by Lis Wiehl
Even though he looked like he wasn’t following all of it, Leif seemed to be willing to take her word. “How are we going to clear this with the Bureau?”
“I don’t think that’s an option, at least not right now.” Nic knew that she might be torpedoing her own career. “By the time we explained everything it would be too late and too many people would know that the wrong woman got killed here. We’d never keep it quiet. We can figure out how to explain it later, but for right now, we’ve got to get her out of here.”
Leif’s expression was unreadable.
“Maybe you should just stay out of it,” she said. “I’m willing to put my career on the line, but not yours.”
He didn’t hesitate. “No. I’ll help.”
Allison seemed to be tracking better. “I won’t let you get in trouble, Nicole.”
Nic wagged her finger. “You don’t have a choice,” she whispered urgently. “Because your life is far more important than my career. Now quick. We don’t have much time. Where’s Lindsay’s purse?”
“I think it’s on the floor in front of the desk where we were sitting. The desk in the middle. The one with the cookies on it.” Allison started to turn around, but Nic grabbed her shoulder before she could present her face to the room.
“I already said that it was you under that sheet. But having your purse next to the body is crucial. The medical examiner will be the one to make the final ID, and he’ll be looking at the driver’s license as well as going off his own personal knowledge. How well does Tony know you? Does he know you have a sister?”
“He doesn’t know me that well, and he doesn’t know my sister at all.” Allison’s voice was shaking. “I don’t think he even knows I have one.”
“I’ll make the switch.” Leif held out his hand, and Allison handed over her purse. “Is your phone in it?”
She nodded, looking dazed.
“While you do that, I’ll get her outside,” Nic said. “We’ll meet at your car.” Her sunglasses were still on top of her head. Now she took them off and handed them to Allison, thankful that they were oversized. “Here. Put these on. And button your jacket so no one can see the blood on your throat.”
Allison did as she was told.
With his big hands Leif managed to nearly fold the purse in half, and then he clamped it under his muscled arm so that only an edge showed. No one seemed to be paying them any mind. Keeping to the edge of the room, Nic and Allison made for the door. Just before they reached it, Nic looked back and saw Leif crouch down as if he were looking at something on the carpet. When he stood up, he still had a black purse under his arm, but Nic knew it was Lindsay’s.
Watching the way he slipped through the crowd, somehow managing not to draw attention to himself, she was filled with gratitude. There was no way she could pull this off by herself. She probably couldn’t even pull it off with Leif, but at least she could try.
She flashed her badge at the cop manning the door. Back out in the flat heat of the day, she half pushed, half pulled Allison toward Leif’s car. The poor girl was barely able to put one foot in front of the other. Leif came up and took Allison’s other elbow. He was talking on his cell phone. From the half of the conversation Nic could overhear, he was telling, not asking, Ophelia that she would need to shelter Allison, at least for a few hours.
Once they reached his car, Leif opened the door and helped Allison inside.
What other loose ends were there? Nic leaned in. “What’s the name of the loan officer you were meeting with?” she asked Allison.
“Annie Botinelli. I remember thinking it was such a lovely name.” Her head lolled on her neck, and her voice sounded floaty.
“Okay, I’m going to go back in there and talk to her. Get her to keep quiet about Lindsay being here too. Leif will take you to Ophelia’s. We’ll meet later and figure out what else we need to do to keep you safe.”
“What about Marshall?” Allison asked.
Nic hadn’t thought of that. She hadn’t thought of anything. There had been no time.
“I’ll go to him before the police do,” she said, thinking out loud. “I’ll tell him the truth and tell him to get out of town and tell people he’s in seclusion. It will be too hard for him to pretend you’re dead if he knows otherwise. And that will keep him safe.” She stepped back. “Now you two need to go before anyone spots you.”
When Nic reentered the bank, Karl Zehner, another agent, hurried up to her, his face set and pale. “Oh, Nicole, I just heard. I’m so, so sorry. I can’t believe Allison is dead. What a stupid waste. The tellers are saying they handed over the money. They didn’t need to kill anyone—let alone one of the best federal prosecutors in the country.”
