Enrique must be worried by now—or angry, maybe both.
She stared up at the sky. The sun was high. It was still afternoon, but what day?
Remembering the toys in the corner, she rubbed at the tears. She’d blown it. Now she would have to tell Zink she’d failed.
She stood, swayed back and forth, but didn’t fall. Confusion reigned. Why had Ryan let her go?
Just as she was helping her friend, Ryan was helping Michael.
She’d lied to him to get what she wanted. Was that any better than what he’d done? It was becoming harder for her to justify the means, no matter the goal.
Which way was town?
Soon, it would be dark and she’d be out here with the native wildlife. Well, she wouldn’t just stand here and wait for a bear to find her.
Show me the way, God. Please. Turning, she looked for anything that might lead to town or a house. The sight was breathtaking. She was surrounded by snow-crusted mountains. In the distance were trees—a lot of trees. She turned and walked the opposite direction of the trees. Please let this be the right way. The pain in her head lessened as she walked.
Finally, a crossroads appeared. Cars sped down the road. The people inside the vehicles were oblivious to her plight.
There were no other signs of civilization.
Which way should she go?
A car approached and slowly pulled off the road. As it moved closer, the light bar started flashing.
Thank you, God.
A woman stepped out. She wore a black uniform and the traditional rounded state patrol hat. “Need some help?”
“I’m lost, officer. I ran out of gas, and I have no idea how to get back to Jackson Hole.”
The officer’s eyes widened. “Jackson Hole? You’re in Idaho.”
“Idaho?” Jamie’s gaze moved down to the woman’s badge. She should have noticed that before she opened her mouth.
“You don’t look too good. What happened to you?”
“Just a fight with my boyfriend.”
She pointed at Jamie’s shirt. “Is that blood?”
25
“This is Enrique. I think we’ve got a problem.” Enrique cut right to the chase.
“What’s Jamie done now?” Marcus knew his friend very well.
Enrique smiled despite not being in the mood for lighthearted banter. His grin faded as he told Marcus what happened. “It’s not that. I can’t find her. I thought maybe you’d talked to her today. In the last few hours.”
“No, I haven’t talked to her since the morning after you made that ruckus in the bar. How are things going aside from you not knowing where she is?”
“We’re working it out—sort of. She’s agreed we can be partners as long as she’s the boss.”
“Sounds like my Jamie. So, what’s the problem?”
“We were supposed to connect a few hours ago. She didn’t show, and her room is empty. I think something’s wrong.”
“It’s possible, but Jamie often goes off the grid when she’s undercover. She’s like a bloodhound. When she gets a scent she doesn’t stop until she gets to the end of the trail.”
“Not the words I wanted to hear.”
“I know, buddy. I can sympathize, but she’s good at what she does. And she can take care of herself. Remember that. Stop letting your own feelings about her get in the way of that.”
Enrique started to protest, but didn’t bother. Were his feelings for Jamie that blatant? Did everyone know he still carried a torch for her? “So if you were me you’d do nothing. Sit tight and wait?”
“Not much else to do. Anything new on the investigation? Where are you?”
“Jackson Hole.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Nope.”
“I guess that means you’re getting some new intel.”
“A little. Not only did she come up with this location, but she got us another name to check out.”
“Think it’s legitimate?”
“Seemed to be. I’ve got people checking him out.”
“Mind if I do?”
“Not at all. The more the merrier.”
“What’s the name?”
“Ryan Mattson.”
“Great. And Enrique?”
“Yes, Marcus.”
“Stop worrying. Jamie Jakowski can take care of herself. And besides, I’d swear God assigned a guardian angel just for her when I think of some of the situations she’s survived.”
“That might be true. I’m just praying this isn’t one of those situations.”
“I hear you, buddy.”
Enrique hung up the phone. He told himself there was nothing to worry about. His gut said otherwise. He walked outside. A little air would be good.
A woman stepped out from the room beside Jamie’s.
He smiled at her. “Afternoon.”
She nodded, but said nothing.
“Excuse me.” His hand curled around the badge in his pocket as he walked towards her.
The woman turned, her gaze suspicious.
“I was wondering if you’d seen the woman in the room beside yours today.” He pointed at Jamie’s door.
“Why?” Her eyes narrowed even more as she took a step away from him.
“I’m FBI, and I’m looking for her.” He pulled out the badge.
She stared at the badge, and then back at him. “I haven’t seen her since her husband carried her out of the room.”
“Carried?”
“Yeah, he said she was sick. He asked for directions to the hospital, but we’re not from around here so I had no idea.”
“How did you know it was her husband?”
“I just assumed that’s who he was. I suppose it could have been a boyfriend. Maybe even a brother.”
He pulled out his cell phone and flipped to a picture of Michael Zinkleman. “Is that the guy?”
“No.”
“Well, maybe his hair’s different. Color or length? Or he has a beard or something to make him look different.”
“Not him. I’m sure of it.”
“Well, what can you tell me about the guy?”
