Taylor replied in a calm voice, “My name is Maggie Taylor, and this is my partner, Scott Brodie. We are U.S. Army CID Agents investigating the murder of our colleague CID Agent Harry Vance. Are you Anna Albrecht?”
“You know I am.”
“We have received information that you were acquainted with the deceased.”
As the woman stared at Taylor, Brodie glanced at her rifle. It was a bolt-action with a wooden stock, though he couldn’t tell more without getting closer. The woman had the rifle butt braced against her shoulder, with the barrel aimed at Brodie’s midsection. Her finger was wrapped around the trigger, which meant either she was about to shoot him or, more likely, had not internalized the basic rules of trigger discipline.
“We are unarmed,” said Brodie. “Please lower your weapon.”
Anna tightened her grip on the rifle. “I don’t believe you.”
Taylor said, “We are sorry for breaching your door. There was a concern that something had happened to you.”
Anna kept her eyes locked on Brodie. “Something did happen to me,” she said in a quiet, intense voice. “Harry was murdered.”
“We’re very sorry,” said Taylor.
Brodie said, “He was a good man.”
“You knew him?”
Brodie nodded. “He was my instructor many years ago.”
“When?”
“Two thousand five.”
“Where?”
“The Army MP School in Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri.”
“All right… Show me your CID identification.”
Apparently, thought Brodie, she’d learned something from her lover.
He said, “Mine is in my inside jacket pocket. I’m going to reach for it now.” He slowly reached for his badge case and pulled it out, and Taylor did the same.
Anna glanced at their badges, nodded, then slowly lowered the rifle. “You had no right to break in here.”
“You had a responsibility to go to the police,” said Brodie. “If you had, we wouldn’t be here.” He also informed her, “The fact that you didn’t go to the police makes you a suspect.”
Anna stared at him. Ms. Albrecht was even more of a looker in person, and she had a kind of crackling energy to her. She asked, “How did you find me?”
“Dumb luck,” Brodie replied.
Taylor asked, “Why didn’t you go to the police?”
“I don’t have to answer any of your questions.”
“That is true,” said Taylor. “But we all want the same thing, Ms. Albrecht. Justice for Harry.”
“Justice. Right.” Anna clicked the rifle on safety and leaned it against the wall, then walked toward them and stopped in front of Taylor. “You’re very pretty.”
“Thank you.”
“Too pretty for a cop. I bet that causes you some problems.”
“No problems.”
