Line of Fire Page 16

  They were still behind us.

  I swerved into oncoming traffic to pass the slowpoke in front of us, swerving back in time to avoid a collision. Half a block, I turned up another street that held more moving cars. I had no idea where we were or where I was going. I only hoped my next turn didn’t lead to a dead end.

  Sirens. Relief shuddered through me as I heard them. Police lights reflected down the street behind and in front of us. The van took an abrupt turn, disappearing from my mirror. Shannon reported the information into his phone, and the police cars put on speed, following the direction taken by the van.

  “No plates,” Shannon said grimly. “Hope they get it.”

  “Should we stop and wait?” I asked, passing the car in front of us. It felt good, putting more space between us and the van.

  “Our guys can handle it. Let’s get to Salem. I’ll call the commander and the FBI on the way.” He let several heartbeats pass by before adding with a grin. “You can slow down now.”

  “I’ll drive how I want,” I retorted. “This is an emergency, remember?”

  “Ha. You always drive like this. That’s why I gave you the keys. I knew we’d get away with you behind the wheel.”

  “Very funny.” I pulled onto the freeway, pushing harder on the gas pedal.

  Shannon said nothing, but he reached over me and put on my seatbelt and then his own.

  “How do I turn on the police lights?” I said.

  “I’ll do it.” He retrieved the equipment from the floor, opened the window, and placed the magnetic light on top of the truck. The siren cleared the cars in front of us like magic.

  Five minutes out of town, the snow stopped, but I could tell the storm had been here earlier by the fresh layer of white on either side of the black strip of road.

  Shannon answered his phone. “Did you get them?” A long pause. “Well, keep a look out, though I doubt they’ll stick around. He hung up. “They didn’t get them,” he said heavily.

  “Who do you think they were?”

  “Well, we know the drugs and the shooting and Jenny’s disappearance are all related, so apparently someone thinks we’re nosing around too much.” He sighed. “They’ve been following us. Probably all day.” He didn’t sound surprised.

  “You knew? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want to worry you—and because I thought I might be wrong. It was a blue sedan at first, but I kept an eye on them, doubling back, and they disappeared. Must have had another car waiting. They’re good.”

  To have fooled Shannon they had to be, but there was more he wasn’t telling me. I could see it in the crease of his brow.

  “What else?” I asked.

  Shannon shook his head. “You okay?”

  I was too exhausted to demand that he answer. “Just a scratch.”

  Shannon grinned. “That good, huh?”

  Nodding, I grabbed at the tissue he offered and dabbed my lip, which was still oozing blood. My right cheek felt hot and fiery, and my left thigh and ribs ached, though I didn’t think anything was broken. This time. I pondered what I would tell Jake and my sister the next day, if we were back in Portland by then.

  An ugly bruise was forming on Shannon’s jaw, and I bet he was in as much discomfort as I was. He reached out and turned on the heater. Good thing since I was freezing, my black pants wet with melting snow.

  “Guess I’ll call Commander Huish and Agent Cross,” Shannon said.

  For the next fifteen minutes, he was talking on the phone, reporting Bremer’s identity. I noticed that though he told Cross and Huish we’d found the information by tracking down the midwife, he didn’t mention that the identification I’d made of Bremer had come from an imprint. Though both the commander and Agent Cross seemed to accept what I did, I knew full well my ability didn’t translate well in the telling or on paper.

  Strangely, I recognized Bremer more from the imprint on the stabbing victim’s shirt than from the brief incident with him at the gas station. I also remembered the pain of the knife entering my chest, so maybe that was why his face was more clear in that memory, the one that wasn’t really mine.

  I swallowed hard.

  “We’re almost there,” Shannon was saying into his phone. “But, look, there was an incident in Portland at the midwife’s house. We were attacked by men just like at the hospital, except this time they were aiming for us, not to protect their men. I’d bet it’s the same group. No. The midwife will be fine. I sent officers there to make sure.”

