Page 32 of Fighting for Brielle
“That’s a military boot print,” Justice observed.
The enhanced search system pinged its results.
“We have a hit on those fingerprints, Chief.” His face fell. “Oh no. This can’t be right.”
“Pull it up,” Justice commanded.
The tech touched a couple of buttons and the information appeared on a gigantic transparent screen. Justice stared at the image in front of them, his jaw set and his eyes flashing in anger.
“Just as I suspected,” he muttered low in his throat.
The tech glanced at Justice in surprise. “I’ll run it again. Maybe…”
“No. You said our guy is probably about five feet ten and weighs two hundred pounds. It’s right.”
“Chief, there’s got to be a reason…”
“Keep looking for anything that might yield a clue to where it came from,” he interrupted. “Special markings or serial number, perhaps.” He turned toward Brielle, gazing at him with concern in her eyes. “I can’t return the HK416 or ammo to the evidence room. Not now.”
“Chief,” she addressed him, her voice soft but firm, “you must follow proper procedure. The chain of evidence needs to remain intact to make your case. When we get finished processing the rifle and the Beta C-mags, you have to log them in. It’s the right thing to do.”
He nodded, though he wasn’t pleased with her advice.
The tech scoured the HK416 for more trace evidence, but other than sand from the beach and the piece of packing material and the fingerprints, nothing else could be discovered.
Running a hand through his golden hair, Justice addressed the tech. “You need to keep this confidential. I don’t know what our guy may be involved in, and until I do, I don’t want to tip him off. Do you understand?”
The tech appeared affronted. “It goes without saying, Chief.”
Justice grabbed the trash bag with the HK416 in it and headed out of the lab. Brielle followed with the Beta C-mags and the piece of packing material, both in plastic baggies.
When they returned to the evidence room, Justice issued strict orders to the sergeant. “If anyone tries to sign this out, you need to let me know immediately. Make sure to inform the other two sergeants who have shifts after yours that no one gets access to this evidence but me. I don’t care if it’s in the middle of the night, I want to know.”
“Got it, Chief.”
“Very good.”
Justice reached for Brielle’s hand and led her back to his office. She felt the tension in his body as they walked briskly through the corridors. Though curious, she refrained from asking him any questions, letting him direct the conversation as soon as they were alone. He dropped her hand and closed the door. His eyes shone with worry as he rubbed his neck.
“Jesus. One of our own. Did you recognize the cop whose prints were on the assault rifle?”
“Yes. What are you thinking, Justice?” she asked, her voice quiet.
He shook his head, as if to clear the cobwebs. She waited for him to organize his thoughts. Moving toward the windows, Justice closed the blinds. He reached for a dry erase marker and wrote four names on the white board:Elliott Gage.Axel Anderson.Linda Ferguson.Nash Carson.
“Here’s what I know so far. Axel Anderson is an old friend of Gage, and he and his family went missing two years ago.” He drew a line connecting the two names and wrote MISSING aboveAnderson. “About the same time Gage and Ferguson became friendly after years of animosity.” He drew another connecting line. “Add the fact that Nash Carson joined the department then, too. I looked into him. Not deeply. Just enough to learn that his service record is unremarkable.”
He drew a question mark above Carson’s name and jotted down a note about his fingerprints on the HK416, and more than likely his shoe print on the ammunition.
“Follow me, Brielle. The trucks on the beach were moving illegal arms. Somehow Carson’s involved. He’s either part of an organization or he’s infiltrated it. In which case he lost the HK416 and the Beta C-mags, possibly deliberately, possibly not.”
“Okay, that makes sense. If he’s undercover, wouldn’t Ferguson have informed you?”
“You’d think. Unless, of course, she didn’t know.” He gazed at the white board. “Besides the trucks we heard the other night, can you recall anything else you might have seen or heard?”
Brielle frowned, searching her mind for something that seemed unusual. Then she recalled a detail thatappearedordinary.
“Justice, while I was speaking to Brendan that night, I saw the mayor’s superyacht heading south. It probably isn’t significant, except to note the parties on board are pretty decadent, from what I hear.”
