CHAPTER EIGHT #2
"No, but brilliant investigative work does.
Which is what you did. And now the Marshals are doing their job, and we need to do ours.
" He gestured back at the whiteboard, at David Langford's life mapped in marker and photographs.
"Someone tortured and killed a city employee in those steam tunnels.
They planned it carefully, executed it methodically, and they're still out there.
That case needs you present and focused, not three hours away hoping to catch a glimpse of Brune in handcuffs. "
Isla knew he was right. Intellectually, she understood that every word James had said was true. But emotionally, the pull toward Grand Rapids was almost physical, a magnetic force trying to drag her away from the unsolved murder on her desk.
Her phone buzzed with another update—crime scene photos from the tunnel chamber, enhanced and annotated by the techs.
Isla forced herself to look at them, to study the deliberate burn patterns on David Langford's skin, the modified wiring in the junction box, the evidence of a killer who'd turned infrastructure into a weapon.
This was her case now. Present tense, active investigation, someone who needed to be caught before they hurt anyone else.
"You're right," Isla said finally, turning away from the window. "Brune is their job now. Langford is ours."
"Good." James returned to his desk, pulling up a new document.
"Because I've been thinking about those text messages.
The phrasing was specific—'Don't involve HR or I'll make sure everyone knows what you did.
' That suggests inside knowledge, but also something to hold over Langford. Something he was hiding."
Isla felt her investigator's mind engage, pushing aside the distraction of the Brune manhunt. "We went through his personnel file. Nothing jumped out."
"His official file, yeah. But what about unofficial complaints? Water cooler gossip? The kind of thing that doesn't make it into HR records but everyone in the department knows about?"
It was a good angle, one they hadn't fully explored yet. Isla pulled out her phone and called Carol Martinez, who answered on the second ring despite the late hour.
"Martinez."
"Carol, it's Agent Rivers. I need to ask you about David Langford.
Off the record, no official documentation—was there anything about him that people talked about?
Any rumors, concerns, incidents that didn't rise to the level of formal complaints?" Isla wanted to hear it from Carol herself first, before letting her know what she’d already learned about the Langford’s reputation.
Martinez was quiet for a moment, and Isla could almost hear her weighing professional loyalty against the need to solve a murder.
"There was talk," she said finally. "About six months ago.
Some of the guys said David was cutting corners on safety inspections, signing off on tunnel sections without actually going down there to check them.
Nobody filed a formal complaint because. .." She trailed off.
"Because everyone does it sometimes," Isla finished. "And nobody wants to be the one who narcs. Yet David himself placed a complaint against people.”
"Exactly. It's not right, but it happens. Budget cuts, time pressure, too much work and not enough people. Sometimes guys skip steps."
Isla thought about Russ Bellamy's claim that he'd reported Langford for cutting corners, and how that had made him unpopular with his coworkers. Maybe Bellamy had been telling the truth after all.
"If someone wanted to blackmail Langford," Isla said carefully, "would those skipped inspections be enough leverage?"
"Depends on how bad it was. If it was just routine stuff, probably not. But if he signed off on something major without checking it, and something happened because of it..." Martinez paused. "Yeah, that could be career-ending. Maybe worse if someone got hurt."
Isla thanked her and ended the call, her mind racing. They needed to review Langford's inspection reports, cross-reference them with actual maintenance logs, look for discrepancies that might indicate what he'd been hiding.
"James, pull up Langford's work orders for the last year," she said, moving back to her computer. "I want to see every tunnel section he signed off on, compare it against when maintenance was actually performed."
They worked in focused silence for twenty minutes, the only sounds the clicking of keyboards and the occasional shuffle of papers. Isla's exhaustion faded into the background, replaced by the familiar rush of investigation, of pieces slowly clicking into place.
Her phone rang again—Deputy Marshal Barrett's number. Isla's heart jumped as she answered.
"Agent Rivers, wanted to update you. We've got the motel surrounded, but..." Barrett's voice carried frustration. "The room is empty. Looks like he cleared out maybe an hour ago. We're getting K-9 units to try and track which direction he went, but he's got a head start."
The disappointment was crushing but not surprising. Of course Brune had slipped away again. Of course he'd stayed just far enough ahead of them to remain free.
"Keep me posted," Isla said, trying to keep the frustration from her voice. "And thank you for the update."
She ended the call and looked at James, who'd clearly heard enough to understand what had happened. He didn't say I told you so, didn't point out that she'd have wasted three hours driving for nothing. He just nodded sympathetically and returned to his screen.
Isla took a breath, pushing Brune back into the compartment where she'd tried to keep him contained, and refocused on the spreadsheet in front of her. David Langford's inspection history. The case she could actually solve.
The killer who was still out there.