by Stacy Green
She stopped at the administration desk, which was larger than Abby’s bedroom. “I need to speak with Will Merritt.” With any luck, the lobbyist had gone to Capitol Hill. She’d rather wait outside the sessions to speak with him. The sooner she left Baker-Allen, the better.
“Do you have an appointment?” Margo Kepler stared at Erin with a blank expression.
Despite having worked the desk for more than a decade, Margo hadn’t recognized Erin. Or had simply forgotten her. It wouldn’t be the first time. Maybe this time it would work in her favor, and Lisa wouldn’t know of her arrival.
“We need to speak with him about an ongoing case.” She showed her badge, followed by the warrant. “And we need your security footage from yesterday—1:00 p.m. through 10:00 p.m.” The judge had played it surprisingly safe with their timeline, and Erin wasn’t complaining.
Margo called upstairs and requested Will Merritt to the lobby and then called the head of security to deal with the warrant. Erin could throw out her last name and simply walk in. But then she’d have to deal with Lisa. Only special people had full access to the top-level offices. People who appreciated the business. People who came from her father’s first marriage and therefore counted as his real child.
“Before we deal with this guy,” Erin turned to look up at Beckett, “how do you want to handle the pregnancy? I’m all for asking him point blank. It’s motive.”
“Agreed.” Beckett nodded, his eyes focused on something behind Erin.
A built man who would have been right at home in an Ultimate Fighting ring glided toward them. The badge on his navy suit read Head of Security. “John Booker. How can I help you?”
Erin gave him the warrant and explained what they wanted. “We need the raw footage. Time-stamped.”
Booker slowly perused the document. His gray hair shined like gossamer beneath the lobby’s bright lights. “Seems everything’s in order. Do you want to wait in your father’s office while I get it for you, Investigator Prince?”
So much for no one putting it together. “No, we’re interviewing Will Merritt.”
“I’ll make a copy and have it here at the front desk.” Booker smiled pleasantly, but Erin hedged. What if he screwed with the footage? She glanced at Beckett, debating on asking whether he’d like to accompany Booker. Instead she asked about Will Merritt’s security clearance.
“Low-level,” Booker said smoothly. “His card only gets him in the main entrance.”
Merritt trudged toward them looking far worse for wear than last night.
Booker excused himself, glancing sideways at Merritt on his way back to the security offices.
Will Merritt’s puffy eyes and wrinkled clothes made Erin wonder whether he’d slept at all. He hadn’t shaved, his jaw spotty with wiry peach fuzz.
He pulled on his already loose tie and unbuttoned his tailored suit jacket. “I’m not sure what else I can tell you.”
“Hello to you too.” Erin said, feeling the receptionist’s eyes on them. “Let’s go into one of the downstairs conference rooms.” She led the way down the east corridor and then waited for Will and Beckett to enter before closing the door.
Merritt pulled out a chair, its feet dragging across the sturdy Berber carpet. He didn’t wait for Erin, instead falling into the chair with a dramatic sigh. “I didn’t sleep. I keep seeing Bonnie lying there. All that blood.”
“Now that some of the initial shock has worn off, I want to confirm you didn’t go any farther than the top attic stair, did you?” Erin asked.
Merritt shook his head.
“But we’ll find your fingerprints in the house because you’ve been inside before. Including the bedroom. On say, the headboard.”
“I already told you,” Merritt’s defenses jacked up. “I’m sure you will.”
“But you maintain you’ve never been in the attic?”
“I’ve never been in the attic.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “Are we going to do this all over again?”
Erin sat down across from him. Beckett remained standing as usual. “So you didn’t know Bonnie liked to make sex videos?”
Merritt focused on his lap. “She wasn’t into that sort of thing.”
Erin rested her elbows on the table and clasped her hands. “But she was, because we found evidence of recording equipment in the attic, plus some other fun sex stuff. Someone took the recording device and the videos. Probably her killer.”
“So you think Bonnie filmed someone, and he got pissed off? He gutted her for that?” Once again, he directed his question to Beckett, either too irritated or too intimidated to speak directly to Erin.
