Showdown in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #3)(19)

Zach stopped pacing and shot Casey a dirty look. “I’m trying to avoid pro cessed carbs, and I might have someone to arrest, if I had the results from that fingerprint trace.”

“It’s a national database, Detective, not internal.”

“Damn it, I know what it is. Do you think I don’t know? This is important, is all, and there’s a lot of pressure right now.”

Casey’s expression changed to one of sympathy. “You working the kidnapping?”

Zach sank into a chair next to Casey, watching data whirl by on the monitor in front of them. “Yeah.”

“I think the captain’s got the whole department on overtime.” Casey shook his head. “That case sucks all the way around. Little kid missing. Mayor’s granddaughter. Makes me glad I’m a technogeek. If I did your job, I might just shoot someone who kidnaps little girls.”

Zach nodded. “Don’t think it doesn’t cross our minds, especially on the kid cases. But if we did, then we’d be no better than the criminals.”

Casey didn’t look convinced. “I got a five-year-old, and I’ll tell you here and now, someone hurts her, and the judge won’t even be able to give me bail.”

“I hear ya,” Zach agreed, and rose from his chair. “I guess I’ll get some coffee. You want anything?”

“Nah, I drink coffee after seven p.m., and I’ve got a night of no sleep ahead.”

“That’s the point,” Zach said, but just as he was about to leave, there was an audible click, and the data on the monitor stopped moving. In the center of the screen was a link with the words 100% match.

“Hey,” Casey said, “we got something here.” He reached for the mouse and clicked on the link. The screen flashed for a couple of seconds, then brought up a picture of a woman that resembled Raissa, except that wasn’t the name on the screen. There was only one other line of text on the screen: Wanted for questioning by the FBI.

Zach bit the inside of his lip. As if he needed any more trouble, and he’d likely just brought the feds down on the department by running that print. Damn it to hell. Casey looked up at Zach, the look on his face mirroring the way Zach felt.

“FBI?” Casey said. “The captain’s going to shit.”

“You think?” Zach ran one hand through his hair and paced the tiny office a couple of times. “Send me that link,” he said finally. “I better get upstairs. I’m sure it won’t be long before the bureau is knocking on the captain’s door.”

Zach hurried out of the office and down the stairs to his department. Of all the things he’d been expecting to find, this one hadn’t been on the list. What in the world was Raissa mixed up in? He knew little more about her now than he did before he’d run the print, and the last people he expected a straight answer from were the feds. He fought the urge to drive over to her apartment and question her immediately, but he knew better. Department policy was clear. When the feds wanted someone, they had to be contacted first. Local PD could not get involved with a federal case unless asked.

And the chances of the feds asking for favors was slim to none.

Which meant Zach was back to zero on Raissa Bordeaux and her magical, mystical visions. He sat down at his desk and opened his e-mail. Casey had already sent the link, so he clicked on it and opened the page again. It was definitely her, he decided as he studied the picture more closely. Her hair was different, and she’d obviously had some surgery done, because the nose and cheekbones were different. But he had no doubt it was the same woman. He leaned back in his chair, remembering the scene at the bar.

There was something about the man Raissa had talked to that was familiar, but he couldn’t place it exactly. He leaned forward and accessed recent arrest records. Maybe the guy was someone he’d seen being processed in the precinct. Thirty minutes later, his eyes were watering and he still hadn’t located the man from the bar. He was just about to try another tactic when his captain stuck his head out of his office and yelled at him, his angry voice booming across the office.

“Blanchard, get your ass in here now!”

Detective Morrow looked over at him, eyebrows raised. “Uh-oh. Looks like someone’s in trouble.”

Zach clenched his jaw and managed to walk past Morrow without saying a word. He stepped into the captain’s office, expecting a spectacular reaming, but was surprised to find that the captain wasn’t alone. One look at the man and Zach knew exactly what he was—the dark suit, starched white shirt, perfectly knotted tie, sunglasses (worn inside), and the fact that he stood in front of the captain’s desk rather than sitting in one of the chairs. Definitely a fed.

“That was fast,” Zach said. “What did she do, steal your personality?”

“Zip it, Blanchard.” The captain shot him a warning look. “This is Special Agent Fields with the local office of the FBI. He wants to know where you got the print you ran. And so do I.”

Zach hesitated for a moment, not wanting to give away his information, but he couldn’t think of a single way around it that didn’t involve his going to jail. Which wouldn’t exactly help his quest for a promotion. “I got it off a suspect.”

“What suspect?” the captain asked. “The only case you better be working is the kidnapping, and I haven’t been made aware of any suspects.”