Shea tried to holster her gun, then remembered she was in a dress. “What do you know that I don’t?”
“Yesterday we found a strong link between one of Cross’s bodyguards and Vincent Faulkner.” Brown stepped closer as Daley pulled himself to his feet and wiped off his knickerbockers.
Shea could feel heat rushing to her cheeks, but held her chin high.
SWAT escorted Cross and Smith from the room.
Brown continued, “Someone called me from your phone last night and got my name, then disconnected. I called you and Lee and Mrs. Rafferty, but we couldn’t get through, and the roads in here were impassable because of the rain.”
She pointed toward Hamilton. “It was him. He stole my phone and cut the land line.”
Daley stepped forward and extended his hand. “Patrick Daley, and you are?”
Brown shook it. “Sergeant Brown, Shea and Lee’s boss.”
“Strong grip.” Daley pulled his hand back, extending his fingers wide.
Shea faced Hamilton, suddenly conscious that he was dead and that she’d killed him. She wasn’t remorseful; he would’ve killed her, it was just that she’d never killed anyone before.
Brown stopped at her side, but she hardly noticed. Everything in the room became a blur. Everything but her and the body down the aisle, slunked against the altar with blood spatter on his shirt, and dripping out his mouth.
“What happened?” Brown’s voice sounded distant.
She clenched the gun in her hand, her free hand lifting to her Cross. “I killed him.”
With that she turned, her gaze falling on Daley. He stared at her without expression. She had to find Lee. Had to know he was all right. Looking down, she broke their connection and marched out of the chapel.
He followed.
Brown didn’t.
Chapter Thirty-One
Back at the house, several cops stood in the driveway where three armored trucks filled the space. Smith and Cross sat on the front steps, with several cops around them. Asher sat next to Smith with his arm draped about her shoulder. Those two were the only ones who seemed normal at the moment, the vehicles too surreal for this place with the deep tire tracks covering the muddy gravel drive. Mrs. Rafferty would not be happy about this.
Lee leaned against the side of one of the three armored trucks, with an ice pack against his head. He pulled away when he saw her coming.
Shea took a deep breath.
“See, he’s fine,” Daley said.
She smiled a little at the look of worry on Lee’s face, stoicism temporarily gone. Then stopped next to him by the truck.
“Everyone’s fine,” Shea said. “I’m sure they’ll be bringing Cross round anytime.”
“Hamilton?” Lee’s gaze flicked from her to Daley and back.
“Dead.” The weight of the gun in her hand felt suddenly heavy. She reached over the bed of the truck and set it down. “Brown’s taking care of the rest.”
“And you?” Lee asked.
“I’m fine,” she said and meant it. “But what about you? How’s the head?”
“I’ll survive."
Glancing around, she placed her hands on her hips. “Do we know what happened to the rogue bodyguard?”
“They took him into custody last night,” Lee said.
What a relief. There’d been a looming threat at the back of her mind about the traitor and where he was since last night. One of them had to of told Hamilton she was the cop. For some reason, it was nice to know that she hadn’t needed to worry about him after all.
“Here they come.” Lee stared over her shoulder.
Down the path came Brown and the SWAT team. This was it; Shea realized, her throat tightening. The case was over, and she could finally leave. One week here had felt like a lifetime, but now that it was over she felt strangely… regretful.
Daley grabbed her arm and pulled her aside. “We need to talk.”
She shook her head. “Now’s not the best time.”
“I have something important to tell you,” he said.
A lump formed in her throat. She was pretty sure she’d hit her shock limit for the day, and couldn’t handle the thought of anything else. “I have work to do.”
“Please.” He took her shoulders in his hands.
“Detective Shea,” Brown called when he reached the driveway.
She glanced over as the group trudged closer. “Let me deal with this. You go inside, and I’ll find you when we’re done.”
His jaw tightened as did his grip on her arms.
“That’s my boss over there.” She avoided his eyes. “And my charge. I’m sure we’ll be here for awhile, and I’ll come find you when we’re done.”
“Okay,” he said.
She glanced up, and he smiled at her. It made her heart flutter, and she couldn’t help but smile back. He let her go and trudged around the trucks and up the steps to the house.
“Detective,” Brown snapped.
She made her way over.
“Who is that guy?” Brown asked.
“One of the actors.” She rolled a pebble under her shoe.
He headed to the steps with her and Lee in toe. “Come on.”
They stopped in front of Cross as the cop dabbed a red spot on her forehead with an alcohol swab, then placed a band-aid on it.
“Band-aid,” Shea said.
“What?” Smith asked.
“I can call it a band-aid now, instead of a plaster,” she explained. It felt liberating. Sure, they were still at Bristle Park, but she didn’t care. She was so over the rules. At least for now.
Cross smiled at her. “Thank you for saving me.”
“It’s time you filled me in,” Brown said.
“Sergeant Brown, I’d like for you to meet Savannah Cross, Brian Peltier’s ex-girlfriend.” Shea turned from Brown and faced Cross. “I’m going to be needing that flash drive now.”
Cross leaned back. “My thumb drive? From Brian?”
