Chapter 3 #2
Everyone on the team had a nickname, his wasn’t that unusual, but he sensed Bryn’s confusion. “Hey, Captain, we’re on the north side of Madison and need a safe place to stay. Can you find a rental?”
“Yep, hang on.” The sound of fingers hitting a keyboard echoed through the speaker. “Everything okay?”
“Not exactly.” He risked a quick glance at Bryn.
“It’s kind of a long story, but the short version is that Bryn’s boss, Damien Rochester, is missing along with funds that were embezzled from the company.
The police interviewed Bryn at length, then let her go home.
That’s when someone fired at her, sending her running and calling me.
We met in Beloit and decided to visit one of Damien’s old girlfriends, Lori Eastman.
Unfortunately, the gunman showed up and shot Lori. ”
“Wait, what? She’s dead?” Rex’s voice rose incredulously.
“Yeah. Unfortunately, she didn’t tell us anything useful either.”
His boss let out a low whistle. “Not good. What do the police think?”
“We left without talking to them. Lori is a redhead like Bryn. I’m sure the gunman killed her by mistake.” When his boss remained silent for a long moment, he added, “They’re already treating Bryn like a suspect. I made the decision that her safety trumped making a police report.”
Rex exhaled loudly. “Yeah, I guess I can’t blame you for that. But leaving the scene of a homicide isn’t going to look good. For either of you.”
“I know.” He didn’t bother to fill Rex in on the fact that the cops didn’t know about the shooting at Bryn’s house yet either. Or if they did, they hadn’t heard the story directly from Bryn. “We’ll give our statements tomorrow, but for now, we need a safe house.”
“I’m working on that.” More keys clacking, then a period of silence. “Okay, I have a place secured for you. It’s located a few miles northwest of Madison. Will that work?”
“Yes. Shoot me the address.” Micah knew Rex had direct access to rental properties outside normal channels. This was the first time Micah had operated in Madison, but Rex had a large network that extended across many states, even the East and West Coasts.
“Coming through.” His phone pinged as Rex sent the text. “I’ve provided the access code too.”
“Thanks.” He didn’t doubt his boss was thorough. “Do you know anyone within the Madison police department?”
“No, but I can make some calls,” Rex said.
“I was interviewed by Detective Holbrook,” Bryn said, speaking up for the first time.
“He wasn’t very nice. Kept asking me the same questions over and over again as if he didn’t believe a word I was saying.
I told him I didn’t know where Damien was or anything about the missing money, but he kept pushing. ”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Rex said. “But grilling suspects like that is typical police behavior. Try not to take it personally.”
“I’m not a suspect!” Bryn’s voice rose in agitation. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I know that, and we trust you, Bryn.” Rex’s soothing voice didn’t seem to matter. Bryn still looked upset. “The police are just doing their job. They have to consider everyone a possible suspect until proven otherwise.”
Micah should have mentioned that approach to Bryn earlier, she clearly had been ruminating over being treated like a suspect. He smiled reassuringly. “The captain is right. I’m sure the detective talked to everyone at the office the same way.”
“I don’t know about that.” She didn’t look convinced. “Richard fired me because he thinks I was involved. I’m sure he gave the detective an earful. And my friend Gwen, Richard’s assistant, treated me coldly too.”
Micah hadn’t known she was fired from her position and that her friend had believed she was involved.
Talk about a double whammy. “Once we clear your name, that won’t matter.
” At least, he hoped not. The truth was that Bryn’s career at the PR and marketing firm was likely over for good.
He wondered if Rex knew a good employment attorney but refrained from asking.
They had bigger issues to worry about. Most importantly staying out of sight from the gunman.
“Doubtful.” She sniffled, swiped at her face, then turned to stare out the window. If he wasn’t driving, he’d have pulled her into his arms.
“Hang in there, Bryn. I’m sure we’ll uncover the truth soon enough,” Rex said. “Mick, do you need anything else? Other than a contact within the Madison police department? I can always go to the feds, if needed. Not that they’re necessarily friendly these days.”
“No, that’s good enough for now. I’ll touch base with you tomorrow about how to work with the local law enforcement officials moving forward.”
“Okay. Talk later.” Rex ended the call without saying anything more.
A heavy silence hung between them. He tapped the screen on his dashboard to see the address and to use the GPS to find the location.
“I should have called the police right away,” Bryn said, breaking the silence, “rather than running from the gunman.”
“Hey, don’t stress about this.” He hated knowing she was beating herself up over her alleged mistakes. In his opinion, none of this was her fault. Dating a guy wasn’t a crime. “Once the police understand how you’ve been targeted by a gunman, they won’t blame you for wanting to go someplace safe.”
“Maybe. I still don’t like how I was treated as if guilty until proven innocent.” She sighed again. “That’s backward.”
“The investigation is different from going to trial.” He didn’t want to keep harping on how the detectives had questioned her.
Although it suddenly occurred to him that the detective had not yet visited Lori Eastman prior to her murder.
Something he would have thought would have been top on their list. Former girlfriends were always questioned.
He was secretly concerned that Bryn was right.
That the police had zeroed in on her, rather than exploring other suspects.
And he had a bad feeling there was some other evidence that pointed to her.
Something she didn’t know anything about.
