Page 75 of Facing the Enemy
We waited the full ten minutes and made our way back to the three men. ASAC Kendall and I took our previous seats. I stared at the three. I believed silence sucks out the truth.
“Are you ready to hear my clients’ decision?” Giang said.
I motioned for him to proceed.
“Mr. Tuan and Mr. Vinh would like to plea-bargain, to assist the FBI in solving the murders and arson, but they don’t have the answers to all of your questions.”
“Which ones do they have answers?” I said. “Without clear information, I can’t talk to the judge.”
“If they gave you a name of who supposedly paid them to commit the felonies, that jeopardizes their not-guilty plea. Mr. Tuan and Mr. Vinh aren’t willing to provide you with a fictitious name.”
“You’re telling me they don’t know who paid them?”
“They are innocent. They are aware of accosting you and Special Agent Bradford on the day of the alleged crimes. But have no idea who attacked Agent Bradford, committed the murders, or set the fire.”
“What about Mr. Tuan’s .22?”
“He claims it was stolen.”
I pressed my lips into a tight smile. “Gentlemen, we’re finished here. I will see you in court.” I paused again, all for effect. “Mr. Tuan and Mr. Vinh, you lose either way. If you stand before a judge and jury with the evidence we have against you, my guess the judge will pronounce the death penalty. Sleep well tonight.”
40
RISA
Evening shadows rippled through the slats of my living room blinds, reminding me of how faint signs of light could give insight to a tragedy. The FBI and two HPD detectives still processed the crime scene—where killers had left a reminder of how Luke had been murdered. I’d forgotten how long it took to conduct a thorough sweep. During an investigation I often became so absorbed in finding evidence that I lost track of time.
So here I sat in my ever-darkening living room and sipped on warm ginger ale, willing someone to shed light on the nightmare crimes that stalked me.
The doorbell interrupted my self-centered musings, and I answered it without checking to see who stood outside. Gage ... I flung open the door and wrapped my arms around his neck. No sobs, just clinging to him for support. Forget the nonsense about me being strong. I was too weary to construct a facade.
“Hey, I got here as soon as I could.” His voice quieted me. He kissed my cheek, and he rubbed my back.
“I’m okay, really.” Hadn’t I repeated the same thing to Darlene, who’d left fifteen minutes ago with a promise to check back later?
“You will be.”
I stepped back and allowed him to enter. Lines etched around his eyes, stress reminders. The past few days had aged both of us. “The team is still here, finishing up.” I gestured to my bedroom.
“Give me a moment with them.”
I nodded with a poor attempt of having my emotions intact, and he disappeared down the hall. I should have walked that mile with him, but instead the image of Luke’s head scrolled through my mind interspersed with his wedding ... and how happy he and his wife had been. My comfort lay in recalling his commitment to the FBI and professionalism, like I’d chosen happy moments with Trenton. Sweet memories and Jesus kept me sane.
I leaned against the back of the door with my arms wrapped around me. Who was with Luke’s wife? For certain, the SAC had broken the news and remained with her until family or friends arrived. Determination spiraled through me to focus on finding the evidence to stop these senseless killings. Glancing at my laptop on the coffee table, I pondered the distraction of entering people and data into a spreadsheet ... More like busywork when software would do the task more efficiently.
Unfortunately, the fog in my mind more closely resembled an impossible maze. The tasks I couldn’t finish today would be there tomorrow.
Gage appeared in the hallway. He won the gold medal for strength, stamina, and wisdom, traits I had once thought I possessed. “I appreciate your being here when I know you’re exhausted.”
“No place I’d rather be.” For a brief millisecond, his blue-gray eyes flashed his love, the love I so desperately wanted. He glanced away. “The team is preparing to leave.”
“They’ll expedite the fingerprint check, but will it provide answers?” I shook my head. “Ignore me. I’m angry and justice is elusive. Are Carson and his family in a safe house?”
“Yes, but not Ethan.” Gage explained what had transpired at the office. “We need a name, solid evidence to move forward. Ethan’s willingness to force John Smith’s hand could shove puzzle pieces into place. Before Ethan left, he changed the passwords on the accountsin Smith’s possession. His choice, knowing once the bad guys know what he’s done, they will spare no bullets.”
“Courage is one thing but setting himself up to be killed is another. Whatever happened to meliorism?” I said.
“We grew up and saw the world for what it is. For now,” he said, “we deal with what we have. I haven’t checked for updates yet today.”
