Robie checked his watch. “I’m going to grab a few hours’ sleep. Anything shakes loose you can wake me up.”
“You have a place to sleep now? If not, you’re welcome to crash at my place.”
Robie glanced at her. “You sure about that?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You were afraid people might give you shit, even though I’m on the couch.”
“You don’t talk. I don’t talk. And even if it gets out, it was all professional, so screw them. So I can do you the favor.”
“I’ve got a place. That changes, I’ll let you know. Thanks.”
He walked to his car. He had turned her down for a specific reason.
In his line of work favors were almost never free.
And he wanted to check on Julie.
CHAPTER
53
ROBIE UNLOCKED THE DOOR and turned off the alarm system. He shut and locked the door behind him and reset the alarm.
“Julie?”
He moved down the hall, his hand on the butt of his weapon.
“Julie?”
He cleared three rooms before reaching her bedroom. He eased the door open. She was asleep in the bed. Just to be sure, Robie watched the steady rise and fall of her chest three times. He closed the door and walked down the hall to his bedroom.
He sat on the bed but did not undress. He felt hot and cold at the same time.
His phone rang. At first he thought it might be Vance, but it wasn’t.
It was Blue Man.
He answered. “Got anything for me?” he asked.
“Leo Broome’s a Fed. Works as a public liaison officer.”
“For what agency? DOD?”
“No. DOA.”
“The Agriculture Department?” exclaimed Robie. “You’re kidding me.”
“No, I’m not.”
“What else in his background?”
“It’s being emailed to you right now. Take a read. And see what hits you.”
“There has to be something there,” said Robie.
“Then find it.”
Robie’s email inbox buzzed. He hit the requisite keys and brought up the story of Leo Broome’s professional life. He read it over carefully. Then he read it again, putting in order certain elements that seemed most promising.
“What are you doing up?” he said, without looking at her.
Julie stood there in sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt and looking sleepy. “How did you know I was even standing here? I made no noise.”
“Everyone makes noise regardless of what they’re doing.”
“I think you have eyes in the back of your head, Will.”
“I wish I did, actually.”
She sat in a chair across from him. “Find out anything?”
“Yes. But not much makes sense.”
“Tell me the part that does.”
“I think I was the target of the bomb, not you.”
“That’s comforting. So I only had one person trying to kill me?”
“Leo Broome works for the Department of Agriculture.”
“Any spies work there?”
“Doubtful. While lucrative, corn subsidies don’t really get bad guys all that excited.”
“So what’s the connection?”
“Might not be any. Then again, there might.”
Robie held his phone screen up. “Broome was also in the army. Gulf One.”
“So?”
“The woman and child who were killed? Her ex-husband was also found murdered. He was in the military as well. Maybe he and Broome knew each other.”
“And if they did, what would they know that would get them killed? And how does that tie into my parents being murdered?”
“I don’t know. I’m still working on the possible theories.”
“And whoever blew up the bus, you said they wanted to kill you. Why?”
“For things I can’t talk about with you.”
She sat there looking at him. Robie wasn’t sure what her next question would be, but he doubted he could answer it truthfully. He glanced around the confines of the room. For a long moment he felt acutely claustrophobic.
“What do you think they did with my parents’ bodies?”
This was not one of the questions Robie had been anticipating, but it was certainly an understandable one. He studied Julie, trying to read something deeper in her question than was probably there. She was still just a kid, despite the street cred, despite the brains. She was grieving for her parents. She wanted to know where they were. He got that.
“Probably in a place we’ll never find,” said Robie. “Remember them as you knew them. Don’t think about where they are now, okay? It won’t do you any good.”
“Easy to say.”
“Yes, it is easy to say, but I think it needed to be said.”
Robie waited for her to break down and cry. Kids were supposed to do that, or so he’d been told. He had never done it when he was a child. But his childhood had not been normal in any possible way.
But Julie did not break down. She did not sniffle. She did not cry.