Page 59 of One Final Target

“We talked about a puppet master, and... well, looking at all those pictures and seeing a tough guy like Hayes dead, apparently without a fight... Sam, what if the puppet master is a cop?”

CHAPTER32

SAM YAWNED AS HE LEFT ESTELLA’S.Mind bleary with fatigue, he considered the case. He and Jodie were on the same page. There was a cop in on this. Nothing in the original investigation pointed to law enforcement involvement. Based on the theory Hayes had been living in the cabin and escaped through the tunnel, the FBI concluded Hayes didn’t know the exact time of the raid.

But now they had reason to believe Hayes was dead, and with the information at hand, he might have been dead before the raid. Collins could have fled the cabin after baiting the trap. The house here in Long Beach with its creepy photo room proved that Collins had way too much inside information, and Sam doubted he’d gathered it all himself.

He wanted to share theories with Jodie, but right now theyall needed rest. It was time to find Smiley and let him know he believed they’d done all they could here for the night and should head home. He could leave knowing Jodie was in good hands for now.

Sam was so deep in thought, he almost didn’t see the man.

“Hey.”

Sam stopped, fully recognizing he was going to be intercepted. Most of the crowd was gone; a couple press teams remained, but they weren’t pushing against the boundaries of the police tape anymore. It looked as if they were taping reports. The chief must have given them a satisfying sound bite.

“Gresham.” The man made it sound like a command.

“Hunter. What can I do for you?”

“Are you certain Dennis Collins is behind the IED?” Ian Hunter faced Sam, hands on hips.

“Reasonably.”

“He needs to die.” He dropped his hands and moved toe-to-toe with Sam.

To Sam, it appeared as though Ian wanted agreement from him. They were roughly the same height, and Sam could see the anger in Ian’s eyes.

“Not my call—you know that,” he said.

“Four good cops—all dead. How can you not make that call?”

“I’m not judge and jury.”

Ian threw his hands up, body vibrating with frustration. “I should have been there that day. I...” He swallowed. “I would have been at Jodie’s side, I would have...” His voice trailed off.

Sam said nothing, simply waited.

“I can’t deal with not being there, not doing something. I don’t see how Jodie deals with being there and surviving.”

“I think she recognizes it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t your fault either.”

“Fault?” He chuckled mirthlessly. “You won’t be judge and jury, huh? Call me—I will be.” His glare was so intense, Sam stepped back a bit.

“Is there a problem here?”

Both men turned at the sound of Detective King’s voice.

“No problem,” Sam said.

“What are you doing here, Ian?” Mike asked.

“I did what you asked, checked into Collins and gangs. Kid is clean, not so much as a parking ticket. I did find something off.”

“What?” Mike asked before Sam could.

“The kid doesn’t have any vehicles registered to him.” Ian threw his hands up. “How does a guy get around town, much less get up to San Bernardino, without a car?”

“He uses Uber, and he has a license,” Sam said. “Estella says he didn’t have a car. Sometimes he would borrow a friend’s Jeep, but he left his house in an Uber, and from all appearances, he never meant to come back.”

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