Chapter Fifteen #2
Gazing across the table, Landon said coolly, “I’ll need a list of any other employees of Ivan Pimentel who may have been driving the BMW during the time in question—”
“I can do that,” Abercrombie said, looking pleased with himself. “No problem.”
“Okay.” Landon glanced at the video camera that was showing the interview to Katie and Zach in another room. “You’re free to go.”
“Thanks.”
Before Abercrombie could get up, Landon said to him for a reaction, “By the way, you and Pimentel were spotted by FBI agents at Saluda Shoals Park—meeting with known art smuggler Hans Duey. He was taken into custody on international charges. Do you have anything to say about that?”
The man scratched his chin ponderingly. “Only that we met with Hans as someone we believed to be a legitimate art dealer,” he argued. “If he did anything illegal, I can assure you that Mr. Pimentel played no part in it. Neither did I.”
Yeah, right, Landon thought, finding the notion laughable at best. And appalling at worst, considering the transnational crimes they were believed to have committed. Not the least of which was murder. And there was still Eddie’s status to be determined categorically.
“Thanks for your time,” Landon said, then saw Abercrombie out the door.
The suspect turned to Landon and stated, looking him in the eye, “As I’m sure you realize, Agent Briscoe, being under investigation is not the same thing as being guilty of any alleged crimes…”
I’m pretty sure the two go hand in hand in this case, Landon told himself but responded intently, “You’re right about that. But just so you know, a criminal investigation may also prove the guilt is real—when the verdict comes in…”
Abercrombie bristled at the thought and walked away.
When Katie and Zach came out of a viewing room, Katie said, her brow creased, “Can you believe him? Abercrombie must think we’re totally stupid. The man’s lying through his teeth—about pretty much everything.”
Zach concurred. “We should’ve just arrested him on the spot—with Pimentel following in his footsteps on solid RICO charges, at the very least.”
“I agree,” Landon told them. “But it made more sense to let him sweat it out a little longer. Pimentel too, while giving them more rope to hang themselves. Meanwhile, let’s keep an eye on Abercrombie.
Something tells me that beneath the cool-as-a-cucumber facade, he’s a rather loose cannon that Pimentel isn’t afraid to utilize in whatever way he sees fit. ”
* * *
RAQUELLE SAT IN the auditorium, offering a few comments and words of encouragement as her student actors performed on stage.
Each clearly took their roles seriously, wanting to both please her and use the opportunity as a stepping stone for their future aspirations in the entertainment industry or otherwise.
I only wish I had been as gung-ho in what I wanted to do with my life when I was in college, Raquelle thought enviously as she sat next to the Department of Theatre Chairperson Yves Deutschman.
She glanced at him. In his sixties, he was rail-thin and had silver hair in a short fringe style and a Balbo beard.
His gray-blue eyes were focused on the performers.
Raquelle turned back to the stage. Though she had generally been career-oriented through the years, having a family was every bit as important.
She understood that now and hoped it might actually become a reality, seeing that her one true love, Landon, was back in her life.
And he seemed to want the same thing as a future parent who could introduce his progeny to his own mother and stepfather.
That family also extended to her brother, Eddie, who was out there somewhere, being chased by bad guys. He would have to stop running at some point and let them in.
At least Raquelle wanted to believe this. Her biggest fear was that he would run out of time and those out to get him would be successful, thwarting Landon’s efforts to hold them accountable for any art crimes they committed.
Raquelle pushed that thought aside and applauded when the performance was over. As the students high-fived each other, knowing that they had aced it, possibly surpassing even their own expectations, Yves bellowed excitedly, “Bravo, bravo!”
Raquelle laughed. Naturally, she had to follow suit—keenly aware that it would reflect well on her—by mimicking him, “Bravo!”
At that moment, her cell phone buzzed. Raquelle removed it from the pocket of her bouclé jacket. She saw that the caller was Jay Locklear, Eddie’s friend from the reservation.
Getting up from her seat, Raquelle walked down the aisle, away from the stage, and answered the call. “Hey, Jay,” she said attentively.
“Eddie was here,” Jay spoke tonelessly.
“Really?” She composed herself. “When?”
“Since shortly after his boat exploded,” he responded matter-of-factly.
She lifted a brow. “But you claimed Eddie wasn’t there when Landon and I came to the Catawba lands…?”
“I know.” Jay took a breath. “Eddie asked me not to say anything if anyone—including you—came looking for him. Since it wasn’t my secret to tell, I respected his wishes.”
Though Raquelle understood his loyalty to her brother—and breathed a sigh of relief in knowing that Eddie was indeed alive—she had to ask, ill at ease, “So, why are you telling me this now?”
“Because Eddie’s left the reservation,” Jay replied. “He didn’t tell me where he was going—though I gave him some money to work with—and I didn’t ask. But I thought you deserved to know at least that much.”
“Thank you, Jay,” Raquelle expressed sincerely.
“Hope Eddie gets everything straightened out,” he stated.
“We both do,” she told him.
Raquelle added Landon to that list as well. Knowing that removing himself from the sanctuary of the reservation meant that Eddie had once again placed himself in danger. Assuming he had chosen to return to Falona County and the line of fire, bombings, and gunshots aimed squarely at him.