3rd Degree

Chapter 49

“I'M READY to make that call.” The FBI man nodded to Molinari, completely ignoring everything I'd just said. That really burned me.

“I just want to be clear, Lieutenant,” Molinari said, focus-ing on me. “You think there's another killer, a copycat, at work here.”

“It could be a copycat. It could be some sort of splinter group, too. Believe me, I wish I could say it was murder num-ber three, because now we're left with a bigger problem.”

“I don't understand.” The deputy director finally blinked.

“If it isn't the same killer,” I said, “then the terror has started to spread. I think that's exactly what's happened.”

Molinari nodded slowly. “I'm going to advise the Bureau, Agent Thompson, to treat these cases as independent actions. At least for the time being.”

Agent Thompson sighed.

“In the meantime, we still have a murder to solve. The man's dead here,” the deputy director snapped. He looked around the room, his gaze ending up on Thompson. “Any-one have a problem with that?”

“No, sir,” Thompson said, flipping his phone back into his jacket pocket.

I was stunned. Molinari had backed me up. Even Hannah Wood mooned her eyes in his direction.

We spent the rest of the day at the FBI regional office in Portland. We interviewed the person Propp was meeting in Vancouver and his economist friend at Portland State. Moli-nari also brought me in on two calls back to senior inves-tigators at his home office in D.C., backing up my theory that this was a copycat crime and that the terror might be spreading.

About five, it dawned on me that I couldn't stay up there much longer. There were a couple of fairly prominent cases that needed my attention back home. Brenda informed me there was a Southwest flight back to San Francisco at 6:30.

I knocked on the gray, carpet-covered cubicle Molinari was using for an office. “If you don't need me up here any-more, I thought I'd head home. It was fun being `Fed for a Day.'”

Molinari smiled. “Look, I was hoping you might stay a couple of hours. Have dinner with me.”

Standing there, I did my best to pretend that it didn't mat-ter hearing those words, but my general rule about Feds notwithstanding, I was curious. Who wouldn't be?

But a few reasons why I shouldn't be popped into my head as well. Like the murder cases on my board. And the fact that Molinari was the second most powerful law-enforcement figure in the country. And unless I was misreading the little tingle bubbling up my spine, knocking down the old Chinese wall in the middle of a high-profile murder investigation wasn't exactly the best protocol.

“There's an eleven o'clock back to San Francisco,” Moli-nari said. “I promise I'll have you to the airport in plenty of time. C'mon, Lindsay.”

When I hesitated one more time, he stood up. “Hey, if you can't trust Homeland Security... who can you trust?”

“Two conditions,” I said.

“Okay,” the deputy director agreed. “If I can.”

“Seafood,” I said.

Molinari showed the outline of a smile. “I think I know just the place....”

“And no FBI agents.”

Molinari's head went back in a laugh. “That's the one thing I can definitely guarantee.”