An ear shattering blast had me pawing for the door knob.
Dave put a hand on my arm. “Not yet, man. We better stay out of the way. This is definitely a crime scene, now.”
The door of room 239 had blown into the parking lot, along with glass from all the windows in the building. Had the men we’d followed seen us and somehow snuck out, leaving a trap? Was this my fault? Shit.
* * *
I rubbed my eyes and glanced around the office once more. You’d think a shift supervisor would rate more than this shoebox. At least it seemed tiny with three of us in it.
“So you didn’t see anyone else enter their room?” asked Captain Justin, the balding man behind the desk. I scowled. You’d think he’d come up with different questions than the same five or six he’d been asking for the past hour. Dave and I shook our heads, not even bothering to answer this time. I didn’t dare say what I was thinking, since the tired-looking man facing us had just lost one of his subordinates. The other poor sap was still in critical condition at the local hospital.
He turned to Dave. “Let’s talk about that suspicious vehicle again.”
“Green Subaru Forester, older model. Two guys in it. Didn’t react when the explosion happened, just kept driving along at the speed limit.” Dave slouched down in his chair, trying to keep a civil expression on his face. “Did you record what I said that time, or d’you want me to say it again? God, man, I must of repeated this five times!”
Justin straightened, eyes sharpening. Before he could tear into Dave, the intercom on his desk buzzed. “Captain, you said to let you know when the FBI showed.”
He punched a button. “Thanks, Jim. They’ll be right out.” After giving us a long and searching look, he reluctantly nodded. “You can go. Just don’t let me find out…”
I stood, catching his eye as I interrupted. “If-when-we find out who did this, I’ll personally make sure you know. Don’t expect them to be alive, though.” I turned, following Dave through the doorway.
A tall, thin black man greeted us when we exited the State Police headquarters. I took his proffered hand, eyes traveling up, up his lanky frame. At least six-six. “I’m Francis, Francis Baker.”
The tall dude didn’t say a thing, even when Dave greeted him. A glance around, and he motioned towards his vehicle. “With me, please. I’ll bring you back for your vehicle after our meeting.” Four long strides and he was next to his car, unlocking the door. We hurried to catch up, me with a building frown and Dave with a nondescript look, except for his cocked eyebrow.
All was silence until we pulled out into traffic. The agent released a loud sigh. “God, I’m glad we’re away from there!” He glanced at both of us, me in the rear seat and Dave next to him. “I’m agent Long, Huett Long. Sorry for the silent treatment, but I haven’t trusted those butt-heads since they banned me from entering their HQ.”
“I hear an interesting tale in that statement, Agent Long,” I said.
He gave a deep laugh. “You could say so. Their District Commander, Major Kincaid, got pissed when he heard I was being hypercritical of his leadership style. When one of the creepoids in their office ran to him and tattled, he and I had a few words. Boils down to all interface with him on any topic is through one of his subordinates. And every word I say during a meeting I swear is recorded, so the good Major can tattle on me.”
“I’d think your supervisor would be a little unhappy with you,” Dave said.
“He would’ve been, but he’s had run-ins with the fella before I got here.” He turned into the lot of the Outback Restaurant. “Hope you don’t mind but my boss, Agent Hilyard, hitched a ride and wanted to meet you here. He hasn’t had any lunch yet.”
We were exiting the vehicle when it sank in. “Boss? Hilyard’s your boss?”
Long waved us towards the entrance. “Yeah, he’s the supervisory special agent at the field office in Charlotte.”
I hesitated before striding on. They really had wanted to keep an eye on me. By the time we reached the table Hilyard had commandeered for us, I was smiling. “Hey, Mike. What’s this about you being some kind of big cheese for the FBI?”
He leaned back with a smile. “Wish I really was. Mainly, I’m just the ops assistant for this neck of the woods.”
The disbelieving look Agent Long gave him had Dave and me laughing.
By the time we ordered, the seriousness of what had happened once more gripped all of us. “You mind giving us a rundown of what you told the State Police? This office tends to not be very forthcoming sometimes,” Mike said.
I proceeded to do so, with occasional injections by Dave. “The worrisome part is the level of professionalism shown by the men who did this.”
We paused as our lunches arrived. Agent Long had been silent during our talk so far, but looked to be getting antsy. When the waiter left, he spoke up after a glance at his boss. “Sir, I’m not sure what your relationship is with these two–may I speak frankly?” At a nod from Mike he continued, staring at me with an unnerving intensity. “Mister Baker, you’ve got a reputation with our bureau that is unsavory in parts. And quite good, in others. Why do some of our supervisors, especially back at HQ, loathe your name while others tend to think you’re the second coming?”
I perked up at that. Second coming? “Um, well, I guess the fastest way to explain would be to find out what you know about that reputation?”
He grimaced. “That’s the frustrating part. No
