Page 23

CHAPTER 21

WHEN I KNOCK on Ryan Logan’s office door—the one in the FBI headquarters in El Paso, not his office on wheels—he doesn’t seem pleased that we’ve brought Ava Cruz with us.

“I don’t mean to be an asshole,” he says, “but if you want to talk to me about official task force business, we’ll need to speak in private. Only members of the team.”

Yesterday morning, he didn’t have a problem filling Carlos and me in on all the details about Llewellyn Carpenter and the planned raid. That was before we signed on the dotted line and joined his so-called team. I wonder why he won’t extend the same courtesy to Ava Cruz. Maybe it’s because yesterday he had the opportunity to show off to a couple of visiting Texas Rangers. Today, he doesn’t want to hear that someone outside the task force has something to contribute that his team might have overlooked.

I open my mouth to say I want Ava to stay—she’s a part of our investigation—but she heads toward the door, saying, “It’s okay.” She lowers herself onto a seat just outside the doorway, looking like a child waiting in the hallway while Mommy and Daddy talk to the teacher.

Carlos and I sit across from Ryan’s desk. I take a deep breath. Ryan’s attitude has started the meeting off on a bad note, and I can already feel my anger simmering to the surface. I hate when politics and egos get in the way of solving crimes.

“What can I do you for?” Ryan asks, throwing his legs up on the desk.

The office has no decorations, no pictures on the wall. Nothing but a spotless desk and the late afternoon sun pouring in through the window. The office is clearly just a temporary home for him—a place with four walls and a telephone—while he happens to be here in El Paso. In another month, he might set up shop in Phoenix or Albuquerque or San Antonio.

Carlos and I take turns speaking, starting with our discovery of the eagle feather at Fiona Martinez’s apartment and concluding with the revelation that Isabella Luna might be able to provide some insight about these eagle feather cases.

Ryan looks skeptical.

“Unless the DNA tests on the feathers come back belonging to the same bird, I’m not sure we can jump to these conclusions. Why don’t you just hold your horses on this until we get those tests back?”

“We need to move on this fast,” I say. “Isabella Luna was gone for ten days. Our latest victim, Fiona Martinez, might still be alive. The clock is ticking.”

“Besides,” Carlos says, “it doesn’t necessarily mean anything if the feathers came from different birds. No one is saying this guy’s got a pet eagle in his garage that he plucks the feathers from.”

Ryan smirks.

I plow forward, telling him what we need.

“We want to send teams to the different states,” I explain, “so we can conduct fresh interviews and rebuild those investigations from the ground up.”

“What for?”

“To find out if there’s any link between the victims, for one,” I say. “And to look for other connections. Other clues. You said so yourself that no one linked the blue panel van until the task force had an idea of what it was looking for.”

As I speak, I can hear my voice getting more and more heated, fueled by the unconvinced expression glued to Ryan’s face. I can’t help myself—I’m getting pissed.

Ryan looks back and forth between Carlos and me.

“I’m swamped planning for this raid,” he says. “I’ve got all my troops focused on that right now. If you two want to look into this with Robin Hood out there, you’re welcome to, but I can’t spare another person.”

As Carlos and I rise to leave, I know I shouldn’t say anything, but I can’t help myself.

“Ryan,” I say, “if you drag your feet on this and it turns out we could have saved Fiona Martinez and didn’t, that’s going to be on your conscience.”

Ryan, suddenly as angry as I am, jerks his feet off the desk and jumps to his feet.

“Listen here, Rory,” he snaps. “I’m juggling teams in five different states. You can’t even fathom the responsibilities I have. I don’t take the lives of the women who are missing lightly. I intend to save as many of them as I can. And the ones we can’t save, I intend to get justice for them by arresting those responsible. So don’t come in here riding your fucking high horse about how you think I should be doing my job. You’re welcome to head on back to Waco any time you’d like. We were getting along just fine without you.”

Ryan and I stare each other down. The camaraderie we shared on the gun range seems a million years ago. We were competitors then, and we acted like friends. Now we’re supposed to be working together, and it feels like we’re adversaries.

“I’ll stay,” I say. “And if you were getting along so fine, then why’d you miss these eagle feathers?”

“Whatever,” he says, and flicks his wrist to dismiss us from his office.

Out in the hall, Ava Cruz is waiting for us. As we walk to the elevator, Carlos says to her, “Did you hear any of that?”

“All of it,” she says as we step into the elevator.

She looks up at me and gives me a nod, as if to say thanks for standing up to the FBI.

It seems I’ve gained the respect of Ava Cruz, even if I’ve lost it from Ryan Logan.

I decide I’m happy with the trade.