A young girl walked out of the motel room. “He had a tattoo on his arm.”
“What kind of a tattoo?”
“A snake that wrapped around his arm several times.” Her fingers indicated a climbing snake up her arm. “It was so awesome. I think I’m going—”
His stomach clenched. A snake going up his arm. Ryan Mattson?
“Don’t even think about it,” the mother said.
“But, Mom.”
“No.”
Teenage rebellion never changed.
How had Ryan managed to find Jamie? What was he doing here?
“Thanks, I’ll check out the hospital.” He handed the mother a card. “If you see either of them don’t say anything, but please give me a call.”
She nodded with pursed lips. “Of course.”
“I wonder what they did. I knew they looked suspicious from the start. I tried to tell you something was wrong,” the young girl whispered to her mother as they walked away.
“I don’t care what they did or didn’t do, but I’m going to ask for our room to be changed.”
“No way, Mom. I want to see what happens next. More exciting than this ridiculous town.”
The woman grabbed her daughter’s arm and walked towards the office.
26
“Is that blood?” The officer repeated the question.
Several large brown smudges decorated her shirt. “I…uh…I must have fallen when I was walking. Must be dirt. I guess.” She brushed at it.
“Looks like blood to me.”
“It’s probably dirt. I fell down. I told you I was in a ditch.”
“Actually, you didn’t mention that at all. Why were you in a ditch?”
Jamie said nothing.
Finally, the officer walked several feet away and whispered into her phone. She clicked the off button on the phone and walked b
ack, a stern look on her face. “Where did you say you walked from?”
Jamie pointed down the road.
“I don’t understand. Did your car break down or did your boyfriend make you get out of the car? Or what? This isn’t making much sense to me. I need you to be clearer. And when exactly were you in a ditch?”
“I know it’s not, but—”
“How about we take a ride back that way to find your car?”
“Look—I just want to get a cab and get back to Jackson Hole. I haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t need to go with you. I need to get back to my motel so I can rest. Can you call me a cab?”
The two women had a stare down.
“In the car. Now.” The officer grabbed Jamie’s arm and led her back to the cruiser.
Jamie slid into the back seat and allowed the officer to slam the door shut.
The officer had another brief conversation on her cell phone. When that was finished, she slid into the driver’s seat. A metal cage separated them. “OK, let’s take a ride. Now, where’s your car at?”
“I don’t have a car.”
“Then, how did you run out of gas?”
“I didn’t. I lied about that. The truth is my boyfriend and I had a fight, and I’m not sure what happened, but I ended up in a ditch. I don’t even know where I am. You’re the one who told me I was in Idaho. I had no idea until you told me.”
“Really? Your story seems to be changing all the time.” The officer drove down the road. “Let me know when we get to the ditch where you found yourself.”
The car crawled down the gravel road—more of a path than a road.
“How long have you been a state patrolman?”
“Why? What difference does that make?”
“It doesn’t. I was just trying to make conversation. That’s all.”
Silence for a moment. “Six months.”
Jamie’s plan was to take the ride, and then get to a phone. She had to call Enrique. Her eyes filled with tears at the thought of the man’s sweet smile. Oh, my, she really had been drugged.
Focus on the cabin. She’d been on the bed. Toys in the corner. Andrew’s? Then a knock on the door. Who had knocked? Was it Michael and Andrew? She was losing time. If she didn’t get after them soon the trail would go cold.
Jamie’s head throbbed.
“Mmm. There’s a cabin. Is that where you and your boyfriend are staying?”
“No, my motel’s in Jackson Hole. I already told you that.”
“So you say.” Gravel crunched as the cruiser turned into the drive.
As they neared the cabin, it was obvious no one was there. The door stood open.
Jamie’s gut twisted.
The car stopped. The officer turned back to her. “I don’t trust you out here alone. You’ll figure out a way to get out of that backseat, I know you will.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll sit right here.”
“I don’t think so. Let’s take a quick look inside.”
Jamie forced herself to stay quiet. No reason to make the officer distrust her any more than she already did. Truthfully, if Jamie were in her position, she’d probably be suspicious, as well.
The officer opened the door and motioned for Jamie to get out.
Jamie didn’t move. “Look, I’ve never seen this place before. Not even when I was walking.”
“If you say so. Are you going to get out?”
No use antagonizing her any further. Jamie scooted off the seat.
“I just want to take a quick peek, and then we can go. I can see you’re exhausted.” She called out. “Hello, anyone here?”
No answer.
The officer pushed the door open wider while she kept the other hand on Jamie’s arm.
There was a body face down on the bed.
27
The state patrolman’s hand clenched her arm—hard. “Don’t move.”
“I won’t.”
Panic was never good—especially when the other person had a gun and she didn’t.
“Who is that? Your boyfriend?”
“I don’t know him.” But Jamie had a sick, sinking feeling even though she hadn’t seen his face yet. An angry-looking red snake curled up the back of his arm.
“Don’t lie to me.”
