"Where are we going?" I asked Maddox as we turned on to the highway, traveling in the opposite direction from the hospital.
"I arranged a meeting for you with Special Agent Miller. He doesn't have a lot of time because he's working on a case but when I explained the situation, he said to come there directly.
"That's great!" My spirits rose at the thought that Miller could expose new information. I wasn't sure it would be as dramatic as the tales I heard from my colleagues, but I was convinced he would have something pertinent to add. Mostly, I wanted to know how Solomon ended up working with the FBI and what kind of special consulting he did.
Maddox cut a glance at me before turning his eyes back to the road. "I don't want you to get your hopes up."
"How can I not?" I wondered. "We've already had one huge break in finding that wallet. Now, there's a man who might be able to give me answers about Solomon's recent history in Montgomery."
"Might be able to give you answers," repeated Maddox.
"There's something else," I said, noticing the frown lines on Maddox's forehead. They had visibly deepened since the day I met him but they somehow only increased his attractive ruggedness. I just hoped his frown lines weren't from the years of worry I might have inadvertently caused. "What is it? What aren't you telling me?"
"It's that wallet."
"What about it?"
"It's a rookie move. It's not a hit man kinda move. What hit man have you ever heard of that manages to lose his wallet while fleeing the scene?"
"I don't know many hit men," I replied honestly.
"I've come across a few in my career, and it's ridiculous that a professional would leave something behind that could identify him. If he were so inept that he lost his wallet, he might as well not even have bothered to wear a mask or gloves. It's too sloppy."
"What are you saying? Do you think the wallet was deliberately planted?"
"I'm not saying that." Maddox frowned harder. He stopped at the red lights, and paused before continuing, "The motorcycle was dumped in the outskirts of the city, in an area where it was unlikely to be found, and that was a smart move. And burning it? Even smarter. That gets rid of any possible evidence. But, leaving a wallet right next to the wreck? Why would he even have carried his wallet with him? What was he planning to do? Stop off at a store for a snack? Or buy some gas?"
"That does seem pretty unlikely."
"It's ridiculous! A hit man carries only what he needs: his weapon; and he wears a disguise that he ditches as soon as possible and destroys."
"If there were a car waiting for him where he dumped the motorcycle, maybe it fell out of that? Or maybe he switched his clothes and the wallet fell out of a bag?" I surmised.
"Possibly, but if I were a hit man, I would switch the vehicles, and burn up the old one. Then I'd get into my new vehicle and flee the area. I would have my new vehicle already gassed up and ready to go. I wouldn't waste any time changing clothes."
"What would you do with the gun?" I asked. "We have the motorcycle. We might have the shooter's identity. But where's the gun?"
"I'd dispose of that item fast. I wouldn't want it found on me. Even the smallest thing can accidentally catch a killer. A blown taillight, going a few miles over the speed limit, a possible identification from a nosy neighbor, any of those things could cause a smart cop to search a vehicle and find the gun. So losing a wallet like that? I'm thinking now it's a plant to throw us off."
"Or maybe the hit man is that stupid. Fletcher and Flaherty found the wallet, and if they also find the guy, and the weapon he used in his possession, would that be good enough evidence for you?"
"Yes, but if they do connect all those dots, he would still have to be the world's worst hit man. The good ones never get caught." The light turned green and Maddox accelerated.
"Then I hope he is the worst one in history."
"Another thought I had, Lexi, is that it doesn't sound too professional to me, and that makes me wonder who could have hired the guy. Your agency colleagues came up with a lot of names, right?"
"Yes."
"Wealthy, connected people?"
"I don't know but some, yes."
"Get someone to check into who has a lot of money and bears a grudge and who doesn't. Wealthy criminals with grudges hire only the top-quality criminals to do their dirty work."
"You think someone cheap might have done it? That's ultimately what you're suggesting? Someone cheap who had a grudge just hired someone who was inefficient and that's why we might have found them?" I tried to process that, but couldn't. It seemed so insulting.
"Yeah, if that wallet got dropped accidentally, that's exactly what I'm suggesting."
I gulped and stared out the window for a little while, looking at the houses and businesses we passed, wondering if we were focusing entirely on the wrong people. Initially, I'd been looking for something from Solomon's distant past for the reason he was attacked, something that was planned over many years. Now I had to wonder if a hastily thrown together plot, coupled with an inept hit man meant it was something far more recent. I couldn't argue with what Maddox said. It wasn't just reasonable, but quite plausible.
Reaching for my phone, I called Lucas. "Did the traffic cam footage pay off?" he asked.
