Page 52 of 3rd Tango

But the shooter was someone who knew how to use a rifle, knew where I was today.

My gaze goes back to Al’s name.

Haley slips in with a yellow notepad and pen. Taking a seat, she watches me carefully, making notes. I can’t tell if she’s concerned about my health, or has some interest in helping solve the case. Most likely JJ called and told her not to let me out of her sight.

Drawing a long line down the center, I move to the opposite corner and write:Is the shooting tied to Mom’s case? If so, how?

I stare at that question, sipping the tea. There are too many random people and facts involved with her investigation.

Setting the mug down, I straighten and begin listing all of them, not trying to make any sense of it yet.

Serial killer

Three bodies in Virginia woods

London Fog bank robbers

Lighthouses

Gayle Morton

Evelyn Jacoby

Christopher Svenson

A fresh wave of lightheadedness washes over me and I back up, plunking my butt on the hard conference table again.

“You okay there, Charlie?” Haley asks.

I rub my neck and nod. “You don’t usually come in and take notes when I’m working out details of a case.”

“Just thought you might need another set of eyes until Meg gets here.”

Yep, she’s babysitting me. That’s okay. I hate like hell to admit weakness, but maybe I need it at the moment.

My attention is drawn back to Svenson—Sven. What is it about his name that bugs me?

“Svenson is Swedish, isn’t it?” I ask out loud, as much to myself as her.

“Could be Danish.”

I look at the nickname of the bank robbers. Something from Meg’s notes tickles my brain. “The London Fog bank robbers were nicknamed that because they had British accents.”

Silence from Haley’s corner.

“Svenson was born and raised here in the States.” I read it in Meg’s notes. “Were his parents immigrants? Could be easy to confuse European accents if you’re not familiar with them. Maybe the agents who gave them the nickname mislabeled them.”

“Is that important?” she asks hesitantly, as if I might criticize the question.

“Probably not, but I wonder…”

She scribbles on her notepad. “What?”

Leaving the room, I return to my office, grab my phone, and see I’ve missed several texts. Another lecture from JJ about working, and will I go home with him and let him take care of me tonight? A tiny piece of my heart swells and I nearly tear up again.

The other is from Meg telling me they’re stuck in traffic but will be here shortly.

I text Taylor and ask if she can share the names of the agents who worked the London Fog robberies with me. I’ve requested it once, but she never got back to me. That information shouldn’t be classified.