Shattered (Michael Bennett #14)(5)

I didn’t say a word. All I could think about was her last call in Ireland. The one I didn’t answer.

Harry said, “The only reason the FBI ASAC even called me was because it was on the news. He knows you’re tight with her, and he wanted to make sure I’d tell him if you knew anything about her disappearance.”

“Knew anything? Like he thinks I’m a suspect?”

“No, nothing like that. More like if she ran off with someone—or from the federal bureaucracy. Mainly they want to make sure she’s safe.”

“What was she doing in DC?” Bad news seems to provoke meaningless questions. I guess it’s a way to avoid fear and grief.

Harry said, “She’s been back and forth between LA, New York, and DC. Apparently, she was working on some kind of anarchist group. You know the type, deface signs, toilet paper houses, and do the occasional violent crime.”

“Where is her daughter, Olivia?”

Harry said, “She’s with Emily’s ex-husband.”

“She said he was a deadbeat.”

“Apparently he got his act together.”

“Is anyone looking at him as a suspect?”

“The first thing they checked. He’s in Connecticut with Olivia. The FBI verified he hadn’t traveled in weeks.”

I was glad Harry had made me sit on the couch while we talked. A host of horrible scenarios rushed through my head, hitting hard. Drug kingpins she had taken down, nuts like this anarchist group, or even a stalker. Emily was a beautiful woman. She never wanted for attention from men.

Then something clicked in my head. An idea. A proposal I really needed to run past Mary Catherine. Instead, I looked at Harry and just blurted out, “I’m going to stay on vacation a while longer.”

Harry looked at me closely. “You’ve got plenty of vacation time built up and you’ve earned every minute of it. Tell me you won’t spend your free time doing the kind of thing you shouldn’t tell me about.”

“You mean like a hobby or exercise?”

“You know exactly what I mean. But I respect your loyalty to a friend.”





Chapter 6



I needed more information. The NYPD trains people who get jobs all over the country. I knew exactly who to call to get the full scoop on Emily Parker’s disappearance: Roberta Herring. I couldn’t help but smile whenever I thought of my colleague at my first precinct in the Bronx, now a supervisor with the Department of Justice Office of the Inspector General.

The DOJ OIG had oversight of the FBI and several other agencies. The ranks of the OIG were filled with former cops and federal agents. I knew all Roberta’s secrets from her rough-and-tumble life as a uniformed patrol officer in the Bronx—more than enough to know that she wasn’t really an Internal Affairs type, and also that she excelled in this job.

I preferred to think of her as my friend whom I could trust with my life. And I was pretty sure she felt the same about me.

All I had to do was say, “How would you handle a domestic violence situation?” Usually, she’d just give me a look that told me to shut up. Once she even shoved me out of a restaurant so I wouldn’t keep talking. It was a great game in which I held all the cards. The best way to play any game. I knew she had once told an abusive husband she’d cut off his balls if he ever hit his wife again. Say what you want, it worked.

On the second ring, I heard, “Roberta Herring, may I help you?”

I chuckled out loud and said, “That’s very professional. You must’ve learned that after you left the Bronx.”

She answered with her own chuckle. “Detective Michael Bennett. I knew my day was running too smoothly. How’s that new wife and platoon of children?”

We got through the chitchat and caught up with each other’s lives. I told her about my connection to Emily Parker and the cases we had worked. I said, “She personally kept me and my entire family safe when we were in witness protection. I’m just worried about what’s being done to find her.”

“Same old Bennett. Doesn’t believe anyone else can do the job as well as he can. I’ve seen too many times where you step in and figure things out when no one else can.” There was a pause. I heard footsteps and then the sound of an office door closing. “The FBI is taking Emily’s disappearance seriously,” Roberta said, now that she could speak freely. “The DC police are also taking leads.”

If you’re in real trouble in a big city, you’re better off with a city detective than the FBI. That was our favorite saying when we first made detective about the same time. She didn’t say it out loud, but I knew we were both thinking it. I wasn’t an idiot.

Roberta said, “I don’t know Emily Parker personally, but since she disappeared there have been quite a few rumors. People believe that she’s dated a number of very powerful people in DC. The rumors all indicate that she has a real wild side.”

“I’ve known her for years, and I’ve never had any hint she had a wild side. Are you sure we’re talking about the same person? Emily is as dedicated as any cop I’ve ever met. I didn’t realize she made time for much of a social life.”

Roberta said, “My concern is not whether the FBI can find her but whether the FBI wants to find her. Who knows what happened to her or if someone wants to keep her quiet. These are all questions a lot of us are taking very seriously.”