"It did. The motorcycle was nearby but burned out. Fletcher and Flaherty are checking a lead on a private security camera that might have caught something and I would like you to find all the information you can on a Mikey Gibbs and pass it on to them."
"On it."
"Where are you with the list?" I asked, knowing I didn't have to tell him which list I referred to.
"Nine are dead. I'm still working on the rest of the names."
"Is there anyone local on the list?"
"I don't know. I don't think so."
"I need some local names, perhaps someone connected to one of our agency cases."
"Is there something more I should know?" he asked.
"Find out if anyone local has any connection to Mikey Gibbs."
"Okay," he said slowly. "Anything..."
"That's all," I cut him off. "Talk soon." I hung up, and waited for Maddox to say something. He didn't. Instead, he drove in silence, leaving me to think hard about his idea. The suggestion that someone close to us, maybe even another Montgomery resident, could have been responsible for the murder attempt was worrying. Having someone from Solomon's past be the one who ordered the hit possessed a greater degree of personal removal from us and the hit man. Adding time and distance between us made it harder to track the perp, but someone close to us was a different matter. They could even be someone I knew. They could be someone with whom we spoke or conducted business with. They could be around the corner or someone passing me on the street. I looked around with renewed interest, noticing the people in cars, pedestrians, a dad with a double baby buggy hitting the crosswalk button, and two men jogging.
"Don't do that," said Maddox.
"Do what?"
"Don't look at everyone like it could be them. You'll drive yourself crazy."
"You know me too well."
Maddox laughed a half-hearted huff, and we turned onto the street that bordered Fairmount Park. He pulled up and parked before he unbuckled his seatbelt.
"We're meeting him at the park?" I asked.
"I couldn't take you to where he works. It's top secret."
"You don't know where it is, do you?" I teased.
Maddox rolled his eyes before he shrugged. "You know me too well, too. Miller said he would meet us here. Ready?"
"Not to sound trite, but as ready as I'll ever be."
"Let's go."
It had been a long time since I'd seen Special Agent Miller but he hadn't changed much. His hair was still gray but a little longer and he sported a gray-speckled beard that he cut very short. He waited for us by a bench overlooking the lake, looking every bit like a regular citizen in his knitted cardigan, zipped up to the chin, and jeans. I wondered if he remembered meeting me in a closet-sized room. I met Solomon in that room at the same time, and the memory of it hit me like a sucker punch.
"Hi, Matt," I said, since he told me to call him by his first name a long time ago.
"I've followed your career," he said, reaching a hand to shake mine. "I'm very impressed."
"I'm not sure what to say," I said, his words catching me by surprise. I didn’t know whether it was because he actually bothered to look into my career or because he was truly impressed. The thought of both was surprising, and also very interesting. Who else could be watching me?
"Special Agent Maddox tells me this is a matter of extreme urgency. How can I help?" asked Matt, moving the conversation on with a swiftness that relieved me.
"I'm trying to find out who shot Solomon," I said, coming as quickly to the point as I could. Matt Miller wasn't a verbose man, and I didn't have the time to make polite talk before I got straight to the point. Every minute I was away from Solomon bothered me. Not only that, but the trail was getting colder the longer it took me to make the connections.
"I was sorry to hear about that. Maddox filled me in on what he knows."
"You might not know that we now have a lead on the shooter but I don't believe he’s the person behind it. I think someone else might be calling the shots —" I winced at my poor choice of words " —and I need to know if it's someone from Solomon's past. Since you worked with him in an official capacity, I thought you might be able to offer some ideas."
"I only worked with Solomon a small number of times when he was on loan to the FBI, and I'm struggling to think of anyone who might have borne a grudge. His work with my task force was always discreet. Although we worked on that case for four months, he was always behind the scenes, while the operatives like Maddox were undercover. It's unlikely anyone on the cases we worked would ever have even known Solomon's name."
"Who was he on loan from?" I asked.
Miller shrugged. "A defense contractor, I think, set up by an ex-agent who was connected to someone higher than my pay grade. We needed someone with his expertise and he was thus provided."
"Were all the cases you worked on similar to the Green Hand Insurance case?"
"It's classified information, but I can tell you that they all had financial crimes in common."
"What about Solomon's personal life?"
Matt laughed and the lines around his eyes crinkled. "I wasn't aware Solomon had one."
"You don't know anyone whom he socialized with? He never mentioned anyone from his past?"
"If he did socialize with anyone, or date somebody, he never said. He didn't talk about his past either, and to be fair, I never asked. We were doing a job, you see, not dating."
"Did you know where he lived?"
"He was living in a hotel during that time. He mentioned buying a place, a house. I was surprised, actually."
