Dispatch had told them to contact Jeff Costner, a store customer, who had called 911 to report that he’d been robbed at gunpoint in the parking lot of the store. He said he had not been injured, but the dispatcher said that Mr. Costner sounded very frightened. A cop working a small jurisdiction like Shelby knew every square inch of his beat and everyone in it. Oswald guessed that Costner must be a fisherman who was staying in one of the cabins, because he’d never heard of him.

The cabins and the convenience store were owned by Jed Truffant and his wife, Tiffany. The couple made their nut during tourist season and turned a small profit out of season. They were never going to get rich off the store, but they both loved to fish and seemed content with what they had. They were regular churchgoers and compassionate people, so Oswald assumed they would be comforting Mr. Costner in the warmth of the store. That’s why he was surprised to see a man in a windbreaker sitting on the curb outside the store with his head resting in his hands.

Swanson parked a few spots from the man, and the officers got out.

“Mr. Costner?” Tom asked as he walked in front of the patrol vehicle. The man stood up and smiled. When the officers were a few steps away, he pulled a coal black Glock 37 handgun out of his jacket and shot Swanson between the eyes. Oswald froze. Two bullets spiraled into his chest before he could reach for his weapon. The killer’s next bullet blew through his forehead, and he was dead when he hit the asphalt.

The door to the store opened, and the blond man who had identified himself as Arn Belson of Homeland Security at the China Sea walked out. He had hidden behind the counter next to the body of Tiffany Truffant when he saw the patrol car pull into the lot because he was worried that the officers would recognize him from the China Sea. Belson studied the officers.

“It’s them,” he told the shooter. “Good work. Let’s adios before anyone else shows up.”

They walked around the corner to where their black SUV was waiting in the shadows.

Later that night, Jed Truffant would find the bodies of the officers and his wife when he came from their cabin to spell Tiffany. By that time, the killers were almost in Seattle.

Chapter Forty

Jack Stamm stood up as soon as Monte Pike, the heads of units in the DA’s office, Arnie Lasswell, and the three in-house investigators were seated around the conference table.

“We have a problem,” he said. “Max Dietz has disappeared.”

Everyone looked surprised. Then they looked at each other and began to ask questions. Stamm held up his hand and the room quieted.

“Max has been depressed ever since I took him out of the Homicide Unit after the Woodruff case fell apart. Another problem arose recently, and don’t ask me what happened. I’m not going to discuss it. But it made Max’s situation worse.

“The last time anyone in this office saw Max was Thursday afternoon. His secretary says that he seemed excited. He asked her for some subpoenas, and then he shut himself in his office. Around three, Max left the office, and no one has seen him since. No alarms went off on Friday. Then there was the weekend. He missed two court appearances Monday and another one Tuesday. His secretary called his house, but she got the answering machine both days. After the Tuesday call, she came to see me.”

Stamm nodded toward one of the investigators. “Bob went to Max’s house Tuesday afternoon. There was no car in the driveway, and he didn’t answer the door. I authorized him to go inside in case there was a medical emergency. The house was neat, and there were no signs of a struggle, and no signs of Max. So, my first question is, does anyone know where he is?”

Dead silence.

“OK, I want each unit head to ask your people if they have any information that can help us find Max. Most of you know Arnie Lasswell.” The detective held up his hand. “He’s heading up the investigation. Contact him if you get anything. Any questions?”

A few people raised their hands. When Stamm finished answering them, he ended the meeting. Monte Pike held back until everyone else had filed out of the room.

“You don’t think Max…?”

The word suicide hung in the air between them.

“Monte, I have no clue about why Max disappeared or where he is.”

“He was really upset when you wouldn’t let him try the case, and this Brady thing only made it worse.”

“I know. I’ve been worried about Max, but I never thought he’d do anything stupid.”

“I sort of feel responsible. I’m the one who told you about my meeting with Garrett.”

“You had to tell me,” Stamm said. “Max sat on Oswald’s information because he wanted to win. That was wrong. It was his choice to break the rules, and you had nothing to do with it. Don’t beat yourself up because you did the right thing in coming to see me.”

“Intellectually I get what you just said, but I’ll still feel like shit if something bad has happened to Max because of something I did.”

Chapter Forty-one

Great generals shone on the battlefield, Olympic athletes excelled on their playing fields, and Mary Garrett knew she had few equals in a court of law. She was smarter and better prepared than almost every lawyer she’d gone up against, and she truly believed that her work ethic and mental agility were second to none. When she strode through the doors of the Honorable Herbert Brandenburg’s court, Mary appeared to be a force of nature, but this time, unlike almost every other time she had gone into battle, she was radiating a confidence she did not feel.

Monte Pike had filed motions in limine to keep out all evidence concerning the China Sea. Two days ago, her investigator had come into her office shortly after eleven in the morning and told her that Tom Oswald and Jerry Swanson, the eyewitnesses to the events on the ship, were dead. Without Oswald and Swanson, she had little chance of defeating Pike’s motions.

Mary hadn’t told her client, but Judge Brandenburg ’s decision on Pike’s motions in limine would have a huge impact on Mary’s ability to win the case. In the motions, Pike was asking the judge for a pretrial decision limiting the evidence the defense would be allowed to introduce at trial concerning the murders on board the China Sea, the substance found in the hold, and John Finley’s connection to the ship. With that evidence, Mary could present the jurors with an alternative explanation for Finley’s murder. Without it, Sarah’s chances of an acquittal were slim.

From the outset, Mary had had grave misgivings when she had learned that Sarah’s case had been assigned to the elderly jurist. Brandenburg had a full head of snow white hair, a Roman nose, and piercing blue eyes that gave him the appearance of high intelligence, but everyone in the legal community knew that there was a dim bulb beneath the elegant hairdo. Brandenburg had a massive inferiority complex and was loath to admit his inability to understand legal issues. He frequently took the easy way out by ruling for the State in criminal cases, banking on the low reversal rates in appellate courts. He also disliked complicated trials, which Sarah’s would become if Mary was allowed to introduce evidence of clandestine government operations or drug smuggling by international drug cartels.

Monte Pike sounded almost apologetic as he outlined to Judge Brandenburg the arguments that would destroy Sarah Woodruff’s chance for an acquittal. The young DA’s logic was impeccable and left no doubt that his positions were correct. Even Mary was momentarily hypnotized by Pike.

As soon as Pike finished his opening statement, Judge Brandenburg asked Mary for her rebuttal.

“I’d prefer to put on my evidence, Your Honor. The evidence will establish a clear connection between what happened on the China Sea and the murder of Mr. Finley,” Mary said with more conviction than she really felt.