The Silence (Columbia River #2)(24)

“Who was this guy?”

“After some deep digging, I found the email for this poster belonged to Reuben Braswell.”

Mason’s coffee turned to acid in his stomach.

“Think one of his like-minded associates could be involved in his murder?” asked Brody.

“That doesn’t make sense. If they had the same ideologies, why kill him?”

“Maybe he had a change of heart . . . Maybe the shooting was part of a big plan and he wanted to back out. That could have made one of his associates very angry.” Brody looked evenly at Mason. “What at the Braswell scene alerted you to the bombing threat at the courthouse?”

I can’t go there.

“Considering your number of sources, I’m surprised you haven’t figured that out.”

“I’ve heard rumors. Nothing substantiated. I know an alarm was raised while you and Ray were inside the home, and then you were out of the house within minutes.”

“Everybody responded to the threat. City, county, state, federal . . .”

“But no one else was investigating the murder of a cop-hating conspirator and then rushed into a massacre.”

I hate it when he does that.

Brody had a knack for solving puzzles when he didn’t have all the pieces. Mason took a long drink of his coffee, searching for how to respond.

The reporter leaned back in his chair and nodded. “Thought so. You’re really bad at hiding your thoughts. What was it? Something on his computer? A diary?” Brody crossed his arms as he considered. “His computer wouldn’t be searched until it went to a lab—unless something was immediately visible on the screen. Braswell didn’t strike me as a diary-keeping type of guy.” He looked expectantly at Mason.

“You know I can’t tell you anything.”

“How is Ava involved in this?”

Holy shit.

Brody snorted. “You should see the shock on your face.” He grew sober, his eyes concerned. “She’s not in any danger, right?”

Mason hadn’t even considered that since her name was in Braswell’s diatribe, Ava might be a target. “Christ.”

If Braswell singled out Ava as a good cop, does that make her a target for Braswell’s killer?

“What on earth did you find in that house?” Brody leaned forward, his stare probing.

“Give me the websites and username you linked to Reuben Braswell.”

“I emailed them to you before we sat down.”

Cocky bastard.

“Someone was furious with Braswell,” Brody continued. “Who and why?”

“When I learn that, I’ll know who killed him.”

And possibly shot Ray.





11

“She shouldn’t be here,” the Clackamas County detective said to Zander. The young county detective had marched over the minute he learned Ava was in the task force room for the briefing.

“I’m right in front of you,” Ava said in a calm voice to the detective. “Vent your complaints in my direction.” She saw a muscle twitch in Zander’s cheek.

He’s trying not to laugh.

She didn’t find the situation funny. Due to her name being in the Braswell notes, she had been prepared for pushback against her presence on the case. “If you don’t want to discuss it with me, then you can call the Portland FBI ASAC. He assigned me to this case in spite of my name showing up for no good reason in that man’s house because he knows I’m the best for the job.” She knew her boss would back her up.

“There’s got to be a hundred agents in that office,” the detective said. “Your ASAC can send someone else.”

“Then you call him. But we’ve already had this discussion, and he won’t care about your concerns. He cares about finding out who murdered four police officers.” Ava held the detective’s gaze.

She sent up her hundredth silent prayer for Ray.

After a long moment, the detective turned away. “Find a seat,” he tossed over his shoulder.

Ava let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Ass,” she muttered.

“He’s doing his job,” Zander pointed out as they took two seats in the front row. “If he hadn’t protested, it wouldn’t have looked right. He had no intention to send you packing.”

“You don’t think so?” Ava studied the detective with a skeptical eye and a new sense of respect as he huddled with two men in deputy uniforms.

“Nope. And he only addressed me to see how you’d react. I think you passed his test.”

He did back down rather easily.

“He’s so young.” She was miffed she’d misread the detective’s tactics. She glanced around the room, recognizing police uniforms from a half dozen agencies, big and small. Several people were also in plain clothes. More detectives, she assumed. She was one of six women of about twenty-five people. A tall blonde in a pantsuit caught her eye, and Ava waved her over. She liked Nora Hawes, who was in Mason’s department. Ava had considered recruiting the detective for the FBI a number of times, but Nora seemed to relish the assortment of cases in OSP’s Major Crimes division.

Nora sat in the row behind her, and her lips turned up on one side. “I saw you put that detective in his place.”