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Traveling at no more than twenty-five miles per hour, Briana finally made it to the turnoff at the boathouse at seven o’clock. She hadn’t encountered another car in fifteen minutes and, thankfully, hadn’t crossed paths with her client’s husband’s car either. As she parked behind the boathouse, the thought occurred to her, making her wonder if it was a possibility that he wouldn’t be going to work that day due to the weather. No, she told herself. He was the local law enforcement. On a day like this, he most certainly would be working, public safety being the number one job he had to do.
She decided to take a quick peek around the corner of the boathouse to see if she could see the house and detect if his car was there. She pulled her winter hat on and zipped up her coat. She stepped out into the cold, pressing the door to the van. It closed with a soft click. The wind was stronger here than at the hotel. The frosty air instantly chilled her to the bone.
She heard the faint sound of an engine running. A snow thrower or plow, she assumed. At the front corner of the boathouse, she craned her neck around it to view the house, which she could just make out through the steady falling of snow.
The Sheriff’s car was still in the driveway. No one was out clearing the snow. She identified the engine sound as coming from the direction of the lake. She crept back around the boathouse, past her van, and peered around the other corner.
Through the continuous curtain of white, she saw the unthinkable. On the lake, a small boat. In the boat, her client’s husband, Darren Elsworth, muscling the still form of her client, Amanda, over the side of the boat, dropping her into the icy waters. She wore the same wool winter coat she had on the day before. She sank quickly.
Briana gasped, and pulled herself to safety around the corner, pressing her back against the wall of the boathouse. She remained still for a moment, considering her options. If Amanda wasn’t already dead, she would be in a matter of minutes. Certainly, before she could do anything. Her husband was the Sherrif. He was most likely armed. If she were to call out and confront him, he could easily shoot her as well and dispose of her body the same way. Even if she were to pull her own weapon and approach him to make a citizen’s arrest, he’d draw his weapon and she’d have to shoot him. Would she be believed when she reported it? Were his deputies honest, or would they protect their boss? It was a no-win situation.
She ran back to her van and killed the engine, realizing that when the engine on the boat was extinguished, her engine may be heard. She quietly re-closed the door. Then she returned to her position at the corner of the boathouse. Unlike before, now she was sweating, and her heart was pounding. The boat was now motoring towards the bank. She watched it beach in the snow. Darren Elsworth hopped out and glanced around.
She pulled her head back around the corner and out of sight. Fuck! Had he seen her? She calmed her breath and then looked around the corner again. She caught sight of him walking back up the snow-covered yard towards the house.
He walked around to the front of the house, trudging through the heavy snow. She was able to make out that he got into his police cruiser. She watched in horror as he drove out of the driveway and pointed the vehicle towards the boathouse.
As much as she hated to admit it, she needed help. Had it been a month earlier, she would have called Cam. But she was too far away from him and even if he flew there, this was something way more than Cam was equipped to handle. Darren Elsworth was the local law. She needed a bigger set of guns to go up against him and hold him accountable for his wife’s murder.
She needed Sebastian and his team. And if he did stop and confront her, it wouldn’t hurt having an open phone line with federal authorities. She pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed Sebastian.
Romeo
Roth and Burke worked on the control panel installing the new motherboard with the Shepherd Security proprietary hardware with BT at HQ to activate the software interface. Their three other team members were wiring the equipment in the plant. The job was straightforward and, so far, had gone smoothly. They were hoping to complete the install a day early, not that getting back to the Chicago area a day early mattered to Roth. But he knew Laura Lee would like to spend an extra day with Dupont, and Michael wanted the extra day with Dahlia before their next install.
His phone rang. He retrieved it from inside his coveralls' pocket. The call was from Briana Woods. “Hello,” he answered.
“Sebastian, it’s Briana,” her voice came through the phone. Her voice was quiet, yet he could hear the desperation in it.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, not caring how he’d come across.
“I need your help,” she said, tucking her pride away.
He knew it had to be serious if she was asking. “Sure. What can I do?” He snapped his fingers to get Burke’s attention. He pointed to his phone. He waited. There was a pause. “Briana, are you there?”
“Yes. I need your help. And I don’t have time for a lecture from you, okay?”
“Okay,” he agreed. “Now what’s wrong?”
“I’m at a job and I’m pretty sure I just witnessed my client being murdered by her husband, well maybe not murdered. She could already have been dead, and he was just disposing of her body.” Her voice was a mere whisper. He didn’t detect fear, just desperation.
By now, Burke had transmitted the situation to BT through comms, and he’d whispered to Roth that his call was being recorded.
“Where are you?” Roth asked.
“Winthrop, Maine,” she replied. “And it’s snowing like a bitch here.”
“Winthrop, Maine,” he repeated for Burke’s benefit. “Are you in danger this very minute?”
“Possibly,” she admitted as she watched the Sherrif’s car creep closer. “That’s why I wanted this open phone line with you, just in case I’m confronted.”
“I could get in touch with local law enforcement,” Roth offered.
“That’s part of the problem. The man who dumped her body, her husband, is the local law enforcement.”
“Yeah, that would be a problem,” he agreed.
“Hold on a sec,” she said.
