Crimes of Memory (A Detective Jackson Mystery) (12 page)

Wednesday, March 13, 11:15 a.m.

True to his word, Ted Rockman had sent personnel files immediately, and River’s in-box was flooded with PDFs when she returned from her meeting with Dallas. While they printed, she skimmed through the documents looking for a woman with a connection to Jerry Bromwell, the night watchman, or someone with a history of volunteer work that suggested an environmental empathy. Eventually, River and/or Agent Fouts would read the files of every single male under thirty as well, in the off chance that the firebomb had been an inside job.

For now, she had to focus on the woman who’d had a late-night booty call with Bromwell. It was not likely a coincidence that she’d come into the building around the same time as the arsonist. She might not be an employee, River reminded herself. And it might not even be a woman. Jerry may have had a male guest. She picked up the files from the printer, found Bromwell’s,
and noted his address. It was seven minutes away on Mallory Lane.

River drove over and parked in front of the house next to Bromwell’s. The night watchman’s Ford Mustang was in his driveway and his front curtain was open. River dialed his number, and his greeting had a nervous quality that encouraged her. “Mr. Bromwell? This is Agent River.”

“Yes?”

“I’d like to come over and ask you some questions.”

“When?”

“Right now.”

“I’m not home,” he stammered. “I had to help my mother with something.”

River slipped out of her vehicle and headed for his walkway. “Then I’ll come pick you up and we’ll talk at the bureau.”

“I told you everything. I’ve got to go.” The little shit hung up on her.

River knocked on his door and called out, “FedEx.”

A moment later, the door opened and Bromwell stood there, openmouthed.

“Step outside and turn around.” River pulled out her handcuffs. “You’re under arrest for obstruction of justice. We don’t like to be lied to.”

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded. “I just don’t want my wife to find out.” His face crumpled with grief and fear. “Let’s just talk here. There’s no need to arrest me.”

River gave him her best hard stare. “It’s twelve hours after the fact. I should have had this information last night. The eco-terrorist could be preparing for another attack today.”

“I’m sorry. I was scared. If the affair gets out, I could lose my job too.”

“Come with me and make a statement, and I’ll do my best to keep from informing your wife.”

Bromwell ran a nervous hand through his thinning hair. “Let me grab a coat.”

The booking area in the FBI headquarters served as an interrogation room but also contained an all-in-one machine that took digital fingerprints and processed them into the system. But there was no camera. The FBI preferred not to document their techniques—clips that could be shown later to juries. Instead, they had suspects and witnesses sign a statement of their testimony.

River put Bromwell through all the motions but didn’t intend to turn him over to the federal marshal for arrest. She was curious to see if his fingerprints would come up in the database, or if he’d ever been arrested for trespassing or vandalism. The witness/suspect sat at the table fidgeting while she scanned the monitor. No print matches surfaced.

River sat and opened her bottled water. The threatening letter to Rockman echoed in her mind—thirty-six billion plastic bottles a year—and she had a flash of guilt. But she always recycled, so she assumed she wasn’t part of the problem. “Let’s start at the beginning. Who came into the factory to see you and what time did he or she arrive?”

“Candy Morrison. And it was just before eight.”

The last name seemed familiar, as if River had seen it recently when looking at employee files. “Does Candy work at Rock Spring?” River made notes as she talked.

“Yes, she works in the sorting room.”

“What’s the nature of your relationship?”

His face flushed pink. “We’re just friends.”

River gave him a look. “I found a pair of your underwear in the office couch.”

“Okay, we had sex.”

“Why did you lie and not tell me about her presence in the factory at the time of the arson?”

Bromwell’s mouth twitched when she said
lie
.

“We’re both married, and Candy’s husband is the plant foreman. I was afraid we’d both get fired and probably end up divorced too.”

She tried to empathize with him but couldn’t. “Does Candy have the code to the door or did you let her in?”

“She has the code.”

“Did you give it to her?”

“Her husband has it too, so she already knew it.”

River began to doubt her theory that Candy might be working with LTE. “How often did Candy visit you?”

