“Wow.” She muttered an expletive. “Was anyone on it?”
“No, thankfully. It was unoccupied.” Landon sighed. “Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to reach Eddie.”
Katie paused. “You think he’s dead?”
“Don’t know.” It was an honest answer but a shaky one at best. Landon reached his Tahoe. “I’m heading over to his place now.”
“Have you spoken to your ex about this?” she asked tentatively.
“Briefly,” he answered musingly, having been upfront with her and the Bureau about his relationship with Eddie. It—or he—was seen as an asset rather than a liability in gaining important intel on the underbelly of the art world. “Raquelle was at the marina when I got there. Eddie left her a voicemail indicating something was up—without elaborating. Needless to say, she’s not taking this very well. Neither am I.”
“Not too surprising,” Katie told him. “But you don’t know what you don’t know as to Jernigan’s status…”
“True.” Landon got inside the SUV. He wouldn’t get too far ahead of himself, resolving to keep an open mind, within reason.
After they disconnected, Landon contacted the Bureau’s Weapons of Mass Destruction Directorate’s Investigations and Operations Section to report a possible WMD incident, assuming Eddie’s boat was, in fact, bombed. The FBI would, as always, coordinate its efforts with the Falona County Sheriff’s Office Bomb Squad and certified explosives specialists from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives in getting answers.
For Landon’s part, with Eddie as his CI in a major federal investigation, and possibly missing in action, there was an even greater sense of urgency here to solve the case and locate his ex-brother-in-law. And then there was Raquelle. The ordeal of seeing her brother’s boat burstinto flames before her very eyes had to weigh heavily on her. The only way of getting that vision out of her head would be to find Eddie still alive and in good health. And able to stay that way.
Both could be a high bar to clear, from Landon’s point of view. He had a sense that the explosion was much more than making a statement. Or sending a message. Though it wasn’t totally implausible that Eddie could have blown his own boat to smithereens, perhaps to throw pursuers off the trail, Landon seriously doubted he would take such extreme measures. He knew that Eddie treasured his boat like one might a newborn baby. As such, it was inconceivable that he would want to destroy it.
Moreover, Eddie didn’t have it in him to do something that put other boats and their occupants at risk just to save his own skin.
That left Landon certain that the explosion was likely the work of the art-crime syndicate that Eddie was trying to help them to bring down.
How had Eddie managed to avoid a date with death? Or had he?
Landon considered the man who Raquelle spotted fleeing the scene. He agreed with her that had it been Eddie, she would have recognized him. Unless she only saw the man wearing a hoodie with a passing glance and, as such, never truly homed in on him with clarity.
I’ll give Raquelle the benefit of the doubt that it wasn’t Eddie she saw, he told himself as he followed her car to Eddie’s residence in the nearby town of Gadwall Heights. Landon feared that Eddie, if alive, would not have gone there if he believed they were onto him and figured out that he wasn’t on the boat.
But what if Eddie never got the opportunity to escape?
Landon was bothered by the fact that neither he nor Raquelle had heard from her brother. If Eddie felt his back was up against the wall, wouldn’t he reach out for help to either the FBI or the person he cared most about (apart from himself) in the world?
I can’t put myself inside the man’s head, Landon thought smartly, even if as his CI and former brother-in-law he had gotten a fair read on Eddie. Or had he?
After arriving at the Bechum Apartments complex on Klatton Road, which was close to a forested area, Landon got out of the SUV and walked up to Raquelle, who was waiting for him.
“I have a key,” she said, holding it up for his eyes. “Eddie wanted me to hang on to his spare one, in case I ever needed to drop by for any reason and he wasn’t around.”
“Nice of him,” Landon said, wishing he had thought of extending the same offer to her to stay at his house when he moved back to the greater Columbia region. Would she have accepted? “Do you see his car anywhere?” He scanned the parking lot, looking for Eddie’s white Audi Q4 Sportback e-tron.
“No—it’s not here,” Raquelle told him, a note of regret in her tone.
“Maybe he left the car elsewhere deliberately and walked the rest of the way.” Landon wasn’t sure he bought that but wanted to hold out hope that Eddie was holed up inside. “Let’s check it out.”
“All right.”
“I lead, you follow,” he warned her, in case they ran into trouble.
Raquelle didn’t argue the point, but she was clearly anxious to appease her worry regarding her brother’s whereabouts.
Landon walked up to the door of the third-floor unit. Before he could ask Raquelle for the key, he could see that the door was slightly ajar. Instinctively, he pulled out his firearm and told her, “Wait here.”
Though seemingly irritated at the order, she complied. He kicked the door open and went inside to check it out. His feet were firmly planted on the hardwood floor as Landon looked for any signs of movement.
The place had been ransacked. While he had never known Eddie to be a neat freak, it was obvious to Landon that someone had done a number on the apartment, its contemporary furnishings turned upside down, inside out. Clearly, someone was looking for something, apart from Eddie himself.
