Page 52 of Concrete Evidence
“Yes.”
“Do you recall any similarities between the cyclist and the man wearing the Nikes?”
“No. Tonight all I saw were his shoes.”
Roden typed with rapid-fire thumbs. “I’m taking a few notes here. Since you two are nearing invalid stage, I’m going to repeat the obvious. Sounds to me like Senator Elliott might be the victim of a blackmail scheme that included Colonel Abbott Wilkins and Liam Zachary. What we need is evidence.”
Roden lifted a brow at Avery. “Number one, the senator is a person of interest. Number two, the guy who rides a blue motorcycle—a man who knows you and Senator Elliott very well—is a suspect in the car bombing. Either he planted it or knows who did.”
“He called me by my pet name, the one Granddad uses.”
“What is it?”
“Sweet girl.”
Roden entered the info into his phone. “If the guy contacts you again, you have to call us immediately. Number three, although we need verification, looks like the car bombing was a threat aimed at you. Or the guy messed up and placed it on the wrong car. Another assumption on my part is the person responsible is worried about what you already know.”
“Meaning finding the body or the man’s identity?” she said.
“Or both. Think hard, does anyone hate Senator Elliott enough to frame your granddad for murder?”
Avery touched her head. Pain or her response to Roden? “You’re thinking the man on the motorcycle shot Liam and set Granddad up for it?”
“Yes, and then threatened you because you didn’t see Senator Elliott pull the trigger.” Roden glanced at the busy nurses’ area and then back to her.
“Why tell me to do all that Granddad instructed?”
“Could be to make the senator seem guilty in your eyes and convince anyone you told.” Roden paused. “I need think time on this one. The guilty person or persons has a lot to gain, and my guess it’s more than vengeance and most likely rooted in money.”
Avery blinked. “Right now I’m no help.”
“Anyone come to mind?” Roden said.
“It’s too horrible for me to say.”
“Then I will for you. The investigation needs another interview with your parents. For your sake I hope they’re innocent, but they have a lot to gain from the senator going to prison. I understand you’re in line to inherit the ranch and the business. Who wins if you’re out of the picture?”
“I imagine the estate would be tied up in court,” she whispered. “No other surviving family members.”
Roden’s gaze softened. “Here’s number four: When you’re able, concentrate on Mr. Nike’s traits—smells, sound of his voice, anything to help us locate him. Number five, we need a list of all the senator’s enemies.”
She huffed. “That would take a book. His critics are like fire ants.”
“I understand. Senator Elliott has never requested protection, right?”
“Only when in office. I remember a few threats then. Can you pull those on your end?”
Roden typed. “Will do.” He stared at her. “You’re a brave woman to work through these questions. Tomorrow I’ll make sure you have a hard copy of my notes in case something else comes to mind. One last thing, and I guess you can call it number six. I’d like the names of every person on the ranch, business, political, or church folk who just rub you the wrong way. My wife and daughters have this sixth sense about some people. I figure you have it too.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Marc longed to get out of the hospital, off the meds, and working on the case. Too many flashes of what-ifs needed answers.
The curtain parted and Roden stepped aside for the doctor. “You’re awake, Agent Wilkins.”
The older doctor’s church-picnic voice ground on Marc’s nerves. “When the IV’s finished, I’m ready to get out of here.”
“I’m keeping you overnight to monitor your concussion.”
