A Grave Prediction
Page 28
Mrs. Clawson hugged her daughter, but she looked very pained. I felt for her. But I didn’t feel for Ivy.
I said, “See, the part of that which is hard for me to swallow, Ivy, is that you guys didn’t give up your share of the money. If it was truly just for Emma, then none of you would’ve taken your split.”
The sobs coming from Ivy halted abruptly. She knew she was trapped by her own greed.
Mrs. Clawson was also looking at me as if she was suddenly aware of just how bad this all was. She started to open her mouth—I suspected to tell us she was getting her daughter a lawyer—and I made sure to speak again before she had a chance to get that out.
“I think you’re in a great position here, Ivy. I think you’re in the position to help yourself first, and your friends second. If you confess . . . everything and tell us where the money is, and tell us every detail of the robberies themselves, then we can recommend that the federal prosecutor will ask for the minimum sentence. If you decide not to talk to us, not to confess, then we’ll gather all the considerable evidence I’m quite sure you and your friends have accumulated, and make our case in court. We’ll prove that you robbed the banks not out of any sort of empathy for your friend, but out of pure greed. And I doubt you’ll get out of jail in time to celebrate your fiftieth birthday.”
Ivy’s jaw dropped. So did her mother’s.
I stood up and nodded at Kelsey, then turned back to them. “The choice is up to you. But I’m going to head into the next room, where your friend Valerie Sampson is sitting, and I’m going to offer her the same deal. If she confesses before you do, then she’ll get the lighter sentence.”
I then turned and began to walk to the door. “Wait!” I heard both Ivy and her mother say. “I’ll confess,” Ivy cried. “I’ll confess!”
Chapter Seventeen
• • •
Ivy wrote out a full confession, which took a good hour and a half. Kelsey pressed her for as much detail as possible, and once she was done, warrants were issued for all four of the girls’ homes.
It took surprisingly little time to amass a team of agents and local law enforcement big enough to search all the homes. They started with Ivy’s residence and moved on to Emma’s, Valerie’s, and Melanie’s.
They found more than enough evidence, and all of the money, which was hidden in each of the girls’ rooms.
There was also one additional piece of evidence that got reported back to us around midnight, and what was even more curious was that it came just about the time that Candice—who’d disappeared to God knows where—showed up back at the bureau offices.
“Where have you been?” I demanded. I’d texted her, but had only gotten back a text saying that she was tied up with something and she’d be back soon.
“Taking care of business,” she said with a wink.
I didn’t know what she meant by that until Kelsey came over to where we were sitting and said that one of the detectives assisting with the investigation had discovered a kilo of heroin jammed into the back of Trace’s closet. Kelsey said they discovered the drugs easily, as they reeked of gasoline.
“Trace is a drug dealer?” Candice asked, all innocent-like.
Kelsey shrugged. “If he is, he’s a bad one,” she said. “We didn’t find any drug money, but maybe he was still trying to figure out how to unload the ruined drugs. Even if he couldn’t sell them, it doesn’t matter. He was in possession of a kilo of smack, and we’ll throw the book at him.”
“Huh,” I said. “How much time is he looking at?”
Kelsey pursed her lips. “The minimum sentence is twenty years for a quantity far less than what we found. He could get life if the judge decides to be a hard-ass.”
“Even if Trace is a minor?” I pressed. I wanted that little bastard to spend the rest of his life behind bars, where he couldn’t hurt any innocent young person ever again.
“Oh, we’ll try him as an adult. I’ll make sure of it,” Kelsey said with a determined look in her eye. I knew she too was thinking of Trevor.
“Perez is in with Trace and his mother now,” Kelsey said next. “He’s not admitting to anything, but Perez is grilling him hard about Trevor’s disappearance and the drugs. Our tech says that he thinks a few of the execution videos we also found on the kid’s hard drive might make a good case for Trace heading down the road to radicalization. We plan to file multiple charges.”
Next to me, Candice wore a satisfied smirk. I knew I should’ve been upset that she’d obviously planted the drugs in Trace’s closet to frame him for a crime he hadn’t committed. But I wasn’t at all upset with her. In fact, I wanted to hug her for thinking of it and getting a psychopath off the streets. I wondered what she’d had to pay for that kilo, though. Candice was quite wealthy, but that didn’t mean that she had an endless supply of money to throw around. Maybe I’d give her all of the office pool money.
“Awesome,” I said to Kelsey as we wrapped it up.
She wiped a stray hair out of her eyes. It’d been a long day for her as well. “Oh, and, Abby, Rivera would like me to extend a formal invitation to conduct some of your intuitive training classes here. He says if you’re willing to stay until Friday, he’ll throw in a little extra money for your hourly rate, and make sure that everyone under his command attends.”
“Huh,” I said, surprised for a second time. “Sure,” I said. “Tell him I’d be happy to.”
“Great,” Kelsey said. “I was hoping you’d say that. Okay, I gotta get back. The girls will need to be booked and processed, and I’m going to oversee it to make sure they’re handled with as much care as possible.”
We waved good-bye to Kelsey before turning to leave, and as we headed out of the building, I bumped shoulders with Candice and said, “You know what, Candice?”
“What?”
“You can be my Huckleberry any day.”
“For sure, Sundance. For sure.”
Epilogue
• • •
Candice and I stayed the week and split the betting pool money. I tried to give it all to her, hinting that I knew she’d invested in the tainted heroin from Flower’s drug-dealing client, but Candice insisted that she’d gotten a very good deal. “Trust me,” she’d said. “He was happy to unload it.”
Anyway, it went a long way to relieve the stress of teaching a bunch of field agents a new skill they couldn’t always identify as “real.” Still, no one was more surprised to discover he was an absolute natural than Agent Rivera. That man could do readings for a living, given his test results.
And yet he wasn’t even my most dedicated student. No, that title would belong to Agent Perez, who’d actually turned out to be a really decent guy. I found his attention and thoughtful questions during my lectures to be a refreshing revelation.
I’m sure you’re surprised that my most dedicated student wasn’t Agent Hart, though, huh? Well, she had reason to be a little distracted. Whitacre had chosen her to be the new special agent in charge for the Phoenix bureau office. She’d have to fill some pretty big shoes after the loss of SAIC Barlow, but I had no doubt she was up to the job.
On my last day in L.A. she even approached me about going to Arizona to teach her new agents a thing or two. I told her we’d see.
One more funny note about the boys from L.A.—I heard that shortly after we left, Agent Robinson resigned. He showed up a few months later in some new Netflix series as a supporting character in an FBI drama. He played the brooding field agent, a part my experience with him suggested he was born to play. (I knew those movie-star good looks would be put to better use someday.)
As for the Edwardses, well, that whole family was indicted. Mrs. Edwards confessed that she’d been the one to find the ninja outfit hidden in their garage, and had suspected that one of their children might’ve been involved with the robbery cases. Mr. Edwards had assured her that he’d take care of it,
which he did only after we paid him a visit, so both of them were charged with obstruction.
Trace was indicted on multiple charges, and last I heard, the prosecutor was pushing hard to have him tried as an adult. Last I checked the ether, Trace was going to be in jail for a long, long time, so I was certain that was a battle we’d win.
Emma and her pals ended up getting fifteen years apiece. They’d be in their early thirties when they got out, and I felt bad for them on the one hand, but not so bad on the other. Mostly I was sad at all that lost potential.
Meanwhile, Candice and I planned a vacation to Bermuda together with our winnings. Feeling charitable, we even allowed our hubbies to come along. I mean, a girl needs someone to help her put sunscreen on those hard-to-reach places, after all. . . . (Wink.)
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