CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Faith’s heart thudded. “What?”
“Well, I heard about your trouble getting a warrant for the Langley Art Academy, so—”
“How did you hear about that?”
“It’s rude to interrupt,” Bridgette replied peevishly, “but since it’s a good story, I’ll tell you. I was in the coffee shop when your partner called for that warrant.”
Faith recalled the woman Jessica had nearly collided with. Now she remembered where she’d heard that voice.
She kicked herself. She and Jessica had talked quietly, but not especially carefully. They just assumed no one in the crowded cafeteria was listening in.
Now, thanks to that mistake, classified details about the case were in the hands of the news media.
“Listen, Miss Thurston. Eavesdropping on a private conversation between federal agents is a crime. That information—”
“It’s not a crime, actually. It falls under plain sight laws. I know it’s hearing, not sight, but the point is it’s not illegal. The real point is that I infiltrated the academy myself, and I know who your killer is.”
Faith hated everything about this, but she couldn’t afford to pass up a lead no matter where it came from. “Okay, go ahead.”
“Well, the class is still going on, so I have like, ten seconds to talk. The instructor’s talking with a French accent, but I’m pretty sure he’s from Boston.
Anyway, we were learning about color theory, and I saw one of the soldiers walk in.
He’s a hunk. Most soldiers are, but this guy’s like an eleven out of ten. ”
Faith pressed her fingertips to her left temple. “Bridgette, please get to the point.”
“I am. So, I excuse myself to use the restroom and flag this guy down. We start talking, and I can tell he’s interested in me, so I kind of flaunt it a little, you know?”
“Pretend I’m you, and you’re an informant who needs to give you a really important scoop now or your biggest rival is going to get the story first.”
“Okay, fine,” Bridgette said in an injured tone.
“Jesus. So, this guy tells me about his veteran art class, and I mention that I know come guys at the VA who take it. He says he’s one of them and yeah, most of them take it just to give themselves something to do.
Obviously, he doesn’t want to tell me it’s his therapist telling him to take it.
Guys think they’re weak if they go to therapy. It’s weird.”
Faith gave up trying to hurry Bridgette along and settled in for a frustrating and long-winded expression.
She heard the door open behind her and turned to see Carrie and Julie talking in low voices as they headed for the parking lot.
They saw Faith and gave her a pair of nervous smiles while Bridgette droned on about nothing important.
“So, we were talking about how some artists are eccentric. You know, how Van Gogh cut off his ear as a present for a hooker? Anyway, he tells me that there was this guy in their class who wasn’t from the VA. A loner named Sullivan.”
Faith perked up. “Sullivan. Is that a first name or a last name?”
Faith caught movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to see that Julie had stiffened at the sound of that name. Carrie was white as a sheet looking between her friend and Faith. Interesting.
“Last name. First name is Jimmy. So, this guy, apparently, was a real head case. Used to mutter to himself and got pissed off anytime anyone talked about religion. I guess he was normal when you talked to him, but when he was left to himself, he got real weird.”
Faith heard voices from the other end, and Bridgette said, “Oop. I got to get going. I think they’re wondering what I’m doing out here. Anyway, I think you might want to follow up on this Jimmy guy.”
“Jimmy Sullivan,” Faith repeated, watching the two volunteers from the VA Records office.
Julie jumped and brought her hand to her mouth. Carrie put an arm around her and led her away, watching Faith warily.
“I’ll do that,” Faith told Bridgette. “Thank you.”
“Hold on! This is big info. I think I should get credit for the help, and an exclusive—”
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll talk about it. Thank you.”
Faith hung up and trotted after the girls, who were making good time toward a late-model crossover SUV. “Hey!” she called. “Girls? Can I talk to you?”
Carrie reached for a key fob and pressed the unlock button. Faith picked up speed to a jog, and Carrie fumbled with the rear passenger door while Julie argued with her under her breath.
Faith heard Carrie hiss, “It’s fine! Go!” just before she opened the door.
Faith put a hand on the door just before Julie stepped inside. Both girls jumped and stared at Faith, Julie in horror, Carrie like a protective mother.
“Excuse me, your partner said we’re free to go,” Carrie said curtly.
“Tell me who Jimmy Sullivan is,” Faith asked Julie.
“No,” Carrie said, stepping in between her friend and putting a finger in Faith’s face. “No, we didn’t do anything wrong, and we’re not answering questions. Julie, get in the car.”
Faith smiled at Carrie and kept her voice pleasant. “Neither of you are in trouble right now. But if it comes to light that either of you are withholding information that could help us catch this killer, then you will both be in extreme trouble.”
Carrie glanced at Julie worriedly. Julie stood ramrod straight, lips pressed into a bloodless line, eyes fixed on the FBI logo on Faith’s vest.
“People are dying,” Faith said. “Innocent people. Please help us stop that from happening. Please give us a chance to end this before anyone else is killed.”
The girls remained silent, Julie terrified and silent, Carrie terrified and defiant.
"We're going to find out," Faith said softly. "Neither of you is experienced enough to know how to hide something from the FBI."
"We're not hiding anything," Carrie protested. "We didn't do anything wrong. If you need to talk to us, you can talk to our lawyer. Now, back off of my car!”
She put a hand on Faith’s vest and shoved.
That was technically assault on a law enforcement officer, but Carrie stood about five-one and weighed maybe a hundred pounds after Thanksgiving dinner.
Faith barely moved, and she really didn’t think these two were trying to be difficult.
They were just terrified. She didn’t want to throw the book at them unless she absolutely had to.
