by Lynn Faye
“I should. We store them on a hard drive. All I need to do is bring up the date,” the man replied. “Follow me please.”
Morris followed him to a back room. A younger man came out and went to man the front while the store owner searched for the footage.
“Here it is. Why don’t I just make you a copy of this?’
Morris looked at the screen and grinned. “That’d be great.”
When they left the store, Agent Morris was convinced that something was fishy. Either Camila sent someone to purchase the phone or she was being set up as her friend claimed.
“Where are we heading now?” Bale asked.
“The bank.”
Not ten minutes later, they were ushered into the bank manager’s office. The manager agreed to let them see the security footage of the time of the transaction when Camila supposedly transferred the money to Newman.
The recording showed the cashier who dealt with the transaction and the same woman as on the other footage from the cell phone store. And it apparently wasn’t Camila, which meant that this woman must have had a fake ID, which again wasn’t good news.
Satisfied that he’d followed his gut, Agent Morris returned to the office determined to solve this riddle. Next, he needed to find the woman on the video tape.
Chapter 32
“Is this the woman you colluded with?” Morris slapped the photo of Camila on the desk in the interview room.
Sitting across the table with a smug look on his face was Matthew Newman. The man had remained silent and asked for his lawyer when Morris started asking questions. If there was one thing Morris hated, it was to be made a fool.
“I won’t say anything without my lawyer,” Newman repeated.
“Very well, he’s on his way. We’ll resume when he has arrived.”
Agent Morris stood. As he was about to depart the room, the door opened and a suited individual with a silver briefcase entered. “I’m Jack Smart, Mr. Newman’s attorney.”
“I’ll give you a few minutes. Be back in a few,” Morris replied and slipped through the door.
He didn’t go far as he wanted to wrap this case up quickly. If Newman’s lawyer had any sense, he’d have his client come clean. Fifteen minutes later, he went back in. That was enough time, he figured as he pulled up the chair and sat.
“Are you ready to tell me what’s going on?” he demanded of Newman, however, his eyes were on the lawyer.
“My client would like a deal.”
Agent Morris wasn’t surprised. He had a feeling it would come to this. He looked from client to attorney and back. “I’d have to consult with the prosecutor on this, but I warn you, you’d better not be yanking my chain.”
“I’ll tell you who hired me if you give me a reduced sentence, but it wasn’t Camila Lopez.”
Newman’s attorney seemed displeased that he let that slip. Jack Smart leaned towards his client and spoke in a low tone, Newman’s face seemed troubled and his eyes darted to Morris.
“We’ll meet again soon,” Agent Morris saluted with a broad smile.
When he returned to the office, another man in a suit, one he knew well, accosted him. He rolled his eyes and made as if to return where he had come from.
“Morris, I know you saw me,” the man hollered.
Family was the last thing Morris needed at two in the afternoon. Coming towards him with a dangerous look in his eyes was his cousin, Mark Rickards. The big family reunion was last weekend and he completely forgot about it. He knew his cousin was there to give him hell.
Morris turned with a grimace towards the approaching figure. “Mark, what can I do for you?”
“You think I’m here to see you? I don’t care what you do. I’m here because of my client.”
“How is Aunt Marcy?”
“Mother is fine. It’s you who have to explain to her why you missed last weekend. As for me, I had to listen to Uncle Bob tell his fifty-year-old stories. You do this to me every year!”
“You could have told them you were working,” Morris stated with a suppressed grin.
Mark shrugged. “I didn’t want to let Mother down.”
Something Mark said came back to Morris. “Who is your client?”
“Camila Lopez.”
“Bizarre. I’m working her case.”
Mark frowned. “What do you mean by bizarre?”
“We know Camila never purchased that phone and she wasn’t the one to do the bank transfer to Newman. We just need to establish the identity of the woman.”
“So, you are saying that you know that my client is innocent?”
“Let’s not jump the gun just yet. She may be in collusion with someone else. We need to find the woman and sort this before I can release her.”
“What can I do to speed up the process?”
Morris ushered Mark over to his desk where he indicated he take a seat. “Tell, me how well do you know your client?”
“I just met her. Kristen Broderick is the one who asked that I represent her.”
Morris squinted at him. “The mother of the victim provides a lawyer to the suspect? Isn’t that a little strange?”
“Not when you both know your client is innocent.”
“Do you know anyone with a vendetta against your client?”
“Why?”
Morris rose. “I want to show you something.”
He led the way to the room where Charles was viewing several video clips. The tech looked up as they entered and went back to what he was doing.
“Any luck?” Morris asked Charles.
“Her face is clear on the electronic shop video. Here,” he replied as a face zoomed onto the screen.
“That’s Helen Broderick,” Mark announced. “What’s going on?”
“She’s the one who bought the phone and made the bank transfer.”
“I’m surprised she didn’t disguise herself or have someone else do it. She’s supposed to be smarter than that,” Mark remarked. “On the other hand, human beings do crazy things when their emotions take over. I’ve seen people do even more weird stuff.”
Morris puckered his brow. “You don’t seem surprised.”
“We knew she did it, we just didn’t know how.”
