What surprised Logan most was that no one had heard the shot. In most of the apartment buildings he’d ever lived in, someone was always complaining about hearing their neighbors through the walls. A gunshot from the Beretta should have been heard not just by the people next door, but also by people in the buildings that lined the alley. And since this was the middle of a big city, no matter what time the trigger had been pulled, someone would have been home. But by the look of the wound and the smell, Anthony had been lying there dead for at least a day, if not more.
Logan scanned the room, looking for a note somewhere, but there was none.
…death could be made to look like anything. An accident, suicide, whatever they want…
Was this not what it appeared? There was no way for Logan to know for sure, but it certainly felt that way.
Instead of going out the window, he used the front door, then circled around to the alley like he had before, and got back into the El Camino.
He knew he should call the police. But if he did it from his cell phone, they’d record his number, and know who he was. He couldn’t have that. He’d lose too much time down at the station trying to explain why he’d found the body, and given the suspicions Detective Baker already had, it was possible they would even lock him up for a few days. He could always find a pay phone, but those were few and far between anymore, and you never knew where a security camera might be aimed.
There was a third option, though.
He started the El Camino, and pulled out of the carport.
16
Logan’s phone rang as he was driving back to the motel. The number on the display had a D.C. area code.
“Logan?” It was Ruth.
“I thought you’d forgotten about me.”
“I tried. Trust me.” She let out a little laugh. “My contact couldn’t run the plate number until after hours, and I wasn’t about to call you back from any of my phones.”
“Uh…thanks?”
“What? You want me to give them a good reason to fire me? I’ve got a family, remember?”
He didn’t say anything. He’d had a family once, small as it had been.
“Sorry, that was…unnecessary,” she said. “It’s just if anyone looks at the phone records they’ll already see that you called me at the office. One call I can play off, tell them I told you to get lost. But two? Especially if I’m the one initiating the second one? Not so easy to ignore.”
“Don’t worry. I get it.” And he did. Her cell phone and, of course, her office phone were both paid for by Forbus. They would know exactly who she talked to. “What did you find out?”
“Nothing that you’re going to like, I’ll bet. The car’s registered to a Cameron Jackson in Burbank, California. Unfortunately, Ms. Jackson filed a stolen vehicle report yesterday. It seems when she headed out to work in the morning her car was gone.”
There was an airport in Burbank, one that was a hell of a lot easier to use than LAX. Fly in, walk a few blocks away, steal a car from in front of a home. Easy. No doubt, in another couple of days, the police would find the car, but wouldn’t be able to pursue the case any further because there would be no prints.
“Thanks, Ruth.”
“I said you weren’t going to like it.”
“You’re right, but I’m not surprised.” He hesitate a second. Things had changed since they’d last talked. There was information she was uniquely positioned to provide him. He didn’t want to push, but he had to. “Listen, what kind of intel do you have on Burma these days?”
“Burma? I thought we were talking stolen cars.”
“Separate subject.”
“What’s important about Burma?”
“It’s for a friend. He…used to live there years ago.”
Ruth said nothing for several seconds. “What have you gotten yourself into?”
“Nothing. Just getting some info for a friend. That’s all.”
“And the stolen car?”
“I told you, unrelated. It dinged my dad’s car in a parking lot. But if it was stolen there’s not much we can do about it.” They both knew he was lying, but if Ruth was ever asked about it, she could honestly repeat what Logan had just told her. “So…Burma?”
The pause went on for several seconds. He could imagine her shaking her head in resignation as she finally spoke. “As far as I know we don’t have much going on in that part of the world at the moment. A little contract work in Singapore, emergency response training, but that’s it.”
“You still get the daily brief, right?” The daily brief was a breakdown of what was happening in the world by country and region. Forbus wanted its top people kept up-to-date in case an opportunity suddenly presented itself.
“Hell, Logan. I don’t really pay that much attention to Burma. As far as I remember, it’s pretty much the same as always. A group of old, asshole generals not wanting to relinquish the power they don’t deserve. Nothing stands out, though. No new protests or anything.”
Logan hesitated, then said, “I need another favor. I need the latest Burma assessment.”
“Are you serious?”
“I wouldn’t ask you if I wasn’t.”
“I hate you sometimes, Logan Harper.”
“Is that a yes?”
“That’s a maybe.”
“Thank you, Ruth. I mean it.”
He pulled into the motel parking lot a few minutes later, and saw that the cars the Cambria contingent had ridden down in were all there. He called his dad.
“What room are you in?”
“Thirty-five.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Dev and Ken were standing just outside his father’s door like they were protecting the Oval Office.
“Everything all right?” Logan asked.
“Everything’s fine,” Dev said, then knocked on the door.
“Good. Thanks for being here for them.”
“Always like to help a friend.”
A moment later, Barney opened the door and let Logan in.
Tooney and his father were sitting on one of the two beds while Jerry stood nearby.
“We were going to order some Chinese,” Jerry said. “Want some?”
“We need to talk.”
“Did you speak with Elyse’s friends?” Tooney asked.
“I talked to Lara, but…” Logan hesitated only a second. There was no use sugar coating it. “Anthony’s dead.”
Stunned silence.
“Did you say dead?” his dad finally asked.
“Lara gave me his address. Said that he was supposed to have had dinner with Elyse the night before last, so I went over there. I found him in his apartment.”
“How did you get in if he was already dead?” Barney asked.
“I just did.”
“Did someone kill him?” Jerry asked.
“The way it looks, he shot himself through the head.”
Harp leaned back, surprised again. “Suicide?”
“That’s the impression.”
“What do you mean ‘impression’?” he asked.
“With everything that’s been going on, I’m not willing to believe suicide yet.”
“So what do you think might have happened?” Jerry asked.
“I don’t know. Could be he did kill himself. But if he did have dinner with Elyse, he would have been one of the last people to see her before she disappeared. Maybe he was with her when they grabbed her. Wrong place, wrong time.”
“Oh, no, no,” Tooney said, burying his eyes in the palm of his hand. “We should have called the police yesterday.”
“I don’t think it would have made a difference,” Logan told him. “I’m pretty sure he was shot before that guy even came to the café to try to kill you.”
“But the police are going to know now anyway, aren’t they?” Barney said. “You must have called them after you found the body.”