Julie’s tearful apologies were lost under the continuing tirade. Everyone else in the room had stopped what they were doing to watch avidly, and nobody seemed intent on intervening. To Levi’s surprise, Leila Rashid stood nearby with her arms crossed, looking bored.
“I’m so sorry, Diana,” Julie said, lifting her cuffed hands in a gesture of appeasement. “Please believe me, I never meant for you to get hurt—”
“But you were happy to stand by and keep your mouth shut while I was arrested for murder!”
“What the hell is going on?” Levi hissed at Rashid.
“It’s probably my fault,” she said, though she didn’t sound guilty in the slightest. “I called Kostas about dropping the charges, and when I told her why, she cursed up a storm and then hung up on me. I knew she would come here.”
“How?”
She snorted. “It’s what I would do.”
“How far were you planning to let this go, Julie?” said Kostas. She stood with her hands on her hips, her face flushed, her large dark eyes snapping with furious hurt. “Would you have said anything when the case went to trial? How about when I went to prison?”
A sob burst out of Julie. “That never would have happened! I knew you didn’t kill that guy, everything would have been fine!”
“Oh, you’re such a moron—”
Levi turned to see Martine and Northridge entering the bullpen. Kapoor and Warner followed a few seconds later, though they stopped in their tracks when they saw the showdown.
“I let you into my home,” Kostas said, breathing hard. “I trusted you with my son. And you were ready to throw me under the bus to protect yourself and your scumbag boyfriend.”
“Don’t talk about him like that!”
Kostas’s face twisted and her hand swung back. Levi started moving, but Rashid was faster—she darted forward and grabbed Kostas’s arm even as the uniformed officer yanked Julie out of reach.
“You’re in a police station,” said Rashid, her tone one of mild irritation. “Don’t be an idiot.”
Kostas didn’t move, her raised forearm still caught in Rashid’s grip. She glared daggers at Julie as her chest heaved with barely contained emotion.
The spectators all seemed to be holding their breath. Levi was sure that if they’d been anywhere else, half these people would have their phones out to record every moment.
Then Kostas’s shoulders relaxed, and she nodded. Rashid let go of her arm, but she didn’t move away. Julie and her escort both eyed Kostas warily.
“I hope you go to prison for a long time,” Kostas said. Her voice shook. “And when you get out, don’t ever come near me or my son again.”
She whirled around and stalked away with her head held high, leaving Julie breaking down in tears behind her. Her stride faltered as she passed Martine and the three doctors near the exit, a frown creasing her brow, and she glanced at them one more time over her shoulder as she left.
Rashid heaved a put-upon sigh. “I’ll go with her, make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.” When she walked by Levi, she smiled and added, “Why don’t you give me a call when you find the actual murderer?”
Levi scowled after her retreating back. The uniformed officer led a sobbing Julie away—in the opposite direction—and conversation and movement resumed around the bullpen as everyone returned to their previous activities. In less than a minute, the mood in the room had gone back to normal.
“That was some serious drama,” Martine said, joining him with Northridge in tow. Kapoor and Warner trailed behind.
“Can you blame her?”
“Who was that woman?” Warner asked.
“Our original suspect in Dr. Hensley’s death.” Turning to their newest suspect, Levi said, “I’ll arrange for you to contact a defense attorney.”
“I already have one on the way,” said Kapoor.
They settled Northridge in an interrogation room and showed Kapoor and Warner to a room where they could wait. Thanks no doubt to the two women’s combined wealth and influence, the attorney Kapoor had contacted arrived within half an hour.
Levi and Martine both groaned aloud when they saw Jay Sawyer. A member of Hatfield, Park, and McKenzie, a prestigious local law firm, he was genuinely one of the best defense attorneys in Las Vegas. He was also quite handsome in an old New England, came-over-on-the-Mayflower kind of way, but the real problem was that he knew how competent and good-looking he was, and it only fed his monstrous ego.
