Chapter 19 #2
It would be great if they could ask him, but Koehler was in the wind.
Security footage from Logan yesterday had him boarding a flight to Doha with fake papers.
The footage showed him alone as did pictures of him in a half dozen other places the past week.
They had no reason to think Shannon was with him.
Hell, it was unclear if he even knew about any of this.
It might have just been Reid trying to earn stars, and when he’d gotten a whiff of it, Koehler bolted on the first flight out to a nonextradition country, escaping the pending charges against him and the idiocy of the flunkies on his payroll.
Wait . . . “Koehler’s payroll,” Nic murmured.
“What’s that?” Jamie asked behind him, pausing his warp speed typing.
Nic rotated, leaning back against the glass. “Can you pull up the payroll for Koehler’s businesses?”
“The legitimate ones, yes. The others, not as quickly.”
But not a no. Nic couldn’t help but chuckle. “Let’s start with the legitimate ones. Cross-check them with the list Becca gave me.”
Jamie nodded, and Nic turned back around, eyes tracking Cam around the room.
From the whispers he’d heard, Cam and Jamie were lucky to be alive after the car chase this afternoon.
He’d been waiting at the station when they’d returned, but there had been so much activity—from booking Reid, to throwing Murphy and Smith, whom Di had apprehended, into temporary holding, to running all manner of traces on Reid’s phones and personal data—that Nic hadn’t gotten a minute alone with him before Reid was ready for questioning.
As much as he’d wanted to kiss and hold Cam in his arms, reassure himself that Cam was in one piece, there was no time to waste.
For Shannon’s sake or Cam’s mother’s.
At last check-in, her condition hadn’t worsened but she hadn’t improved either.
Her not waking up yet was starting to concern the doctors, which in turn was putting Cam even more on edge.
His questions were clipped, his patience thinned, his orders sharpened—more than anyone here was used to from Agent Hard-Ass.
Proving Nic’s point, he smacked the table in front of Reid. “This is a girl’s life on the line, Porter! Who’s holding Shannon?”
“Two hits,” Jamie said, and Nic spun back around.
“Both have records.” Nic moved to stand beside Jamie, who’d pulled up two rap sheets on-screen.
Petty crimes, possession, breaking and entering, except the one on the right for Timothy Harper also had numerous domestic violence charges filed against him by an ex-wife.
“That one.” Nic tapped the right side of the screen. “Now search against—”
“Got it, cross-checking.” Jamie pulled up the list of missing persons on the left side of the screen. Zero matches. “Aside from being in the Boston metro area, nothing,” Jamie said. “No known associates or associations between Harper and any of the missing persons.”
“Look at the dates,” Nic said. “The domestic violence incidences and the missing persons reports line up. A few days apart, each time.”
“Fuck,” Jamie cursed, no doubt seeing it too.
“He can only go so long before he erupts.” And attacked his family, and when that wasn’t enough, a brown-haired, brown-eyed girl. Someone who looked like Erin Byrne, and if those dates matched up . . . “Jesus Christ, Erin was the first.”
Nic yanked out his phone, speed-dialing Lauren.
“Hey, stranger,” she answered. “It’s quiet here without you and Cam. Just Aidan blustering around. And—”
“Lauren,” he cut off her ramble.
Practiced at reading him by now, she snapped to professional attention. “What do you need?”
“Has Becca been transferred out of local lockup yet?”
Rapid-fire typing on the other end of the line. “She’s scheduled to leave in thirty.”
“Transfer me to the warden now.” Nic circled the table and double-tapped the glass. Cam was excusing himself as the warden answered the other end of the line.
“Price, what can I do for you?”
“I need to speak to Rebecca Wright before you transfer her.”
“That’s highly unusual.”
“Two minutes, warden. She’s been instrumental in helping us on a case, and I need to confirm something with her. A girl’s life is on the line here.”
The warden cleared his throat. “All right, just a minute.”
Cam entered, closing the door behind him. “What’ve you got?”
Nic switched the phone to speaker.
“Attorney Price,” Becca said, and Cam’s eyes shot to his, surprised. “You going to save me from gen pop for another few days?”
“Help me save a girl’s life, and I’ll do my best.”
When she didn’t answer right away, Cam interjected. “Becca, it’s Cameron Byrne.”
“Oh-ho, Hot Stuff. Should’ve known this involved you.”
“Becca, you help us out here, and I swear I’ll be the first one to speak on your behalf at your parole hearing.”
“I’m never getting out of here, boys, let’s be honest.”
“But I can try to get you someplace more pleasant,” Nic said.
“Please, Becca,” Cam added.
Only a second of hesitation this time. “What do you need to know?”
Cam sagged with relief, bracing a hand on the table.
“That list you provided has been invaluable. There’s a name on it we’re particularly interested in. Timothy Harper.”
“He’s the reason I left that crew,” she said, making no attempt to disguise the disgust in her voice. “Creepy fucker, always staring and skulking around. He gave me the wiggins.”
Cam leaned more of his weight onto his hand, and Nic gave him a supportive nudge. Harper was their guy; Cam knew it too. The end of all this was rushing up to meet them. But where?
“Do you have any idea as to his whereabouts?” Nic asked.
“No, I only ever saw him on jobs. I’m sorry I don’t know more.”
Nic believed that she was. “No, Becca, this is good. Thank you.”
“I hope you find her, Hot Stuff.”
She handed the phone back to the warden, and Nic negotiated for her to stay a few more days in local lockup.
Maybe by then this would all be over, and he could file the paperwork to move her out of maximum security.
By the time he finished with the warden, Cam had steadied himself and was headed back into the interrogation room.
“Does Timothy Harper have her?”
Reid froze. No squirming, no cute answers, no deflections. Just utterly still.
And ghostly pale.
“Does he have her?” Cam roared.
“I want a deal,” Reid squeaked.
Cam lunged across the table, grabbing Reid by the ragged collar of his T-shirt. “This is a girl’s life, you weaselly fuck!”
There was a traffic jam at the observation room door, Nic and Jamie both trying to rush out at once, but Jamie had the size advantage, which Nic needed right then for Cam’s sake.
He let Jamie out first and followed him into the other room.
Jamie and Matt wrestled Cam off Reid, who looked smug, like he thought he was getting off easy, Nic the smaller of the three men.
He wasn’t so smug once Nic grabbed him by the arm, wrenched it behind him, and slammed him face down against the table.
“I can’t grant you a deal,” Nic growled.
“Then I’m not telling you shit,” Reid said, struggling.
Nic wrenched his arm higher. “If you don’t tell us where to find Harper, I can assure you this.
I’ll make it so you go to Cedar Junction.
Maximum security. Do you know what they do to people who hurt or help hurt little girls in places like that?
And just think, how many people does your boss have up there?
Think he’ll let you live? Will he trust a useless shit like you to keep his mouth shut?
Or will he decide to shut you up permanently? ”
With Cam wrapped up in Jamie’s arms, Matt crouched on the other side of the table, eye-level with Reid. “It’s in your best interest to cooperate, Porter. Where does Harper have Shannon?”
“At his grandparents’ old farmhouse. Out in Lincoln.”