She sucked in a breath, her eyes flitting to Lee and back. “I’m sorry, Savannah,” Shea said, “but I have some bad news.”
It took Lee and Shea a half hour to explain everything that had happened in detail to Brown from Peltier’s connection to Cross all the way down to the two bodies still in the mansion. Brown’s face had gone through a wide spectrum of different shades of red as they’d spoken. When they’d finished, his color had returned to normal, but he stood silently deciding what to do.
“Has she seen what’s on the flash drive?”
“No,” Shea said, “she told me so herself.”
“Does it matter?” Lee asked. “Vincent Faulkner knows she has it and knows that whatever is on it is detrimental to him. That’s why he tried to have her killed.”
Brown ran a hand over his bald head. “I agree. We're taking her to a safe house until the trial is over. The FBI arranged it.”
Shea fisted her hand. “I want to go with her.”
“Out of the question,” Brown said.
“I’m going too,” Lee jumped in.
“No; you two are officially off this case.”
Shea stepped forward. “With all due respect, boss, no we’re not. We just risked our lives protecting this woman.”
Just then two officers came out of the house, escorting a cuffed Hamilton toward one of the trucks.
Lee crossed his arms at her side and nodded.
“We brought you information that is likely to put a sociopath in prison, and we both nearly got killed. We’ve earned the right to see this case through.” She lifted her chin.
Brown stared her down.
She took a deep breath and pushed her shoulders back. She wasn’t standing down. “We’ve spent the last two years working harder than anyone else in the department and after this,” she signaled to the house, “we’ve more than proven ourselves. I’m not going to be stuck in the bottom feeder’s pile my whole life. If you can’t see our value, then I no longer have a place in your department.”
/> Brown stared at his shoes and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Fine.”
She and Lee exchanged quick smiles.
Brown pushed through them. “Don’t get too happy yet; the safe house train leaves now.”
Lee followed.
“Now?” She’s gaze flicked toward the house. She hadn’t talked to Daley yet.
Brown faced her and lifted his hands. “You have something better to do?”
She shook her head. “I just, I thought we’d be here awhile.”
“You thought wrong,” he said. “The sooner we get Smith out of here, the better.”
Shea glanced up at the house. If she left now, she might never see Daley again. Her stomach flipped. If she stayed everything she’d worked for would be washed down the drain. And there were only two things she knew about the real Daley: that he was an actor and that he liked her. Was that enough to risk her career?
A truck fired up behind her.
The rain had washed away a lot of dust from the mansion she hadn’t realized had been there. In the light of midday, Shea thought it’d never appeared more beautiful. She stepped back. This was how it was supposed to be. It’s how it would’ve been for Cross and Smith had killers not interrupted their vacations. A wish come true.
Shea had never had that expectation. She’d never expected to leave this place with happy sentiments of time and money well spent. It seemed somewhat ironic that in the end, she was probably the only one who’d be leaving this place with happy memories.
“Are you coming or not?” Brown called.
“Yes, sir.” She spun on her heel and went to the truck. She allowed Brown to give her a hand up and she slid in next to Cross. Lee sat up front next to the driver.
Cross took her hand. “I’m so glad you’re staying with me. I couldn’t handle strangers.”
“I’ll bring your car back to Sacramento,” Brown said and shut her door.
As the car bounced down the dirt road toward the river, Shea glanced back.
Daley and Mr. Rafferty stood on the front steps of the mansion. Rafferty’s bandaged arm was at his side, but his other arm was gesturing wildly as he argued with Brown. But her gaze locked on Daley, standing silently with his hands in pockets, watching her go.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Four Months Later
Sitting on the witness stand, Shea kept her eyes firmly on the DA, avoiding the stares of the crowd. She’d never been a huge fan of this part of detective work. It always made her feel like she was in a fishbowl, everyone’s gazes on her as she circled the tank. Today was worse than normal, because of the reporters. A string of them lined the back of the courtroom, holding cameras, and video equipment.
The DA stood back from her a few feet. “We have the phone records that prove that Savannah Cross’s bodyguard, Jason Stilts was, in fact, working with Vincent Faulkner, but in your report, you claim that Raymond Hamilton was as well. Though, there is no mention of any such confession in Detective Lee’s file. How can you account for that?”
“Detective Lee wasn’t with me when Hamilton made the confession,” Shea said.
“Where was he?”
“He’d been injured, knocked unconscious back in the mansion when I went after Hamilton.”
“How did you get Hamilton to confess?”
Her hands were sweaty. “I didn’t. After kidnapping Miss, uh, Savannah Cross and Constance Smith, he made the confession to them. I overheard it when I went in pursuit.”
“Do you know why Hamilton was involved? What his part was?”
“Both Stilts and Bayliss are refusing to cooperate with police. We do know that they tried to kill Miss Cross and that they were looking for a flash drive in her possession.”
The DA walked back to his desk and lifted a plastic baggy with a small blue flash drive in it. “Is this the flash drive?”
Shea nodded. “I believe so.”
“Why did they want the flash drive?” The DA’s voice held barely concealed excitement.
