Chương 14
Both of them turned.
A sedan stopped at the curb.
Not a sheriff’s vehicle.
A man stepped out wearing jeans, a dark jacket, and a knit cap.
Logan moved toward the tablet.
The doorbell camera showed the stranger approaching with both hands visible.
He stopped several feet from the porch.
“Mr. Mercer?”
Logan answered through the intercom.
“Who are you?”
“Special Agent Marcus Bell.”
Amelia stood.
The man held up identification toward the camera but did not advance.
“FBI.”
Logan did not open the door.
“Who sent you?”
“Assistant United States Attorney Rebecca Lin received a referral from your attorney.”
That was plausible.
Not enough.
“Wait there.”
Logan called Rusk.
The attorney answered.
“Someone claiming to be FBI is outside.”
“Name?”
“Marcus Bell.”
A pause.
“He’s legitimate.”
“You verified?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Logan.”
“What?”
“Do not discuss substantive facts without me.”
“I know.”
“You say that too confidently.”
Logan ended the call.
He opened the door but left the storm door locked.
Bell looked to be in his late forties.
He had the tired face of a man who spent more time driving between towns than television had ever suggested federal agents did.
“Mr. Mercer.”
“Agent Bell.”
“May I come in?”
“My attorney says not to discuss facts without him.”
Bell nodded.
“Smart.”
He glanced toward the street.
“I’m not here to interview you.”
“Then why are you here?”
“To tell you something before local law enforcement does.”
Amelia appeared behind Logan.
Bell saw her.
“Mrs. Mercer?”
“Yes.”
His expression softened slightly.
“Caleb Harris has been found.”
Amelia gripped the doorframe.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
Her knees almost buckled.
Logan steadied her.
Bell continued.
“He was located about a mile from his truck.”
“Is he hurt?”
“Head injury, broken wrist, probably concussion.”
“Did he say who did it?”
Bell looked toward the street again.
“I’m not discussing his statement.”
Logan studied him.
“But there is a statement.”
Bell did not answer.
Amelia stepped closer.
“Why come here?”
“Because the document box found in Harris’s truck is now in state custody pending coordination.”
“That’s good.”
“Maybe.”
Bell’s mouth tightened.
“There’s a problem.”
Logan waited.
Bell said, “The box contains original county documents, not copies.”
Amelia shook her head.
“I never took originals.”
“I’m not saying you did.”
“What else?”
Bell hesitated.
“One of the folders contains a handwritten note.”
Amelia’s face went still.
“What note?”
Bell looked directly at her.
“It says Logan Mercer receives fifteen percent.”
Logan felt Amelia turn toward him.
Bell continued before either spoke.
“There are also bank routing numbers attached to your name.”
Amelia whispered, “That’s impossible.”
Bell nodded once.
“Yes.”
That response caught Logan.
“You already checked them.”
“We checked enough to know the routing numbers don’t lead where whoever made that note seems to think they lead.”
“Where do they lead?”
“A closed escrow account in Nevada.”
Logan frowned.
Bell’s expression became almost grimly satisfied.
“It was closed four years ago.”
Amelia stared.
“So the evidence is fake.”
Bell raised one hand.
“Slow down.”
“Isn’t it?”
“It is evidence of something.”
He looked at Logan.
“Just probably not what the person who planted it intended.”
The old phone in Logan’s pocket rang.
He checked the screen.
Shaw.
He answered.
“Evie.”
Her voice came fast.
“Logan, I found the connection.”
“What connection?”
“The sealed federal index involving Amelia.”
Bell watched him.
Shaw continued.
“It isn’t because she was a target.”
Amelia moved closer.
“Then why was her name there?”
Logan asked.
“Because federal investigators subpoenaed county payment records eight months ago.”
Bell’s expression changed.
He clearly knew where this was going.
Shaw said, “The subpoena was supposed to be confidential.”
Logan felt the pieces shift.
“Who received it?”
“The county’s chief law-enforcement officer was copied on the preservation demand.”
Logan looked through the storm door at Bell.
“Vance knew.”
Bell nodded slowly.
Shaw answered at the same time.
“Yes.”
Amelia covered her mouth.
Logan finally understood why the sheriff had needed to know whether a retired mechanic still had people he could call.
The milkshake had never been about pride.
Vance had been measuring the distance between Logan Mercer and the federal government.
Bell glanced toward the road.
Headlights appeared at the far intersection.
A sheriff’s SUV turned onto their street.
Then another.
Bell’s expression hardened.
“Mr. Mercer, get your attorney back on the phone.”
The vehicles stopped in front of the house.
Dominic Vance stepped from the first SUV holding a folded document in his hand.
Even through the glass, Logan could see the sheriff smiling.
Bell moved away from the door and reached for his identification.
Vance started up the walk.
“Logan Mercer,” he called.
“I have a warrant to search your home.”
Vance stopped two steps from the porch when he saw Bell.
The sheriff’s smile did not disappear, but it became smaller.
“Well,” Vance said.
“Federal company.”
Bell held up his credentials.
“Special Agent Marcus Bell.”
“I can read.”
Vance glanced at the badge, then at Logan behind the storm door.
“I’m executing a lawful search warrant.”
Bell extended one hand.
“May I see it?”
Vance did not move.
“This is a county matter.”
“You can still let me read it.”
For the first time since Logan had met him, Dominic Vance looked like a man forced to calculate in public.
Deputy Krall stood behind him with two other deputies near the SUVs.
Mendez remained beside the second vehicle and kept his eyes down.
Vance finally handed Bell the warrant.
Logan called Rusk while Bell read.
The attorney answered immediately.
“Tell me they have a warrant.”
“They have a warrant.”
“I’m coming.”
Logan looked through the glass.
“You don’t need to.”
“Yes, I do.”
The line went dead.
Amelia whispered, “Can they still search?”
“Yes.”
“Even with the FBI here?”
“Yes.”
Her mouth tightened.
“That seems inefficient.”
“It’s government.”
She looked at him.
“Was that a joke?”
“Barely.”
Bell finished reading.
“What’s the probable cause affidavit based on?”
Vance’s eyes hardened.
May you like
“You know I don’t need to explain my investigation to you.”
Bell handed the paper back.