He didn’t strike her as the sexually dominant type. Then again, the man she went out with three times didn’t strike her as a rapist, either.
“I think blackmail is a real possibility.” Erin leaned across the table, closing in on Merritt’s personal space. “There’s no way Bonnie could afford the house on her own, waiting tables. I think her parents knew this too. They didn’t want to think about it. So she had additional income.”
Merritt continued to shake his head, rocking slightly. “I can’t help you.”
“Were you helping her out financially?” Beckett asked. “You cared for her. There’s nothing wrong with someone in your financial position offering to help. But if you did, you need to tell us. Because if her financial records show big deposits in your name, you’ll be hearing from us again.”
“My financial position?” Merritt laughed. “I’m a second-year lobbyist. I can barely afford a lifestyle, let alone help someone else out.” His eyes slid to Erin. “My name isn’t Prince.”
She smiled. “I can’t help you there. And I’m not as tactful as my partner or as patient. Let’s just get down to it—I had it right last night, didn’t I? You got sick of the blackmail and killed her. Then you felt guilty and called it in.”
“Are you serious?” The veins in Merritt’s neck bulged. “I would never ... she didn’t film me. Or blackmail me. Bonnie was a nice girl!”
She believed him. But she wasn’t leaving without Merritt telling them everything. “Fine, but you’re lying about something. Bonnie didn’t work at Daniel’s. And you knew damn well I’d talk to the owner.”
He glared at her with red eyes. He did look as if he hadn’t slept. His skin had a grayness usually reserved for someone on his deathbed. Sorrow or guilt?
“We don’t think you killed her.” Beckett, the friend again. “But Investigator Prince is right. You’re hiding something. And you lied about her cousin Sarah. Her parents say the two of them haven’t spoken in years.” His poker face could have won him millions.
Merritt’s mouth formed an O and his brow furrowed. “They’re lying. They talked all the time.”
“Why would grieving parents lie about something like that?” Was Merritt aware of the family estrangement? He claimed he and Bonnie didn’t share deep thoughts. “Were there family issues?”
“I have no clue.” He spread his arms wide across the table. “She talked about Sarah a lot. ‘Sarah’s so busy with school, Sarah’s stressed. I need to call Sarah and check in on her.’”
“Did you know Bonnie was pregnant?” Erin’s laser focus on Merritt’s reaction sabotaged her attempt to soften her voice.
To his credit, Will Merritt was either innocent or one hell of an actor. The remaining color drained from his face. “I didn’t.” He stared ahead, not looking at Erin or Beckett. His chest jerked. “How far along?”
“Ten weeks,” she said. “We’ll need a DNA swab for paternity.”
Will Merritt immediately stiffened and straightened his tie. “It’s awful, but the baby can’t be mine. We used protection every time.”
“Condoms break.” Erin said. “And frankly, a baby is another motive for murder. I can’t see you being too thrilled about knocking up someone like Bonnie.”
“Stop talking about her like that,” Merritt snapped. “You might think you know me because you come from all of this,
” he swept his arms around, “but I grew up barely above the poverty line. Both my parents worked two jobs. My uncle died from alcohol. My not being serious with Bonnie had zero to do with where she lived or her past. It had to do with what both of us wanted.”
Erin refused to back down. “So you’re saying she cheated on you?”
His face heated, but his gaze dropped down. “I told you we weren’t exclusive.” His lower lip trembled, and wetness brimmed in his eyes.
Will Merritt wasn’t the one who didn’t want a serious relationship. Erin reached into her bag and retrieved a tissue from the wrinkled packet. “All right, you cared about her. More than you want to admit. Fine. And maybe you think not telling us everything you know is protecting Bonnie’s memory, but you’re hurting our chances of finding out who did this.”
Merritt’s throat tightened, the veins in his forehead bulging with the effort not to cry. “I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone. Her parents would be devastated.”
“They already are,” Erin said. “Not getting closure will only make their lives worse.” She glanced at Beckett out of the corner of her eye.