"Why was that?" I pressed.
"I guess I never figured him as someone who would settle down. I read his background file so I knew he was never in any one location long enough to even consider settling during most of his adult life. After that last op, I requested him for another job but found he sought a change of career. That would be the private investigation agency he set up. It was a smart move."
"Any particular reason you thought that?" I asked.
Matt nodded slowly. "This job has a habit of taking over your life. At some point, you either have to commit to sacrifice in order to be good at your job, or you have to leave the job and stop making all the sacrifices everywhere else. I've seen marriages fail, kids who barely know their parents, and important events get dropped for a work call. A lot of regrets in that line of work."
"You spoke to Solomon and me about that one night," said Maddox. "A couple weeks into the Green Hand Insurance sting."
"I believe I did. Maybe Solomon took that to heart. You don't think about it, Maddox?"
"I do," said Maddox.
"Don't leave it too late," said Matt. "Lexi, I'm afraid I might have wasted your time. I'm not sure how anything I said could help you."
"I appreciate your meeting me. Is there anything you can think of that might help us find the person or persons responsible?"
"Not really but, now that I think about it… there was someone Solomon mentioned. He had a friend at an Army base not too far from here. Fort Charles, I think. I don't recall the exact name but if you find him, he might be able to tell you more about his background than I can."
We shook hands and Matt expressed his best wishes to Solomon and me, then he patted Maddox on the arm and took off, quickly disappearing behind the foliage that covered his exit from the park.
"I thought he would be more helpful," said Maddox. We took the path by the lake, walking slowly back to the car while I digested Matt's comments.
"Me too, but at least he didn't add anymore names on the list. Maddox, was Solomon really always that alone? I mean, did he really not have anyone around him when you worked together?"
"I can't answer that. Like Miller said, we didn't talk much about that stuff. We were focused strictly on the job. Obviously, Solomon must have known people here because he had the agency up and running very quickly."
"He lived here for a little while when he was a kid," I said. He told me about that period of his life a few times, and how much he liked living here. "He already knew everyone he hired to work at the agency."
"Makes sense that he picked somewhere familiar to settle down. For a long while, I wondered if he picked Montgomery only because of you."
"Me?"
"Yeah. I figured he liked you enough to stick around, and then he hired you. Later, I figured he already had the agency set up by the time our case was closed, so that couldn't have been the reason. You were his surprise hire. He made the right choice too. You can do lots of things the other PIs can't."
"Solomon always says no one ever suspects me."
"That's right, perky," said Maddox. He nudged me jovially and I laughed. Perky was a pet name that followed me around.
My phone rang and I reached for it, my heart thumping. Flaherty's name flashed on the screen. "What's the news?" I asked.
"All good with the junk yard. The cameras were pointed at the road and the only vehicle that exited within an hour of the motorcycle going the other way was a beat-up SUV. We got the plate. Lucas ran it and it's registered to someone with the same surname as Mikey Gibbs so the wallet lead looks solid."
"Does Garrett know about the camera?"
"We gave him the nod before we got outta there."
"Where are you now?"
"Still in Frederickstown. I'm staking out the address the SUV is registered to. Fletch took the car and drove up to Boston to see if the shooter turns up there; that’s because Lucas found some information that links him to that area. You might want to let Delgado know that no one is coming in to relieve him at the hospital."
"That's no problem. I'm heading back there now," I told him. "Do you have a vehicle?"
"No, I'm warming a bench."
"I'll get Lucas to send someone out with a car. Thanks for keeping me updated."
"No thanks necessary," grunted Flaherty before he hung up.
"Fletcher and Flaherty split up to cover more ground," I told Maddox, quickly explaining what they were doing. "I need to get back to the hospital. I've already been gone too long."
"Let's go," said Maddox. He pointed to the path where we entered the park and we stepped up our pace as we made our way to the car. We got in and Maddox pulled out onto the street. A flash of black in the corner of my eye caught my attention. Realizing it was just another car pulling out behind us, I dismissed it. "You're disappointed," said Maddox.
"At what Matt Miller said?"
"No, what he didn't say."
I thought about it. The meeting wasn't entirely fruitless. He mentioned a friend at Fort Charles and I had a good idea who that friend might be. I worked with both Captain Mitch McAuley and Solomon on a case once, the same case that played a part in my breakup with Maddox, so I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to bring that up right then. Instead, I said, "He gave me a few things to think about."
"You know you can talk to me about anything," said Maddox. He reached over and squeezed my hand, giving me a boost of both warmth and reassurance. "I'm here for you." He dropped my hand to take the wheel, turning onto Century Street and heading in the direction of the hospital.
