Susan Sleeman - Silent Night Standoff

Now he’d do his job and do it well.

He’d only seen the lobby on the truck’s monitors, so he made a quick sweep of the place before stepping inside. Fellow agent Vince Wagner and the FBI’s Evidence Recovery Team were already processing the scene, and a privacy screen had been erected to hide Nicole’s body. The witnesses were no longer cowering on the floor by the counter but were sitting in chairs, chugging water.

Wagner glanced up, his eyes instantly narrowing as he stared at Logan. He’d gotten the same look from most of the Portland agents. Logan understood their frustration. Totally understood it. They weren’t pleased that the FBI had brought him in from another office to head up their investigation.

As far as they knew, he was there to use expertise gained on a similar robbery spree in Chicago, but it was more than that. Much more. His promotion was on the line. If he didn’t succeed, he was on his way back to Chicago. So it was time to make nice with all the players and get this done.

He crossed the room to a forensic tech named Gary who looked like a thirtysomething version of Santa Claus.

Logan gave the guy instructions to gather Skyler’s clothes, then asked for another bag to collect Faith’s clothing at the hospital. “You’ll also find a small amount of the suspect’s blood in the alley to process. I’d like all the results rushed.”

Gary snorted. “You and every other agent in the bureau. You’ll need Inman’s approval for a rush, and, even then, it’ll likely take a week or so. Maybe more with the holidays.”

He was right. The FBI lab had a backlog just like other law enforcement labs. Even with the special agent in charge of the Portland office requesting a rush, it was unlikely that the lab would move a bank robbery above homicides. It would take days for the results.

Logan held out a business card. “Mind giving me a heads-up if you find anything? I hate to wait for a report to circulate through channels when the other suspect is still on the loose.”

“You got it.” Gary pocketed the card in pants that hung below his belly. “I’ll get those bags for you.”

Logan turned to Wagner, who was watching him with tired eyes. He’d tipped his head, catching the overhead light on his bald scalp, and his lips were pursed below a graying mustache.

“Something bothering you?” Logan asked, hoping they could get any resentment out in the open and deal with it.

Wagner shook his head, but he still seemed uncomfortable with Logan’s presence. For now, Logan would respect the guy’s wishes not to talk about it. “I’ve completed a preliminary interview with Deputy Brennan and learned Bonnie and Clyde used the names Marty and Nicole when they thought no one else could hear them. I suspect those are their real names. Let’s get this information to the rest of the team ASAP so they can get started on developing any additional leads.”

“Finally, real names.” Wagner sounded relieved. “Maybe people will stop calling them Bonnie and Clyde like they’re some sort of heroes.”

“I doubt the press will ever let it go. They thrive on the sensationalism the names garner,” Logan said, then changed gears. “I’d like you to handle the scene while I transport Deputy Brennan to the hospital to check for a concussion. I’ll finish my interview on the way.” Logan didn’t wait for Wagner’s agreement but glanced at the privacy screen. “Is anyone from the medical examiner’s office here yet?”

“No.”

“When they arrive, make sure the body’s printed and swabbed for DNA.”

“And hope she has a record so we finally have a last name?”

“Exactly,” Logan said, heading for the screen. “I’ll take a quick look—then I’m out of here.”

He stepped behind it and heard Wagner stop a few feet away. At the sight of the body, Logan swallowed hard. He didn’t often deal with death in his job. He spent far more time pushing paper than anything, but Nicole wasn’t the first shooting victim he’d seen. Sadly, she wouldn’t be the last.

He squatted next to her. Not wanting to contaminate the evidence, he resisted touching her, but he did notice an odd distortion to her face.

“Check this out.” He changed angles for a better view. “See the way her nose and chin have shifted?”

Wagner bent down. “Looks fake.”

“Probably a prosthetic. Like you’d see in movie special effects. Maybe Marty or Nicole was a makeup artist. Would explain how they changed their appearance and why no one’s been able to ID them.”

“That would make sense since the first robbery took place in L.A.”

“Make sure the ME takes great care when she removes the prosthetics so she doesn’t damage them. Then get someone in the L.A. office to show them around Hollywood to see if anyone recognizes their work. And see if we can find out where the makeup supplies came from.” Logan stood. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you to check with hospitals and clinics for a male of Marty’s description with a gunshot wound.”

Wagner nodded. “But honestly, the amount of blood you described in the alley suggests a superficial wound at most, and he won’t likely need a doctor.”

Logan decided not to lecture Wagner about following every lead no matter how small. It would only send a bad message that Logan micromanaged his team. That was the last thing he needed when he was trying to gain their cooperation. “Okay, I’m out of here. You have my cell, right?”

“Yes,” Wagner said, appearing relieved Logan was leaving.

He headed for the door, stopping only to grab the evidence bag for Faith’s clothing. He hated leaving the crime scene, but he believed Skyler was the key to cracking this ongoing investigation. As a trained officer, she’d likely noticed things during the robbery she didn’t even know she’d seen. He would do his best to bring the memories to the surface before they had time to fade. Conducting the interview immediately was crucial.

He stepped outside and spotted Skyler sitting on the gurney, her face raised to the sun, the rich red highlights in her hair glinting in the warm rays. She’d replaced her frilly blouse with a faded scrub top, one pigtail stuck inside as if she’d dressed in a hurry. Despite a white bandage circling her head and baggy scrubs, she could still get his heart rate going.

As she lay on the gurney earlier, he’d noticed her wearing the same pair of jeans she’d loved when they were together. Except in the passing of time, she’d sewn colorful patches on them.

Just thinking about her free-spirited attire made him shake his head. The two of them were so different. He was a by-the-rules kind of guy, while she was easygoing, and yet they’d seemed almost perfect together.

Skyler suddenly looked at him. Her eyes communicated everything he knew she must be feeling—fear, anger, frustration.

A strong impulse to pull her into his arms, to shelter her from anything bad that might happen, had him taking a step back.

Don’t go there, man.

She scooted to the edge of the gurney and planted a hand on her hip, a saucy expression on her face as her gaze settled on him. “You gonna stand there and stare at me or give me a ride?”

Right, like even if he wanted to hold her, she’d let him. She didn’t accept help willingly. Outspoken and stubborn a good bit of the time, she stood on her own two feet. He hadn’t forgotten that part of her personality. Not with the earful she’d given him when he’d decided to take the Chicago transfer. That he would never forget.

But he couldn’t let it get in the way. Neither of them could. He needed her help to find the bank robber who would make Logan’s career. And if his suspicions were correct, she needed him to keep her safe when Marty chose to attack.