by Mike Ryan
“According to the police report, it looked like he was killed somewhere else and dumped there.”
“So?”
“So that would mean it was probably premeditated.”
“Not necessarily. Just means that wherever he was really killed, the person who did it didn’t want his body found there.”
“Did you see what he did for a living?”
“Traveling salesman or something, wasn’t he? Sold encyclopedias or something.”
Nicole put the papers down and gave her partner the kind of look she usually did when he said something so ridiculous. “Encyclopedias? Really?”
“What? Don’t they do that anymore?”
“I don’t think so.”
As Bridge sat there staring at the PI’s house, something else occurred to him. Something he really didn’t want to think about. He hoped he was wrong. But anytime someone said they were an international traveling salesman, his mind immediately went to the agency. Traveling salesman. It was a cover that he used many times in his days at the CIA. He finally let out a loud sigh, drawing a look from his girlfriend.
“What was that for?”
“Nothing,” Bridge replied.
“Don’t give me that. I know your sighs.”
“You know my sighs? Don’t you have anything else to do with your time than analyze me sighing?”
“Oh, this coming from the person who counts how many times someone knocks on a door!”
Bridge let out a fake cough. “Well, um, you know, that’s different.”
“How?”
“Uh, it just is.”
Nicole rolled her eyes. “Uh huh. So what are you sighing for?”
Bridge didn’t want to think about—or talk about—anything that would lead him deeper into the rabbit hole. He was trying not to think too hard about this case. If he did, the more he analyzed it, the more he was afraid of what he might find. And he actually would get drawn into it.
“Spill. Now.”
Bridge sighed again. “Fine. I was just thinking about him being a traveling salesman, him being killed somewhere else, his body being dumped in an alley; a lot of things are adding up.”
“What are they equaling?”
“That maybe there’s something deeper in play here.”
“Such as?”
“Well, maybe it’s my old CIA training, but a lot of it is starting to sound familiar.”
“It’s just coming to you now? You’ve had two days to think about it,” Nicole said.
“I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to add it up. I just wanted to let it go. But since we’re here, since you’re forcing this thing on me…”
“I’m not forcing anything on you.”
“Well, now that I’m actually focusing on this thing… a lot is coming into focus.”
“Want to sharpen the picture for me?”
“You have a traveling salesman…”
“We got that part.”
“Will you let me finish?”
“Go ahead.”
“We’ve got a traveling salesman, a murder, a body that was killed elsewhere and dumped, a murder that was so clean the police have no leads and have made no progress in a year.”
“And?”
“Then we have a brother who won’t give up, and a private investigator who starts looking into things, then the PI goes missing.”
“So what’s that tell you?”
“This wasn’t some mugging or a fight over a girl or drugs or something stupid like that. This has all the makings of a professional hit.”
“That’s kind of a big leap to take there, don’t you think?”
“Police have no leads, right?”
“Right.”
“If it was a spur-of-the-moment thing or wasn’t planned, there would be some kind of evidence, right? There always is when it’s spontaneous. People panic. They don’t think straight. They make mistakes. There was none of that with Abbott, right?”
“Clean in all aspects, so it seems.”
“So who else makes clean kills?” Bridge asked.
Nicole cleared her throat, thinking of the possibilities. “Uh, well, could be the mob or some other criminal element.”
“Or it could be some kind of government body that uses traveling salesmen as cover identities.”
“You’re saying the CIA killed this guy on our own soil?”
Bridge shrugged. “I’m saying maybe they’re somehow involved.”
“You blow my mind, you really do. I mean, among other things. But how you go from not wanting anything to do with this case, to going right to the CIA having this guy killed is amazing. I mean, some people just dip their toe in the water to see if it’s warm first, but not you, no, you just dive right in.”
“My mind works differently than others.”
“You can say that again.”
“That’s part of what makes me special.”
“I won’t argue there.”
“You also know I might be right.”
Now Nicole did the sighing. “Maybe. There’s a big chunk of stuff missing that we need to fill in before we can make that conclusion, I think. Like where the PI is.”
“That’s another thing. If this guy’s missing, we both know why that probably is.”
Nicole’s voice became sad. “It’s because he’s probably dead.”
“Right. There’s no other reason he’d be missing for three days.”
“Unless he’s hurt and in the hospital or something.”
“And he just happens to be in a coma?”
“Something like that.”
“Or maybe some other case he was working on, like ten years ago, someone decided to come after him now, coincidentally, the same time he was starting to work on this thing?”
“A lot of coincidences here, huh?”
“Too many. I thought you didn’t want to work on this thing.”
“I don’t.”
“Seems like you’re getting into it,” Nicole said.
Bridge took a deep breath, then looked at his girlfriend. It was one of those looks he gave when he was being sucked into something that he didn’t want to do but just couldn’t help himself. He glanced back at the house, then leaned over closer to the window. Judging from his body language, Nicole could tell that something caught his eye.