It just seemed odd that Richard would have immediately fired her without a good reason.
Grimly, he silently admitted Bryn might need a good criminal defense lawyer, rather than one who specialized in employment law, before this was over.
“Looks like we’re still ten minutes away.” Bryn tapped on the screen where a blue line marked their path to the rental property. “Any chance we could swing by my house to get a change of clothes?”
He hesitated. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“My feet are killing me.” She gestured to her office shoes. “These weren’t meant for running. And they’re caked with mud from the marsh.”
The stores weren’t open this late, so it was either wait until tomorrow or swing by her place now. He didn’t think the gunman would expect them to head back to her place. Not after a shooting took place at the house. “The police might be there.”
“If they are, we won’t go. But if they’re not, then it should be fine, right?” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Maybe we’ll get a chance to see the bullet hole left by the gunman.”
“Evidence of a crime would be helpful.” Micah made a right-hand turn to deviate from their current course. “We’ll see if anyone is there. If there’s crime scene tape or police cars nearby, we’ll turn around and head to the rental property.”
“Fine with me.” She blew out a long breath. “I would love to change into sneakers, jeans, and a sweater instead of these office clothes.”
He could understand her wanting to be comfortable.
Especially since he had no idea how long they’d have to stay at the rental house.
One night for sure, likely more. He didn’t want to mention this to Bryn, but the situation wasn’t looking good.
Lori Eastman’s murder changed things, and not for the better.
No matter how much he wanted to have faith in the cops, he didn’t think the issue of finding Damien and the missing money would be resolved in a matter of hours.
If the guy had money aside of the funds he’d likely embezzled, which was how Lori and Bryn had made it sound, he could easily go off the grid. For all they knew, Damien could be on an island sipping an umbrella drink by now, laughing at how he’d left Bryn in the lurch with his absence.
The jerk.
Micah forced himself to stay focused on keeping Bryn safe. He’d figure out the rest of this mess later. “Do you know the way from here, or should I put your address into the map application?” He arched a brow. “Either way is fine with me.”
“I know the way. Take this road for another mile or so, then turn left.”
He did so, then continued to follow her instructions as they headed back toward Madison. When she directed him to turn at the next intersection, he was glad to see they were heading away from the capital building.
“There’s no direct route,” Bryn said, reading his mind. “The two lakes that flank the city make it harder to get from point A to point B. The scenery is wonderful, but the design of the city makes the commute in and out of the downtown area a nightmare.”
“Traffic in Chicago is unbearable as well.” He grinned wryly. “Mac has the right idea, living mostly in Wyoming.”
“Mac?” She frowned.
“Grady McFarland. You may have noticed the boss refers to us by our army nicknames. I’m Mick, for obvious reasons.
Grady McFarland is Mac. He recently got married and now splits his time between his house in Wyoming and his wife’s apartment in Chicago.
From what I hear, they’re spending most of their time in Cody. ”
“Not as many job opportunities in Wyoming.” She grimaced. “I should probably work on updating my resume.”
“There will be time for that later.” He reached over to touch her knee. “Once we clear your name, you’ll have an easier time hitting the job market.”
She stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “I guess you’re right. Proving my innocence should be my primary goal.”
“Yep.” He noticed a sign up ahead. “Is that the Irish pub you called me from?”
“O’Brien’s. There’s state-owned protected marshland over there.” She gestured out his side of the window. “That’s where I hid from the gunman.”
“Smart move on your part.” He was impressed with her quick thinking. Then he scowled as he caught the hint of smoke. “Do they have a wood-burning stove?”
“No.” She sniffed the air too. “That’s odd. Maybe someone is having a bonfire?”
As he turned at the next street, the haze of smoke grew thicker. “Those clouds of smoke aren’t from a bonfire. Something else is burning.”
“Like what?” As soon as Bryn asked the question, he caught a glimpse of an orange glow on the horizon. A sick feeling of dread washed over him as he continued driving.
There was no doubt in his mind a house was on fire. Bryn’s house?
“Oh no. Please don’t tell me . . .” Bryn’s voice trailed off. Then she reached over to grab his arm. “It’s my house, Micah! That’s my house that’s burning.”
“Are you sure?” He didn’t dare get too close in case they were stopped by the police. He slowed and pulled over to the side of the road. “Could be your neighbor.”
“I’m sure.” Her voice filled with anguish. “Do you think the gunman did this? Do you think he set my house on fire?”
“I don’t know. He would have had to do that after the shooting at Lori’s house, so maybe not.
” He saw two fire trucks parked in the street, along with several police vehicles.
They looked to him as if they’d been there for a while, at least ten minutes.
Was that enough time for the gunman to have gotten here from Lori’s house?
Maybe, if he’d left the downtown area of Madison immediately after the shooting. And if he already had the accelerant and other items needed to start the fire readily available in his vehicle.
He felt certain the fire at Bryn’s would be deemed arson. Sure, it could be a faulty electrical system or something else, but based on the shooting that had taken place, he doubted those scenarios.
Easing his foot off the gas, he made a Y-turn in the road to retrace their path back to the rental property.
Heading far away from the burning home.
As they fled the scene, Micah grimly realized that whatever evidence of the shooting that had been at Bryn’s home would likely be lost forever.