by Mike Ryan
“It’s number four.”
“You sure?” Happ asked.
“Positive. That’s it.”
“OK. I thought so.”
“Who’s it belong to?”
“Well, we did get a plate number, and it comes back as belonging to a Marianne Werther.”
“Who’s that?”
“No criminal history. Records I have show that she’s a freelance marketing consultant.”
“Which means what exactly?”
“That she gives marketing advice, I guess?”
“Does that mean she travels around a lot?”
“Could be.”
“Nothing nefarious showed up in your records?”
“Nothing at first glance. I didn’t do a deep dive, though. There’s nothing outstanding on her, she’s not wanted, and she has no history. That doesn’t mean nothing’s there. Just means there’s never been a reason for anyone to look yet.”
“Well, there’s a reason now,” Bridge said. “Because if that’s her car, then she’s got some explaining to do as to why someone took shots at me. Can you send over what you got on her?”
“Yeah, give me a few minutes on that. You want me to go talk to her?”
“No, I’d rather do that myself.”
“You might want some backup in case.”
“I’ve got backup.”
“I meant the federal kind.”
“Maybe next time. Since she’s a woman, it’d probably be a good idea to bring Nic along. She has a way of getting through to the opposite sex when I can’t. If it’s just two dudes there with her, and she’s a smart enough criminal to never show up on anyone’s radar, then she might not admit anything with us.”
“You’re taking a big leap there, aren’t you? Just because it’s her car doesn’t mean she knows what’s going on. Maybe she’s out of the country. Maybe it was stolen. Maybe she lent it to her boyfriend for the night. Could be a lot of things.”
“That’s a lot of maybes there. But you forgot one.”
“What’s that?”
“Maybe she’s involved.”
“Yeah. Well, let me know if you need anything.”
“Just the file.”
“Sending it over.”
Bridge hung up and sat there, waiting for the file on Werther to show up in his inbox.
“What about me?” Nicole asked.
“Huh?”
“I heard my name mentioned.”
“Oh. Eric found the car that shot at us outside Bevell’s place.”
“And?”
“We’re gonna go talk to the owner.”
“We are?”
“Yep.”
“Who is it?”
“Woman named Marianne Werther.”
“She friend or foe?”
“Don’t know. As of now, I’d say to be on your guard.”
“Right. Foe.”
“We’ll see.”
Bridge downloaded her file and looked at it. There were no obvious red flags. She used her passport a lot, traveling at least once or twice every month for the last few years. She’d been issued a few parking and speeding tickets, but none in the last five years. There was nothing in her package to suggest she was anything other than a regular person who may have gotten mixed up in something beyond her comprehension. They would find out soon enough.
Nicole got ready within a few minutes, and they left for Werther’s place. She lived in a three-story end-unit condo in a nice neighborhood. As they pulled up in front of the house, their eyes were immediately drawn to a vehicle a couple of cars away.
“You see what I see?” Nicole asked.
“I see it.”
“That’s the car.”
“It sure is.”
“That means she’s involved.”
Bridge thought it was likely, but he wasn’t ready to say definitively yet. “Probably. Let’s not jump to conclusions before talking to her.”
“She’s guilty.”
“Now how do you know that?”
“Her car was used in a high-profile incident.”
“Yeah? Could’ve been her boyfriend or something.”
“If her boyfriend is out shooting people, I’m sure she’s aware of what’s going on.”
“Not necessarily. History is littered with people who hid major secrets from their husbands, wives, girlfriends, whatever.”
“Nobody lends their car out unless they know where a person’s going.”
“Well, maybe the guy lied to her and said he was going to the library or someplace else.”
Nicole gave him a look and shook her head. “Trust me on this, Luke. She knows.”
“How can you be so sure when you haven’t even looked or talked to her yet?”
“Intuition.”
“That’s not a thing.”
“It’s a thing.”
“It’s not a thing.”
“It’s totally a thing.”
“OK, whatever.” Bridge got out of the car, mumbling to himself. “It’s not a thing.”
“I heard that. And it totally is.”
Bridge put his fingers on the handle of his pistol, which was tucked into the back of his pants and covered by his shirt. As they walked toward the condo, he suddenly stopped.
“What?” Nicole asked.
“Are you packing?”
“Am I packing what?”
Bridge’s eyes immediately went to her chest. “Well, uh, duh, the uh…” He then motioned to his side, trying to think of the word for a gun.
“I’m always packing.”
“I can see that, I know. But, um…” Bridge motioned and pointed to her, then to him, then his side, then back to her. “I mean… um… the, uh… I meant…”
“You mean a gun?”
“Uh, yeah, that.”
“It took you that long just to ask if I had a gun?”
“I got distracted.”
“Obviously.”
“Why do you look so beautiful all the time?”
Nicole smiled. “You’re becoming a charmer.”
Bridge smiled back. “I’m trying.” They started walking again. “Seriously, though, are you packing?”
