Redemption (13 page)

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.”

“What about fingerprints?”

“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.”

“Oh, well. Now I understand. And that wasn't complicated at all.”

Jamie was pacing now.

“I will explain the whole thing. I just need to talk to her first. Because I don't have a clue what happened. I told you her name. Let me talk to her for a few minutes, and then I'll tell you what I know.”

Donald Trump nodded.

 

 

 

 

 

29

 

Ryan Mattson was dead. He'd been trying to get his life together. He read the Bible and seemed close to believing.

A tear leaked out.

The door opened. Enrique stepped through.

Jamie jumped up and ran into his arms. To her horror, a sob escaped.

His strong arms tightened as one hand caressed her hair. “You're safe. Just relax.”

“I don't...I didn't...I can't...” She had no power to stop the sobs.

“Don't try to talk. Just breathe.” His voice was warm and comforting in her ear as he whispered. His hand moved from her hair to slow comforting circles around her back.

Finally, the tears slowed and the crying shuddered to a stop. Still, she didn't move out of his hug. Instead, she laid her head on his chest.

“I looked for you all afternoon. I knew something was wrong. I even called Marcus, but he told me I was overreacting. He said to give you the space you needed to work.”

She stepped out of his arms. Her words were quiet, meant only for his ears. “I'm sorry I fell apart. Probably the drugs he gave me.”

“Do you need to go to the hospital?”

She shook her head.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

Enrique motioned for her to sit. “What's going on, Jamie?” His voice was soft.

“I was so close to finding Andrew. I know I was. What am I supposed to tell Zink? I let her ex get away again.”

“How do you know that? Did you see Andrew or Michael?”

“I saw his toys. I'm sure they were Andrew's.”

“Where did you see them?”

“I don't know.”

“You're not making much sense, Jamie. What happened?”

“Do you want me to start at the beginning or the end and go backwards?”

“Let's start at the end. Do you know who the vic is?”

“It's Ryan Mattson.”

Enrique's eyes widened as he sat back in the chair. “Why did he come here?”

“According to him he borrowed a friend's plane and flew here. He just happened to see me when I checked into the motel. I was leaving the motel to meet you. When I opened the door, he got the drop on me. The next thing I know I wake up in a log cabin somewhere.”

“And you killed him to escape?”

“I didn't kill him. And it wasn't the same place where they found his body. I'm sure of it. I didn't know how to explain the situation to them. I wouldn't tell them anything until you got here.”

“I'm not following you.”

“Don't feel bad. I'm just as confused, and I lived it.”

“OK, maybe you better start at the beginning.”

 

 

 

 

30

 

Enrique stood up. “But before you do I have to bring in Commander Trump. We need to tell him everything.”

“Everything?”

“Don't worry, Jakowski. I've got your back. That's what partners do. Our mission—if that's what you want to call it—is over. So there's no reason not to tell him everything we know. And besides, honesty is definitely the best policy this time around. They do believe you killed him.”

“I didn't—”

“I know that. We'll get this mess cleaned up. Don't worry.”

“I didn't want to tell him anything until you got here. He would think I was nuts.” She grinned. “Maybe I am.”

Enrique winked at her as he opened the door. “You're not, Jakowski.”

Moments later, a tall blond man walked in. He held out his hand to Jamie. “I'm Commander Donald Trump. And you are?”

“Jamie Jakowski. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner, but I thought it was better to wait for Enrique—Agent Rodriquez to get here.”

“So, are we ready to un-complicate matters?”

“We'll do our best.” Enrique pulled out a chair for Jamie.

Grateful, she sat down. Her knees were shaky and she didn't feel well at all. They must have given her more drugs than just the ether. “If I tried to tell you the story without Agent Rodriquez you might have trouble believing me,” Jamie said.

“That bad, huh?”

“Not bad. What was the word you used? Complicated.” Fatigue, and probably as an aftermath of the drugs, fog had descended in her brain. She needed to be alert and clear about what happened. “If it's OK with you, I'll start at the beginning and tell you what I know about the dead man in that shack.”

“Let's start with his name.”

“He's Ryan Mattson from Columbus, Ohio. “

“Why did you kill him?”

“I didn—”

“We aren't going there, Commander.” Enrique interrupted. “There's no reason to be antagonistic. Jamie didn't kill him.”

“So you say. I have a dead body and an uncooperative witness, or possibly even the perp. Don't tell me—”

“Look Commander, let Jamie tell her story first, and then you can ask questions.” Enrique's voice remained calm. “She said she didn't kill Ryan Mattson, and I believe her. You asked me before if Jamie works for the FBI. She works as a consultant with the FBI from time to time.”

The two men stared at each other locked in a battle of wills.

This is why she preferred to work alone. Although this time, she was glad to have Enrique defending her. Still, the men were giving her a bigger headache.

“You won't find her name on any employee roll.” Enrique continued. “We're working an active case that's led us here. Jamie was working undercover. That's why she didn't want to tell you her name. It had nothing to do with being guilty.”

“And I'm supposed to take your word for it.”

“I am an FBI agent. I have no reason to lie.”

“Through the window it looked like there might be a reason.”

“That was my fault, Commander,” Jamie said. “I'm under the influence of something. I generally don't cry like that. I'm still feeling foggy.”

Trump looked at her. “Then maybe you should go to the hospital and get checked out first.” The first sign of concern from him. Perhaps, he was more reasonable than she'd first thought.

“I don't think it will be any clearer later.”

“Are you ready to listen to her?” Enrique interrupted.

“Fine. Go ahead.” Trump nodded at her.

“Suzanne Zinkleman is a police officer in Sunberry, Ohio. Two years ago, her husband kidnapped her son and disappeared. He's wanted on embezzling charges and kidnapping. For the past two years the FBI couldn't find her ex-husband or her son, so I decided to look for them myself.” Jamie paused.

“My bosses decided I should keep Jamie company.” Enrique picked up the tale. “They have the utmost trust in her, but her focus was the son. Mine is Zinkleman. I was told to accompany her, but let her do her thing her way. If we located them I would take over at that point and arrest Zinkleman.”

“And I would reunite my friend with her son. It wasn't all that complicated, at first.”

Jamie gave a quick rundown of how she'd met Ryan. “Enrique and I arranged to meet at the diner. As I opened the door of my motel room to leave, Ryan was there. Before I could react, he pushed me back inside the room. He put a cloth over my nose and mouth and I passed out. He was much smarter than I gave him credit for. I can't believe he found me. Anyway, I woke up in a cabin.”

“The cabin where we found his body,” Trump said.

“No, that wasn't the cabin I was in. I'm absolutely sure about that. The cabin I was in had two twin beds with comforters on them. Ryan was on a king size bed with a sheet. It wasn't the same place.”