He nodded, and a foolish swell of pride rushed over Erin. Maybe she could do this job after all.
Merritt sagged down in the chair. “Bonnie was a stripper. Her parents don’t know. She didn’t want them to.”
“Did you meet her at a strip club? When?” Beckett asked.
“At Sid’s Gentleman’s Club. A lot of men from Capitol Hill go there.”
“For their nighttime meetings, right?” Erin asked dryly. “What would you call that? A power hard-on?”
Merritt ignored her. “It’s strictly dancing. There’s no hooking going on. Men paid Bonnie good money to dance. She never drank, never did drugs. She wasn’t breaking her probation.”
Erin jotted the name down. “Thank you. Did Bonnie tell you about being raped when she was fifteen?”
Merritt’s chin dropped to his chest. “Yeah.”
“Is that why she made the videos?”
Merritt’s head shot up. “I didn’t know about any videos at first. And when I found out, I couldn’t believe ... I told her she deserved better. The things she did ... the way she saw herself. It broke my heart.”
“How did Bonnie react when you tried to talk to her about it?” Beckett asked.
“She wouldn’t listen,” Merritt said. “She’d close up completely and then ask me to leave. So I kept my mouth shut.” Regret colored his tone.
Erin wanted to say something encouraging, but she could think of nothing to make the man feel better. “Is that why she had so many bruises on her arms and legs?”
Merritt nodded. “She told her parents she was taking a self-defense class. I asked to have sex with the lights off—every time I saw the bruises, all I could think about was her allowing someone to treat her that way.”
“Did Bonnie’s having sex with other men bother you?” Erin asked.
“She only did it for the money,” he said. “The way she saw herself bothered me. I thought things might get better ... and maybe she’d eventually change her mind.” His chin wobbled, the big muscles in his neck straining.
Erin pressed on. “Do you think that’s what she wanted to talk about when she called yesterday?”
“I have no idea,” Merritt said. “I couldn’t sleep last night, thinking about what she wanted to tell me. What if the killer were already there, and she needed my help?”
“I don’t think so.” The white lie wouldn’t hurt. Erin had no idea whether Bonnie had called Will Merritt for help, but he needed to hear he couldn’t have helped her. “Any idea who she made the videos with? Was her cousin Sarah involved?”
Merritt’s lips curled, his cheeks reddening. “No, and she never said anything about Sarah being involved. You need to ask her yourself.”
“We’re working on it,” Erin said. “Do you have any idea why Sarah wouldn’t call us back?”
Merritt shook his head. “Bonnie mentioned Sarah being under a ton of stress with her thesis. Maybe she’s not checking her voicemail.”
Except the story broke on the news this morning, and most people stayed glued to their phones these days. Erin kept the thought to herself and pulled the second warrant out of her bag. “I’m sorry to have to do this, but this is the warrant for us to take your DNA. You have twenty-four hours to go to the Criminal Investigations Division on M Street, and one of the forensics people will swab you.” She’d debated bringing the kit here and doing it herself, but she didn’t want any issue if things went to court.
Merritt’s fair skin turned green, but he nodded.
What would he do if the baby was his? It certainly wouldn’t help his case for innocence. “If the baby’s yours—”
“I don’t think it’s mine. But I want to know.”
His grief oozed out of every pore. Erin longed to give the young man his space, but she had one final question. “Were there any little girls in Bonnie’s life—or yours?”
His eyebrows drew together, exhaustion etched into his handsome face. “What? No. Only child.”
“What about anyone named Jane?” A long shot Erin had to take, but Merritt again shook his head no.
“Last question, I promise. Did Bonnie have any interest in history? Maybe criminal history? A lot of people like to read about serial killers and that sort of thing.”
Deep lines etched into Merritt’s forehead. “Not that I ever heard.”
“Thank you for being honest. Please call me if you remember anything else.”
The door swung open, and Erin’s heart dropped all the way to her toes, yanking her confidence with it. Lisa stood there, looking perfectly chic as usual. The black business suit accentuating her runner’s figure, cropped black hair framing her tanned face, and her bleached white teeth gleaming through a fake smile.
