Page 95 of Night Watch
“She did. I’ll take you to her and escort you out of the building.”
Erik followed Johnson down the hallway to another room, where Kennedy sat in a chair, her hands locked on her knees.
She looked up. “Did we identify the right man?”
Johnson nodded. “Both of you chose the guy we have in holding, and we ran his prints against the ones recovered from the shell casings at the shooting. They matched.”
“Yes!” Erik pumped his fist.At last. They had their guy.
“We can’t say he’s the guy who tried to take you out, as we have no proof he fired the rounds, but he at least loaded the ammo.”
Kennedy sat upright. “If his prints match that ammo, it means his prints also match the one lifted from the drawer at my mom’s place.”
“Indeed.” Johnson let out a long breath. “We have proof that he’s the creep who scared you half to death, and he’s now behind bars.”
“So this is it. The man who was after me—us—is locked up, and we’re safe.”
“Looks like it.” Johnson smiled. “Miller will go away for some time, and you can return to your life.”
“Not so fast.” Erik looked at Johnson. “We still don’t know if he killed Wanda or even if she was murdered.”
Kennedy frowned at Erik then shifted her focus back to Johnson. “Did any of the prints lifted from the anthrax envelope match his?”
“They did. A partial, anyway.”
Kennedy tilted her head. “So he somehow got a sample of the anthrax even though he’s not a Responsible Official.”
“We’re working on that now, but agents tell me some of the militant groups have found ways to get samples. Foolishness when they don’t know how to handle it properly. They’re more likely to kill themselves than the people they’re threatening.”
Erik resisted grinding his teeth. “To recap, we have Jeremy Miller responsible for the break-in and loading the ammo for the bullets fired at our vehicle plus for handling the gun and crowbar recovered from the river and the anthrax envelope.”
Johnson nodded.
“Did Sierra update you on the hair found at the Walker place?” Erik asked.
“She did. And you shoulda seen me in the interview room looking for blond roots in the guy’s hair.” Johnson laughed. “I’m pretty sure it was dyed. I wish I could just yank a hunk out, but you can’t do anything these days without a warrant. And I couldn’t even grab his glass for DNA collection.”
Erik could imagine the interview scene. He’d been in plenty of small interview rooms, but trying to see the roots of a suspect’s hair that had just been dyed? Would be a challenge without giving away what he was doing and providing Miller with information that Johnson wouldn’t want to share.
“So he really is our guy,” Erik stated as he let the information sink in.
“Yep,” Johnson said. “We have evidence to connect him to every crime. With his history of drug sales, I doubt it will be long until we link him to the illegal pharmaceutical dealers that Dr. Walker’s project would’ve put out of business.”
24
The morning came too soon for Erik, and he leaned back from the dining table at Drake’s condo to admire the brilliant reds and oranges of the sun rising over the Portland skyline. He took the final sip from his mug, the nutty scent of coffee lingering in the air, and his mouth protested at the extra acid as Erik had brewed the coffee strong the way his brother liked it.
Erik had gotten a few hours of sleep for tossing and turning over Kennedy returning to WITSEC protection today. He was going to drop her at her house to pack, then Deputy Kruse would transport her and Finley to their new home.
His phone chimed with a text, and he looked at the screen to find Grady’s name.
Slug pulled from the wall at Gordon’s place matches the gun Kennedy recovered from the river.
He should respond with a yay. But his heart said too bad. He just lost the argument he’d planned to use to keep Kennedy from going home today. He’d planned to tell her a man had been murdered in cold blood, and until they knew Miller was the killer, she still needed Erik’s protection. But now she didn’t. Not anymore. Not with this new information from Grady. Miller killed Gordon. At least the evidence indicated that, and Erik had nothing to keep her here. She had to do what she had to do. Once again. And once again it involved leaving him behind.
He typed a thank-you text to Grady and packed up his computer. Might as well not linger on the what-ifs and if-onlys. Better to get over to his condo to see if Kennedy was ready to leave. Besides, it would be good to get out the door before Drake got up, discovered Erik’s mood, and fired questions at him.
He grabbed his overnight bag and laptop and Pong cast him an expectant look.