They went back to Morris’ desk where he asked Mark to tell him about Helen. Mark told him about the lawsuits against Kristen, but as far as what Camila told him, Morris needed to talk to her himself.
*
The conversation happened in the same interview room where Kristen had visited with her. Mark was present in the event that she needed to consult with her attorney. He learned that Helen assumed Camila’s son was her husband’s illegitimate child and was seeking to destroy her.
“So now we have motive and the means,” Morris said.
“Morris, this woman is dangerous,” Mark said. “She has the best attorneys. A single mistake will have her walking out of here a free agent. You must have something more than this.”
“Matt Newman is ready to plea, we’ll have his testimony.”
“You can also get her for attempted murder as well,” Mark told him. “We think she had Kristen’s car rigged.”
Morris turned to Camila, “Miss Lopez, can you hang in here a couple of days more?”
“Does that mean you believe me? Are you letting me go?”
Morris smiled. “Looks that way, but I need to investigate a little further before I can release you.”
“Will you arrest Helen?”
“If we find that she did this, she will be arrested.”
“The court date for the lawsuit is in two days, I wanted to be there,” Camila said.
Mark fingered his chin. “What if we get her right there in the courtroom?”
“Talk to me,” Morris said.
“She’ll be in court. She thinks Camila is behind bars. We have a countersuit where we plan to bring up Kristen’s accident. I can accuse her of the abduction since she’s suing Kristen for negligence.”
“What
are you planning?” Morris asked.
“Just leave everything to me. Make sure Camila and Newman show up at the courthouse.”
Morris didn’t know what he agreed to. He was a federal agent of the state, not a common detective involved in courtroom ploys. Mark was acting like Perry Mason, trying to get his suspect to confess in court. This drama was too much for a federal agent. However, he must admit he liked the drama.
Chapter 33
Kristen wrung her hands. Ethan hadn’t called in days, Camila was still in jail and she was going out of her mind. Her civil case date was the following morning and here she was at ten that night, unable to sleep.
Ethan promised that he’d wait until the courtroom to hear what she’d been keeping from everyone, but she wished she could have told him first.
A knock on her window made her jump. What could it be? She’d had the hickory tree trimmed so no branches were able to brush the window. There is was again. Annoyed with whatever was bothering her, Kristen stomped to the window to check that it was locked. As she parted the curtains, something hit the glass, like a small stone.
Perring into the dark, she made out a figure on the lawn. Her heart skipped a beat, wondering if a prowler in her yard. Should she call the police? Another hit on the glass made her grind her teeth together. The damn idiot was throwing pebbles.
“Who the hell throws pebbles at… Ethan?”
Kristen pushed the window open, letting a rush of cold air.
“You took long enough,” he complained.
“What are you doing?” she yelled at him.
“I’m coming up.”
“Where are your keys?”
He didn’t answer but started climbing the hickory. A gasp escaped her lips as she watched him nimbly reach up and swing his legs onto a branch. When he was near the window, he swung his legs again and flew through the window. Kristen had to move out of the way.
“Are you crazy? You think you’re a ninja or something?” she shrieked.
In response, Ethan grabbed her and pulled her roughly to him. “You ask too many questions,” he murmured. “I thought we’d pretend we’re in high school.”
“What’s with you sneaking into…?”
Before she could finish her question, he crushed her lips with his, while tightening his arms around her. His hard chest crushed her breasts as his tongue twined around hers. A tremor ran through her from the thrill of his caress.
With a groan of pleasure, she began unbuttoning his shirt. This was going to be quick, she realized. After all, her ‘boyfriend’ had snuck in and didn’t want to be caught. Admittedly, playing this game made her pulse rate and her body wanton.
With lips still sealed, they frantically peeled off their clothes, tossing them away without caution. He tore his lips away from hers to plant hot kisses along her neck. While he left a trail of fire on her skin she explored the plains of his chest, liking the feel of his muscles beneath her hand.
Right there at the window, ignoring the bed, Ethan spun her around and bent her over. Kristen pushed her ass up to his groin where she felt his cock brush her backside. With one smooth move, he slipped into her slippery slope.
He began pumping her from behind while she fiddled her clitoris with her index finger. Each stroke of his shaft sent a ripple of current through her. Her orgasm was swift and explosive. As her walls closed her around him and cried out in pleasure, he pumped harder. His strokes began short and swift as he swelled, filling her to the hilt. His fingers dug into her hips as he rammed his hips up against her ass. A deep rumbling sound erupted from him as his release came.
“Mommy?” a voice came through the door. “Mommy, I’m scared.”
“I’m coming, honey,” Kristen answered.
She could barely breathe as she grabbed her robe and slipped into it. Quickly Ethan grabbed his clothes and disappeared through the window. Kristen rolled her eyes, as he seemed to be taking this game of his too far. She closed the window, trotted to the door and opened it.
“What took you so long Mommy?” Hailey inquired.
Kristen’s cheeks stained scarlet. “Nothing honey. What’s the matter?”
“I couldn’t sleep and I got scared. Can I stay with you tonight?”
