Smokies Special Agent. Lena Diaz
a placating gesture. “I’m just stating facts. When you slammed me to the ground, you dislocated my shoulder.” She shrugged, then winced and clasped her left hand over her right shoulder as if she was in pain.
He wasn’t buying her act. And he sure as certain wasn’t letting her version of events go unchallenged. “I think what you meant to say was that I tackled you to keep from being shot, after you’d just shot an unarmed man and then turned your pistol on me.”
A red flush crept up her neck. “I thought the hiker had a gun. And you attacked me. I was protecting myself.”
“The only one attacking anyone up there was you.” He tapped the lump on his temple where she’d punched him, which he knew already had a visible bruise.
Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t respond.
He waved toward the back right corner of the trailer. “Why isn’t she locked up in the holding cell? Or on her way to jail courtesy of Gatlinburg PD? She could have killed Kurt Vale.”
“Could have?” Her eyes widened. “Then...he’s alive?”
The hopeful tone of her voice sounded false to him. “The time for concern would have been before you pulled the trigger and shot an innocent man. But if you’re asking whether you managed to kill him, the answer is no. I just left him at the hospital after the doctor stitched him up.”
“I’m glad he’s okay.”
Ignoring her, he turned to his boss. “What’s going on here?”
Lee addressed the man silently observing them from the other side of the desk. “FBI Supervisory Special Agent Leon Johnson, meet Special Agent Duncan McKenzie, criminal investigator with the National Park Service.”
Johnson held his hand out without bothering to pry his generous frame out of the ridiculously small folding chair beneath him.
Duncan leaned across the desk and shook the agent’s hand, but his attention once again turned to the woman. Four hours ago she’d shot a hiker. Now she was parked beside an FBI agent. Why? Since he regularly studied the FBI’s ten most-wanted-fugitives list, he knew she wasn’t on it. But she must have done something pretty dang bad to warrant the FBI showing up, especially this soon after the shooting. So why wasn’t she handcuffed? Or in the cell while the agent spoke to his boss?
“I’m a little lost.” Duncan glanced back and forth between Lee and Johnson. “Since our shooting suspect is sitting beside an FBI agent, I assume there’s something else going on that involves her, besides what happened this morning. Can someone catch me up here?”
“What’s going on,” Johnson said, “is that your shooting suspect is one of our agents. She was off duty, supposed to be on vacation, not running around shooting people.”
Duncan stared at him in shock. The woman from this morning’s shooting was a Fed? A fellow law-enforcement officer? He hadn’t gotten to speak to her after the shooting. He didn’t even know her name. He’d been too busy trying to keep Kurt Vale from bleeding out. As soon as McAlister and Grady had arrived to take her into custody, he hadn’t given her another thought. Instead, he’d helped the medics get Vale down the mountain to the waiting ambulance.
“You’re FBI?” He couldn’t quite wrap his head around that.
She stood and held out her left hand, since her right one was in the sling. “Special Agent Remi Jordan.”
He eyed her hand like he would a poisonous snake.
She took the hint and sat back down.
Johnson laboriously rose to his feet and tugged his suit jacket into place. “Special Agent Jordan has waived her right to an attorney and has declined my offer to stay here with her. She has assured me that she’s prepared to fully cooperate with your investigation. Isn’t that right?”
She gave him a curt nod, but didn’t meet his gaze.
“I’ve already taken her badge,” Johnson said. “And your crime scene unit logged her gun as evidence. She’s now on administrative leave, pending the results of your investigation. If either of you gentlemen need anything further from my office, let me know.” He tapped a white business card sitting on the desk. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to Knoxville.” He grabbed his coat from a peg behind Lee’s desk and then shrugged into it as he headed toward the door.
Duncan watched the man leave, distaste burning like acid in his throat. For the first time since the shooting earlier today, he felt a tug of sympathy for the woman sitting on the other side of the desk. No matter what she’d told Johnson, the man was her boss. It was his duty to look out for her. He should have insisted that she get a lawyer, or brought one with him. Lee sure would have. He’d fight like a rabid bobcat to defend every member of his team. Justice would be served, of course. But he’d do everything he could to ensure that his officers’ rights were protected.
Lee pushed back his chair and stood. “Special Agent Jordan, with you getting that shoulder patched up and your boss asking us to wait until he got here to talk, we haven’t had much of a chance to discuss the details of the shooting. Special Agent McKenzie will take your statement. In the meantime, my stomach is eating a hole through my spine. I’ll head down the mountain and get us all some lunch. Any dietary restrictions or preferences I should know about?”
Her expression turned wary as she obviously debated whether or not to trust him. From the way her own boss had just acted, Duncan couldn’t blame her.
“That’s very nice of you,” she told Lee. “Thank you. And no, no restrictions. Whatever you get is fine and much appreciated.”
“All right. I’ll be back in an hour, give or take.” He grabbed his gloves and heavy jacket hanging on the wall behind his chair and motioned toward Pup and Pops. “Grady, you’re my pack mule this trip,” he called out. “You can chauffer me into town while I check my email on my phone.”
From the grin on the kid’s eager face, he must have thought he’d won the lottery. He jumped up so fast that he almost overturned his chair.
Pops shook his head, but a smile played around his lips as he turned to his computer monitor. Grady started peppering Lee with questions about procedures and reports before Lee could even close the door behind them. The pained expression on his face when he glanced back had Duncan wondering if his boss already regretted his decision to take his newest employee with him into town.
Duncan motioned toward the back wall. His anger had given way to grudging curiosity now that he knew his suspect was in law enforcement. With a federal agent involved, he could understand why Lee had chosen not to turn her over to the local police. Instead, the NPS would handle it as an interagency courtesy—at least for now. It was up to Duncan to get the answers to the questions that had been rolling around in his head from the moment he’d taken a hiker’s call early this morning.
“Special Agent Jordan, if you’ll take a seat in the other room, I need to grab my laptop to take notes.”
She stood and waved toward the reinforced-glass and steel door on the far right. “In there?”
He followed her gesture. “Ah, no. That’s the holding cell. In spite of what I may have said earlier about locking you up, in the eight years that I’ve worked here, we’ve never once used that room for its intended purpose. It’s stuffed with boxes of office supplies and old case files.” He motioned toward the door on the far left. “I meant the conference room. I’m sure you were shown where the restroom was earlier.” He motioned toward the middle door. “If you need—”
“No, thank you.” She moved stiffly past him and marched into the conference room like a prisoner heading to death row.
When Special Agent Remi Jordan passed Duncan, he was