I Will Find You(42)

“After you left the diner,” Max said, “where did you go?”

“I live here in New Jersey.”

“Yes, we know.”

“Well, that’s where I was heading. Home. I was almost there when a bunch of state troopers pulled me over with guns drawn. Scared the hell out of me. Then I was brought here.”

“So you intended to drive straight home from the diner?” Max asked.

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t check out of the motel. Your clothes are still in your room. Your personal items.”

“I planned on coming back.”

“What do you mean?”

“The room is cheaper by the week,” Rachel said, “so I decided to just hold on to it. I came home to run some errands, check on my place, that kind of thing. I planned on coming back up to Maine on Thursday.” She sat forward. “I’m very confused, Detective.”

“Special Agent,” Sarah corrected. “He is Special Agent Max Bernstein of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I’m Special Agent Sarah Jablonski.”

Rachel met her eye and held it. “Special Agent. You must be very proud.”

Max didn’t want to get sidetracked. “After you left the diner, did you drive straight home, Ms. Anderson?”

Rachel sat back. “I may have stopped along the way.”

“Eight minutes after David Burroughs called you, your Toyota Camry was picked up on CCTV near the Lamy Outlet Center.”

“Right. I thought about doing some shopping.” She turned to Sarah. “They have a Tory Burch store.”

“Did you?” Max pressed.

“Did I what?”

“Shop.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I changed my mind.”

“So you drove there and just left.”

“Something like that.”

“And by stunning coincidence,” Sarah continued, “the Lamy Outlet Center was where David Burroughs hid after his escape.”

“I don’t know anything about that. Did David really escape?”

Sarah ignored the question. “We got a location tap for your iPhone from your cell provider. They pinged your phone, but guess what?”

Rachel shrugged.

“Your phone had been powered all the way down,” Sarah said, “so we couldn’t track it.”

“Is that supposed to be incriminating?”

“It is, yes.”

“Why? I turn my phone off when I’m driving sometimes. I don’t like to be disturbed.”

“No, Rachel, you do not do that,” Sarah snapped. “According to your cell provider, your phone hasn’t been powered off in the past four months. We also know that you turned it off after driving ten miles north of the Lamy Outlet Center, which is in the opposite direction of New Jersey.”

Rachel gave another no-big-deal shrug. “I wanted to see a few sights before heading home.”

“Oh, that sounds reasonable,” Sarah said in pure deadpan. “Your ex-brother-in-law escapes from prison. Soon after, the phone he stole calls yours. You react by driving to the outlet center where he’s hiding. Then for some reason, even though you claim you were heading home without checking out of your motel, you start driving in the opposite direction and suddenly turn off your mobile phone for the first time since updating your software four months ago. That sound about right?”

Rachel smiled at Sarah and then turned her attention to Max. “Am I under arrest, Special Agent Bernstein?”

“Not as long as you’re cooperating,” Max said.

“So if I choose to get up and leave?”

“Let’s not do hypotheticals, Ms. Anderson, if that’s okay,” Max said. “We also know that you kept driving north after turning off your phone. Approximately thirty miles further up I-95, David Burroughs, using a stolen credit card, purchased survival gear of various sorts—tent, pocketknives, sleeping bag, stuff like that—from the Katahdin General Store. The store owner gave us a positive ID on him. Any comment?”

Rachel shook her head. “I don’t know anything about that.”

“It’s all parkland and woods up in that area. Miles and miles of it. Someone could get dropped off and never be seen again. They could slowly make their way to the Canadian border.”

Rachel Anderson said nothing.

Sarah decided to switch gears. Their hope was to keep her off balance and surprised by the wealth of information they’d been able to learn in just a few hours. “Why did you choose to visit David Burroughs now?”

“David was my brother-in-law. We used to be close.”

“But this was your very first trip to Briggs.”

“Yes.”

“He’d been there, what, four, five years?”

“Something like that.”

Sarah spread her hands. “So why now, Rachel?”

“I don’t know. I just felt…I felt like it was time.”

“Do you believe David Burroughs killed your nephew?”

Rachel’s gaze slid to the far left. “I do, yes.”

“You don’t seem that sure.”

“Oh, I’m sure. But I don’t think he meant it. I think he had some kind of blackout or breakdown.”