US Marshall 03 - The Rapids by Carla Neggers Read Free Book Online Page A

the bushes, as the gunman who’d shot Rob had done in Central Park four months ago.
    From what she could see, Tom had been shot up close and personal. She felt a sense of revulsion, anger and grief, even as she forced herself to pull back from her emotions and focus on the problem at hand.
    Rob pushed out to the edge of the dock. “Someone will have called the police by now.”
    As he spoke, Maggie heard sirens. Neither she nor Rob had authority as law enforcement officers in the Netherlands. Given the circumstances, they weren’t even armed.
    But they had to make sure there was nothing they could do for Tom.
    Rob knelt down and grabbed Tom’s arm. His body was snagged on a support post, and Maggie helped, taking hold of Tom’s belt. His skin was warm, water pouring off his clothes as they managed to get him up onto the platform.
    He was dead. He’d probably died instantly.
    “I just saw him,” Maggie said. “It wasn’t, what, even five minutes ago? The killer can’t have gotten far. Someone must have seen something, someone—”
    Rob glanced up at the frightened and horrifiedpeople along the fence. “At least we know one of us didn’t kill him.”
    Maggie nodded. At least they knew that much, if not a damn thing else. Like why Tom was here. If he’d spotted her, heard her. If he’d taken off because he didn’t want to talk to her.
    If he’d known his killer.
    And if his killer had anything to do with the American fugitive who’d been picked up in Den Bosch two days ago.
    “Come on,” Rob said. “The Den Bosch police are going to want to talk to us.”
    A dead American in their small city?
    The local police most certainly would want to talk to the two U.S. federal agents who’d pulled him out of the river.
    “He was the kind of guy who got homesick for Krispy Kreme doughnuts,” Maggie said, realizing her front was soaked with river water.
    “A nice guy,” Rob said.
    “A very nice guy.”
     
    It was four o’clock before Rob and his DS escort left the police station, their clothes finally dry, every question asked of them answered. Maggie pushed ahead on the narrow, sunny street. “I need to walk,” she said.
    Rob didn’t object. It was a hot, still afternoon. The city seemed quiet, almost as if it were mourning the violence that had taken place there a few hours ago.
    An exhaustive search hadn’t produced a single lead on Thomas Kopac’s killer so far.
    No one saw anything. No one heard anything.
    Except for Maggie Spencer.
    Rob said nothing as he walked alongside her. She seemed preoccupied. Not, he thought, that she was an easy woman to read.
    Various Dutch and American authorities had swarmed the Den Bosch police station, including the FBI and Regional Security Officer George Bremmerton, Maggie’s immediate boss. All of them grilled both her and Rob about what they’d seen that morning, what Maggie had talked about with Kopac in recent days, why he’d shown up at Rob’s hotel last night.
    Although she knew Tom Kopac well enough to consider him her first real friend since she’d arrived in the country, Maggie had been straightforward and professional with her answers. She’d also had her own questions, namely, if there was anything about Tom Kopac that she hadn’t been told.
    Rob had that same question himself.
    Den Bosch police were trying to locate people who’d been in the vicinity of the boat tour that morning, interviewing the café’s wait staff and manager—anyone who might have seen the American who’d turned up in the Binnendieze. Maggie’s sighting ofKopac and the subsequent commotion along the river pinpointed the approximate time he’d been killed.
    Apparently someone had walked up to him, shot him and disappeared.
    Not an easy feat to pull off.
    The brutal, calculated murder of an American diplomat had taken Dutch and U.S. authorities by complete surprise. They had Nick Janssen in custody. The killing was supposed to stop.
    “Another American in trouble on Dutch