Read Online The Eagle Catcher by Margaret Coel - Free Book Online

to arrest him on suspicion of murder.”
    â€œYou had a warrant?”
    â€œI imagine the magistrate’s gonna oblige.”
    â€œOn what grounds? Running out the back door?”
    â€œResisting arrest.”
    â€œYou had informed Anthony he was under arrest?”
    Banner gripped both sides of the table and leaned over the end. “No, Vicky. We just wanted to talk with him. We weren’t fixing to arrest him.” The chief shot a glance at the agent.
    â€œSo Anthony could hardly have been resisting arrest,” Vicky said.
    â€œLet’s cut the crapola, counselor,” Miller said. He placed his elbows on the table, made a tent over the notebook with his arms, and rested his chin on his knuckles. “Nobody runs unless he’s got something to hide.”
    Vicky sensed the strength in the man, the determination. She forced herself to keep her eyes on his. “There is some explanation.”
    â€œHow you gonna explain this?” Miller hoisted a large brown briefcase from the floor and set it on the table between them. Opening the lid, he pulled out a plastic zip-lock bag which he pushed toward her. A hunting knife lay inside. Leaning over, she could make out the initials AC on the silver band at the base of the handle.
    â€œBehold the murder weapon,” he said.
    â€œWell, might be the murder weapon.” Banner glanced again at the agent. “We won’t know for sure ’til we get some lab tests done.”
    Â 
    The entry compartment was the size of a small closet. Vicky felt wedged in between the BIA police chief she had known all her life and this white FBI agent who had suddenly appeared in these parts, like a strange prickly pear cactus. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck. They were standing still, but she had the sense of plunging downward in an elevator, of anticipating the inevitable hard stop.
    How many times had she stepped into this compartment and waited for the electronic buzzer to swing open the door ahead and admit her to the inner sanctum of the Fremont County jail? On many of those occasions, John O’Malley had stood beside her, a tall presence looming over her, and she thought now what a calm and reassuring presence it was. She wished he were here now.
    The buzzer rippled through the compartment like an electrical charge, and they filed through the opened door onto the gray concrete floor of the cell block. Directly across a narrow hallway stood another glass-enclosed station with three deputies watching other television screens.
    One stood up, disappeared a moment, then reappeared outside the station. “This way,” he said, leading them down the hallway between whitewashed cinderblock walls. He halted in front of a cream-colored meta! door and slid a key into the lock. Pushing the door ajar, he said, “Knock when you’re ready.”
    Anthony rushed toward them, and for a second Vicky feared he would make a break for the door. Instead he stopped abruptly, arms dangling at his sides, like a little kid who didn’t know what to do next. She put both arms around him and hugged him. He was taller than Lucas and more muscular. It had been more than a year since she’d seen either Lucas or her daughter, Susan.
    Swallowing back the tears, she said, “It’s going to be okay, Anthony. Just tell Chief Banner and Agent Miller what you know.”
    â€œHave a seat,” Miller said. Swinging the briefcase he had brought from the conference room, he directed Anthony to the end of the oak table. The table covered most of the floor space in the narrow room. Miller and Banner settled in side by side while Vicky took a chair across from them. The agent plopped the briefcase onto the polished tabletop.
    â€œI have the duty to remind you that you are a suspect in the murder of your uncle, Harvey Castle,” the fed began.
    â€œThat’s bull,” Anthony said.
    â€œWhere were you last night after