Deadly Stillwater

Skrypek pointed to the entrance to the natural foods store. “A black van, panel type, came out of the grocery store parking lot and turned left. A guy – big guy – came out of the alley on the other side of the street behind the bank, scooped up Flanagan, and threw her into the van while it was on the move. The van then peeled off and turned right, headed west on Grand. Sounds like the same thing as yesterday.”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Do we have a broadcast out on that? Black van, et cetera?” Mac asked, looking around the scene, using his hand to shade his eyes.

“Yes,” Skrypek replied.

“How long between their taking her and us getting it out on the air? How long before we were pulling over vans?”

The young patrolman’s shoulders slumped.

“The witnesses,” he pointed toward a group of four people by his squad car, “seem to think it took us two or three minutes to get here. I asked a few questions and put it out. At best, it’s five, more likely six or seven minutes before we got it out.”

How do we know it was Carrie? Are we sure?” Riles asked.

“A guy that Carrie works with at Lamonica’s Pizza over there was standing out front and sweeping the sidewalk,” Skrypek answered. “He heard a squealing of tires and looked up in time to see a brunette woman who looked like Flanagan get scooped up and thrown into the van. Her shift starts at 11:45 AM, after her class ends over at St. Thomas, just in time for the lunch rush.”

Carrie Flanagan was a summer student at the University of St. Thomas, which sat six blocks to the west. The campus was a classic, with old stone buildings and ivy-covered walls set on the north side of Summit Avenue.

“The Lamonica’s guy told me Flanagan has an apartment a block further east on Grand,” Skrypek continued. She usually walks the five or six blocks over to the school and then walks back this way along Summit, then takes a right on Fairview and comes to the pizza joint. She hasn’t showed for her shift, so we’re pretty sure it was her.”

Before they could discuss matters further, Burton pulled up with his entourage. Riles gave him the rundown.

“What’s the connection between Hisle and Flanagan?” Burton asked.

“We don’t know,” Pat replied. “The chief and Lyman have been involved in a lot of cases over the years. Hell, we’ve all… crossed… paths with… Lyman… over the years. Shit. Are we all the targets?”

“Shit,” Rock said, suddenly panicked. “My wife…”

“I gotta call Dot,” Lich said, reaching for his cell phone.

“Let’s get uniforms with spouses and kids,” Burton ordered.

“Hold it! Hold it! HOLD IT!” Mac said, putting his hands up. “Calm the heck down and keep your heads, for cripes’ sake. They’re not taking everyone right this minute. We’ll get uniforms on our people and move them. But right now, we need to stay on Carrie. Let’s concentrate on these mother fuckers in the here and now.”

Everyone gave Mac a peeved look at first, but then quickly calmed, realizing he was right.

“McRyan has a point,” Burton said. “Though just to be safe, I’ll put a man on arranging protection for your families.”

Everyone nodded appreciation. Riley quickly got back to the case.

“Okay, so what do we know now?”

“We’ve got to work this,” Mac said.

“Lyman’s a criminal lawyer, and we got the chief,” Lich said. “That’s the connection, someone the chief busted and Lyman represented. The answer has to be in the criminal files.”

That’s the most logical connection, and we’re already fishing in that pond,” Burton agreed. “That should narrow things down considerably, especially once we start matching up against cases Flanagan’s worked. That’s where all our resources will go now. We were going to start into civil cases as well but now we need to focus on those criminal files.”

“We got to get the chief and Lyman together,” Riles added. “Get them talking. If this is connected, which you’d think it has to be, then maybe there’s a name that will ring a bell to them.”

“We’re going to see Flanagan,” Burton said, turning back to his black Suburban. “You guys run the scene here. If these were our guys, the chief’s apt to be getting a phone call and I want to be there.”

“Burton,” Riles said, grabbing his arm, walking along with him. “You better have Rockford and I go with you. The chief’s going to need friendly faces.”

“The other thing is, we need Hisle as well,” Burton said.

“Agreed,” Riles answered, reaching for his pocket. “I’ll call Peters and ask him to bring Hisle in.”

“Mac, you and Lich work this,” Riles said, the urgency in his voice clear. “You work this fuckin’ scene.”

For the next hour, Mac and Lich worked the witnesses, standing where they stood, going over what they saw in detail, walking through it again and again. Mac went so far as to put the witnesses back in their spots, trying to get a picture for the abduction. He had them close their eyes and describe it, wringing every last detail out of their memories. It was frustrating work – the witnesses all saw parts of things, but nobody saw the whole thing.