Dead Aim by Iris Johansen Read Free Book Online Page A

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    Chapter 3.
    Denver, Colorado
    "None of them is here." Alex wearily leaned back in the chair and gazed at Leopold across the desk. "Do you have any more mug shots?"
    "None that meet your description. That's why we have databases. You'd have been sitting in that chair for the next year if we'd let you do a random check."
    "They've got to have records. People who do things like this don't go through life without stumbling over the law."
    "I agree. That's why I've set up an appointment for you at the local FBI field office tomorrow morning. They have a much more extensive database." Leopold poured a cup of coffee and handed it to her. "If you're up to it."
    "I'm up to it." She took a sip of coffee. "I've got to be up to it. They can't get away with this."
    "Then we'll find them. If the databases don't pan out, we'll call in a police artist and you can give us a description to work with."
    "Jesus, why didn't I take their damn pictures that night? I didn't even think of it. I saw Ken blow up and I--" She drew a shaky breath. "I screamed. Isn't that pathetic? Instead of doing something useful. I screamed."
    "Even if you'd taken their pictures, your equipment is buried beneath that landslide."
    She made a face. "I can't see you letting that stop you if you were convinced the dam was sabotaged. You'd bring in the cranes and every federal security organization in the country. Right?"
    "Right." Leopold smiled. "But you didn't take their pictures, and all the experts are still saying there was no sabotage. We've never found proof that Nader's helicopter was brought down. So all we have is an attempt on your life." He held up his hand. "I don't want to minimize the seriousness of that, you understand."
    "I know." Leopold was a good guy and he had been as sympathetic and helpful as he could during the last few days. "The proof's got to be there."
    "Then maybe the FBI can find it." The phone rang and he answered it. A moment later he handed the phone to her. "Speak of the devil. Bob Jurgens. He wants to talk to you. Remember him? I introduced you to him at the hospital."
    "Why shouldn't I remember him? I wasn't that banged up." She remembered Jurgens very well. Smooth, polite, and very disapproving.
    Jurgens's voice was just as disapproving when she took the phone from Leopold. "I understand you're not having much luck with identifying the men who attacked you. I think you'd better reconsider our offer to put you in protective custody. A safe house is the obvious solution. I have just the place that--"
    " No . Not only no, but hell, no." Her hand tightened on the phone. Why wouldn't he leave her alone? "Maybe I didn't make myself clear. Arapahoe Junction isn't that much different than what happened at WTC. You give in to people like this and let them change your life and they win. I won't let them win."
    "I'm sorry to hear you say that. I hope Leopold can persuade you to change your mind. I'll be in touch."
    She handed the phone back to Leopold. "He wants to put me in some safe house and let me twiddle my thumbs while he completes his investigation."
    "So I understand. Personally, I don't care much for those by-the-book FBI agents, but he appears to be very thorough and he's got a team out there scouring the entire crash area."
    "He said he hoped you could convince me to let him tuck me away. Does he have you in his pocket?"
    Leopold shook his head. "We try to work together, but we run our own show. I admit he did call and suggest I try to influence you. The safe house isn't a bad idea."
    "It's a very bad idea." She stood up. "And it probably originated with John Logan." She shook her head as she translated a flicker of expression on Leopold's face. "You too?"
    "He talked to me. I didn't think you'd go along with it. I told him we had your security well in hand."
    "So you're responsible for that blue unmarked Toyota that's been following me since I left the hotel this morning?"
    He grinned. "Busted. But how do you know it's not someone