The Patrick Bowers Files - 05 - The Queen Read Online Free PDF Page B

winter session for academically gifted seniors considering attending in the fall. After seeing her SAT scores, the U of M was so bent on recruiting her that they’d sent an admissions officer to meet with her at our home in Denver in October, before her dramatic grade point slide this last semester.
    With her academic record, I doubted she needed a class on research methodology, but since her parents had attended U of M, I wasn’t surprised she’d agreed to sign up for the class, at least to check out the campus.
    Of course, maybe now that both her mother and father were gone, it could have simply been a way for her to honor their memory.
    Four members of the Bureau’s Evidence Response Team entered the trailer, and I walked toward the driveway to get some privacy for the call. Last weekend I’d decided my investigation took precedence over chauffeuring Tessa around the Midwest, so I’d arranged for a rental car for her, and though someone her age wasn’t officially supposed to drive one, the Bureau has an arrangement with rental car companies at every major airport. With my credentials I was able to swing it.
    She didn’t answer, so I left her a voicemail explaining what was going on. “If this storm hits early, I may need you to stay in the Cities for another day or two. Talk to you soon.”
    Then I returned the body armor to the SWAT guys, and by the time I arrived at the car, Jake was waiting for me.
    â€œWell,” he said, “I guess this is another case we’ll be working together.”
    â€œYes.”
    Being over six feet tall I had to stoop to get into the rental car. I slid into the driver’s seat, Jake climbed in the other side. “Director Wellington says you have a brother in the area.”
    â€œDoes she?” I started the engine.
    â€œI didn’t know you had a brother.”
    â€œYes.” I turned the car around and headed for the highway. “I have a brother.”
    â€œWhat’s his name?”
    â€œSean—but if you don’t mind I’d rather stick to the case right now than talk about—”
    â€œRight. Of course.” He overdramatized the words. “Didn’t mean to pry.”
    A moment passed. “It’s all right. Did Margaret mention which ERT agent she was sending up to process the scene?”
    â€œNatasha Farraday. She had a few things to wrap up here; should get to Woodborough around 8:30.”
    What Natasha lacked in experience, she made up for in persistence. A good choice.
    Jake positioned his iPad 2 on his lap. “Director Wellington had the deputy who sent in the photos of the snowmobile tracks to the Lab, guy named Bryan Ellory, send us the crime scene photos of the house.”
    â€œSo, preliminary police reports?”
    He tapped the screen. “Looks it, yeah.”
    â€œRead me what we have.”
    Jake opened the files, I found the highway and headed north as the glow along the western horizon drained slowly into night.

    Alexei collected his baggage from carousel 6 in the Minneapolis–St. Paul International Airport and headed to the Avis reservation desk. He was traveling under the name of Neil Kreger and had a midsized sedan waiting for him.
    Neil Kreger.
    He mentally reviewed this identity’s family history, work experience, previous residential addresses, habits, interests. The sum of a life never lived.
    It was just over a four-hour drive to Elk Ridge, Wisconsin. He’d hoped to arrive earlier, but as it turned out, the day’s work schedule had not allowed for that.
    It’d been a busy morning, first chatting with Rear Admiral Colberg and then setting everything up for his regrettable fatal car accident near Cedarville State Forest in Brandywine, Maryland, not far from his home.
    Before boarding his plane to the Twin Cities, Alexei heard that, unfortunately, Dashiell Collet had not survived the night. Erin had, however—awakening just as Valkyrie