She nodded, thoughtful. “All right.”
After being walked to the door, Landon turned to his ex-wife and said, “Thanks for inviting me in.”
Raquelle grinned. “I’m glad I did—and that we got a chance to talk.”
“Me too.”And kiss, he thought. He smiled at her. “See you later.”
“Bye, Landon.”
He left, hoping this was the start of a new beginning for them. Or was it only a short trip down memory lane that had no real future?
Or was it contingent on whether or not Eddie was still alive and able to be a part of their lives, looking ahead?
Chapter Ten
On Monday morning, Landon stood in the conference room before other members of the Art Crime Team, going over the latest news on their current investigation. That included Eddie’s still unknown status and the homicide near his apartment complex.
With the stylus pen in hand, Landon put a close-up image of a dead man’s face on the big screen. “Two days ago, this person was found shot to death in a wooded area by Qray Lane in Gadwall Heights—just a short distance from the Bechum Apartments complex on Klatton Road, where Eddie Jernigan lives.” Landon did his best to keep his former brother-in-law’s status in the present tense, wanting it to be that way. “The victim was identified as thirty-four-year-old Lim Ramírez. Described by the Gadwall Heights PD as a drifter. According to the Falona County Coroner’s Office, Ramírez was shot three times—twice to the head and once in the chest—at close proximity, causing significant blood loss. A shot to the back of the head was described as the fatal injury. The manner of death, not too surprisingly, was ruled a homicide. Ballistics determined that the bullets and spent shell casings recovered were fired from the gun barrelof a Korth 2.75-inch Carry Special .357 Magnum handgun with five lands and grooves and a right-hand twist.”
Landon created a split screen, keeping the macabre image of Ramírez on one side and putting a photograph of Eddie beside it. “I have reason to believe that my CI, Eddie Jernigan, may have been the intended victim— corresponding with the IED used to blow up his boat and the proximity to Jernigan’s apartment.”
He switched to a still shot of a tall, white male, wearing a hooded sweatshirt—the hood over his head—jeans and dark sneakers. “This was taken from a surveillance camera in the vicinity of the wooded area where Ramírez’s body was discovered,” Landon said before putting up two other still shots side by side. “The unsub resembles a suspect seen running from the marina just before Eddie’s boat exploded as well as a man who was captured on a campus security video lurking around a parking lot at Braedon College in Joyllis Hills. He fit the description of an unsub seen checking out the vehicle of Eddie’s sister, Raquelle Jernigan, a theater professor—who happens to be my ex-wife.” Waiting a beat as that settled in, Landon finished with, “So, to make a long story short, there’s a good chance that the bomber of Eddie’s pontoon also shot to death Lim Ramírez.”
“And where does this leave Eddie?” Katie questioned, an edge to her voice, while standing. “I know he’s still missing—but is he even alive at this point? Maybe Ramírez’s killer got to your CI first…”
Landon regarded her and responded musingly, “That’s always a possibility. Just as it is that Eddie was taken against his will and out of sight. But the fact that Eddie apparently drove his own car away from the marina—andabandoned the vehicle soon after he’d borrowed money from a bartender at the Cridder Club on Gelinten Road in Gadwall Heights—suggests that he may still be alive and trying to stay that way. Though there’s been no activity with his credit cards, which could be deliberate so as to avoid law enforcement as well right now, the fact that we have nothing to indicate an abduction or homicide where it concerns my CHS tells me that Eddie is more likely than not to be among the living than dead.”
“Makes sense, all things considered,” Zach uttered from his chair. “Honestly, I hope your CI is still around to help us put the screws to Ivan Pimentel and his criminal operation.”
“You and me both,” Landon told him forthrightly. “Until such time, we’ll continue to piece together our Native American art-theft-and-forgery case against Pimentel and his cronies.”
* * *
THAT AFTERNOON,KATIE METwith her boyfriend, Tony Razo, the District of South Carolina’s US marshal, for lunch at Rundle’s Deli on Main Street in downtown Columbia.
Tony, thirty-five, was six feet tall—a few inches taller than her—well-built, and handsome with blue eyes, jet-black hair in a low fade undercut and short sideburns. Like her, he’d never been married but wasn’t opposed to marrying, if it felt right. She was of the same mind and more than willing to take it one day at a time—after dating for ten months now—and making a concerted effort to be together as much as possible, given their often-conflicting work schedules.
Katie listened with interest as Tony droned on aboutthe latest assignments to fall into his jurisdiction while she nibbled on a veggie sub and he had a chicken-salad sub. They split a side dish of ranch fries.
After rattling off the first three names on the US Marshals Service’s Fifteen Most Wanted fugitives list, Tony practically bragged, “Last night, we tracked down in Charleston a man wanted on a number of federal child-sexual-exploitation charges. Getting him off the streets was a top priority to protect children.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Katie told him, hating the thought of any children being sexually exploited for the profits of child victimizers.
Tony grabbed a ranch fry and said equably, “It’s what we do.” He smiled and said, “More good news… I heard that one of our tactical K-9s, Alfie, who was shot multiple times last week during a raid of a house in Florence, was released from the hospital this morning. He’s expected to make a complete recovery and get back to work for us.”
“Amazing, and thank goodness for Alfie’s courage under fire,” she marveled.
“Yeah,” he concurred.
When the conversation switched to her latest cases, Katie mentioned several that she was juggling as part of the Bureau’s Art Crime Team—including the Native American art-theft-and-forgery investigation, and her impending testimony in court following the recent arrest of a couple for interstate transportation of stolen modern art prints.
Tony grinned. “Impressive.”
She raised a brow. “You think?”
“Of course—especially where it concerns you.” He tilted his face and planted a kiss on her mouth.
“Good answer.” Katie showed her teeth and dug into the veggie sub. She had just begun to elaborate on the Native American art-crimes case and the disappearance of Eddie Jernigan when she spotted Landon and Zach entering the deli.
