Free KnockOut by Catherine Coulter Page A

minor concussion, which, naturally, doesn’t make his head feel any better. He should be back in the saddle in a couple of days.”
    Savich said, “As you know, you asked us not to work this case, sir. This guy, do you have any ideas about him?”
    “Oh, yeah, we know who he is—her cousin. Actually, we already knew about him. Agents were trying to locate him in connection with the case, as soon as we got positive ID on Lissy and the others. Oh yes, you guys won’t believe this. As you know, a major rule for bank robbers is never carry ID. Well, this crew did, all nice and neat in their pockets. Pretty unprofessional of them and good for us. Now, the cousin wasn’t at his address in Winnett, North Carolina, and nobody had seen him for a good six weeks. He told a neighbor he was going backpacking in Europe for a couple of months. Both Daugherty and Coggins identified him from his driver’s license photo, so we already have it plastered everywhere.”
    “Does he own a car?”
    “No, a motorcycle.”
    Sherlock asked, “What’s the guy’s name, sir?”
    “Victor Nesser. His mother was Jennifer Smiley’s half sister, Marie. She married a Jordanian, Hasam Nesser, Victor’s dad, and the two of them moved back to Jordan four years ago. Victor was nearly seventeen at the time and didn’t want to go—we don’t know why—so he went to live with his mom’s half sister, Jennifer Smiley. At the time, Lissy Smiley was twelve years old.”
    “Bad choice,” Sherlock said. “So Jennifer seduced him over to the dark side?”
    “Maybe, or he went willingly enough,” Maitland said. “But don’t forget, when all the bank robberies began, Victor wasn’t a seventeen-year-old kid anymore, he was an adult, twenty-one years old.”
    Savich said, “I wonder what his relationship is with Lissy Smiley. That was quite a risk he took to get her away. Something’s there, something deep.”
    “Don’t know, but we need to find out. Jennifer Smiley hails from Fort Pessel, Virginia, a small town down near the North Carolina border that dates back to the Civil War. We already had agents search the Smiley house for the stolen money and interview everyone of interest, but they haven’t found out anything real helpful yet about her or Victor Nesser. Lots of rumors about the family, but, bottom line, they kept themselves real private, never socialized, seldom did business locally, except grocery shopping, that’s about it. Oh, yeah, and they liked the local KFC.
    “They paid their bills, never pissed anyone off, so no one thought about them much. They were just sort of there.
    “Agents did track down a couple of Lissy Smiley and Victor Nesser’s teachers. Only two teachers and a coach were in town. A lot of the teachers seemed to have escaped town for the summer. What a deal they’ve got.”
    Sherlock said, “Yeah, but in some places I bet they wish they had Kevlar vests.”
    Maitland said, “Forget I said that.”
    “Tell us about the other two robbers, sir,” Sherlock said.

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    “LIKE I TOLD YOU, the boobs carried their ID.” They heard rustling in the background. “Here we go. Jeff Wicky and Jay Fisher, they were imports from out West—Oregon, to be specific—longtime hoods for hire. The Salem field office sent agents to their former addresses, but there wasn’t anything to find except new tenants who hated the thin walls.
    “Wicky and Fisher got out of jail about the same time—six months ago—rented apartments in the same building in Salem for four months, then disappeared. They told the bartender at their favorite dive they were driving cross-country. To see all the beautiful scenery? The bartender didn’t think so, since they were badasses, but he wasn’t about to ask. We don’t know yet how they hooked up with Jennifer Smiley.”
    “I’ll wager Sean’s downsized orange basketball it’s more than just hooking up,” Savich said. “A family tie, some sort of connection, got to be.”
    “Or maybe a