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Through the crusted grime, she can make out an image of a young Caucasian woman with a headful of wavy blond hair. Gagnon squints at the faded print next to the ID photo. “‘Bonanno, Suzanne L.’”
Vicki Barnes leans in, eyes wide. “Bonanno? Holy crap. Isn’t that the cheerleader who…”
Gagnon nods. “Welcome back to the world, Suzanne.”
CHAPTER
50
Greenland, New Hampshire
The man still calling himself Jack Doohan walks out of the massive TA truck stop off I-95, extra-large coffee in his hand. The place is a city unto itself. Seventy-two truck bays, a diner and a fast-food joint, a mini-market, showers, and a laundry facility.
It even offers ministry services. Doohan can’t remember the last time he set foot in a church, but if he did feel the need for spiritual comfort, a truck-stop chapel would suit him just fine. No pretentions. No dress code. He climbs back into his rented SUV, rips his fresh burner phone out of its package, activates it, and dials an out-of-state number.
It rings twice before a man picks up. “Did it happen?” he asks.
Not even a hello.
Doohan can tell that the guy on the other end is electronically disguising his voice. He sounds like a robot version of one of the gangsters onThe Sopranos.Doesn’t matter to Doohan as long as the funds keep flowing into his numbered Cayman account.
“The package has been intercepted,” says Doohan.
“You sure?”
“Affirmative,” says Doohan. “I watched it happen.”
For this kind of money, he wasn’t taking any chances.
He’d followed the Sentra when it left the Walmart parking lot and headed north on I-95. The driver made the rest easy for him. As soon as Doohan saw him weaving from lane to lane, he’d placed a quick, anonymous call to the state police. Just a concerned citizen reporting a possible danger to the driving public.
A few minutes later, he saw the Sentra pulled over near the Greenland town line. When he made another loop past the scene, a second trooper had arrived.
Doohan didn’t wait around, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before Major Crimes showed up too. Because the troopers were definitely about to discover a major crime.
“We might have more jobs for you in the future,” the voice says.
“You know how to reach me,” says Doohan. “And you know my rate.”
He hangs up, then pulls out the phone’s SIM card. He steps outside and places the phone in front of his left front tire. When he drives off, it makes a satisfying crunch.
CHAPTER
51
Seabrook, New Hampshire
Icarry two hot coffees from the self-serve station in the lobby to our motel room. Garrett takes his and says, “Let’s review our notes.”
We pull two chairs together, but before we can power up our laptops, Garrett’s phone rings. The caller ID saysNottingham. “Eight thirty a.m.? Marcia must be an early riser.”
He answers and puts it on speaker.
“Is this Garrett Wilson?”
I recognize the voice. It’s Lynn LuBrano, a Barnard grad who’s Marcia’s latest assistant.
“Hi, Lynn,” says Garrett. “Brea and I are both here. What’s up?”