  I lifted my hand to the scarf, and calmness soothed my worry and the fear I’d experienced during the attack—fear that I could still feel radiating from my sweater, where I must have created an imprint. Not a strong one, though. I hadn’t been focusing on it, and I hadn’t really believed I was going to die.

  I hoped the attack meant we were getting closer to solving the case and finding Jenny, but Bremer remained the key. We had to find out what he knew. I pushed harder on the gas.

  When we arrived back in Salem, I was pleased that we’d beaten the FBI agents there, though not by much. I was still hanging up my now-damp coat when Agents Cross and Morley entered the station.

  “We found Jenny’s accounts at several adoption reunion sites and confirmed that she did talk to someone claiming to be her father,” Cross said without preamble. She slid out of her wool coat and hung it next to mine. Her eyes wandered over my split lip and the bruise I knew was forming on my cheek, but she didn’t comment.

  “Did he talk about her birth mother?” I asked, folding Divone’s scarf and slipping it into my coat pocket on top of my gloves. I was glad no fear was imprinted on the cloth.

  Cross grimaced. “Yes. Worse, he told Jenny that Gail stole her and maybe did something to Cindy. I think that’s why Jenny didn’t go to her parents about what she’d found. Maybe she wanted to determine the truth for herself.”

  “She should have known how dangerous it was.” I sat on the edge of the desk next to the coatrack.

  “Oh, she didn’t plan on going with him anywhere.” Cross nodded at Morley, who thumbed through a sheaf of papers in his hands. He found a paper and passed it to Cross, who in turn handed it to me. I took it gingerly, relieved when there were no imprints.

  Cross continued, “Bremer, who goes only by the name David on the site, tried to convince her to visit him in Portland, but she refused. Said she’d only meet him at a local restaurant.”

  I reviewed the conversation on the sheet. “It also mentions phone calls that she made from a pay phone. Maybe the plan changed.”

  Commander Huish shook his head. “We have someone looking at the phone she used at the school. The only incoming calls we can’t identify are dated prior to this communication.”

  “So he took her,” I said. “And if Bremer is still here, that means Jenny should be nearby, too.”

  “That’s the part that doesn’t jibe.” Agent Cross collected the paper from my hands. “Why kidnap someone and hang around for two weeks afterward? If he wanted to keep his daughter, I’d expect him to leave town and hide in another state. Or if he wanted a ransom, he would have given the Vandykes a call by now. But he’s not doing any of that. He’s stabbing people and holding up gas stations. Why?”

  She had a point. “He doesn’t have her,” I said. “Either she ran away from him or—” I broke off as a worse thought occurred.

  “Or he did something to her,” Shannon finished.

  “I think it’s high time we ask Bremer himself.” Huish looked over at Detective Greeley.

  “He’s ready,” Greeley said. “In interrogation four.”

  “I’ll go in,” Agent Cross said. “I’d like Ms. Rain there as well. Maybe she can pick up something from him.” She leveled a gaze at me. “But let me ask the questions.”

  No one objected, so I agreed, though I wasn’t excited about seeing the foul-mouthed man again. It wasn’t as if I could pick up anything from the air, and how close would I get to touching something he’d
imprinted on? At the same time, I was curious, and that was enough motive.

  “I’d like to go in, too,” Greeley said.

  Cross nodded, and minutes later the three of us entered the interrogation room. Greeley was wearing an earpiece, and I knew that if Shannon, Huish, or Morley had questions for Bremer, they would ask through him.

  “Did you ever find the boot?” I asked Greeley in a whisper as we went through the door.

  “Not yet.”

  “Well, it probably doesn’t matter now that we know who Bremer is.”

  He nodded but with a reluctance that bothered me. He was hiding something. Had he misplaced or tampered with the evidence? I usually liked everyone, but this man annoyed me to no end, and I almost wanted to believe he was dirty.

  I wondered how I’d fare against him in a fight on a dark street.

  I shook off the notion. The guy was several heads taller than me and hard as a rock—and I wasn’t talking only about his thick head.

  “Is something funny?” Greeley asked tightly.