“I’ve only been on the night watch for two weeks, but she comes on Tuesday.”

So it wasn’t a one-time thing.
“Why Tuesday?”

“Her husband plays poker that night.”

“Did anyone else know about Candy’s visits to you?”

He shuddered. “Of course not.”

“Would Candy have told anyone?”

“I doubt that.”

River shifted gears. “When did you start working at Rock Spring?”

“Five years ago.”

“Do you know anyone in the Love the Earth environmental group?”

Bromwell pulled back, visibly disturbed. “No. Why do you ask? You think I was involved?”

“I’m trying to find out how the arsonist entered the building.”

“I don’t know. Maybe Candy didn’t close the door properly.”

River thought someone might have been watching the property and discovered Candy’s visits, then took advantage of the opportunity. Still, she would question Candy. “Tell me what happened when you became aware that someone was in the building.”

“It’s pretty much like I said before. I went downstairs and I confronted the guy, then when I saw that he’d left a bomb, I went back for Candy and we ran outside.”

“Then what?”

“Candy took off and I called 911.”

“I’d like you to write out and sign the revised statement you just made.” River handed him a tablet of lined paper with FBI letterhead. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

The task force meeting would start in an hour, so she headed to the conference room and set up the whiteboard and the projector screen. River hoped ATF would be content to analyze the evidence and lend support, but not take the lead from her. This case wasn’t just about arson. If Love the Earth followed the lead of the Earth Liberation Front, more vandalism and sabotage were on the agenda as well. And the perp’s willingness to set off a firebomb—even a small one—with people in the building meant he or they had stepped up their game. Who knew what was next or how many people would be hurt?

After escorting Bromwell out of the building, River went back to her office and uploaded the images Dallas had sent from the LTE meeting in the tavern. Using in-house software, she separated out the four faces, all somewhat dark and blurry, into distinct files, enhanced them, and forwarded them to everyone on the task force.

Thanks to Dallas, they had already identified two of the men: Chris Noonaz (aka Cricket) and Adam Greene. But according to the phone call Dallas had overheard, both men were surprised by the attack on Rock Spring, so it was unlikely that either had
conducted it. The priority was to identify the other two suspects and start surveillance, if they could get more people down from Portland. In the few minutes she had left, River uploaded the two unknowns and ran a quick search for matching features. She got one hit that pulled up a man in Colorado who was still in prison. River gathered her documents, grabbed her laptop, and headed for the conference room.

Agent Fouts and Detective Quince were already present and discussing the firebombing. They wore similar gray jackets and both turned when she came in, but Fouts was older, thinner, and crankier, while Quince was handsome, sturdy, and serene.

“What’s your take?” Fouts asked. “Is the whole ELF Lite group a front for the terrorist activities, or is there a core internal group that’s acting independently?”

“I think it’s a few individuals.” River set her laptop on the table. “Four, to be precise. With maybe an unpredictable fifth. But I’ll get to that when everyone arrives.” She connected the computer to the projector and opened her digital folder.

A big man she didn’t recognize came into the room. “Darrell Shoemaker, Special Agent in Charge, ATF.” He had coffee-colored skin, military-short hair, and a deadpan delivery.

“Agent River.” She shook his hand, hoping he would be pleasant to work with.

Behind him was Agent Mason Roberts, a bomb expert in the Eugene FBI headquarters. River had given him the remnants from the bomb first thing this morning and he’d met with the ATF.

Agent Roberts took a seat but Shoemaker remained standing.

So did River. She suspected Shoemaker thought he was going to run the meeting, but this was her case. “I think we’re still expecting someone from the fire department, but I’d like to get started.”

“No, we’re handling the fire investigation, and I spent hours at the site this morning.” Shoemaker nodded at her to sit.

River remained on her feet. “Some of you may not know this yet, but the bureau considers the arson at the Rock Spring plant to be part of a larger investigation.”

“You’ve had other arsons? And didn’t call us?” Shoemaker bristled with a below-the-surface irritation looking for a place to erupt.

