The Eightfold Fence Ch. 02

The chronological order of my stories is as follows:
Todd I strongly suspected she had been armed.
"Very possible." Jack said. "Or she heads back to the town, someone waves her down, then either asks or makes her go back along this way. "Bonnie, anything you can tell us?"
"No sir." said Bonnie. "I'll research and see if there have been any other killings up here and if there are any similar patterns. But serial killers tend to leave some sort of sign of their work; they want us to know it's them. This looks to be pretty simple, clean, and by someone who does not care to be identified... and had no problem with his victim being quickly identified."
"Good points. Okay, you guys can clean this up." called out Jack Muscone. "Take the body all the way to the City for the autopsy. Impound the car, transport it to the City also..."
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Back at the Forestry Service building, I said "Have the Burkes and/or Cherie Ward been read their rights?"
"Not yet, they're just being treated as witnesses, so far." said one agent. "But we may arrest the blonde woman if she isn't more forthcoming with us. She didn't want to talk to us at all, then the other woman, the lawyer, intervened on her behalf."
I then asked to speak to Cherie alone. That got a bunch of protests from FBI agents. Jeanine had told Cherie to trust me, so that wasn't the issue, but other agents weren't having any of it.
"What are you going to ask her?" one agent thundered. Another said "I want to be there to hear anything she says. She's not answering our questions, and I think we ought to arrest her."
"Guys, this is my case now." said Muscone, cutting off debate. "Don, you'll need to tell us what she tells you, but go ahead." That got an even more vociferous argument from the agents, some of who were being openly insubordinate as they bitterly said that Jack was out of order and they'd be taking it to a higher level. I'm not sure they realized just how high a level Jack (and myself, if need be) could take it.
Then one agent said to go ahead and let me, and I could see the crafty smile on his face. Knowing what was up his sleeve, I knew I was prepared.
Alone in the room with Cherie, I studied her. She was tall, nearly six feet, very beautiful with a mane of blonde hair, a toned, fit body with large breasts that had needed only some artificial enhancement, and smoking hot legs. Her face looked somewhat familiar to me; I'm sure I'd seen her more than once. She looked like a scared rabbit, though.
I turned on my device that would neutralize any bugs that were listening in, wishing I could see Mr. Crafty Agent's face when he got nothing from the bugs. "Cherie, I'm Commander Troy, consulting with the FBI on the death of your friend. I'm also related to your friend Todd, so I want you to trust me so I can protect you. You're more than just a call girl, aren't you?"
"Not really." she said, but her eyes welled up with more fear.
"Just between us and nobody else, you're a confidential informant for someone in the City, aren't you?" I asked. Cherie said nothing, but looked scared to death.
"And for... Captain Susan Wexler, if I don't miss my guess." I said. Cherie's eyes told me that I was right, even though she said nothing. But then I realized that there was something else. And then I realized where I knew her from. The night of Senator Nathan Allen's oh-so-unfortunate heart attack and death. I decided not to pursue this any further.