hauling a couple of grocery bags out of her car.
Sawyer helped her and then held out his official credentials. Jackson
did likewise.
The woman looked confused. “FBI? I didn’t think they called in the FBI
for burglary.”
“Burglary, Ms …. ?”
“Oh, I’m sorry–Amanda, Amanda Reynolds. We’ve lived here for about two
years and it’s the first time we had the police on the block. They
stole all of Jeff’s computer equipment.”
“You’ve already talked to the police, I take it?”
She looked sheepish. “We moved down from New York City.
There, you don’t chain your car to an anchor it’s gone in the morning.
You’re on your guard. Here?” She shook her head. “Still, I feel like
an idiot. I thought for sure it was all on the up and up. I just
didn’t think stuff like that happened in an area like this.”
“Have you seen Mr. Fisher recently?”
The woman’s brow wilted into furrows. “Oh, three or four days ago, at
least. So miserable outside this time of the year, everyone stays
indoors.”
They thanked her and drove over to the Alexandria Police Station.
When they inquired about the burglary at Jeff Fisher’s house, the desk
sergeant punched some keys on his computer.
“Yeah, that’s right. Fisher. In fact, I was on duty the night they
brought him in.” The desk sergeant stared at the screen, scrolling down
some of the text with his skinny fingers while Sawyer and Jackson
exchanged puzzled looks. “Came in on a reckless endangerment spewing
this story about some guys following him. We thought he’d had a few too
many. Did a sobriety test; he wasn’t drunk but he reeked of beer. Kept
him overnight just to be sure, he posted bail the next day, got his
court date and left.”
Sawyer stared at the man. “You’re saying Jeff Fisher was arrested?”
“That’s right.”
“And the next day his home was burglarized?”
The desk sergeant nodded his head and leaned against the counter. “Quite
a run of bad luck, I’d say.”
“Did he describe the people following him?” Sawyer asked.
The sergeant looked at the FBI agent as if he wanted to smell his breath
as well. “There wasn’t anybody following him.”
“You’re sure?”
The sergeant rolled his eyes and smiled.
“Okay, you said he wasn’t drunk and yet you kept him overnight?” Sawyer
put his hands on the counter.
“Well, you know some of these folks, those tests don’t work on them.
Down a twelve-pack and the breathalyzer comes back a point-oh-one.
Fisher was driving crazy and acting drunk, anyway. We thought it best
to keep him overnight. If he was intoxicated, he could at least sleep
it off.”
“And he didn’t object?”
“Hell, no, said he’d never spent a night in jail before. Thought it
might be refreshing.” The sergeant shook his bald head. “Doesn’t that
take the cake? Refreshing, my ass!”
“You don’t have any idea where he is now?”
“Hell, we couldn’t even find him to tell him his place was broken into.
Like I said, he posted his bail and got his court date. Only gets to be
my concern if he doesn’t show.”
“Anything else you can think of?” Sawyer’s face was full of
disappointment.
The sergeant drummed his fingers on the counter, staring off into space.
Finally Sawyer looked at Jackson and they started to leave.
“Well, thanks for your help.”
They were halfway to the door before the man broke out of his trance.
“The guy gave me a package to mail for him, can you believe that crap? I
mean, I know I wear a uniform, but do I look like a mailman?”
“A package?” Sawyer and Jackson bolted back to the counter.
The sergeant was shaking his head as he recalled the event. “I tell him
he can make a phone call and he says, before he does that could I just
pretty please drop this in the mail chute for him? Postage is already
on it, he says. He’d really appreciate it.” The sergeant laughed.
Sawyer stared at the man. “The package—did you mail it?”
The sergeant stopped chuckling and blinked at Sawyer. “What?
Yeah, ! put it in that chute right over there. I mean, it wasn’t any