“There is a detailed record of three of Victor Faulkner’s victims from a single client. It included encoded emails, bank statements, business records, and requests for how the murders were to be done.” A month later and she still got goose bumps talking about it. Even Brown had said it’d been the most comprehensive murder log he’d ever seen. And it only had one client and three murders. Only Faulkner could tell how many people he’d actually killed over the years.
“How do we know this information is real?”
“At first we didn’t. With no actual documents, it took us awhile to track down all the numbers and bank accounts, etc.”
“How did Brian Peltier come across this information?”
“A few months ago, Peltier witnessed the murder of a good friend, a man by the name of Eric Spencer. The FBI tells us that the flash drive was given to him by the murder victim. They’d be better able to explain the details of that aspect of the case than I.”
“Who was Eric Spencer?”
“An employee in the governor’s office.”
A spattering of muffled chatter arose from the back of the room.
The judge brought down her gavel. “If you cannot remain silent, you will be asked to leave my courtroom.”
The DA nodded to the judge. “Thank you.” He faced Shea again. “Why is this relevant that he worked in the governor’s office?”
This was it, the reason the reporters were here. In just a minute her words would bring a hail of crap down on the State of California. “The information came from a personal computer in the State Capitol.”
“Whose computer?”
She took a deep breath. “Governor Andrew Boggs.”
Sticking his hands in his pockets, the DA slid forward. “That’s a big accusation, Detective Shea.”
“It’s only an accusation if there’s no proof. We have proof.”
Pushing through the reporters, Shea made her way outside. She ignored the questions being thrown at her, numbed by the constant badgering over the last week. She could only answer the question, “Is it true you solved this case in petticoats?” so many times.
The sunny California day did nothing to buoy her up. Evidence or not, they had a fight ahead of them. Walking through the park in front of the Sacramento courthouse, she made her way to the street where Lee waited in his car.
Cross sat in the back seat; her hair was pulled into a twist, and a big fabric flower held it pinned down. She wore a short, tight black leather skirt and KISS t-shirt. She waved when she saw Shea.
Shea smiled and got in the front seat.
Cross hugged her from behind. “You were brilliant in there.”
Shea patted her hand. “Thanks… you saw it?”
Lee lifted his cell phone. “Watched it live.”
“Brian was lucky to have you both on his case.” Cross said seriously, then as though she realized how serious she’d gotten, she smiled and clasped her hands on the shoulder of Lee’s seat. “You’re going to be famous.”
Shea scrunched her nose. “Great. That’s just what I need.”
“Well, not forever,” Cross was quick to amend. “I’m sure it’ll all blow over in a few months.”
Lee stared through the front window. “Or years.”
Shea groaned. “I’m moving.”
“No, you’re not,” Lee said. “If you did I’d get a new partner and I like the one I have.”
Shea shook her head, but felt a warm glow around her heart.
Cross squealed and kissed Lee on the cheek. “Isn’t he the sweetest? He’s the sweetest. Yes, we must keep my two guardian angels together. I didn’t move from Los Angeles to Sacramento for nothing. You’re staying. Now if only we could find you a man, we could really tie you down.” She sanded her hands together. “Like Mr. Daley?”
Despite the small pang she felt every time Daley’s name came up, Shea stayed expressionless. “How many times do I have to tell you? He was pretending to like me.” Shea ignored the look Lee gave her,
grateful as always that he kept his opinion to himself. “As far as I see it the only people who had any shot of coming out of that place were you two.”
Lee turned the car on and faced Cross. “Seat belt.”
Cross pouted, but slid back in her seat and did as he asked. “Ah, nope. That’s not true. Asher was an actor too, and he and Constance are a couple now.”
The idea of Smith and Asher together made Shea happy.
“As a matter of fact,” Cross continued, “they asked us on a double date for tomorrow night.”
“Drop it,” Shea said.
“Fine, but at some point, you’re going to have to get a boyfriend because I want us to go on double dates with you too, and those are almost always more fun with four people.” There was a mocking smile in Cross’s tone.
Lee grinned, the dimple that she hadn’t know existed until he’d started dating Cross popped out on his right cheek.
Shea smacked his arm. “Stop encouraging her.”
He put on his sunglasses and pulled into traffic.
Chapter Thirty-Three
When Shea and Lee walked into their office, they found Brown by Shea’s desk. His arms were crossed, his muscles tense. “Saw you on the news; you did well.”
“Thank you.” Shea removed her blazer as Lee took his seat at the desk across from hers. “What’s up, Boss?”
“The FBI is giving their testimonies tomorrow.”
She pulled out her chair but didn’t sit. She’d known that. And she imagined that shortly after the governor would be under arrest. “That’s good, right?”
“Two of their agents are here to see you.” He nodded toward his office. “They’re waiting.”
“What do they want?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know.”
She pushed her chair in and glanced at Lee. When she came around their desks, she stopped by his as he stood to go with her.
“Shea only,” Brown said.
Shea pointed to herself. “Me? Why?”
“I have guesses.” He fisted his hand at his side.
She glanced at Lee.
He gave her a blank expression and sat back down.
Regencyland- The Bristle Park Murders Page 20
