The Sixth Man (9 page)

“Any idea what he was doing up here?” asked Sean.

The husband studied him. “You folks aren’t from around here.”

“No, we just came up yesterday. Staying at Martha’s Inn. Mrs. Burke is really nice.”

Michelle stifled a snort.

“Yeah, she’s a real nice gal,” said the husband in a way that made his wife purse her lips.

“I’ve never been around a murder before,” said Michelle. “Pretty eerie. But I love those true crime shows.”

Sean added, “I wonder why anyone would want to kill a lawyer. He was probably just up here on vacation.”

The wife started to say something, but then looked at her husband questioningly.

He said, “He wasn’t here on vacation. He was Edgar Roy’s lawyer.”

“Edgar Roy?” Sean said blankly.

“Serial killer they got up at Cutter’s Rock. Waiting to be tried. Local paper did a big story on it when they brought him here. They say he’s nuts. I say he’s just playacting so they won’t send him back to Virginia and execute him.”

“My God,” said Michelle. “What’d he do?”

“Murdered a bunch of people and buried them on his farm,” replied the wife, as she shuddered. “He’s not a man. Wild animal, more like it.”

“And this Bergin fellow was his lawyer?” said Sean. “So he had to go to this Cutter’s Rock place and talk to this guy?”

“Well, I guess he had to if he was representing him,” said the husband. He looked at his wife. “And the man’s not been convicted yet.”

“He’s as guilty as sin and everyone knows it,” his wife shot back.

“Well, anyway, I guess it takes all kinds to make a world. Wouldn’t have figured a fellow like Bergin would be a lawyer for the likes of a person like that.”

“So you got to know him?” asked Michelle eagerly. She looked at Sean and feigned naïve excitement about such serious business. “I mean this is so creepy, it’s like a TV show or something.”

The husband nodded. “Yeah, I guess it is. Anyway, the lodge
isn’t a large place. Not many guests even when we’re full up. Bergin would come down for breakfast and such. We were close in age. Natural that we would talk about stuff. Interesting fellow.”

Sean said, “And he just told you what he was doing up here? Thought he’d keep that confidential, being a lawyer.”

“Well, not at first and not in so many words. But he asked for directions to Cutter’s Rock one time, and I asked him why he was going up there. And that’s when he told me what he was doing.”

Michelle said excitedly, “Gosh, maybe he was going up to Cutter’s Rock when he was killed?”

“No, don’t think so,” said the husband.

“Because he’d already been there,” said the wife.

“How do you know that?” asked Sean.

The husband answered. “He told me he was heading up there right away. When he checked in he was in a hurry. His flight had been late and he needed to get up to Cutter’s before visiting hours were over. In quite the rush he was.”

“Okay, but maybe he never made it.”

“No, he did. Because he came back here. Had a cup of coffee. I asked him how it went. He said okay, but he didn’t really seem like it had gone okay.”

“What time was that?” asked Sean.

The husband looked at him suspiciously. “What does it matter to you?”

The wife added, “You two ask a lot of questions.”

Before Sean could say anything, Michelle spoke up. “Okay, we should have told you before.” She paused and then said in a low, girlish voice brimming with awe, “We were the ones who found his body.”

The couple looked at her and then Sean. He nodded. “We did,” Sean said quite truthfully.

The words tumbled from Michelle’s mouth. “And it was awful. But exciting at the same time. I mean nothing ever happens to us like that. I’ve never even seen a dead body before. And certainly not one that was murdered.” She shivered. “I absolutely hate guns,” she added with a completely straight face. But then her features lit up. “But it was so exciting. It’s weird, huh?”

The husband said derisively, “Well, it’s excitement I can do without.”

“We found the body around midnight,” prompted Sean. “But he must’ve gotten back from seeing Roy long before that.”

“Oh yeah, about eight. He didn’t have any dinner. Said he wasn’t hungry.”

“Did he talk to you before he left again?”

“No. I didn’t see him leave either. I know he was here around nine. Saw his light on in his room. But I got busy after that.” He looked at his wife. “You didn’t see him either?”

“No. Told the police that too. I was back in the kitchen cleaning up.”

Michelle said, “So it was after nine when he left. But when you talked to him after he got back from Cutter’s Rock, did he mention going out again? Or where he might be going?”

“No. Nothing like that.”

Sean asked, “Did Bergin get any phone calls or packages that day?”

“Phone calls, no. Most people have cells now, of course. And no messages or package at the front desk, nothing like that.”

After asking a few more questions they thanked the couple and left.

Outside, Agent Murdock was waiting for them.

“Playing detective?” he said in a surly tone, nodding toward the couple through the window.

“Just having a cup of coffee. It’s chilly today.”

“Yeah, a cup of coffee with the owners of the lodge where your guy was staying.”

“Another coincidence,” said Michelle.

“Let it be your last one,” replied Murdock.

“Can I have my gun back? I’m feeling kind of naked without it.”

“Ballistics isn’t done yet. I’ll let you know. Could be a while. Paperwork gets backed up. You know how it is.” He stared up at Sean. “I’m hoping I don’t run into you two again. Why don’t you get back to Virginia? Nothing to keep you here.”

“I thought you said we were material witnesses and couldn’t leave the area.”

“I changed my mind. So go!”

“It’s a free country,” said Sean.

“Until it’s not free,” shot back Murdock.