“What is it?”
“I just saw a light in there,” Bridge answered.
Nicole immediately looked toward the house. It was just as dark as it had been. “You sure?”
“Positive. It only flashed for a second or two.”
“Maybe it was a car driving by or something. The headlight went through the window.”
Bridge shook his head. “No. This was inside.” He looked over at the folder that was still sitting on Nicole’s lap. “This guy had no family?”
Nicole opened the folder and started reading it again. “No wife or kids. Parents are alive. He was an only child.”
“Maybe it’s the parents sneaking in.” He then glanced at Nicole with a look of disbelief. She gave him the same face.
“You really believe that?”
“Uh, well, I didn’t say I believed it. Just said maybe it was.”
“Pretty sure if his parents were dropping by, they’d know where a light switch was.”
“Probably.”
“So what do you wanna do?”
“I don’t want to do anything.”
“What do you feel you should do?”
Bridge sighed. “I feel like we should go over to that house and see who’s sneaking around and if it ties in to Gary Abbott’s murder.”
Nicole smiled. “I thought that’d be your answer.”
They got out of the car and headed over to the house. It was a modest house, two floors, with a single garage attached to the side of the vinyl exterior. There were two bedrooms upstairs and one downstairs, which Darren Bevell converted to an office for his PI work. As they approached the house, Nicole wondere
d what the plan was. If Bridge had one, he hadn’t shared it yet.
“Do you have a plan for this?”
“Nope,” Bridge replied.
“Oh. Good. How we getting in?”
“Probably the same way the other guy did. Through the back.”
“Makes sense. I guess he’s not just gonna waltz out the front door.”
“Unlikely.”
“How we gonna take him?”
“Whatever way possible,” Bridge said.
They made their way around the house and stopped once they reached the back door. Bridge put his hand on the knob and slowly pushed it open. He snapped his head around to look at Nicole.
“It’s not locked,” he whispered.
Nicole whispered back. “Well, if someone’s in there, did you really think it would be?”
Bridge gave her a face, then pushed the door open more as the two of them went inside. They walked through the darkened house, not using their flashlights or flicking on any lights, since it would give their presence away to whoever else was in the house. After coming in through the back, they found themselves in an enclosed patio, which then led into the kitchen area. Thinking he heard something, Bridge put his hand out to prevent Nicole from going any further. He tapped his ear to signal her to listen. The noise was faint, but it sounded as if papers were being rooted through or being thrown about a room. Bridge then pointed in the direction he thought it was coming from. It was the downstairs office.
They moved in that direction, making sure they made no sound. Once they got near the office, they stood outside the door, listening to what was going on. Someone was definitely rooting around. And it sounded quite messy.
Bridge and Nicole started communicating with their hands, though it was an animated conversation. It was quite the hand argument. Bridge initially wanted to go in alone and have Nicole wait where she was, but she wanted them both to go in together. After arguing with their hands for a minute, she finally relented and gave in, even though she thought it was a mistake.
With their plans settled, Bridge took a deep breath, then quickly snuck inside the room, putting his hand on the wall to feel for the light switch. He finally found it and flipped it on. A man clad in black attire, including a ski mask, suddenly turned around from the corner of the room, where he was rifling through the file cabinet.
“Whatcha doing?” Bridge asked, a smug look on his face for interrupting the burglar’s plans. He then looked at the rest of the room. “Look at this. Was this really necessary? You made a mess of it.”
The masked man stepped away from the cabinet and toward the center of the room. He then pulled out a gun and pointed it at Bridge, who immediately did the same. They stood there, guns pointed at each other in a standoff.
“Get out of my way,” the man said.
“Can’t do that,” Bridge replied.
“I’ll kill you if I have to.”
Nicole then appeared in the frame of the door, getting down on one knee to change the angle that the masked man had to shoot on. It would have been difficult for him to take out both people before they opened up on him.
“Don’t think you will,” Nicole said.
“What are you doing here?” Bridge asked.
“Probably the same thing you are,” the man answered.
“Who are you?”
The man tilted his head. “That’s on a need-to-know basis.”
“What happened to Darren Bevell?”
“Did something happen to him?”
“Is he dead?” Bridge asked.
“Why don’t you ask him?”
“I feel like we have a gap here.”
“Step aside and let me pass and no one has to get hurt.”
“Right now, the only one getting hurt is you.”
The man shook his head. “I can take you out right now.”
Bridge shrugged. “Maybe so. But if you do that, you’re not leaving here either. Because she’s an excellent shot, and she’ll kill you before you can do the same to her.”
“I’m OK with that. Because I’m not being taken, I’m not answering questions, and I’m not getting stuck here.”
“So what do you propose then?”
“I told you. You let me pass or me and you won’t see another sunrise.”