“I can’t believe it either,” Nic said, which wasn’t really a lie. She had lit the fire, and it was already sparking to life. When Karl turned away, she hurried over to a man wearing a name tag. “Which one is Annie Botinelli?”
He pointed at a tall woman with curly blond hair. She was talking to Theodore, one of the new agents. Maybe Nic’s luck was holding. She was with them in two long strides.
“Excuse me, Theodore, let me take over for you. I want to interview this woman myself.”
He looked confused, but nodded and left.
“How far had you gotten in telling him what happened?”
“I was telling him about the robbers. Not that there’s much to tell. The minute they fired their guns, I knew we were in trouble. We’ve been robbed before, but I’ve never known anyone who was in a robbery where a customer was killed.” Her voice shook.
“And that was your customer, right?”
“One of them. It was a woman and her sister. One went to the bathroom and the other one was shot. She seemed so nice, too, and they were both close. You could tell. They even looked like each other.”
“Look, Annie, I’m not asking you to lie.” Which was a lie. “I’m just asking you to leave something out. Whoever killed Lindsay thought they were killing Allison.”
“I don’t understand. Wasn’t it just a random shooting?”
“We don’t know that yet. I’m going to interview you and take down all your information. And when you talk to anyone else, just tell them exactly what happened—how these men came in, what they said, what they did, and how as they left, they shot your client. The only part I’m asking you to leave out is that Lindsay was here. Just for right now, don’t tell anyone else but me that the woman killed was here with her sister. We’re going to say it was Allison who was killed and then put her into protective custody for the time being—but that’s on a need-to-know basis only.” She said we’re as if she meant the FBI. “We can’t risk the killer finding out he shot the wrong woman.”
Annie hesitated. “What about the other people who were here when it happened? I won’t tell anyone, but what about everybody else?”
“All they’re going to be focused on is the robbery. On the guns. Once people see guns, they don’t pay attention to anything else.” This had been Nic’s experience, but now, when Allison’s life depended on it, would it hold? “Trust me, even their descriptions of the robbers are going to be all over the map. The chances that one of them will mention you had two customers, and not one, a few minutes before these guys walked in and started shooting are nil.”
Looking dazed, Annie nodded. But Nic knew she wouldn’t keep quiet forever.
CHAPTER 26
Feeling as if she were floating above her own body, Allison had stumbled forward through the bank’s parking lot. Past the police cars, past the ambulance, past the gawkers. Her sweaty feet slipped in her shoes, but at the same time she shook with chills. Nicole’s hand under her elbow was the only thing that kept her on her feet. Nicole had warned her in a whisper to keep her head down, but Allison didn’t have to fake it.
Her sister was dead.
Her baby sister.
Lindsay.
Dead.
She’d kept staggering forward, but her mind was still back in th
e bank, reliving what had just happened a few minutes earlier.
After she had left the safety of the bathroom, Allison had crouched in the hallway between the two restroom doors and tried to figure out what to do. Slowly, slowly she had raised her head until she could see through the small glass window set into the door.
Where was Lindsay? Why had her sister’s voice been abruptly silenced? She could see only a small section of the loan area with a loan officer and two customers, all on their feet with their hands raised. But no Lindsay. All three people were staring openmouthed at something just out of Allison’s range of vision.
While she couldn’t see the tellers, she was pretty sure it was one of them that kept screaming and screaming. A few of the tellers’ customers were in her line of sight. One man in a pinstriped suit was crouched on the floor, while a middle-aged woman had her arm around an old lady with a walker. All of them were staring in the same direction the others had, at the spot Allison couldn’t see.
A second gunshot roared and faded. The shock of it stole Allison’s breath. Now everyone was shrieking and moaning, all of them staring at whatever it was. She risked raising her head another inch, but it wasn’t far enough for her to see anything.