“What kind of question is that? Are you serious? I’m always packing. You know that.”
“Good.”
“Worried that I’m right, aren’t you?”
“No,” Bridge said.
“See, you got it in your mind that she’s involved and maybe her boyfriend’s up there with her and we’re gonna get in a shootout, aren’t ya?”
“No.”
“Just admit it. You’re following my intuition.”
“No, I’m not. And it’s still not a thing.”
“It’s still a thing and always will be. Just admit that I’m right.”
“I’m not admitting anything yet,” Bridge said. “I’m just making sure we have all our bases covered. If something happens up there, then I’ll admit you’re right.”
“Promise?”
“We don’t even know if she has a boyfriend.”
“She does.”
“How do you know?”
“The old intuition thing is kicking into high gear.”
Bridge stopped and sighed as his girlfriend kept walking. “That’s not a thing.”
10
Nicole banged loudly on Werther’s front door, drawing a look from her boyfriend.
“What?”
“You trying to wake up the neighborhood?” Bridge asked.
“It’s the middle of the day. Everyone’s awake.”
“They certainly are now.”
Nicole kept banging away. “Marianne Werther!”
“If you’re trying to scare her away before she answers the door, you’re really doing a good job of it.”
“Her car’s here. She’s in there. I just want her to answer the door.”
“Ever think that maybe she went for a walk? We do live in a city where that happens, you know.”
�
��She’s in there.” Nicole banged away some more.
“Ever think that she is in there and maybe now doesn’t want to answer the door because she thinks there’s a crazed lunatic banging on her door?”
Nicole slowly turned and looked at him. “Do you want to talk to her or not?”
“I do. Preferably without her already on edge and irritated with the people who almost knocked her door down.”
“Well, then maybe she should answer it.”
“Some people don’t answer the door for strangers, you know.”
Nicole was about to respond with another sarcastic comment, but they could hear someone moving around inside. Then they heard the door unlock. Then it opened. Standing there was Marianne Werther. She was fairly tall and thin, with long black hair. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties, though she had a youthful-looking face.
“Yes? Can I help you?”
“Ms. Werther?” Bridge asked.
“Yes. Who are you?”
“My name’s Luke and this is my partner, Nicole.”
“What do you want?”
“We’d like to talk to you about an incident that happened the other day.”
“Are you the police?”
“No, we’re sort of like, part of a joint task force with the FBI.”
“Where are your credentials?”
“We’re undercover. We don’t have credentials.”
Werther smiled. “Then I’m not talking to you.”
She started closing the door, but was stopped when Bridge blocked it from shutting with his foot. “I can have my Special Agent Happ down here in five minutes, if that’s what you prefer. Or you can just talk to us and we’ll be out of here. If I call him, the process might be messier… and take a lot longer.”
Werther sighed and opened the door wide again. “What is it that you want?”
“A couple of days ago your car was seen at the scene of a shooting.”
“That’s impossible.”
“It is, huh?” Nicole said. “Well, it was. And we’re the ones who saw it.”
Werther didn’t seem flustered at all. She gave a sort of shrug, seeming unconcerned. “You must’ve seen something else.”
“Oh, it was your car all right,” Bridge said.
“OK, well, if that’s all…”
Bridge took a picture out of the folder he was carrying with him, showing her the car from the camera photo that Happ had sent him. “Looks a lot like yours, doesn’t it?”
“There’s a lot of cars that look like that. That’s not proof.”
Bridge reached into the folder and removed another picture. This one had a full picture of the license plate. He showed that one to Werther too. “How ‘bout this one? That proof enough for you?”
Werther looked at the pictures and cleared her throat. She was trying to think of a good explanation.
“Mind if we come in and talk?” Nicole asked.
“No, no,” Werther said, giving a nervous smile. “Sorry, the place is a mess, and I’m in the middle of cleaning it.”
“About the car?” Bridge asked.
“I don’t know anything about it.”
“So that’s the way you wanna play this thing? Ignorance?”
Nicole tapped her boyfriend on the arm. “She’s not gonna tell us anything. Let’s just sit on her and wait for the rest of the boys to get down here. We can get a warrant, search her place, then Happ can interrogate her downtown.”
“Might be for the best.”
“OK. Wait.” Werther took a deep breath as she tried to think of a story. “OK. I don’t know exactly what happened the other night. I wasn’t driving the car.”
“Who was?”
“My brother Mark.”
“You loaned him the car?”
Werther closed her eyes and nodded. “Yes.”
“Why?”
Werther shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve always had a soft spot for him. He’s my younger brother, but he’s constantly in trouble, always getting into something. He came to me the other night and asked if he could borrow my car for a few hours. I asked him what he needed it for, but he wouldn’t tell me.”
“So you gave it to him, anyway?” Nicole asked.
“Yes. Like I said, I have a hard time saying no to him.”
