Walk the Wire (Amos Decker #6)(3)

“What’s your secret then? Because it looked like everyone else on the plane was praying, flight attendants included.”

“I survived a crash landing when I was in college. Engine went out on takeoff. Pilot circled back around, dumped some fuel, then the other engine died and he had to go in for an immediate landing. Found out later it was a twin bird strike. We hit hard enough to take out the landing gear and crack the fuselage. Everybody got off before the jet fuel ignited and fire ate the plane. I did lose my duffel of clothes,” he added casually.

“My God,” said a pale Jamison. “Then I’m surprised you’re not more nervous than I am.”

“I looked up the odds. They’re about a billion to one for my having a second incident. I feel like I’m golden now.”

They deplaned, signed the documents for their rental SUV, and headed out from Williston Basin International Airport.

“Wow,” said Jamison when they got outside and the wind slammed into them. Even the giant Decker was buffeted. “I don’t think I packed the right clothes,” she noted miserably. “I should have brought more layers.”

“What more do you need than pants and a shirt and a badge and gun?”

“It’s different for women, Decker.”

Jamison drove while Decker punched the directions into his phone navigation. Then he settled back and watched the road zip by. It was six o’clock in the evening and they were headed right into a gathering storm. Nasty black cumulus clouds reared up ahead of them like a towering serpent about to do some serious business over this patch of the upper Midwest.

“Irene Cramer,” said Decker softly as they drove along.

Jamison nodded and her features turned grim. “Found dead in the middle of nowhere by a guy tracking a wolf.”

“Most notably she was apparently autopsied,” added Decker.

“That’s a first, at least for me. How about you?”

“I’ve seen cut-up bodies, but not like the photos I saw. The crime scene was pretty clean except for the guy’s vomit.”

“Serial murderer? Is that why we got the call? Bogart didn’t really say.”

Ross Bogart was the head of their small task force. He was the one who had ordered the pair to North Dakota after the briefest of briefings.

“Maybe.”

“Did Ross sound strange when he talked to you?” asked Jamison. “He did to me.”

Decker nodded. “He couldn’t tell us something that he wanted to tell us.”

“How do you know that?”

“He’s a straight shooter who has to answer to political types.”

“I don’t like mysteries at both ends of a case,” groused Jamison.

“I don’t think this is necessarily a serial murderer.”

“Why not?”

“I could find nothing to match it in the databases. I checked before we flew out.”

“Could be a new player.”

“New players aren’t usually this sophisticated.”

“He might be trying to make a name for himself,” pointed out Jamison.

“They’re all trying to make a name for themselves,” replied Decker.

“But they don’t call the Bureau in for a local murder.”

“I think we need to look at the victim and not the killer for that reason.”

“You believe Irene Cramer was important to the Feds for some reason?”

“And it may also explain Bogart’s reticence.”

“Regardless, we’re clearly looking at a killer with forensic skills.”

“That could apply to quite a few people, including people on our side of the field.”

“An ME gone bad, maybe?” suggested Jamison.

Decker looked uncertain. “You can probably find a YouTube video of someone cutting up a mannequin. But the report said the cuts were professionally done.”

“You think this guy has had . . . what, practice?”

“I don’t think anything, at least right now.”

“Did you notice the highway here is all concrete?” said Jamison, glancing out the window.

“Asphalt apparently doesn’t hold up well in the extreme elements they have up here,” noted Decker. “Although I’m not sure how durable the concrete is, either.”

“Well, aren’t you a wealth of information.”

“I can Google stuff just like anybody else.”

“How much longer do we have to go?” asked Jamison.

Decker glanced at his phone screen. “Says forty-five minutes, nearly to the Canadian border.”

“So I guess that was the closest airport back there.”

“I think that was the only airport back there.”

“This has already been a long, exhausting day.”

“And it promises to be a longer night.”

“You’re going to start the investigation tonight?” she said, a little incredulously.

Decker gave her a stern look. “Never hurts to hit the ground running, Alex. Particularly when someone is dead who shouldn’t be.”





“WHAT ARE THOSE?” asked Jamison as they neared their destination.

She indicated fiery gold plumes that winked in the darkness like ghoulish holiday lights as they zipped past.