  I was tempted to make a joke about his losing the evidence but decided not to antagonize him. We were supposed to be on the same team. “Not at all.”

  Agent Cross was already at the table, seating herself across from Bremer, who was no longer wearing his baseball cap. Thin frame, narrow face, washed-out blue eyes, blond hair curled slightly up at the ends. He looked exactly like the orderly at the retirement home had described but nothing like the drawing from the sketch artist. The lines of his face were harder, with more angles, and intelligence gleamed in those pale eyes.

  We joined Cross, Greeley standing next to the table while I took the other chair next to her, careful to keep my hands from touching the table.

  “I’m Special Agent Liz Cross from the FBI,” Cross began, pressing the record button on a small recorder. “I’ll be recording our interview today. You know Detective Greeley, and I believe you’ve met Autumn Rain. She’s a consultant with the Portland police.”

  Bremer didn’t acknowledge Greeley, but his eyes flicked to mine with obvious recognition. Since I had effectively caught him by throwing the pork ’n beans and nearly shooting him with Shannon’s gun, I expected him to be angry at seeing me. Instead, he turned flirty.

  “I remember her. I never forget a pretty face. Though it looks like you need a new boyfriend, honey, if that cut on your lip is from him.”

  No one replied, though I could imagine Shannon bristling behind the one-way glass.

  “To what do I owe the privilege of this visit from the FBI and the psychic?” Bremer continued.

  Cross furrowed her brow. “Psychic?”

  “Everyone in lockup is talking about her—deputies and inmates both.”

  “You heard wrong.” I’d be hanged before I’d explain my gift to him.

  “We’re here,” Cross cut in, holding him with her eyes, “to talk to you about Jenny Vandyke. Where is she, Mr. Bremer?”

  Chapter 13

  Bremer gave Cross a charming smile that showed me a hint of why Cindy might have fallen for him so long ago. “You sure you work for the FBI? Because I think you should be a model. Little too tall for my taste, but you’re a beautiful woman.” His eyes moved back to me. “You’re more my type, though. I like the red in your hair. Feisty. Dyed, I bet. But the brown underneath makes a nice combination. Unusual but not crass or cheap.”

  “My height has nothing to do with this,” Cross said coolly. “Nor does Ms. Rain’s hair. Please pay attention, Mr. Bremer.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” He pushed back his chair and lifted his feet onto the table. “Anyway, I don’t know anything about any missing girl.” He wasn’t looking at either of us as he said it but someplace between. “You have me for what I did at the gas station, but I didn’t stab anyone, and I didn’t take no girl.”

  “‘I will find out,’” I quoted him from the imprint on the shirt we’d taken from the hospital. “‘I know about your cousin. Maybe he’ll tell me what I want to know.’” He already thought I was psychic, and maybe that could work in my favor.

  Bremer froze, but in the next second he shook his head. “Are you having a vision, dear? Because that really doesn’t work for me. Totally unattractive.”

  Cross didn’t ask the question, so I did. “What did you mean by cousin, Mr. Bremer? Who is he?”

  “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  “So you didn’t say those words?” Agent Cross put her hand near the recorder. “I remind you that we’re recording.”

  “And I have the right to be silent,” Bremer said. “Maybe I need a lawyer.”

  “You can call one, or we can appoint one for you.” Cross’s voice was controlled, but I sensed icy fury beneath. I hoped it was directed at Bremer or her own ineptness at questioning, and not at me for disobeying her gag order. “Are you asking for one?”

  Bremer smiled lazily, secure in his attractiveness. “No. But I know I don’t have to answer if I don’t want to.”

  “Well, let me tell you what we already have,” Cross said. “Because of your prior convictions, we have your DNA, and we’ll be comparing that with Jenny’s. Also, we’re tracing your conversation with her on the adoption reunion site. We know you talked to her over the phone and maybe even met with her before she went missing. With your presence here and your past record for fraud, drug running, and domestic violence, that will be plenty to convict you. Why don’t you make it easy on yourself and tell us where she is?”