A short, plump man dressed in black suddenly burst from the direction of the teller area and into her line of vision, running for the door. Allison’s first incongruous thought was how hot his black ski mask must be. He had a gun in one hand and a second in his waistband, and he was clutching a bulging white pillowcase. And here came a second man, this one from the loan area. He was also wearing a mask and dark clothes. Taller and more fit, he loped after the first man, a gun in his fist.
“Don’t anyone try to be a hero,” the second man shouted back over his shoulder. “You’ve seen what happens.” And then both men were through the front door and out of her line of vision.
The bank robbery was over, Allison realized. Over almost before it had begun. But the teller didn’t stop screaming. And the loan officer’s expression didn’t ease. Her lips were still pulled back from her teeth in an expression that mingled horror and disbelief. The old woman in front of the teller’s window was crossing herself. And everyone was still staring at that same spot.
Staring at someone, she realized. They weren’t staring at something but at someone.
Allison shouldered open the door. Then she stopped so abruptly she almost fell.
In front of Annie’s desk, Lindsay lay on her back. Her eyes were closed. One hand was limp on her chest, the other flung back to rest by her head, her fingers curled like a sleeping child’s.
No. Not Lindsay. No. There wasn’t much blood, just some bright splashes on the white blouse she had borrowed from Allison that morning. Maybe she had simply fainted.
Then Allison saw two dark holes. Right over her sister’s heart.
Lindsay’s eyes fluttered open. Her gaze sharpened when she saw Allison’s face. “You!” she said urgently. Allison read her lips more than heard the word.
Falling to her knees, she pressed her hand over the wounds as she put her ear next to her sister’s lips. Lindsay’s hand rose and touched the side of Allison’s face. Her fingertips smelled of coppery blood.
Lindsay labored to speak. “He . . . thought . . . I . . . was . . . you.”
Allison pulled back and stared at her sister. Scarlet blood was frothing on her lips. Her skin was bone white. “What?”
Each word was followed by a panting gasp. “He said . . . say . . . hello . . . to . . . Cassidy . . . Allison.”
Allison stilled. “Did he say anything else, Lindsay?”
She watched her sister’s lips, but they didn’t move anymore. Her eyes were open, but fixed. A bubble of blood appeared between her lips and then burst. But that bubble meant she was still breathing, didn’t it? Didn’t it?
“Lindsay? Lindsay?” Allison patted her cheek, gently at first and then harder. She couldn’t even form a prayer, just a wordless cry for help. “Stay with me! Stay with me!”
And for a moment the spark of life returned to Lindsay’s eyes. Reaching up with one wavering finger, she touched Allison’s cross. Then her gaze shifted to something past Allison, something above her, and she smiled, her expression radiant.
Then her eyes went fixed and still. Her face slackened and settled back, empty of all expression.
Allison’s frantic fingers searched for the pulse in her sister’s neck. Searched and found nothing. Lindsay was dead.
A second later a wave of nausea had hit Allison so forcefully that she had barely made it back to the bathroom. She had vomited again and again, vomited as if the evil was actually inside her instead of loose in the world. Five minutes later the police had burst in. Five minutes too late for Lindsay.
As Leif and Nicole hurried her into the car, Allison tried to make herself believe that what had happened back in the bank was real. Believe that it was really supposed to have been her, lying with her eyes open, a sterile sheet over her face. Not playing dead but really dead. As dead as poor Lindsay was now.
Nicole talked about Marshall, about the loan officer, but Allison was mostly on autopilot, not really in her body.
After Nicole left, Leif touched Allison’s arm and said, “Keep your head down like you’re looking for something on the floor. I need to get you out of here without anyone noticing you.”
Allison did as she was told, her face pressed against one knee. As the car took a quick series of sharp turns, she fought off waves of dizziness. Her memory kept replaying what had happened. The horror on people’s faces. The fear that had almost paralyzed her. How her bones had turned to water when she finally saw what they were looking at. The way Lindsay had used her last bit of breath to warn her. The bright blood that had bubbled between her lips.