"You glanced in the mirror seven times in the last two minutes," I said, breaking the silence.
"Someone's following us," said Maddox. "Hey! You didn't turn around!"
"I'm a pro now," I said smugly. "Is it the black car, two cars back?"
"Yeah. You noticed it too?"
"It was parked on the street behind us when we got into your car after we left the park. I dismissed it then, but now that you noticed it too, I'm worried."
"I'm more curious than worried. I can either confirm this guy is following us, and try and shake them off, or we can let them follow us. It's your call."
"Assuming it has to do with Solomon, I say we let them follow us to the hospital and then we try and surprise them."
"How do you propose we do that?"
I thought about the layout of the parking lot. Although we risked getting too much exposure, and the possibility of being shot, I couldn't figure out why someone would want to. It never seemed like I was anyone’s target so I didn't feel particularly in danger. If someone intended to finish off Solomon by murder, then why would they follow me? If they knew he was still alive, it would be obvious that he was at the hospital under armed guard and there would be no reason to follow me. That left me with another conundrum: did the person following us have some information for me?
"If we park near the east wing, rather than the front parking lot, there're a lot of shadows where the wing extends and the supporting pillars hide everything underneath. Park as close to that as we can, and we can get directly under the pillars and hide behind them to wait and see who follows us."
"Works for me," agreed Maddox. "Are you armed?"
"No. I left my gun at the hospital with Delgado. You?"
"Always. Stick with me."
"No problem."
Maddox turned onto the street where the hospital was situated and then into the parking lot. Fortunately, the front parking lot was filled with the day's patients and visitors so it wasn't strange that we passed it and turned onto the east wing's lesser used lot. It wasn't a very popular area, and a little further to walk to the main entrance, and it had numerous bays marked for hospital employees, marking it harder for visitors to park. Maddox slid the car into a space next to the sidewalk and we both jumped out, aiming for the broad, brick pillars.
"Do you see the car?" I asked as we slipped behind one close to the hospital and hidden by the deep shadow.
"It followed us to the parking lot. I can't see without ducking my head around this pillar."
I reached into my purse and pulled out my compact mirror, flipping the lid and using it to peek around the pillar, angling it so I could see the reflection. The car had pulled in behind Maddox's SUV and a man wearing jeans, a zipped-up jacket and a baseball cap climbed out. He covered his eyes with his hand and searched the area. "Just one man. His face is covered. He's looking around. Now, he's walking forwards." I angled the mirror again, following his progress until he stepped into the pillared area, and I lowered my voice to a whisper. My heart thumped. "He stopped. I think he realized we didn't walk into the entrance."
"How do you feel about approaching him?" whispered Maddox.
My stomach roiled. "Not good."
"I know, but you won't be in any danger. When he gets to that next pillar, you step out. I'll circle around and cover him from the back," said Maddox. He slid his gun from his holster and readied it. "Go," he said.
I stepped out and the man, who was little more than eight feet away, stopped. "Lexi Graves?" he asked.
There was something oddly familiar about his voice, but I couldn't quite place it.
"You've been following us," I said, avoiding his question.
"I wanted to make sure it was you. It is you?" he said, taking another step forward and reaching behind him. My heart thumped faster.
"Not another step," said Maddox behind him.
The man stilled. "What the hell is this?" he asked.
"Take your hand out your pocket and put it above your head. Both of them," ordered Maddox as I stood there, immobilized.
"Okay, man," said the stranger. He lifted his hands above his head. One hand held something small and dark, too small and square for a gun.
"I was just getting my wallet," he said as Maddox approached him and plucked it from his hand. "I'm Damien. Damien Solomon."
Maddox flipped open the wallet and checked something inside before stepping back and circling around the man, with the gun still pointed at him. He checked again, and looked at the man, then passed the wallet to me. A driver's license was inside a transparent window. I looked at the photo and squinted at the man in the dim light. "Damien?" I said, a sense of utter relief flooding me. He was a little shorter than Solomon, and broader, but there was no mistaking his brown eyes.
"I spoke with you about John. I came as soon as I... Hey, can I put my hands down now? I'd really like to see my brother. Who are you?" he asked, nodding to Maddox.
"Sure," said Maddox, holstering his weapon. "Special Agent Maddox. I'm Lexi's..." he stopped, glancing at me before adding, "friend," and smiling at me.
"That's right," I agreed. My relief made me almost giddy. I was so glad that no one got shot.
"I'll walk you both up to him, and if you sneak up on Lexi again, I'll also be the one to shoot you first," added Maddox.