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"That's certainly a possibility. It’ll be taped off as a crime scene because Harvey tried to kill you when you were in the lobby, but he’s incarcerated now. The police won’t have any reason to be there now. How much do you want to bet that Wendell or Helen has access to it? Which would make the perfect place to hole up for a while."

"Right. So the motel is on the way. We’ll check it out. If it looks like no one is there or has been there, we'll go to Denny's grandparents' cabin. Or even to the cabin where they stayed before," she said.

“I agree that’s the best move.”

Monica got a call. "It’s my boss. Yes, sir?" She put it on speakerphone.

"One of our agents questioned the couple who own the cabin where all this went down. They said they know Denny becausethey're neighbors who live about a quarter of a mile apart. But they hadn't told him he and his girlfriend could stay there. Denny has his grandparents’ cabin to stay at. So they were pretty steamed about the whole thing."

"Good. I'm glad they're also not involved."

"From the sounds of it, they're sincere. We checked into their background, and he owns a nightclub in a town north of White Bear. She has an accounting business there. Neither has had any run-ins with the law."

"Okay, thanks!"

"Did you question Lionel and Teague?"

"Yes, sir." She explained what had happened.

"I thought you were supposed to be resting up."

"I am. But I'm still checking into things in case we can get a lead."

"I don't want you to overdo it and need even more time off."

Andy smiled at her.

Monica smiled because,as it was, she wasn't taking off that much time, but she knew from the tone of her boss's voice that he was glad she was still working the case. He was known to have a sense of humor. "Yes, sir."

"Keep me informed."

"I sure will." Then they ended the call.

Neither she nor Andy said anything for a moment. He finally cleared his throat. "You're working on your time off."

Monica chuckled. "Yeah, it's a joke between us. He knows when I get injured—I was shot once in the leg—I recover quickly, and I'm back on the job."

"I hope whoever shot you is in prison or dead," Andy said.

"Uh, no, he was a fellow agent and meant to get the perp, but hit me instead. When I went down, he managed to take out the gun-wielding robber. Of course, the agent was given grief because of shooting me, but I told my boss and the investigators that he was a fine agent, and he'd saved my life.”

“Fine agent.” Andy scoffed.

“He was. The robber had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and he would have shot and killed me if my partner hadn't hit me, making me fall, and then taken the guy out."

"Did your partner purposefully shoot you?" Andy asked.

She smiled. "No. He was just trying to hit the robber. The poor guy was so shaken up about it that he quit the FBI. I felt bad for him because he was good at his job, except for shooting me. But one incident like that can mar someone for life."

"That's for sure, but if you ever need to shoot me to get me out of the way so you can save my life?—"

"I'll make sure it's just a graze."

He laughed.

This time, they had traveled much faster to the motel than when driving in a caravan to White Bear. He was surprised when they finally came upon the motel. The lobby was taped off as a crime scene, but no one was there. There were no vehicles, no lights on in any of the rooms, the lobby was dark, and the closed sign was still on the glass door.

"Looks dead," Monica said.