Cut and Run(22)

“Did she place a call?”

“No. I also called Quantico, and the ASAC confirmed she’s an agent, but he couldn’t or wouldn’t say what she was working on. Thought maybe you could give your sister a call and find out what she knows about Macy Crow.”

He texted his sister, Special Agent Kate Hayden. She traveled with an FBI profiling team and had made it a standing policy that Hayden and his mother text rather than call. She promised to respond as quickly as she could and had always kept her word. In his text, he supplied the victim’s name, description, and a request for information on her latest case. Moments later he received a curt Roger that.

Kate was brilliant, and though her specialty was forensic linguistics, she was a woman of few words. Some saw her silence as arrogance, but he knew Kate was always thinking and processing and often forgot about social niceties. They were two peas in a pod according to their mother.

“She’ll get back to us.” Hayden slid the phone back in his breast pocket.

“Where’s your sister these days?” Brogan asked.

“No idea.”

“A few buddies of mine in San Antonio say she’s as charming as you.”

Kate had solved a complex case in San Antonio recently but had ruffled a few feathers in the process. “I’m still the nice one.”

“Shit.” Brogan adjusted his hat, shaking his head. “Remind me to stay clear of your sister.”

“Macy Crow is in town because her old man was murdered. Since she’s FBI, I’m guessing she wanted to know more about what happened.”

Brogan nodded. “Takes matters into her own hands. Something we both would have done. So what the hell was she doing in this part of town?”

“I don’t know.”

Despite what was portrayed on television, the FBI didn’t just roll into town and take over investigations. They worked in conjunction with local law enforcement, and when they had an operation, they kept the Texas Rangers apprised.

“Did the responding officer say anything else?” Hayden asked.

“Said the victim tried to speak but was incoherent. She then lost consciousness.”

“Is an Austin PD detective on scene?” Hayden asked.

“Detective Lana Franklin is en route. She’s juggling two other homicides tonight.”

“Where is Crow’s backpack?”

“Over there in the shadows where it fell. No one other than me has touched it yet,” Brogan said.

“Let’s have a look at it.” Hayden signaled to the forensic technician what he was doing and waited for her to follow with her camera.

As the technician snapped pictures, he moved around the bloodstain on the road and through the grass to the red backpack now lying up against the chain-link fence of the park. The backpack was marked with a yellow evidence tag. He knelt and unzipped it and found a wallet, a hotel room key, and several fast-food receipts.

“Where’s the officer who responded?” Hayden asked.

“Officer Beth Holcombe is over by her vehicle,” Brogan said.

He rose, asked the technician for pictures and an inventory of the bag, and then found Officer Holcombe. She was talking to an older man wearing disheveled clothes and carrying a large grocery bag crammed full of clothes and food.

Holcombe, midsized with an athletic build, had pulled back her black hair into a neat bun at the base of her neck.

Hayden extended his hand and introduced himself and Brogan. “Officer.”

She shook his hand and then laid her hand on the forearm of the man beside her. “Rangers, this is Sammy Kent. He lives in the doorways up and down this street, which is my beat. Sammy and I cross paths a lot. Not much happens here without him seeing it.”

Sammy hovered close to Officer Holcombe as his dark eyes shifted from Hayden to Brogan, sizing both men up. His green jacket looked to be army issue, as did his boots.

“Mr. Kent, my name is Mitchell Hayden.”

Sammy locked eyes with him. “You a Texas Ranger?”

“Yes, sir, I am. Did you serve?”

Sammy gripped his bag closer to him. “I did. Operation Desert Storm.”

“Thank you for your service, Mr. Kent. How long were you in?”

“Three years.”

Three years meant he’d not finished his first enlistment, which ran four years plus. “Were you injured?”

“Medical discharge. But I wasn’t injured.”

Many of the homeless had mental health issues, which meant whatever Sammy told him could be suspect. “What can you tell me about what happened?”

“Lady was walking down the street, and she stopped and gave me a twenty. Told me to get something to eat.”

“She say anything else?”

“Asked me about a missing girl. Showed me a picture.”

“Who was the girl?”

“Paige.”

“Were you able to tell her anything?” Hayden asked.

“Nope. The earth swallowed up Paige. It’s done it before, and it’ll do it again.”

Hayden checked his rising frustration. It wouldn’t help Ms. Crow. “Where was she going?”

“That way.” Sammy shrugged, sniffed, and nervously rattled the change in his pockets. “Toward the park.”

“How did the woman seem? Was she upset or worried?”