“Okay, you can sit up now,” Leif said after a few minutes. “I looped back to make sure that no one was following us.”
Allison straightened up. She hadn’t thought of that, that someone might be watching the bank, making sure the killing had gone off without a hitch. If Nicole’s plan didn’t work, then sooner or later they would come after her again. And she would be the one dying on cheap blue carpeting.
“Somebody put some planning into this,” Leif said. “Who knew you were going to be at the bank today?”
Allison barely heard him. An endless loop kept playing in her head. Lindsay touching her cross and then slumping back to the floor. The light going out of her eyes. The feel of the cool, slick skin of her throat, a throat that no longer held a pulse.
“Allison.” Leif shook her shoulder, summoning her back to reality. “Help me out. Who knew you were going to be at the bank today?”
She thought of Lindsay’s joyful pride. “Lindsay probably told a bunch of people. She was always talking about her coffee cart.”
“It doesn’t matter how many people she told, because none of them would have shown up looking for you,” Leif pointed out. “These guys obviously didn’t know your sister was going to be there. So who else knew?”
“Marshall knew, our mom knew . . . and . . .” Allison realized what was missing. “And people in my office. We all keep our calendars online. Dan likes us to. It makes meeting planning a lot easier.”
“Did your calendar say you would be at the bank with Lindsay?”
Allison concentrated. “No. Just something like Loan Officer, 2 p.m., Seventh Avenue Oregon Federal.”
“And who has access to your calendar? Just the secretaries?”
“No. Everyone in the office.”
Leif’s eyes widened. “How many people is that?”
Allison tried to focus. “Probably over a hundred.”
Leif swore under his breath. “I think that it’s possible someone at your job gave out the information.”
She straightened up. “Knowing I was going to be killed?”
“Probably not. It’s likely that someone just got pretexted. This guy could have called around, pretended to be someone he’s not, gone fish
ing until he caught someone who was a little too chatty. But it’s also possible that whoever gave up your schedule knew exactly what they were doing, and now they think you’re dead. That’s why we can’t give anyone a reason to think differently.” Leif said what she had been thinking. “Because if they know you’re still alive, they’ll come back. Only next time, they’ll make sure you really are dead.”
Allison was at risk, but she realized Leif was putting himself in a different kind of danger by helping her. “This isn’t safe for you either. I appreciate everything you’ve done, but I think you should just drop me off at a bus stop. Give me the address, and I’ll figure out where Ophelia’s house is on my own.”
“What are you talking about, Allison? Of course I’m going to drive you there. You’ve just had the biggest shock in the world. You could barely walk to the car.”
Some of the strength came back into Allison as she focused, not on the dead, but on the living. “Nicole told me she already got a lecture from Bond about nosing around Cassidy’s death. You could both end your careers if Bond finds out you helped me switch identities with Lindsay.”
“It doesn’t matter.” A muscle tensed in Leif’s jaw. “You’re not safe if the truth gets out. And Nic genuinely thought that was you dead on the floor back there, at least at first. So it’s not even that much of a lie. More like a misunderstanding.”
Allison had a feeling Bond wouldn’t see it that way. “Isn’t someone going to ask questions about why you left the bank?”
“I’m not on the bank robbery squad, so it’s not like I’m expected to be there. With luck, things are still so chaotic that no one even noticed us leaving. But the killing of a bystander at a bank robbery is going to make this everyone’s business. And killing a federal prosecutor? They’re going to want all hands on deck.”
Allison remembered the reading of Ecclesiastes at Cassidy’s funeral. There was a time for weeping and a time for war. She pulled her shoulders back and gritted her teeth. No more weeping. Not right now. Right now, it was war. She gritted her teeth.
“This guy just killed my baby sister. He killed her just when she was turning her life around. I’m not going to rest until I get him. And when I do, I’m going to make sure he goes to jail and stays there for the rest of his life.”