  In an instant Bremer’s boyish charm vanished. He leaned forward and said viciously, “They stole her from me. Stole her! She’s mine. They deserve to rot for what they did, and I will make them pay!”

  We held our breath as Cross asked again. “Where is she, Mr. Bremer?”

  His rage lessened marginally. “I. Don’t. Know.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know?” Greeley shot at him when Agent Cross remained silent. “Do you deny talking to her? Coming to see her? We know she didn’t plan to leave with you. What were your intentions?”

  “I did see her, and it made me even more determined to get her back.”

  “What makes you think you’d be any kind of a father?” Greeley sneered. It was the question on my own tongue, but I’d managed to hold it back.

  “I take care of my own,” Bremer said. “Are you saying a man doesn’t have the right to know he has a child?”

  “That’s not for us to decide,” Cross said. “Where is Jenny?”

  “I told you. I don’t know.”

  Cross stood, placing her hands on the table and leaning toward him. “Did you do something to her? Did you hurt her? Was it an accident? Or did she make you angry?”

  Bremer rubbed his hands over his face. “I tell you, I don’t know anything. I met with her, yes, at a restaurant. She wouldn’t come with me. If she had, she’d be safe right now.”

  “Then who took her?” Greeley nearly yelled. “Why should we believe you?”

  “It must have been those parents of hers,” Bremer said. “They must have found out what I was planning.” The difference in his tone was notable, but I didn’t know what it meant.

  “You’re lying,” Cross said. “What happened? If someone else has Jenny, the more you delay, the more you put her in danger. Is that how you prove you’re capable of being a good father?”

  Bremer jumped to his feet and mimicked Cross’s stance, hands on the table, his face inches from hers. “I don’t know anything. I want a lawyer. Now. You need to stop questioning me and get out there and find my daughter. If you can’t hack it, you should quit. You can always turn to modeling.”

  Cross’s jaw clenched and unclenched, but she kept her calm. “We’ll get you an attorney, Mr. Bremer. Maybe he can talk some sense into you because we’ll be adding attempted murder and kidnapping to your charges. When we do find your daughter, even if she’s okay, you’ll be in prison too long even to see her, much less have a relationship with her.”

  Bremer sat
down and folded his arms across his chest, his jaw jutting out.

  “Fine. If that’s how you want it.” Cross went toward the door. Greeley and I followed.

  “Let me question him,” Greeley said to Huish when we were in the hall. “I’ll get it out of him.”

  Huish sighed. “He’s asked for an attorney. There’s nothing more we can do.”

  “He might be telling the truth about not knowing where she is,” Cross said. “But he’s still hiding something.”

  “He admitted to contacting Jenny and meeting with her,” Shannon said. “If he knows where she is and won’t tell us, there’s only one reason for that.”

  “He’s protecting himself,” Greeley said.

  “Exactly. But from what? We have to assume it’s the drug connection.”

  Greeley’s nostrils flared. “Some father he is.”

  “Whoever’s in charge sent someone to kill Weston Millard at the hospital,” Shannon added. “He must have information about them they’re afraid he’ll spill.”

  Huish looked at Greeley. “We need to see if he’s conscious yet.”

  “I’d like any information you have on him,” Cross said. “We can work at it from our end.”

  I walked down the hall, my mind moving faster than my feet. The drugs, Jenny, Millard, Bremer, and the men who jumped us—there was a connection, something I wasn’t seeing.

  Cody Beckett, my long-lost father? I sure hoped not, but why had Millard gone to his house? Maybe he’d been heading somewhere else nearby. “What about the gas station attendant?” I asked.

  Everyone turned to me. Greeley, halfway down the hall, turned and paused.

  “He’s not at his house, his fiancée’s, or at work,” Huish said. “Levine’s still searching for him.”

  “He have family?” Shannon asked.

  Greeley shook his head. “Not here.”

  “Don’t you think that’s odd?” I retraced my steps to join them. “He was shot, Bremer had it out for him, and now he’s suddenly missing.”

  “Are you thinking maybe Bremer has a partner who went after him?” Agent Morley asked.