“All right, give me a second to get in there.” Bridge went over to the table and went on his laptop.
“You know, it’s harder to do these things over the phone and on a computer. Can’t you just come in so I can show you all this in person?”
“Yeah, well, you know how I feel about that. Nothing against you, you’re fine, but you know I don’t like going in that building.”
“It’s just an FBI building, Luke.”
“Yeah, I know, maybe it’s all the years I spent at the agency, but I just don’t like going into government buildings anymore.”
“It’s not like anyone’s waiting in the weeds to shoot you once you come in or anything.”
“Yeah, well, you never know.”
“You have a lot of hang-ups, you know that?”
“Maybe one or two.”
“One or two? That’s not what your girlfriend says,” Happ said.
“What’s she been telling you?”
“Not much. Just about Mexico, your problem with helicopters…”
“OK, that’s enough.”
“She also told me—”
Bridge got into his email just in time, since he didn’t want to hear any more about his issues with anything. “OK, I’m in.”
“OK. I sent you six different pictures. Let me know if your car is in there.”
Bridge looked carefully at each picture. Two of the pictures he didn’t need to look at very long as they weren’t even close to the car he saw. They weren’t as pitch-black as the color of the car. The other four were all close. But only two of them had the windows tinted, and only one of those had the chrome wheels that he remembered.
“It’s number four.”
“You sure?” Happ asked.
“Positive. That’s it.”
“OK. I thought so.”
“Who’s it belong to?”
“Well, we did get a plate number, and it comes back as belonging to a Marianne Werther.”
“Who’s that?”
“No criminal history. Records I have show that she’s a freelance marketing consultant.”
“Which means what exactly?”
“That she gives marketing advice, I guess?”
“Does that mean she travels around a lot?”
“Could be.”
“Nothing nefarious showed up in your records?”
“Nothing at first glance. I didn’t do a deep dive, though. There’s nothing outstanding on her, she’s not wanted, and she has no history. That doesn’t mean nothing’s there. Just means there’s never been a reason for anyone to look yet.”
“Well, there’s a reason now,” Bridge said. “Because if that’s her car, then she’s got some explaining to do as to why someone took shots at me. Can you send over what you got on her?”
“Yeah, give me a few minutes on that. You want me to go talk to her?”
“No, I’d rather do that myself.”
“You might want some backup in case.”
“I’ve got backup.”
“I meant the federal kind.”
“Maybe next time. Since she’s a woman, it’d probably be a good idea to bring Nic along. She has a way of getting through to the opposite sex when I can’t. If it’s just two dudes there with her, and she’s a smart enough criminal to never show up on anyone’s radar, then she might not admit anything with us.”
“You’re taking a big leap there, aren’t you? Just because it’s her car doesn’t mean she knows what’s going on. Maybe she’s out of the country. Maybe it was stolen. Maybe she lent it to her boyfriend for the night. Could be a lot of things.”
“That’s a lot of maybes there. But you forgot one.”
“What’s that?”
“Maybe she’s involved.”
“Yeah. Well, let me know if you need anything.”
“Just the file.”
“Sending it over.”
Bridge hung up and sat there, waiting for the file on Werther to show up in his inbox.
“What about me?” Nicole asked.
“Huh?”
“I heard my name mentioned.”
“Oh. Eric found the car that shot at us outside Bevell’s place.”
“And?”
“We’re gonna go talk to the owner.”
“We are?”
“Yep.”
“Who is it?”
“Woman named Marianne Werther.”
“She friend or foe?”
“Don’t know. As of now, I’d say to be on your guard.”
“Right. Foe.”
“We’ll see.”
Bridge downloaded her file and looked at it. There were no obvious red flags. She used her passport a lot, traveling at least once or twice every month for the last few years. She’d been issued a few parking and speeding tickets, but none in the last five years. There was nothing in her package to suggest she was anything other than a regular person who may have gotten mixed up in something beyond her comprehension. They would find out soon enough.
Nicole got ready within a few minutes, and they left for Werther’s place. She lived in a three-story end-unit condo in a nice neighborhood. As they pulled up in front of the house, their eyes were immediately drawn to a vehicle a couple of cars away.
“You see what I see?” Nicole asked.
“I see it.”
“That’s the car.”
“It sure is.”
“That means she’s involved.”
Bridge thought it was likely, but he wasn’t ready to say definitively yet. “Probably. Let’s not jump to conclusions before talking to her.”
“She’s guilty.”
“Now how do you know that?”
“Her car was used in a high-profile incident.”
“Yeah? Could’ve been her boyfriend or something.”
“If her boyfriend is out shooting people, I’m sure she’s aware of what’s going on.”
“Not necessarily. History is littered with people who hid major secrets from their husbands, wives, girlfriends, whatever.”
“Nobody lends their car out unless they know where a person’s going.”
“Well, maybe the guy lied to her and said he was going to the library or someplace else.”
Nicole gave him a look and shook her head. “Trust me on this, Luke. She knows.”
“How can you be so sure when you haven’t even looked or talked to her yet?”
“Intuition.”
“That’s not a thing.”
“It’s a thing.”
“It’s not a thing.”
“It’s totally a thing.”
“OK, whatever.” Bridge got out of the car, mumbling to himself. “It’s not a thing.”
“I heard that. And it totally is.”
Bridge put his fingers on the handle of his pistol, which was tucked into the back of his pants and covered by his shirt. As they walked toward the condo, he suddenly stopped.
“What?” Nicole asked.
“Are you packing?”
“Am I packing what?”
Bridge’s eyes immediately went to her chest. “Well, uh, duh, the uh…” He then motioned to his side, trying to think of the word for a gun.
“I’m always packing.”
“I can see that, I know.
