“You’re not going to drill on this land,” she said.
“You got that right,” he said. “No one is.”
She persisted. “Who are you?”
“Lady, I’m the person that’s going to save your life. Don’t make me regret it.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Are you always this big a pain in the ass?” he asked. “When the police tell you to leave this property, don’t give them a hard time like you’re giving me. Listen to them.”
“Our police would never try to throw us out.”
“The state police will. Start packing up.”
“We’re not leaving.”
He didn’t bother answering her; instead he headed for his car. The decision had been made; he’d call Luke from the car, and tell him what was going on, and where Bryan was.
There was no longer any need for Bryan to die; justice was going to be served in another way. And Luke would help in that process; Gallagher would use him to get the New York State Police to do what they needed to do, one way or the other.
He turned the key, started the ignition, and shared the fate of Michael Oliver.
It wasn’t until later, after the fires had been put out and the police and firemen were searching the scene for clues, that they also discovered the body of Tommy Rhodes. He was killed in his car, which was almost a quarter mile down the road from where the explosion took place. It was done execution-style, by a bullet in the back of his head.
This was where I would be for the next thirty-six hours.
I took a room at a Holiday Inn in Morristown, but I’d be spending very little time in it. I was there to find Bryan, and I wasn’t going home until he was with me.
And I was going to be out in the field with everyone else. I wouldn’t be making door-to-door cold calls, though. We had gathered data from local real estate agents, showing all homes that had been on the market in the last decade that listed a bomb or fallout shelter among their attributes. It was considered a plus in selling a home, albeit a minor one.
So I’d be going to those places that we already knew had such a shelter, after cross-checking it against our list of satellite homes. Unfortunately, this didn’t provide proof that there was a satellite hookup in the shelter itself, only in the home.
The officers on the hunt were going out in pairs, because finding the home with Bryan could prove dangerous. Gallagher could have accomplices there that might resist a rescue attempt, and the officers had to be prepared for that.
I also had a partner, the identity of whom was a big surprise. Emmit showed up, looking weak and a little worse for wear, but anxious to be of help. Emmit at half strength was a hell of a lot tougher than I was, and I was happy to have him back. I was also very grateful.
We spent a few hours going over our information, and making sure all the other officers knew their assignments. It was complicated, especially since we were doing it on the fly. We didn’t want any duplication of efforts; there just wasn’t time to waste.
I was no longer focused on the situation in Brayton. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe it was connected to the Brennan murder; the fact was that I did. And once Bryan was safe and sound, I would revisit it, and bring in the Feds and anyone else necessary to crack the case.
Brennan wasn’t the only victim in that situation. Michael Oliver had also died, and Emmit had been shot. It still seemed illogical to me. Carlton and Hanson Oil and Gas had the most to gain by preventing Brennan’s ascension to the court, and therefore had the motive to kill him. But the rest of the violence was meant to hurt those companies. Could there be killers on both sides? It seemed very, very unlikely.
But in the court of Gallagher, I had already milked it for all it was worth. Based on my last conversation with him, I think it had accomplished a lot. But he seemed intent on convincing himself without any more help from me, and I could only hope that he’d do so quickly.
But that was just a hope, and I couldn’t begin to rely on it. So Brayton would go on the back burner while we found Bryan.
It was while I was walking through the station that I saw the report on the television. There was another explosion near the site of the property in Brayton. It happened in the parking lot, adjacent to where the residents had set up their protest camp.
One person was believed killed, but either the identity of the victim was unknown or they weren’t yet ready to report it. Another person, identified as Tommy Rhodes, was shot in the head and died at the scene. The Mayor, Edward Holland, was again pleading for outside intervention, and railing against those who were not providing it.
The way things were going, I figured that by the time I got back to focusing on Brayton, they would have all killed each other.
“I have no easy way to tell you this, Jules.”
Julie Somers braced herself for what was going to come next. It was going to be bad; Lou Rodriguez was not prone to the dramatic.
“Tell me,” she said into the phone, but not really wanting him to.
“Gallagher is dead.”
The news hit her in the chest, and pushed her back against the wall. “How?”
“Someone blew up his car in a parking lot in Brayton … where the protesters are camping out.”
“You’re sure it was him?” she asked, knowing the question was a stupid one.
“I’m sure. I’m sorry, Jules.”
“Any idea who did it?”
“No, I was watching him while someone must have rigged the car. If it helps, he had gone to Carlton’s house, and was in there about twenty minutes. Based on the yelling I heard, it wasn’t a fun visit for Carlton. I looked in the window when Gallagher left, and Carlton was holding his arm at a weird angle and still moaning to some other guy who had been there.
“I left to follow Gallagher, and he went to the place he died from there.”
“What was he doing there, do you know?” She was trying to get as much information as she could for Lucas; he might have a view of the big picture in a way that whatever Lou saw could be helpful. She doubted it, but had nothing else to hold on to.
“Just walking around, looking at some of the drilling equipment, checking out the dirt, or something. I couldn’t tell, really. He spent some time talking to a woman there, the one who was on TV. Then he went to his car and that was it. The explosion took out a bunch of cars around him.”
Julie pumped Lou for additional information, but he didn’t have anything more of value to offer, and in fact wasn’t yet aware that Rhodes was also murdered nearby. And the truth was, she doubted that what he did say could help Bryan in any way.
Gallagher’s only value to her was his knowledge of where Bryan was. At the moment, she couldn’t care less if he had solved the Brennan murder, or the violence in Brayton, or the Lindbergh kidnapping. He was the only one who had known where Bryan was, and that knowledge had died with him.
And now she had to tell Luke.
We had two chances to find Bryan, and then suddenly we had one.