“And he gave no indication what he needed it for?”
“No.”
“How did he seem when he returned it?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see him when he brought it back. I was already asleep. He put the keys through the mail slot on the door.”
“Well, whoever was in this car shot at us, just outside the house of a private investigator named Darren Bevell,” Bridge said. “That name ring any bells for you?”
Werther shook her head. “No.”
“What would your brother be doing there?”
“I honestly don’t know. He hangs around a lot of people who are bad for him. He just can’t break away from them. I’ve tried to help him, but… it’s just no use. He doesn’t listen.”
“Where would your brother be now?”
“I don’t know. He moves around a lot.”
“Well, where’s he living?”
“Like I said, he moves around a lot. He goes from apartments to hotels to apartments to motels constantly. He’s never in the same place for more than a week.”
“So how do you talk?”
“Honestly, it’s usually him calling me wanting a favor.”
“What about the people he’s mixed up with?” Nicole asked.
“I don’t know their names.”
Nicole asked her a few more questions, basically getting the same story from Werther. As they talked, Bridge carefully studied Werther’s actions and mannerisms. She was good. Too good. She talked like someone who was trained in interrogation tactics. He knew that everything coming out of her mouth was a lie, but she said it so convincingly. A lesser trained person wouldn’t have noticed or believed anything other than what she was saying. But Bridge knew. For one thing, according to her file, she had no brother. But she put on a good performance.
If they were going to get anything of value out of Werther, Bridge knew they were going to have to up the ante. They’d have to do what was usually frowned upon in their business. They would have to let people know they were coming.
“What about Greg Kenny?” Bridge blurted out.
“Who?”
“Greg Kenny. You know him?”
Werther grimaced and shook her head. “No. Sorry. Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“I got a picture of him too.” Bridge held the picture for her. She took the picture and looked at it closely.
“No. Sorry. I’ve never seen him.”
“Ever hear the name Stash before?”
“Stash?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that like a nickname or something?”
Bridge shrugged. “Could be.”
Werther shook her head again. “No. Never heard of him. You think they might be involved with my brother?”
Bridge took the photo back from her. “Possible.”
“Well, if that’ll be all?”
“I suppose for now.”
A serious expression came over Werther’s face. “I’m not going to wish you luck in finding my brother, but if he really was involved in shooting at you… I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re not hurt.”
“Thanks.”
“I assume you’re going to keep looking for him?”
“That’s the plan.”
“I know it’s what you have to do and all, but if you could do me a favor, and try not to hurt him?”
“That’ll be up to him,” Nicole replied.
“I know. If you could just do what you can to help him… I’d appreciate it.” It almost looked like Werther’s eyes were beginning to tear up.
“Thanks for the help,” Bridge said.
“Sure.”
Bridge and Nicole turned around and walked down the steps. Once
they reached the sidewalk, Bridge turned around to look at the door again. His eyes glanced at the windows, seeing a curtain move.
“I guess our next move is finding this brother,” Nicole said.
“Nope.”
“What do you mean, no?”
Bridge started walking back to the car. “She doesn’t have a brother.”
Nicole stood there, letting the words sink in. She then ran after him. “What do you mean she doesn’t have a brother?”
“Eric sent me her file. She’s an only child..”
“Then why did you let her ramble on like that and not call her out on it?”
“Strategy.”
“You wanna let me in on it?”
They both got back into their car. “Pull out and then come back around the block.”
“What for?”
“I want her to see that we’re leaving.”
“But we’re not?”
“Nope.”
“What are we doing?”
“We’re gonna follow her.”
“What makes you think she’s going somewhere?”
Bridge looked at her and smiled. “Intuition.”
“Oh, now who’s the funny one?” Nicole started the car and pulled out into traffic, quickly driving down the road so she could double back. “You wanna tell me now what you’re thinking?”
“If we called her out on not having a brother, she’d just clam up, right? I mean, she wasn’t going to tell us anything.”
“Yeah, but she’d know we were on to her.”
“She knows that anyway. Did you see the performance she gave? She was very good. Like she’d been coached on how to do that.”
“What are you saying?”
“That she’s not what she appears to be. She’s involved in something. Maybe she’s an agent, maybe she’s involved with Kenny and he taught her, I don’t know. That story about her brother was just to throw us off the trail for a few hours.”
“Giving her enough time to run.”
Bridge nodded. “If I’m right, and she’s deep into this, she knows her cover’s blown. She can’t stay there. She’s gotta go to wherever her safe spot is.”
“And we’ll be there to follow.”
“That’s the plan.”
“You know, sometimes you seem like you know what you’re doing.”
Bridge smiled. “Sometimes.”
They came back around the block, parking a little way down the street, though they still had a view of Werther’s condo. They only had to wait a few minutes. Just as Bridge had predicted, Werther jetted out of the home and ran to her car, quickly getting inside.