She pulled her daughter into her arms. “Of course, baby. Now get into bed. Mommy has to use the bathroom.”
As Hailey got under the covers, Kristen worried about Ethan. The man was brave, and she knew he could handle himself, but his antics were making her worry.
*
The cold air bit into her face as she pulled open the front door. Her keys in hand, she stepped onto the portico and was about to close the door when a messenger rode up on a motorcycle. He killed the motor and removed his helmet.
“Good morning Ma’am, Are you Kristen Broderick?”
“Yes.”
“I have a letter for you,” he said.
Kristen groaned. She’d grown accustomed to receiving bad news through this method. For a few seconds, she stared at the outstretched hand holding a white envelope. Peering closer, her heart leaped at the sight of Andrew’s handwriting.
She snatched the envelope and stared at the neat handwriting of her name. Andrew’s penmanship was beautiful. He loved writing by hand and she often stared at the notes he made for the beautiful calligraphy.
“Where did you get this?”
“Someone asked me to deliver it. He said it should have been delivered four months ago, but he mislaid it. He apologizes.”
“Who is this ‘he’ you’re talking about?”
“I’m sorry ma’am, he asked not to disclose his name. Just that I should let you know that Andrew wanted you to have it.”
“Thank you.”
The man got back on his motorcycle, clamped his helmet on and rode out. Kristen was tempted to read the letter right there, but she was running late to get to the courthouse. She dropped the envelope in her handbag and got into her car. Twenty minutes later she was pulling into a parking space beside the courthouse.
Kristen pulled her coat around her from the chilly fall air as she slid out of her car. Rain had fallen in the early morning leaving the streets damp and the atmosphere cold. She made her way up the courthouse steps, running through her mind all that Mark had told her.
They were going on the offensive to finally get Helen off her back. Ethan hadn’t disclosed what he discovered at the house, but Mark made it seem that he’d found some evidence that was of use.
Mark met her inside the building. “Just in time,” he remarked.
Glancing at her watch, she noticed that she had two minutes to spare. “The roads are wet, I had to drive slowly.”
“Let’s go.”
He led the way into the courtroom where the case number was already called. It seemed as though it was the same room where Helen tried to take her daughter.
Already inside and sitting beside her lawyer was Helen. The woman’s smug look told Kristen she believed she was going to win. Not on your life, Helen, Kristen told herself.
Two rows behind Helen sat Ethan. When their eyes met, he gave her a wink. She blushed, remembering their little rendezvous the night before. He smiled as though he too remembered.
The jury, which was previously selected by both attorneys, was watching. Kristen felt stripped and naked before them. Today and the coming days of this fiasco, she would be stripped bare of her dignity. Her marriage would be exposed for the world to judge, not only her but also her husband.
Remembering the letter delivered to her that morning, she dug into her bag and retrieved it. As soon as she pulled the sheet of paper from the envelope the bailiff’s loud voice echoed in the room.
“All rise!” the court bailiff called.
Everyone stood. The last person Kristen expected was to see was Judge Lorde. She groaned as she sat back down and scowled at Mark. She nudged her attorney. “Why didn’t you tell me he was the presiding judge?”
“I figured that if you didn’t know, you wou
ldn’t panic. This might work in our favor, relax.”
Kristen had no time to question what he meant as the judge began speaking. “I see we are back here,” he said, perusing the file before him.
“Mrs. Broderick,” Judge Lorde settled his eyes on Helen. “You’re bringing a case of negligence as well as a case for wrongful death against your daughter-in-law?”
Helen’s attorney stood. “That is correct Your Honor. We are first presenting the case for wrongful death, your honor.”
“Proceed.”
Mr. Brown cleared his throat. “Your Honor. We will show the court that Kristen Broderick contributed to the early death of her husband by having an affair with his brother.”
Kristen snorted. “Affair my ass. How the hell will they prove that?”
Mark leaned close to her ear. “They are just blowing smoke because you married Ethan,” he whispered. When he saw the letter she held in her hand, he asked. “What’s that?”
“A letter from Andrew. Someone delivered it this morning. Apparently, he left it with them to give to me.”
Mr. Brown was speaking and all eyes turned to him. “Your Honor, the defendant met Ethan Broderick before Andrew Broderick as she once declared right here in this very courtroom. Ethan was disinherited from his parents and did not have any money, so the defendant broke up with him and married his brother instead.”
Kristen glanced at Ethan whose face appeared grave. She wondered if he believed the crap Mr. Brown was spewing.
The lawyer continued his diatribe. “Helen Broderick, a model citizen of the city and the mother of both men, will testify to the depressed state her son was in at the time of his death and the month leading to his untimely demise.”
“Do you have any evidence to back up your claims Mr. Brown?” the judge asked.
“We’ll call Kristen Broderick to the stand your honor,” Mr. Brown replied. “She will corroborate what I just said.”
“Very well,” the judge said.
Kristen was confused. “Can he do that?”
“Yes, it’s not uncommon,” Mark told her, before rising to his feet. “Your Honor, this is highly unusual to call the defendant as a witness.”
Judge Lorde waved his hand. “Have a seat, Mr. Rickards. I will allow it.”