The daughter from Calvin Prince’s previous marriage represented everything Erin never managed to achieve. Slim and tall, with a dazzling smile and dark eyes, Lisa’s Italian heritage blessed her with the ability to tan, while Erin kept the sunscreen companies in business. Lisa embraced Calvin’s conservative values, while Erin and Brad constantly questioned them. Erin hadn’t been lying when she said she and her father got along. They did. But more like acquaintances. Lisa had taken everything else.
“I heard you were here interviewing one of my employees without my permission.” Lisa glanced at Beckett. “Is this your new partner?”
“Yes.” Erin refused to cower. “We’re here on a case. Will Merritt is a witness to a murder. I don’t need your permission to interview him.”
“This is a private company,” Lisa countered. “I have a right to know what’s going on behind closed doors, especially when it could affect our reputation.”
“There’s no threat to anyone’s reputation.” Erin felt suddenly protective of Will Merritt, who had turned meek in Lisa’s presence.
Lisa held up her smartphone. “He found his girlfriend gutted in Columbia Heights.” She glanced at Merritt. “Interesting company you keep, Mr. Merritt. I’d say the association could affect us. Nice picture by the way.”
Lisa held the phone out to Erin, but she refused to take it.
The salacious headline of Channel 4’s web article said enough. Slaughter on 16th Street. A bad picture of Dan Mitchell bringing Bonnie out in a black bag accompanied the headline along with a shot of Erin and Beckett standing on the porch. At least she’d been dressed nicely. But the photographer had taken the shot of her looking up at Beckett, an almost green expression on her face. Beckett, in turn, appeared to be the picture of calm. A professor assuring his student.
“Detective Beckett,” Lisa said. “Your résumé is quite impressive. I speak for the entire city when I say I hope your experience helps find this terrible person. Erin’s still new at this, so she’s certainly going to need your help.”
Lisa’s sweet smile made Erin want to punch her.
“It’s Investigator,” Beckett said. �
��And Erin’s doing fine. I’m still learning the ropes here. I didn’t get your name, however.”
Lisa brushed by Erin. “Lisa Prince, Executive Vice President of Information Systems and Global Solutions.”
She offered a beautifully manicured hand to Beckett. Lisa kept her fingernails impeccable. Erin didn’t have the patience or the time to get hers done.
“I’m sorry your first case,” she gave Erin a derisive look, “is such a nasty one. Mr. Merritt, I trust you’re not a suspect in this terrible tragedy?”
White-faced, Merritt’s head whipped back and forth like his neck muscles had become elastic. If Lisa saw him as a liability to Baker-Allen, she’d fire him without remorse.
“He’s a material witness, and he’s not required to tell you anything,” Erin said. “This is a sensitive investigation. If any of it gets out, it could damage the case. So,” Erin looked pointedly at Merritt, “the interview is confidential. Lisa, I’m sure you and Dad will understand.”
Lisa caught the underlying threat, her mouth ticking up in a sneer. “No need to worry.”
“Good.” Erin walked out the door thinking she’d love to find a way to charge Lisa with interfering in an investigation if she ran her mouth. “Merritt, we’ll see you later.”
“Around six,” Merritt said. He ducked his head and followed Erin out, mouthing a silent thank-you.
Her heart grew a tiny bit fond of him.
Beckett waited until Lisa sauntered ahead. “It was nice meeting you, but Erin and I need to get moving.”
“Of course,” Lisa said. “Erin, next time, call ahead. I’d love to catch up.”
Erin grumbled and stalked ahead, marching through the lobby.
Booker waited at the administration desk with a smile on his round, pasty face. “Here are your copies, Ms. Prince. You’ll see Will Merritt didn’t leave the building until nearly eight thirty last night.”
“Thank you.” She shoved open the heavy glass door and breathed in the wet air. Rain fell in a delicate mist. Its coolness did nothing for the anger pulsing through her.
“Wow.” Beckett turned up the collar of his coat. “You two really hate each other.”
