“Yes. It was late...around nine or nine-thirty. I had to work late that night. My boss was up my,” she swore while jerking her thumb upward, “about getting my reports done. As I came to the door of the apartment building, a group of rowdy teenagers cut me off as they rushed into the lobby.” She tapped the paper. “He saw what had happened, smiled at me, and quickly opened the door for me. I thanked him and took the stairs.” She handed the sheet back to Randall.
“Did you happen to notice anything specific about him? Scars, tattoos, anything that could help us in—”
“He had a gun.”
Randall nodded while folding the paper. Makes sense...since he might’ve been here to commit a crime.
“And a badge, too.”
Randall froze in place, his fingers still pinching the folded picture he had tucked into an inner breast pocket on his jacket. “A badge?”
“Yeah. When he reached to open the door for me, his suit coat flared, and I spotted it on his belt, just forward of his gun. I just assumed he was a cop.”
“Did you happen to get a look at the badge? Was it a Seattle P.D. badge?”
“No. It was silver...or gray. It was hard to tell in the low light. Anyway, I was more focused on the gun. But I did see a star.”
“Any words on this star?”
Belinda lowered her gaze to the floor. Holding a finger to her lips, she shook her head. “I think I remember seeing an ‘M.’ Or, it could have been an ‘N.’ Again, the lighting wasn’t good, and my eyes aren’t what they used to be.”
Pivoting to face Randall, Devlin spoke into her mobile. “I can’t believe this.”
Randall squinted at her blue jean shirt as it flared slightly when she turned toward him. His eyes dropped to her belt before he flicked them toward Belinda. I think I remember seeing an ‘M.’ “Ex-excuse me for a second, ma’am. I’ll,” he wagged his finger at her, “be right back.” He hurried over to Devlin, threw open the right half of her shirt, and plucked an object from her belt.
She frowned at him.
He lifted the badge, a gold circle surrounding a five-pointed star, the words ‘UNITED STATES’ on top and ‘MARSHAL’ on bottom. “I need to borrow this.” Returning to Belinda, he showed her Devlin’s shield. “Did it look anything like this?”
The woman’s face lit up. “Why I...I think it did. I’m almost positive,” she pointed, “that that’s what I saw.” She hesitated. “But it wasn’t gold, though. I’m sure what I saw was either silver or gray.”
Knowing a silver badge was for deputy marshals and a gold badge was for marshals, Randall waved a dismissive hand. “That’s all right, Belinda. You’ve been a huge help. Thank you.”
She eyed her watch. “Is there anything else? I really should be getting to work.”
“No. Thank you again for taking the time to speak with us. Have a nice day.”
She picked up her brief bag, “You too,” closed the door, turned a deadbolt, and fast walked to the elevator.
Devlin: “Please keep me posted, Deputy Director. I’ll...”
Randall walked up to her and held out her badge.
She took it and clipped it back onto her belt. “...I’ll let you know if we make any further progress here.” She ended the call and glanced at the closing elevator doors. “Get anything from her?”
“I did.”
She shoved her phone into a pants pocket.
“What did Thorn want? I heard you getting upset.”
Sighing, Devlin shut her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re never going to believe this. The former deputy director, Michael Crane, killed two deputy marshals and escaped custody.”
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
.
Chapter 10
‘H-A-L’
Envisioning the man he and Devlin had arrested less than a week ago, the same man who had orchestrated two different assassination attempts—one on Devlin’s family and another on Devlin and Randall—Randall gaped at his partner, his eyes wide. “What? How did that happen?”
“Nobody knows yet. They found the dead agents in an agency vehicle near Fredericksburg. Both men had been shot in the back of the head at close range.”
“What was Crane doing out and about?”
“Apparently, he had agreed to tell everything he knew about the illegal gun trafficking operation he was running in Mexico in exchange for being able to visit his wife’s grave one last time. Thorn’s keeping me in the loop on what develops.” Devlin jutted out her chin at Randall. “Your turn. You said you discovered something.”
He fished out a pen from a jacket pocket. “Let me have one of your business cards.”
She complied.
He doodled on the card’s white backside while telling her about his interview with Belinda.
Devlin laid hands on her hips. “Do you think this guy was a marshal?”
He lifted an elbow toward the elevator. “She seemed quite sure of what she had seen.” Pivoting his body, so he was shoulder to shoulder with his fellow agent, Randall showed her his sketch. “So this is close to what Faith drew on that piece of paper.”
“Okay.”
“If you continue on with this curved line up here and,” he dragged his pen clockwise around the points of the star, “make a circle...then add,” he wrote the letters ‘H-A-L’ after the word ‘MARS,’ “you get—”
She snatched the illustration from him. “You get Marshal. Faith was trying to tell us U.S. Marshals took her?”
Randall put away his pen. “It’s possible. That would explain the gun and badge Belinda saw.”
“Why would marshals kidnap a Seattle detective, the sister of another marshal?”
He shrugged. “Maybe they weren’t marshals.”
“Or maybe,” Devlin grabbed his forearm and stared straight ahead before turning toward him, the color in her cheeks fading, “this has something to do with Crane’s escape.”
Randall slipped hands into pants pockets and scowled at the tips of his shoes for a moment. “The timing of the two events does seem suspicious.” He confronted her. “But we arrested Crane before your sister was taken. How could he have pulled that off from jail?”
Devlin shook her head. “That means nothing. He could’ve had Faith’s abduction
