Chapter 29
The white paper bag crinkled in Sam’s hand as he knocked on Dean and Max’s door. He glanced at Audra. She still had a healthy flush to her cheeks from their exercise earlier.
A smirk crossed his face. He intended for her to wear that for the next few decades, at least.
Dean opened the door. “You’re late. We said eight. It’s eight-thirty.”
“We were tired.” Audra breezed inside with her laptop tucked under her arm, lying through her teeth with ease.
Sam bit back a smile, not wanting to contradict the master spy at work. “Sorry. Hit snooze one too many times. And she gets hangry, so we stopped for breakfast.” He lifted the bag. “Don’t worry. We brought you some.”
Audra speared him with a glare. “Whatever. You’re the one who hauled me out of the shower to quell your grumbling tummy.”
His eyes widened a fraction at her words. The quick flare of her nostrils was the only indication she gave that she realized her faux pas.
He quickly moved the conversation along. “I wasn’t about to wait for you to use all the hotel’s hot water before I got to eat.” He crossed to the desk and set the bag down. Opening it, he took out a bear claw and passed it to Max, who sat in the desk chair.
“Thanks.”
“You could have brought us coffee too,” Dean grumbled, accepting a pastry.
“We figured you’d have that in spades,” Sam said. He tipped his head toward the cup next to Max.
“We can always use more,” Dean replied.
“We’ll get it later,” Audra said. “I’m sure we’ll all need it. Can we call Asher now?”
Max opened his laptop without a word and pulled up a video call screen.
“We’re video calling today?” Sam took a third pastry out of the bag and passed it to Audra.
She smiled her thanks and sat on the bed behind Max.
“Yep. Better audio than speakerphone.”
Sam tipped his head. Max had a point.
With the last pastry in the bag in his hand, Sam sat next to Audra. The call connected, and Asher’s face filled the screen. Ford sat next to him.
“Uh-oh,” Dean said. “Boss man’s here. What did you find?”
“Some crazy shit,” Asher said. He sighed. “So, the Powells are on the FBI’s radar and have been for some time. Brooke talked to her friend’s husband. But I need to back up. I ran a correlation search on their names, their business, and criminal activity in the areas where they’ve lived or worked, and I found something… well, interesting. And not in a good way. Do any of you remember the serial killer case in Colorado a few years back? Ryan Marsters?”
“Wasn’t he the guy who went out in dramatic fashion after he kidnapped the local sheriff’s girlfriend?” Max said.
“That’s the one.” Asher nodded. “When I ran the Powells, it turns out they’re from the same area as Marsters. Elko County, Nevada.”
“Brooke also talked to Ben—her friend’s husband?” Ford arched an eyebrow, making sure they understood before he went on.
Dean’s head bobbed once, and Ford continued.
“He put in a call to his former partner and asked him to do a quick search. The brothers are under investigation for drug activity. I guess they got put on the FBI’s radar during their investigation into Marsters. There were some drugs involved in that case somehow. I’m not really clear on that point. But Ben’s partner gave him the name of a guy you can contact for more information. Sebastian Archer. He’s the sheriff of the county where this all went down. He’s a former fed too.”
“I’ll email the info to you guys,” Asher said.
“Okay,” Sam said. “We’ll give him a call.”
“Sounds good. Did you guys come up with anything in Audra’s files?”
Audra scrunched her face, clearly annoyed by their lack of progress. Sam agreed with the sentiment. There was a lot of information to sift through. It all pointed to Brogan being guilty of many things, but nothing about who would have motive to kill her—besides the obvious—or why Theo was involved.
“From what we can tell, most of the case against him comes from what I’ve observed. It’s the people I’ve seen him meet with. Some of their discussions I’ve overheard. The ledger is the best physical evidence we have against him. Have you made any headway into decoding it?”
“Possibly. My program spit out many combinations for the initials from the info I fed it. I need some background on the names and businesses you gave me to get any further. How about while Sam calls that sheriff, Max and Dean can continue to comb through your evidence files and you and I can talk? I think with your insight, we can put together a pretty accurate list.”
“Sure.”
“On that note, I’ll leave you guys to it,” Ford said. “If there’s anything else you need from me, just ask.”
“We will,” Sam said. “Thanks, Ford. And tell Brooke we said thanks.”
“Will do.” He got up and left.
Asher leaned closer to the camera. “You three—scram. The nice English lady and I need to chat.”
Sam rolled his eyes, but moved away from the computer. Max chuckled and Dean gave him a half smile.
“Audra, is it okay if I use your computer while you’re on mine?” Max asked.
She glanced at him and nodded.
“Thanks.” He picked it up from where she’d set it when they came in, then sat down in the corner chair.
Dean grabbed his laptop and stretched out on one of the beds.
“I’m going to make that call outside.” Sam pointed at the door, already moving that way.
Max and Dean acknowledged him. Audra sat down in the desk chair to talk with Asher.
Leaving the room, Sam rode the elevator down to the lobby and went outside. He didn’t want anyone overhearing the conversation—accidentally or not. Once he was well away from the other guests, he took out his phone and opened his email. The message Asher sent was at the top. He clicked on it and scanned it quickly, grinning at the man’s foresight. He’d given him the sheriff’s direct line. He wouldn’t have to convince whoever manned the phones to put him through.
Sam dialed the number. It rang twice before a man picked up, sounding distracted.
“Sheriff Archer.”
“Hi, Sheriff. My name is Sam Brackley. I have some questions for you about a serial murder case you worked a few years ago. Do?—”
“I don’t talk to reporters, sorry.”
“I’m not—” The line clicked in his ear. Sam huffed and dialed again.
“Sheriff Archer.”
“I’m not a reporter.” Sam figured it was best to start with that, so he at least had a chance of not being hung up on again.
“Tenacious like one, though. So, who are you?”
“Like I said, my name is Sam Brackley. I’m a former Navy Senior Chief with the SEALs.”
A beat of silence passed.
“You have my attention. What do you want with the Marsters case?”
Sam let out a short, huffed laugh. “Um, well, how much time do you have?”
“How about you give me the cliff notes version?”
“All right. My”—Sam paused for a second, debating how to categorize Audra, then just went for it—“girlfriend is an SIS officer undercover with the Irish mafia in Las Vegas. Someone tried to kill her two weeks ago. Through our investigation, we found a couple of individuals who have a link to Marsters.”
Another long pause came over the line. Then, “Well, shit. I have questions.” The sheriff sighed. “But not a lot of time right now. Um, okay. Can I call you back? Around, say, twelve-thirty? I need to rearrange some things and there are a few other people who should probably be on the call. And can you do a Zoom meeting?”
Sam blinked, an amused smile forming on his face as he listened to the sheriff’s rapid-fire questions. “Sure. There are some people here who should probably be part of the conversation as well.”
“Great. What’s your email? I’ll send you the meeting link.”
Sam gave it to him.
“Okay. We’ll talk soon.”
“Sounds good.”