Chapter 20
(Seattle, Washington, Wednesday afternoon, Oct. 1, 2013)
RODRIGUEZ WAS FURIOUS, but it was so contained it was like sitting next to a bomb. You knew it was going to explode, but you didn’t know when. You just wanted to make sure it wasn’t at you. Stan Warren could relate—he was unhappy too. They were still at the Fairchild house, but he was feeling like they needed to get out of there, and soon.
Someone had walked into the holding area at the police station and signed out Benjamin Ryan. The signature was unreadable, but it had to be a cop. Ryan was gone, and Rodriguez was now confronted with the fact that there were officers whose allegiance was suspect. It was one thing to guess that might be true—another thing to be slapped in the face with the reality of it. There were sur
