Mountain Investigation by Jessica Andersen Read Free Book Online Page B

she’d do well to remember that.
    Chest aching with a hollow sense of disappointment she knew she shouldn’t feel, Mariah turned to Johnson. “As I said, I’ll cooperate, but I’ve got conditions.”
    “We’ll see.” He gestured to the men flanking her. “Take her inside, let her clean up and call counsel. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
    The uniformed cops escorted her to a small, spare room where a pair of paramedics waited for her, equipment at the ready. One was a pretty, light-haired woman with kind eyes; the other an older, heavyset man who looked like he’d rather be napping.
    Mariah held up both hands. “It’s not all that bad, really. Just some cuts on my feet, and a pellet-burn on my calves.” And a hell of a headache, and some serious room spins, thanks to the residue of whatever Lee and Brisbane had been pumping into her system. When she listed it like that, she started to feel worse by the second.
    The light-haired woman shook her head apologetically. “We’ll treat your injuries, for sure. But first theCSIs want to collect your clothes and photograph you. We’ll need a blood sample, too.”
    Two and a half years earlier, Mariah would have—and had—done whatever the cops had asked. Older and wiser now out of necessity, she said, “Then I’m going to want to call my lawyer first.”
    She was done being a pushover.
     
    O VER THE NEXT EIGHTEEN hours, Gray fought to get himself put back on the case and lost, fought to keep his active-duty status and lost that battle, too. Johnson was furious that he’d disobeyed orders. More importantly, the SAC was embarrassed that Gray’s breach of protocol had yielded a badly needed break in the case. As far as Johnson was concerned, the new intel didn’t cancel out Gray’s insubordination, not after he’d been specifically warned to stay away from Mariah.
    Those conversations took place in snatches, amid the information storm that followed the new developments. The response team reported back with little new information from the cabin, and the infrared helicopter sweeps failed to turn up anything but wildlife and a few hardy preseason campers up on the ridgeline. There was no sign of Lee Mawadi or the other man, whom Mariah hadn’t yet identified from among al-Jihad’s known associates. More, although Mariah was convinced Lee had tried to question her, and had called al-Jihad for help when she’d proven resistant, she claimed to have no idea what they wanted from her.
    It was possible that the forthcoming detailed forensic analysis of the cabin might yield some clue as to wherethe terrorists were going, where they’d come from or what they wanted with Mariah. However, it would be days at the earliest—more likely weeks—before the relevant clues were teased out from among the normal detritus of a lived-in home. The Bear Claw crime scene analysts were excellent, and had strong ties to the federal investigators, but they weren’t miracle workers.
    Meanwhile, the members of the prison break task force, who had scattered over the past months when the investigation had moved away from Bear Claw, were being reassembled. As before, the investigation would be headquartered partly at the FBI’s Denver field office, partly at the Bear Claw City PD. However, Gray wouldn’t be part of the task force at either location. Johnson had made it crystal clear that he didn’t want to work with a renegade, couldn’t afford to risk a court appeal if one of his agents used questionable methods during an investigation. The SAC had offered Gray a transfer or a desk to ride, but they both knew he wouldn’t take either. The offer had been an empty formality, nothing more.
    Which was why, at just past noon on the day after he’d rescued Mariah and broken the news that Lee Mawadi was back in town, Gray was in his Denver office, packing his personal effects. His service weapon and badge were on the desk, weighting down his letter of resignation.
    He didn’t feel grief at