The Witness

fleeing a scene. A BOLO and APB. You’re wanted for questioning in the matter of those agents’ deaths, and the explosion of the safe house.”
    Her fingers linked together, painfully tight, in her lap. “Interoffice communication indicates that Keegan and Cosgrove have been taken attheir word. Wanted for questioning is simply a ruse in order to charge me for murder, or accessory to murder.”
    “How would you be privy to interoffice communication?”
    Saying nothing, Brooks reached over, unlaced her fingers, kept his hand on hers.
    “I’m a computer scientist, and specialize in security. I’m also a hacker.”
    “And you’re telling me you can access confidential files and memos inside the U.S. Marshals Service and the FBI?”
    “Yes. I’m very skilled, and this has been a priority for me. Both Keegan and Cosgrove made statements which claim they came in, found Terry down in the kitchen and her weapon missing. As they began to call it in, they were fired on by persons unknown, and Cosgrove sustained a wound. As Keegan returned fire, the lights went out. Keegan was able to get Cosgrove outside, call in the incident. But before he could go back in for Terry, or to find me or John, the house exploded. He also claimed he believed he saw someone fleeing.”
    “That about sums up what I remember from it,” Anson agreed.
    “One of the prevailing theories is I grew panicked, or perhaps bored, and contacted the Volkovs to make a deal. They tracked me to the safe house, and I fought with Terry as I tried to get out. Either I or persons unknown associated with the Volkovs shot John, fired on Keegan and Cosgrove, and I either escaped in the confusion or was taken. The assassins then blew up the house to cover the tracks—or I did it.”
    “A sixteen-year-old girl getting the draw on two marshals
and
blowing up a house.” Brooks shook his head. “I wouldn’t buy it.”
    “A highly intelligent girl who’d been trained personally by one of those marshals in firearms, who’d requested and received five thousand in cash from her trust fund, who’d forged IDs, had spent a summer while the legal wheel slowly turned, thinking about what would happen to her once she testified.” The logic of it stood firmly enough for Abigail. “It’s reasonable to believe that girl snapped, tried to make it all go away.”
    “Reasonable,” Anson commented, “when there’s nothing to contradict the statements and timelines, such as a conflicting statement from an eyewitness.”
    “I don’t believe the theory I murdered John and Terry, or had a part in their murders, will hold,” Abigail told him. “But I do believe if I’m taken in, that won’t matter. I’ll be dead within twenty-four hours. It might be staged as a suicide, but I favor direct elimination.”
    “You’re very cool about it,” Anson observed.
    “I’ve had a number of years to consider what they’d do to me if they could.”
    “Why come in now?”
    She looked at Brooks. “If I don’t, nothing changes. And so much already has. Brooks asked me to trust him, and in doing so, to trust you. I’m trying.”
    “She’s been feeding, anonymously, an FBI agent based in Chicago with intel on the Volkov organization.”
    “And you have that intel because you’re hacking into the Volkov network?” Puffing out his cheeks, Anson sat back. “You must be one hell of a hacker.”
    “Yes, I am. The Volkov organization is very computer-centric, and they believe they’re very safe, very well shielded. They have excellent techs,” she added. “I’m better than they are. Also, Ilya is consistently careless in this area. It’s, in my opinion, a kind of arrogance. He uses e-mail and texts routinely for both business and personal correspondence.”
    “They’ve made a number of arrests on that intel, Captain,” Brooks said.
    “Who’s your FBI contact?”
    Abigail looked at Brooks, got his nod. “Special Agent Elyse Garrison.”
    “Why didn’t you go to her with your story?”
    “If it leaked—and I know there’s at least one Volkov mole inside the Chicago office—she could be taken, tortured, killed. Killed outright.She could be used to lure me in. They haven’t been able to trace the contact to me. Once they do, her life and mine are put at serious risk.”
    “You want someone to make contact for you, someone who isn’t—as far as any check would show—connected in any way to Elizabeth Fitch.”
    “Someone,” Brooks continued, “with a