“Where are you now?”
“We’re driving hack to HQ. We have a surveillance video from the garage attendant that we’ll have the techs take a closer look at.”
“What do you see on it?’
“The chief and Lyman leaving in a blue Dodge Sport minivan about a minute after the bus pulled away from the bus stop. We’ve got a plate and a broadcast out. We’re pulling over any and all blue Dodge Sport minivans. Nothing as of yet, but we’re pulling everything over.”
Mac pinched the bridge of his nose. They had made a trade. They had the girls, but the chief and Lyman were out of reach. While they had a plate for the van, the window of time to find the chief and Hisle before they changed vehicles would be small, if not already closed. “Pat, Brown, and the Muellers had to know you’d be tailing the bus, and that’s when the chief and Lyman weren’t on it, that you would double back to the bus stop. They have to know the surveillance footage from the parking ramp will give you the plate for the van.”
“They’ll be ready, won’t they,” Riles said. It was an answer, not a question.
“They’ve been ready for everything else,” Mac answered. “There’ll be a switch at some out-of-the-way place. I’ll bet a month’s pay you’ll find it abandoned somewhere.”
Riles sighed and then said, “No bet.”
Then there was the mole. Mac hadn’t spent much time thinking about that for the past couple of hours. But now they needed to pursue that angle full-bore, and they had little to go on.
“Who’s the mole?” Mac asked.
“Hell if I know. You have any theories on who it might be?” Riles fired back. “I mean, beyond someone in the department with a connection to Brown or the Muellers?”
“How about the FBI? How about Duffy?” Mac asked, already grasping at straws.
“Or the mayor,” Lich added. “I wouldn’t put anything past him. Not the way he’s operated the last couple of days.”
“No way,” Riles answered. “I know Duffy and the chief don’t exchange Christmas cards, but I find it hard to believe he would do this. What’s the upside in that? And the mayor isn’t smart enough to pull this off. And besides, what evidence do we have?”
“Nothing, other than they were both around yesterday when the call from Stewart Avenue came in,” Mac answered.
“As were thirty or forty other people. What? Are we going to haul them all in?” Riles said skeptically.
“You have any better ideas?”
Riles got quiet on the other end. “I don’t. I gotta talk to Peters about it. What are you doing?”
“We’re lying in wait out here for now,” Mac answered. “Who knows, Brown and the Muellers could show. Where’s Peters?”
“He’s already back at HQ with Burton and his crew, working the broadcast on the van. It’s the only lead we got.”
“Get back there and talk to Peters, see what he thinks. The clock is ticking, and we need to make a move.” Mac hung up, but his phone beeped at him. Sally.
Heather Foxx trailed Rockford and Riley for two hours. She had watched as Riley, Rockford, Peters, and the FBI taped up the parking garage as a crime scene, everyone tight-lipped and grim. Now they seemed to be heading back to police headquarters. It certainly looked like they’d lost Hisle and Flanagan. She thought about the call from Carlson. The medical chopper was in and out fast, but she still had no confirmation that the girls had been found. The police weren’t talking about it at all. Gail Carlson was the only media on the scene at North Memorial, which was in lock down mode. None of the stations had that story yet.
If the girls had been found, it didn’t seem to make anyone happy. It was as if McRyan wasn’t letting everyone, or anyone for that matter, in on the rescue. She doubted he’d be keeping that from Riley and Rockford. Those two were McRyan’s guys, along with Lich. But then why was McRyan driving from St. Paul, to Osseo, to Wyoming and now Marine on St. Croix? Perhaps the kidnappers called in the location of the girls. But if that were the case, she probably would have heard something. It was time to find out what the hell was going on.
“I’ll be back,” she told the cameraman as they parked two rows behind Rockford’s truck in the police parking lot.
“You don’t want me to come with?”
“No, and don’t shoot anything either. This will be off the record.”
Heather hopped out of the car and walked toward Riley and Rockford. She’d never really spoken to the veteran detectives, other than to say hello. As she approached, Riley was pacing back and forth, talking on a cell phone and Rockford was leaning against the truck. Rock saw Heather first, said something to Riley who turned around. She caught his eye as he hung up the phone. It was time to take a chance.
“I know you found the girls,” she blurted.
Riley and Rock tried to remain neutral, but Rock twitched, just enough to tell Heather she was right. “I know you found them, detectives,” she said. No notepad, no camera, just her making a statement. “I had someone monitoring the police bands up around Forest Lake and heard about the call at Hanburg’s Hardware. I’ve had a reporter following McRyan since. She saw a medical chopper come in over some farm up by Marine on St. Croix. It wasn’t there long, and McRyan was running around with Washington County sheriff’s deputies.”
“Heather, you’re right, but you can’t report that right now,” Riles pleaded. “Hell, only a few of us know about it. Not even the FBI knows yet.”
“Why not?”
Riley ignored the question. “How long you been watching us?”
“Last couple of hours, followed you down to the Taste of Minnesota and then back up here.”
“So what do you think happened?” Rock asked with an edge.
“I assume something went awry with the ransom.”
“Worse,” Riles replied, pausing and then running his hand through his thick back hair. The big detective exhaled. “It’s much worse. The chief and Hisle are missing. They’re out of pocket, and we don’t have a clue as to where they are. If you go with the girls being found, the chief and Lyman are as good as dead.”
It was Heather’s turn to go silent. There was more than just a story at stake here. She could scoop everyone else. Nobody knew the girls were alive. The story would be huge for her and her career. But if she went with the story, Riley was probably right. Flanagan and Hisle would be dead. She quickly decided to do the right thing, but worked it to her advantage, I’ll hold it, but…”
“You want something back in return?”
“An exclusive with McRyan about how the girls were found.”
“Done,” Riley answered. He and Rock turned to walk inside.
That wasn’t a bad deal, the inside story. The networks weren’t going to be getting that. “I had the report of McRyan driving up and around Forest Lake today, so I figured something was up,” Heather said to them as they walked away. “You said the FBI doesn’t know. I figured they did since that Burton guy was up there last night.”
Riley and Rock both turned around, surprised looks on their faces. “Burton was up in Forest Lake?” Riley asked.
“Yeah. Last night, after midnight, up at a place called the Ranger. Do you know it?”
“It’s the local hangout in Forest Lake,” Riley answered, striding back to her. “What was Burton doing up there?”
Heather could tell that something about Burton’s little jaunt was important. “He met up with a man. They talked in a booth for a while and then they both left. I’m not much for surveillance work, as I missed both of them leaving the place.”
“What did the man Burton met look like?” Riley asked. “Height, weight, age, appearance? What did this fuckin’ man look like?”
“Forty-five to fifty, I’d guess. Black hair, graying at the temples, big nose, and he wore glasses. I’d say he was maybe five-ten to six feet tall. That’s a guess based on Burton’s height. They sat eye to eye in the booth, so I assume similar height and weight.”
Riley was suddenly agitated. “Heather, you’re sure?”
Foxx nodded.
“Rock, grab the folder out of the truck.”