Page 80 of Crosshairs

Harry gave us his car since our surveillance vehicle was shot to pieces. I turned down Trilling’s offer to drive. The FBI office wasn’t too far from here. I took one more look at the body covered by a tarp. I wondered what Joe Tavarez had been about to tell me just before he got shot.

I said a prayer for him.

CHAPTER 100

I PULLED HARRY’S car into someone’s reserved spot in front of the FBI. Rob Trilling and I were inside the building a few seconds later. The expression on the receptionist’s face when I identified myself made me pause.

The young woman said, “You’re here about Cindy Tavarez, right?”

“How’d you know that?”

She held up a long, slender finger as she spoke to someone on the phone. We only had to wait a minute to see who the receptionist had called: Assistant Special Agent in Charge Robert Lincoln.

Lincoln didn’t bother to greet us at all. Not even a nod. He walked right up to me and said, “We’ve already informed Cindy about her husband. One of the NYPD officers on a task force told me about the incident and I didn’t think we should withhold thatfrom Cindy.” Then he folded his arms across his chest and stared at me like I was going to refute his reasoning.

I said, “I appreciate your thoughtfulness. We’d like to ask Cindy a couple of important questions. We don’t feel like it can wait.”

“Why?”

I hesitated, the natural instinct of any cop to not share details of a case before it’s finished. “It appears that someone from either the NYPD or the FBI is the Longshot Killer. Or at the very least fed him information. We need to know if Cindy mentioned to anyone today’s covert operation we had going on. I think this is an important issue for both of us.”

Lincoln took a long moment to consider the situation. I couldn’t get a read on his facial expression. After a full twenty seconds, Lincoln made a decision. He looked at Trilling and me and said, “This way.”

We followed him up the stairwell and through a maze of hallways until we were in the analysts’ common room. Cindy Tavarez sat on a long brown couch with two women, one on either side of her. She held a soaking-wet paper towel and used it to wipe the tears from her eyes.

We hung back until Cindy looked up at us and burst into a new set of sobs. Her two friends, who had been comforting her, moved from the couch so I could sit down. I sat quietly while Cindy first asked me a few questions. I told her everything I knew. When I thought she was calm enough for me to continue, I hit her with my big question.

“Who saw the memo about the NYPD operation to take an indicted cop to court?”

Cindy sniffled. “We all did. It was one of the more interestingmemos to come through the office in a long time. We all looked at it and speculated about what was going on. When I talked with Joe about it last night, he told me his theory that it wasn’t what it looked like. He’d seen some other memo about using four Emergency Service members in plain clothes. He thought it was some kind of operation to catch the sniper.” Cindy blew her nose into the wet paper towel.

I couldn’t help but glance around the room as she spoke, wondering who else could be a suspect. No one jumped out at me.

CHAPTER 101

WE WAITED WHILE Cindy Tavarez composed herself on the couch. Another analyst, an older woman named Rochelle Lynch, joined us. I got the impression that Rochelle was a senior analyst. She also had a clear head. I gave the two of them a moment to discuss the issue and to look through a printed-out roster of analysts.

I noticed that ASAC Robert Lincoln hadn’t gone anywhere. He stood back and let us conduct the interview, but he clearly wanted to be in the loop. That made me nervous as ever with the FBI.

I felt jittery, like I had to do something. Anything. That happens in homicide cases when things take weird turns and you’re not sure how to proceed. Joe Tavarez showing up at a trap we’d set intending to catch him definitely qualified as a weird turn. I wanted to figure out who the Longshot Killer was and stop him right this minute.

Rob Trilling started to make notes next to the names Cindy and Rochelle were going through. All the analysts had been with the FBI for years. A couple of the younger ones weren’t in the office yesterday. When they came to the name Darnell Nash, both women paused.

I said, “That’s the guy who served with Joe in the Army, right?” Before Cindy even nodded, everything clicked into place. I remembered Joe telling me that Darnell may not have been a sniper in the service but that he could shoot really well.

I blurted out, “Is Nash here?”

Rochelle Lynch answered. “He’s in the building. I noticed he came in a couple of hours early, but that’s not unusual. Sometimes analysts take care of personal business and make up for it with extra time.”

I sprang up from the couch and looked at Lincoln. “Can you call Nash, get him to come here without scaring him?”

Lincoln started to speak, then something outside caught his eye. He did a double take, said, “Too late. He’s definitely scared.” He pointed out the window.

I stepped forward and saw Darnell Nash getting into a white Ford Focus, then backing out of the parking spot.

I spun and almost yelled to Trilling, “Nash is trying to run! Let’s see if we can chase him down.”

Lincoln kept a calm tone as he said, “You’ll never catch him if you parked out front. My car is the second from the door. Follow me.”