Reid crossed the lot to where Colin leaned against his truck.
He frowned at Reid.
“I know you don’t like this,” Reid said. “You can stay in your truck if you want.”
Colin shook his head. “You know I’m not a natural rule follower, but this? Illegally entering a suspect’s room and potentially contaminating evidence. That makes me pause.”
They’d both been trained well on following protocol at the FBI, and Reid understood Colin’s hesitancy. “I get it. Trust me. I do. But no one is willing to get a warrant, and I need to move forward to keep Megan safe.”
“Can’t Russ help with that?”
“I wish he could. He asked Chief Gleason and struck out. The chief said if the forensics from the bomb implicate Fowler, he’ll be all over requesting a warrant. For now there’s no probable cause. Ditto for the warrant for the gas station records. And before you ask, Jack wasn’t any help either.”
“Okay, then we go in. I just don’t like it.” Colin pushed off the truck and held a key out to Reid. “Guess with this at least we won’t be breaking and entering. Room seven.”
Reid sought out the correct room and kept his eyes on it. “And how did you get this?”
“I went to the front desk after you called to say you were coming. Clerk on duty tonight is young and female and might’ve been susceptible to my many charms. Maybe too susceptible.” Colin laughed.
Reid grinned and shook his head. “Thanks for sacrificing yourself for the team.”
Colin nodded. “Let’s get it done before she changes her mind and comes looking for the key. Or me.”
They crossed the lot, and Reid took in the building with chipping paint, cracked windows, and trash in the parking strip where the grass had given way to weeds. “The kind of neighborhood I’d rather visit in daylight.”
“Amen to that, bro.” Colin pulled back his camo jacket and rested his hand on the butt of his sidearm as he struck out toward room seven.
Reid followed, and they traveled down the fractured sidewalk stained with things Reid didn’t want to guess at. Fowler’s room sat near the end of the two-story building. The door held small, vibrant blue patches, but most of the paint had faded to gray with bare splotches of metal showing through.
Reid pounded on the door. “Fowler. We need to talk to you.”
Reid stepped to the side of the door as had Colin. A suspect who felt cornered might plug the door full of bullets and it wouldn’t be good to be standing in the line of fire.
Not today, though. Fowler didn’t fire a single shot. Nor did he answer.
Reid unlocked the door, drew his weapon, and shoved the door in. “Show yourself, Fowler!”
He waited, counting down to ten with his fingers, then nodded his intent to breach before entering. He went straight ahead into the large suite that smelled like dirty socks and stale beer. Empty bottles lay on a scarred coffee table next to a small sofa in a sitting area. Stained sheets and ragged blankets were bunched at one end of a bed, and a lumpy pillow propped on the other end.
Reid motioned at the single door that led from the room and then crossed to it. He shoved it open to reveal a small bathroom with a chipped sink and tub.
“Clear,” he called out and holstered his weapon before stepping back out to do a more thorough inspection.
“Looks like he slept here at least one night, and the cleaning crew hasn’t come in,” Colin said. “Had to be before I had eyes on the place.”
Reid nodded. “No sign of a suitcase or bag.”
“Maybe he moved on but didn’t check out.”
“Which makes no sense,” Reid said. “Why pay for a room you aren’t occupying?”
“Maybe the room was meant to distract us while he stayed elsewhere.”
“Could be.”
“Nothing much here to search.”
“I expected to find surveillance pictures of Megan or some indication that he’s been watching her.”
