Twenty-Nine
Burns understood why Chief Jackson in Winter Park finally chose to go forward with a press conference. After all, they had gone more than twelve hours without making an arrest, and the news had already started leaking out through social media channels. But he was still annoyed that Jackson hadn’t sought his input before stepping in front of the TV cameras. If anything, it should’ve been a joint conference. This was an FBI investigation, after all. But Jackson was probably concerned Burns would try to steal the spotlight. He had to admit the old guy was indeed good in front of the cameras. The right blend of warmth, charisma, and authority. Burns hated standing in front of microphones. He thought he always sounded like a lifeless robot.
Burns and his team had just set up shop inside El Paso’s FBI building when they got a call from local police that someone was claiming to have spotted one of their fugitives in a nearby restaurant. Burns thought that was probably too good to be true. With the press conference taking their investigation to the public, he knew they would likely start fielding a lot of random calls about their case. But they still scrambled to get into a black sedan and reached their destination across town ten minutes later. They parked in a large shopping mall lot in front of a Red Lobster restaurant. Six El Paso police vehicles were already on-site, red and blue lights flashing, cops everywhere.
“It’s the van, boss,” Davis said alertly, looking over to his left.
Burns perked up when he noticed two police vehicles parked directly behind a white van with Gunderson Family Plumbers branded on the side. Three uniformed officers stood directly outside the van with their weapons drawn, ready for action. Burns spotted several more officers circling the exterior of the restaurant. This all looked very promising. Burns and Davis jumped out of the sedan and hurried over toward the van. He flashed his FBI badge at the first officer he encountered. The rain was coming down harder, and he could hear thunder cracking in the distance. He flipped up the collar on his dark-blue FBI jacket to try to keep the water from running down his neck.
“What do we got?” he asked, his eyes bouncing everywhere.
“Bartender called and claimed Lisa Shipley was in the restaurant. When we got here, we found this van that matches the description in your APB.”
“Have you apprehended Lisa Shipley?”
He shook his head. “No, we’re actively looking. Bartender said she left the restaurant right before he placed the call to us. The hostess said Lisa Shipley was looking for a fourteen-year-old girl who matched the photo of Jade Shipley. We’ve got everyone locked down inside that building. And we’ve begun to expand to the parking lot.”
“What about Cole Shipley?”
“No reports on him yet.”
“Anyone inside the van?”
“Not that we can tell. But we’ve been waiting on you to access it, as instructed.”
“Good. Let’s do it.”
Burns and Davis quickly approached the van and pulled out their weapons. The two police officers who already had their weapons ready joined them. If Cole Shipley was inside, Burns knew they needed to be ready to defend themselves. Cole had already proved he was willing to kill to escape. But something told Burns no one was inside the vehicle. That would be too easy. And nothing had been easy in his pursuit of the Shipleys. Davis put his right hand on the sliding back door and yanked it open. Everyone stiffened, ready to fire. But they saw no faces staring back at them. Davis poked his head fully inside, just to be sure.
“All clear,” he said. “They’re not here.”
Burns holstered his weapon, stuck his head inside the back, and did a quick assessment. Two oversize pink beanbags, several blankets, a couple of large duffel bags, backpacks, a small cooler, and so forth. But no fugitives.
“You think they dumped the vehicle?” Davis asked.
“And leave all of this behind?”
“They could’ve panicked if Lisa thought the bartender recognized her.”
Burns started unzipping bags. “No, they’re still here somewhere.”
“Why do you say that?”
Burns held up a small backpack and showed him the contents of the front pocket. It looked like thousands of dollars of cash. “Even when panicked, you grab this.”
“Right. The mall?”
“Let’s go find out before the police turn it into a three-ring circus.”