Had she ever been part of a homicide investigation before? “I’m not lying. He’s not my boyfriend.” Jamie’s own voice was calm. “Let’s stay calm. No reason to panic.”
Nails dug into Jamie’s arm. “I’m not panicking. And don’t tell me what to do.”
There were no toys in the corner and only a sheet on the bed. No quilt. This was not the cabin she’d been in with Ryan. How had he gotten here? And had she been here, as well? Oh, Ryan, why did you drug me? I could have helped you.
After a quick search of the cabin, the officer knelt down and checked for a pulse. “He’s dead.” She stood up and stared at Jamie. “Is this your boyfriend?”
“You’ve asked me that twice already. Both times, I told you no.” Her stomach twisted and her knees shook as she stared at Ryan. “He is not my boyfriend.”
But he had been her friend. The last thing she remembered was the knock on the door and Ryan pressing the ether-soaked rag against her nose and mouth. Who had been at the door? She’d assumed it was Michael Zinkleman and maybe Andrew, but why would he kill the man who’d flown here to help him stay hidden?
“Shouldn’t you look at him first before you answer my question?”
“I don’t need to—it’s not him. And I’ve never seen this place before.”
“So, you’re telling me you’ve never been here.”
“That’s right.”
“So, we aren’t going to find your fingerprints in here. Is that right?”
“That’s correct.”
“Fine. Back to the car.”
28
Enrique strode up the steps of the Idaho State Police Barracks. He’d received a call from the station with a request to come immediately. It had to be about Jamie, but the man on the phone wouldn’t answer his questions.
He opened the door appreciating the coolness of the air conditioner. People were moving about each working on their own cases.
He walked up to the reception desk. “I’m FBI agent, Enrique Rodriquez.” He showed his badge. “I was called to come in, but…”
The officer held out a hand for his badge.
“I was called, but wasn’t given any other information. Can you explain what’s going on?”
“Hold on.” He walked away with Enrique’s badge and gave it to another officer. After a whispered conference, the new man came to the desk.
“Agent Rodriquez, thanks for coming.” He held out his hand. “We talked on the phone. I’m Donald Trump. And no, I’m not that Donald, and he’s no relation.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“We have a bit of a situation here.”
“How can I help?”
“We have a woman in custody—a possible murder suspect. She won’t say a word to us except to give us your name and your phone number.”
“A murder suspect? Who’s the victim?” Jamie?
“Don’t know yet. He didn’t have any ID on him and your woman’s not telling us anything. Not her name. Not his name. Nothing.”
“What happened?”
“My officer found her walking along the side of the road. She claimed she’d run out of gas and was lost, but she had blood on her. They took a ride back the way the woman said she’d come. Found a body in a cabin. And no abandoned car anywhere on the road.”
“What did she say?”
“Won’t say a thing except your name and phone number.”
“She told you I was FBI?”
“She did, and then we verified it before we called you.” Donald Trump gave him a smile. “Can’t be too careful these days.”
“Can I see her?”
“Absolutely. I’m hoping you can tell us what’s going on. Or who the victim is.”
“Nothing came up in our state database. We’re running them through the network as we speak. But I’m sure you know that can be a longer process than they show on the TV shows. I’ll let you go in alone, but I’ll be watching from the observation room with the sound on and recording, as well. Her Miranda rights have already been read to her.”
“Isn’t that jumping the gun a bit?”
“Not as far as I’m concerned.”
“Mind if I take a look at her from the observation booth before I go in? To see if I actually know her.”
“No problem.” Trump walked ahead of Enrique and opened the door. The two men stepped into a darkened cubicle and up to the observation window. Relief coursed through Enrique. At least Jamie wasn’t the murder victim.
Jamie sat at a table wiping away tears. Her hair was disheveled, and her face had streaks of dirt. Her shirt was covered in blood.
“I know her.”
“What’s her name?”
“This is a complicated situation.”
“I didn’t ask you if it was complicated. I asked you her name.”
“She doesn’t look well. Is she hurt?”
“She said she was fine. What’s her name?”
“I need to explain the situation, but first I need to see her.”
“Because it’s too complicated to tell me her name?” The man’s eyes turned hard as he stared at Enrique. “Does that mean you won’t tell me her name?”
“No, of course not. But I’ll need a few minutes with her. In private. No recording.”
The two men locked gazes. After a moment, Donald Trump nodded. “I want her name.”
“And I’ll give you her name.”
“Why does it feel like you’re jacking me around?”
“I’m not. Honestly. I’ll tell you her name right now. Just do me a favor and don’t run it until we can talk. That’s all I’m asking.”
“Aren’t we talking right now?”
“You’re going to jump to the wrong conclusion if you run her name.”
“Because it’s complicated?”
Trust was a two-way street. “Her name is Jamie Jakowski.”
“Is she FBI?”
His superiors had been adamant that she wasn’t, yet they’d insisted he come along to assist her. And that he wasn’t to interfere with her until she found Zinkleman. “She is and she isn’t.”
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