“If lawyers get involved, it means we’re charging you two with obstruction,” Faith explained gently. “If you talk to me right now, then we don’t need to charge you with anything.”
"Just…" Carrie folded her arms across her chest and looked over Faith's shoulder, then back at Faith. "We don't know anything!" she said pleadingly.
Faith looked at Julie. “Is that true?”
Julie swallowed. Tears leaked from her eyes. Carrie put a hand over her mouth, then said, “Agent, you can’t make us incriminate ourselves.”
“No one’s doing that,” Faith assured her. “My interest is only in Jimmy Sullivan. I don’t want any trouble for you guys.”
“That’s just what cops always say,” Carrie protested.
But her resolve was weakening. She was looking at Julie again, but this time questioningly instead of protectively. Faith waited patiently. The shell was cracking. It just needed to open a little more.
“Fuck,” Julie whispered miserably. “He’s my brother.”
Faith was used to surprises in her line of work, but this was a good one. She stared in amazement at Julie for a moment before recovering. “I see. I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t know he was going to do anything. He never… I mean, he would say that he hated priests and prophets and stuff, but he never said he wanted to hurt anyone. He kept talking about how much he hated war and violence.”
She was weeping now, wiping tears from her eyes and shaking like a leaf. Carrie stood with her arm around her, looking down at the ground.
“Did you give him the records?” Faith asked.
“No!” Both girls said at once.
Faith lifted a hand. “I’m talking to Julie, Carrie. Please let her speak for herself.”
Carrie looked at Julie and seemed ready to protest again, but she kept quiet.
“No,” Julie repeated. “But I use the same password for everything. I know you’re not supposed to, but I don’t know. I didn’t think it was a really big deal.” She took a shuddering breath and wiped more tears from her eyes.
“But that’s not her fault,” Carrie said quickly. “That’s an accident. She didn’t tell him anything.”
Faith nodded. "I believe that. And I'm so sorry that you have to deal with this, Julie. I'm also sorry that I have to ask this of you, but your brother is likely responsible for two murders and nearly a third. Do you know where we can find him?"
Julie took a deep breath and squeezed more tears from her eyes. She nodded. Then the dam burst. She sank into Carrie’s arms, and her friend pulled her close and held her tightly, glaring at Faith.
Faith was impatient to get the lead from Julie, but the poor woman was on the edge of complete collapse. Faith could give her a moment to collect herself while she waited for Turk and Jessica.
She called Jessica, and her partner said, “That was a long conversation. You must have found something good.”
“Looks that way,” Faith replied. “Bridgette got a name for us. Jimmy Sullivan.”
“I’ll look that up.”
“No need. It turns out that Julie is Jimmy’s sister.”
Jessica paused for a second, then said, “Oh, holy shit. That’s how he got into the records.”
“Yes. It looks like he was able to find Julie’s password without her knowledge and use that to log into her intranet.”
“Yeah, the Cybercrimes guys said someone from the outside used a Tor browser to download the data. Does Julie know where he is?”
Faith glanced at the weeping young woman. “Yes. She’s about to tell me. Bring Turk downstairs. Actually, go get the car and meet me in the staff lot. You’ll see me with Julie and Carrie.”
“Will do. Everything okay, Faith? This is good news, but you sound like your dog just… I’m going to pick a new metaphor.”
Faith smiled faintly. “I’m just reminded of how many people are hurt by violence.”
“Yeah, well, that’s why there are people like us.”
But there’s only so much people like us can do, Faith thought. Only so many wounds we can heal.
“I’ll see you soon, Jessica.”
She hung up and said, “Julie? Can you give me an answer now?”
Julie sniffed and wiped tears from her eyes.
Her breath came in halting gasps, and her lower lip shuddered badly.
"He's… staying… at a… cabin… in… Watson.
" She swallowed and took a deep breath. It helped a little.
"He's been unemployed for a while. I send him some money, but he's been doing odd jobs lately, so I haven't had to send him as much.
The cabin's on public land, but it's in an area that people don't really check.
It's kind of like a hunting lodge, so the BLM usually leaves it alone unless there's evidence of squatting.
I guess they just haven't been there in a while. "
She was rambling, and Faith had to quell her impatience. She was grappling with the realization that her brother was a violent murderer. That was a little different from Bridgette’s attention-seeking behavior.
“Where exactly is the cabin?”
"It's off of Watson Road. Near Little River.
" She sniffed and added, "I see him every few weeks just to make sure he's okay, and he's not doing drugs again.
" She lifted pleading eyes to Faith. "He was doing fine.
After he came back from Afghanistan, he was doing fine.
He had a job, he was getting into art, he was…
he was making friends. Then he went back.
" She wiped more tears from her eyes. "I told him not to go back. "
Faith put two and two together. “He went to Syria.”
She nodded. “He thought he was good enough to help people again, so he re-enlisted and went to Syria with the Army. When he came back, he was… he was…”
She fell silent and squeezed more tears from her eyes. Carrie rubbed her shoulders and murmured, “That’s all right, sweetie.”
“I never thought he would kill people,” Julie said. “I really thought he was better. He sounded better. Not good, but better.”
The Prius pulled up. Jessica started to get out, but Faith waved at her to stay in the car. She put a hand on Julie’s shoulder and squeezed. “It’ll be okay,” she said. She hoped that wasn’t a lie.
She looked at Carrie and nodded. “You can take her home. Stay with her, okay?”
Carrie nodded and led Julie around to the passenger side. Faith got into the passenger side of Julie's car, took a deep breath, and said, "Okay. Here's where we're going."