“No.” River turned to address him directly. “The first incident was a protest at Rock Spring fourteen months ago, during which several people were arrested. The group that staged the demonstration calls itself Love the Earth, and since that protest it has been peacefully working for its causes through petitions and legislative initiatives.” River turned back to the men at the table. She wished Agent Jamie Dallas could be there, but the fewer people who knew about her undercover involvement the better.

River continued. “The second incident was an act of sabotage at JB Pharma on January thirteenth, about eight weeks ago. A pipe carrying sludge from JB Pharma’s manufacturing plant was purposefully damaged, and toxic waste spilled out on the property. They shut down production for a week while they cleaned up. I was assigned the case, and recently became aware of a core group of individuals within LTE that are the likely perpetrators. I think they’re modeling their eco-terrorism on the Earth Liberation Front, which means we can expect more attacks, but they may not be arson.”

“I see.” Shoemaker finally took a seat. “I’d like you to keep ATF in the loop.”

River nodded. “This is a long-term investigation, and after the sabotage, we recruited an undercover agent and got her into place. I’m also looking for someone inside LTE who I can turn
as an informant. We’ve identified two of the inner core, and we might be on the verge of a breakthrough.”

“Excellent. Would you like my report?” Shoemaker said.

“Yes. Thank you.”
Now he would report and run
, she thought.

“The origin of the fire was the hallway near the employee break room. It’s the only internal area of the building constructed of flammable materials, except for the stairs and the office overhead. The arsonist used a crude incendiary device made of a metal cylinder most likely filled with a flammable liquid. It was attached to dynamite and set off with a simple timer, likely made from a watch. We only found small bits of the timer, so we can’t compare it to other bombers’ MOs, but a similar device was used in an incident in Utah. The perp, Jason Keller, is in prison for burning down his ex-wife’s business.” Shoemaker slid a stack of paper across the table to River. “This is your copy, but we still have to run some lab tests.”

“Thank you.” River slid the report into her briefcase. Arson evidence rarely led to an arrest. It was usually a witness or an informant that provided the critical information. She looked up at the group. “Our undercover agent reports that four members of LTE had a heated meeting last night at Tony’s Tavern. The meeting took place between seven ten and seven thirty. Jerry Bromwell, the night watchman at Rock Spring, called in the fire at eight twenty-seven, giving one of them enough time to drive out to the Glenwood area to set off the firebomb.”

River cued up the four images on the projector screen. “Top left is Chris Noonaz, aka Cricket, the founder of LTE. Top right is Adam Greene. He’s been a member of LTE for five years and has been arrested twice during demonstrations for trespassing and vandalism. We know he didn’t personally set the fire last night because our undercover agent was with him at the time.”

“Did the UC get any audio of their discussion?” Fouts asked. He knew River was working with Agent Dallas but understood the need for discretion.

“No, but the UC took these photos.” River tapped the bottom pictures with her pointer. “We need to identify these other two. I sent you digital files this morning. If we have to, we’ll use the media to ask for public help, but I don’t want the perps to go underground or run. That’s why we’re not bringing anyone in yet. Our UC says they’re planning something big for Earth Day. I want to find out what it is and be there to stop it and arrest all of them at the same time.”

“I have time to search the databases for these guys,” Quince offered. “But the guy on the left with the mohawk looks really young. He may not have a record.”

“Thanks.” River looked at her agenda for the meeting. “Another thing I wanted to mention is that our UC was with Adam Greene after the meeting. Greene got a call about the arson and sounded defensive, as if the caller was accusing him of doing it on his own. The UC concluded that neither the caller, nor Greene, knew about the Rock Spring arson before it happened. Which could mean we’re dealing with another group or individual, or a rogue member of LTE.”

“Well, shit.” Fouts shook his head.

“Any idea who the caller was?” Quince asked.

“Based on what we know about the hierarchy of the group, Greene was talking to someone with more authority, which means it was probably Noonaz.”

“You said our UC reported that the meeting was heated?” Fouts asked.

“Yes. At times they seemed to be yelling.”