Cut and Run(21)

“Yes, sir. Officer Holcombe. Ranger Mike Brogan is over at the impact site.”

He’d worked with Brogan a few times. The tall, lean Texan, though only in his early thirties, was sharp and worked harder than any two men. He kept his brown hair cut short, his shirts starched, and his boots polished. The guy was all business.

As Hayden pulled on black latex gloves, he ducked under the tape, and his weathered boots crunched on the uneven paved sidewalk that ran along the park’s chain-link fence. A series of yellow numbered cones marked several sets of skid marks. Preserving them would help tell the story later in court.

Brogan squatted by a large patch of blood and an ankle boot, a collection of used gauze pads, IV bags, and discarded syringes close by. Hayden gave his name to the forensic technician, whose job was to record every visitor to the crime scene. No one came in or out of a crime scene without leaving something behind, and all the comings and goings could be an issue at trial.

Hayden moved closer for a better look. “I was told it was a hit-and-run.”

Brogan stood. “That’s right.”

“Is the victim dead or alive?”

“Alive, barely. But she’s in bad shape, and there’s a good chance she won’t make it. Head injuries, broken leg, and a mangled arm.”

“Where is the victim now?”

“She has been transported and is in surgery.”

“Witnesses?” Hayden asked.

“A homeless man flagged down a patrol car. As the cop rolled up, the hit-and-run vehicle sped off. The officer saw the woman’s condition and opted not to chase but give first aid.” He glanced at his notebook and flipped through pages filled with precise notes.

“Do we know who the victim is?” Hayden asked.

“You’re going to love this.”

“Somehow, I doubt it.”

“We found her backpack on the sidewalk. It must have flown off of her when she was hit. Her name is Macy Crow. She’s an FBI agent.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Card-carrying, gun-toting FBI agent. Do you know of any FBI operations in Austin? I know a few bank-fraud cases, but I doubt there’s much bank fraud happening in this park at night.” He handed Hayden the agent’s badge.

“Macy Crow?”

“That’s right.”

“We had another victim of the same surname in the medical examiner’s office late yesterday. His name was Jack Crow. I spoke to Macy Crow yesterday on the phone.”

Hayden studied the picture for several moments. He could feel his expression hardening. Macy Crow had blond hair, a narrow face, and sharp blue eyes, but what seized his attention was her stunning likeness to Faith McIntyre. “Is this some kind of joke, Brogan?”

The Ranger looked at him as if he were a little insulted. “Why would you think it’s a joke, Captain?”

Hayden studied the woman’s picture again. The resemblance was too close to ignore. He knew enough about Faith to know she was the only child of parents now deceased. “She looks like our medical examiner, Faith McIntyre.”

“I thought the same,” Brogan said, shaking his head. “What do you make of that?”

“I don’t know. When was Ms. Crow struck by the vehicle?”

“Two hours ago.”

Hayden had left Faith not long before that. She’d been leaving the Driskill, and he’d seen her get into the car from his hotel window. Of all nights, he’d opted to splurge on a view, thinking she’d enjoy it. But the sudden jolt of concern had him reaching for his phone. “And you’re sure the victim wasn’t Dr. McIntyre?”

“Nothing to suggest she’s the doc. Why do you ask?”

Hayden ignored the question and dialed Faith’s number. She picked up on the second ring, and her voice was remarkably clear.

“Faith McIntyre.”

“Doc, this is Mitchell Hayden. Sounds like you’re up.”

“Yes, I am. What can I do for you?”

He heard the curiosity in her tone, but she was too careful to make any kind of innuendo until she understood the true nature of the call. “I’m at a crime scene, and there was some confusion. But it looks like it’s been cleared up.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “If you need a body examined, I can come in.”

Hayden glanced down at the blood and discarded bandage packets. “So far the victim is still alive. I’ll touch base in the morning. Sorry to trouble you.”

“Okay. Hopefully the victim won’t be coming my way.”

“Did you speak to Jack Crow’s daughter?”

“We traded voicemail messages. We’ve not spoken directly. She was headed to Austin. Why?”

“I’ve got to run. I’ll call you in the morning.” One way or the other, Faith would have to be told about Macy Crow.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “Something’s off.”

“I’ll explain all in the morning. Trust me on this.”

“Sure. But I want the full story tomorrow,” Faith said.

“Understood.” He hung up, realizing he was deeply relieved Faith had picked up the phone.

Brogan held up a bagged cell phone and handed it to Hayden. “Her last search on her phone was for the Texas Rangers.”