After he left, Michelle headed over to the gas station attendant. “Where’s the closest gun shop?”

“About two miles north of here, right on this road. Place called Fort Maine Guns.”

“Nice assortment of pistols?”

“Oh yeah. You shoot?”

“Only when I have to.”

M
ICHELLE SLIPPED
the 9mm Sig into her belt holster and let out a prolonged sigh of satisfaction.

Sean stared at her in amusement. “Smoke ’em if you got ’em.”

“Why do I think having a gun up here is a really good idea?”

“Because it is.”

“I’d just gotten used to the H&K, but I have to say I’ve always been partial to Sigs.”

“You carried a Glock for a while, too.”

“You know what they say: some girls like shoes, some girls like guns.”

“I’ve never actually heard anyone else say that.”

She stuck a couple boxes of ammo in her bag and said, “Time to head to Portland to pick up the baby lawyer.”

They had traveled about twenty miles when Michelle said, “Possible tail.”

Sean kept his gaze straight ahead. “Where?”

“Dark sedan two hundred yards back. Lose it on the curves and pick it back up on the straights.”

“Could be nothing. He could be heading where we are.”

“We’ll see, won’t we?”

When they reached the cut over to the interstate the car kept going.

Michelle said, “Guess you were right.”

“Still, good to be alert. Now if the folks at Gray’s Lodge saw Bergin at around nine and he was killed around midnight, that still leaves him with nearly three hours or so to move around somewhere.”

“He didn’t go back to Cutter’s. It’s locked down after dark. So—”

The bullet broke through the passenger’s side window, passed in front of both Sean and Michelle, and shattered the driver’s side glass on the way out.

Sean ducked down and Michelle immediately cut the vehicle to the left. She rode the shoulder momentarily while Sean looked behind them.

“No other car?” he asked.

“No. Shot came from long range.”

“Pull the car down there,” he barked, pointing to the trees set off the road. “And keep down.”

She banked into the soft grass and pulled the Ford farther down to a stop next to a stand of trees. They slid out of the car on their bellies, keeping the metal of the car between them and where the shot had come from. Michelle had her Sig out and was scanning the possible firing lines. Sean edged his head over the hood and then ducked back down.

“No optics signature that I can see.”

Michelle eyed the broken windows. “Helluva shot with us going at speed.”

“I’m taking this as a warning.”

She nodded. “Anyone who could make that trigger pull could’ve easily killed us. I think I saw the damn round pass right in front of me, although I know that’s not really possible. And auto glass these days is not the crap it used to be. To shatter
both
and keep going takes some horsepower.”

Sean studied the surroundings. “Slight breeze, lots of trees, maybe some high ground where the shooter was. Sun behind him, which favored the shot. Still impressive. We’re moving perpendicular to the shot at sixty miles an hour.”

“Seventy,” corrected Michelle. “Shooter must be a hell of a mil-dot counter. That was some fancy reticle figuring.”

Sean nodded. “Military sniper?”

“Maybe. Only question is whose. If ours, it’s not a pretty picture. Question is why, and the answer is pretty obvious.”

“Edgar Roy,” said Sean. He put his back to the front panel of the car and slid down on his butt. “Government bean counter?”

“What the file said.”

“FBI watch list. Lawyer murdered. Cutter’s Rock hospitality. Long-range warning shot for us.”

“Doesn’t add up, does it?”

“Not in the world I live in, no.”

She said, “You think it’s safe to get going?”

“I guess we have to chance it. But you have my permission to drive like you’re auditioning for NASCAR.”

No more shots hit as they raced onto the interstate.

They retraced their journey from the night before and got to Portland ten minutes before the flight from D.C. landed. They took a couple minutes to clean out the shattered safety glass, which had acted as designed, shattering into a zillion pieces but staying together as a cracked whole.

Sean waited for the deplaning passengers while Michelle went to check on another rental car.

There were thirty-nine passengers on the flight.

Megan Riley was the thirty-ninth coming through the exit gate.

She probably didn’t want to get off the plane,
he thought.

She looked over at Sean expectantly. He said, “Megan?”

She nodded and headed toward him.

Michelle walked up to him at that moment and whispered, “She looks like she’s about to start high school.”

Riley was petite, her red hair sprawled across her shoulders and her face heavily freckled. She was struggling with a roller and a heavy litigation bag that no doubt contained Ted Bergin’s old-fashioned paper files. Sean took the bag from her, shook Riley’s hand, and introduced Michelle.

When they got to the Ford, Riley saw the shattered windows and the broken glass still littering the floorboards.

“My God, what happened?”

Sean looked at Michelle, who said, “Could’ve been worse. Only problem is there are no more rentals available. Hope you brought a heavy jacket, Megan.”

“Was it an accident?” she asked.

“Not exactly,” said Sean, as he opened the rear door for her.

“W
E GOT YOU A ROOM
at Martha’s Inn, Megan,” said Sean, as Michelle drove them back. “A couple of guests checked out.”

Megan’s gaze had really never left the shattered windows. She tugged her thin jacket closer around her. “Did you report this?”

Sean glanced back at her. “Not yet. But we will. Unfortunately, the police are pretty busy with other things. Bullets that missed from an unknown shooter probably rank pretty low on their priority list right about now.”

“I know one FBI agent who’ll probably be sorry they missed,” added Michelle.

“Their priority is Mr. Bergin’s murder?” said Megan.