“You’re willing to go down for whatever this is?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting.”
“So what’s it gonna be?”
Bridge took his hand off his gun and motioned toward the door. The masked man slowly started walking in that direction.
“Give me space,” the man said, not liking how the two of them were crowding the door.
Bridge took a few steps back, while Nicole got to her feet and also moved back a little. As the man got near the door, he gave a final look to Bridge.
“Maybe next time.”
“There won’t be a next time,” Bridge said.
He suddenly lunged at the man, grabbing a hold of his neck. The two started wrestling around, eventually dropping to the floor as Bridge pulled down his opponent with him. They gave each other a couple of punches, neither of which had any mustard behind it and were easily shrugged off by both of them. After a minute of rolling around on the ground, they got back to their feet, where they started exchanging shots. Bridge got in a couple, then the man got in a few of his own. Bridge was actually stunned for a moment and dropped to one knee as he clutched his stomach. The man moved in to continue his assault, but Nicole spun the man around and started delivering a few shots of her own. She used her background in jiu jitsu to kick him a few times and keep him off-balance. At one point, though, he grabbed her leg and gave her a powerful right hand that landed flush on the side of her face, knocking her down.
Bridge regained his energy and rejoined the fight, with both men getting in an equal number of shots. After several minutes, the man finally got the upper hand on Bridge, picking him up and slamming him down on a small wooden table by the door. As he picked Bridge up, Bridge put his hand on the man’s head and pulled the mask off of his face. Bridge then went crashing through the table, breaking it apart into pieces. The man quickly looked around for his gun, though he didn’t initially see where it went. And he wasn’t staying around to look for it. Nicole looked up and saw the man’s blond hair. It wasn’t a military or government cut, but it wasn’t long either. She only got a short glimpse of his face before he sprinted out of the house as Bridge and Nicole lay there in pain.
Nicole was the first one back to her feet, though it felt like someone had taken a hammer to her face. She put her finger on her left cheek, though it hurt to touch it. She then looked down at Bridge, who was moving, but barely. It felt like he’d just been in a three-round MMA fight and got dominated the entire match. Nicole rushed down by his side, holding the back of his head.
“Are you OK?”
Bridge let out a moan. “I think this is what it feels like.”
“What?”
“To be run over by a truck.”
“You didn’t get run over by a truck.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“You did get your ass beat though.”
“Well, I didn’t notice you doing your MMA thing over there either.”
Bridge started moving around a little more and Nicole tried helping him back to his feet.
“Can you make it?”
Bridge held the small of his back. “I think my back’s broken.”
Nicole looked down at what was left of the table. “You sure put that thing out of commission.”
“Are you sure I’m not dead?”
“Pretty sure.”
“‘Cause it feels like every bone in my body is broken.”
“You always were a little dramatic.”
“I’d like to see you get thrown through a table and see how you react.”
“I’ll pass. I’ll live vicariously through you on this one.”
After a minute had passed, though he wa
s still sore, Bridge started moving his arms around and tried to stretch out his back. Nicole rubbed his shoulders.
“Looks like someone’s gonna need something to relax them later.”
“I don’t think my body could take your version of relaxing,” Bridge said.
“I promise to be gentle.”
“Remember what you told me about not regretting taking this job?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, it’s official.”
“What is?”
“I definitely now regret it.”
3
Bridge and Nicole walked around the office for a few seconds before he hunched over and put his hands on his back. Nicole grabbed hold of him and walked him over to a chair in the corner of the room.
“Here. Just sit tight for a few minutes.”
Bridge opened and closed his eyes slowly a few times, hoping that would magically transform the pain and take it out of his system. It didn’t work. “Do I look as bad as I feel?”
Nicole looked at him and nodded. “Well… I’ve seen you look better.”
“I think I hurt so much that I can’t even tell if that was a dirty comment or not.”
Nicole laughed. “It was kind of in the middle.”
“Oh.”
“You just sit there for a few minutes. I’ll start looking around.”
“We may not have much time.”
Nicole started looking through the desk. “Well, I doubt that guy’s calling the police.”
“What if he has friends?”
“Then we probably would have seen them by now?”
“He was looking through the file cabinet.”
Nicole glanced around. “Looks like he checked everywhere. Wonder what he was looking for?”
“Has to be something that Bevell was working on.”
“But if he had more than one case going, then it could have been anything. Doesn’t necessarily tie in with our thing.”
“Too many coincidences here, Nic. You know I don’t believe in them. Everything with this guy just so happens to take place after he takes on the Abbott case. It’s too much to believe it’s got anything to do with anything else.”
Nicole started going through some papers. “I don’t even know what I should be looking for.”
Bridge was able to drag himself out of the chair, though he still wasn’t feeling too good. But he couldn’t just sit there and let Nicole do all the work. Especially since they didn’t belong there.