see is Canadian.”

Not to mention, Drew had decided to take it upon himself to be Sami’s protector. Twice now she could have been killed. Silently he vowed he wasn’t going to let that happen. The woman needed help whether she wanted it or not.

“Promise me you’ll be careful,” she said, her tone intense.

He gave her a half smile. “Careful is my middle name.”

He popped a chunk of cheese and an apple slice into his mouth.

“I’m serious. I have enough to contend with bringing down Birdman. I don’t need you being a hotshot and taking unnecessary chances.”

“Where’s this anxious fretting coming from? I’ll be careful.”

She breathed in and slowly exhaled. “Sorry. I haven’t worked with a partner on this.” She dropped her gaze and concentrated on her food.

“I see.” She was a lone wolf taking down a predator. But not anymore. “Tell me about the bird symbol.”

She visibly collected herself, took a drink of her pop. “When I was digging through the various case files I noticed bagged evidence that was incongruent with the crime scenes. Things that had appeared irrelevant or unimportant at the time. No fingerprints, no DNA showed up, so the clues lay dormant in musty files of cold cases. A playing card here. A postcard there.”

She drummed her fingers on her knee. “At Lisa’s murder scene a business card was found tucked into her handbag. Nothing unusual about that, since she was in sales. Which was why she was staying at the hotel by the airport the night she was killed. She had an early morning flight.” Sami’s voice broke. “I would have driven her in the morning if she’d only asked.”

He covered her hand with his, stilling the nervous drumming. She turned her hand over so their palms met. Her fingers laced through his. He refused to read anything romantic in the gesture. Talking about her friend upset her. He was merely offering the only comfort he could. Holding her hand meant nothing, even if her small hand fit snugly within his as if they were made for each other.