“Detective Valcourt, Detective Abrams,” Sawyer said, stopping by their desks. His voice deepened as he looked at Levi. “Always a pleasure.”
“For you, maybe,” Levi muttered. Sawyer was bisexual, and had never made a secret of how much he’d like to get Levi on his back.
Sawyer favored him with a slow, annoyingly attractive smile. “Would you mind showing me to my client?”
Shoving himself back from his desk with poor grace, Levi stood and gestured for Sawyer to follow him. Martine wrinkled her nose sympathetically as they passed.
Levi tried not to hate defense attorneys on principle. There were people who were falsely accused of crimes, and he truly believed that even the guilty deserved a strong defense. It was a necessary job. But nine years as a cop had ingrained the prejudice too deeply in him to root out.
Plus, Sawyer was just a dick.
Fortunately, they made it to the interrogation room before Sawyer’s innuendos could cross the line into harassment, which spared Levi the trouble of having to break his nose. He felt little relief as he left Sawyer with Northridge, though, because he knew he’d be called back in no time.
Sure enough, he was informed an hour later that they were ready to speak to him. After an unsuccessful attempt to convince Martine to do the interrogation instead—she couldn’t stand Sawyer—he returned to the room and sat at the table with his notepad at the ready.
“For the record,” Sawyer said, “I’ve advised my client not to say anything to you at all. But she insists on telling you ‘her side of the story.’”
Between Sawyer’s clear exasperation and Northridge’s set, determined face, Levi could imagine how long that argument had gone on. There was nothing predatory or flirtatious about Sawyer’s demeanor now—he was all business.
“Then let’s hear it,” said Levi.
Northridge took a deep breath and folded her hands on top of the table. “I’d wanted a divorce for some time; I’m sure you’re familiar enough with Stephen’s life by now to understand why. But Stephen refused to consent to one—not because he wanted to stay married, but simply to spite me. My family’s assets are considerable, including extensive property holdings throughout the Northeast, and in a messy, contested divorce, Stephen may have been able to lay claim to portions of them because we didn’t have a prenup.” Her mouth tilted wryly. “You can’t imagine how much I hate knowing my mother was right all those years ago.”
Levi nodded for her to continue.
“I knew Stephen was in the habit of hiring call girls on his business trips. Catching him in the act of infidelity—and committing a crime, no less—would have given me leverage to pressure him into accepting a clean divorce, or swayed the court in my favor if he remained obstinate.”
“You wanted to walk in on him in a compromising position with a sex worker?”
“Yes,” Northridge said, and then sighed. “I made discreet arrangements to fly into Las Vegas on Saturday night. But my first plane had mechanical problems, and I ended up on a different flight. I arrived in the city much later than I’d planned. I knew there was little chance Stephen was still with the woman he’d hired, but I was determined to confront him anyway. I couldn’t bear another day of our farce of a marriage.”
Sawyer made a displeased noise, and it was no surprise—Northridge had just spoken to her own motive for Hensley’s murder.
“What time did you arrive at the Mirage?” Levi asked.
“Around 2.30 a.m. I was worried someone from the conference might recogn
ize me and interfere, so I covered my face as best I could. I told the clerk at the front desk I was Stephen’s wife and I’d come to surprise him.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “I’d expected to have to do some convincing, but he was quick to accept a small bribe. In retrospect, that should have been a warning sign.”
Levi hummed agreement.
“I got a key card for Stephen’s room and went upstairs. The whole elevator ride, I was planning what I would say, how I would demand that we end things. I opened the door . . .” She gazed into the distance. Then she shook herself, leaned forward, and looked Levi right in the eye. “I swear to you, Detective, Stephen was already dead when I got there. He’d been dead for at least an hour. I didn’t kill him.”
He was reserving judgment on that for now. “What did you do then?” he said, keeping his tone neutral.
“I must have stood there frozen for a good five minutes. I was shocked, of course, and I didn’t know what to do. It took some time to process the fact that my husband was dead and I felt nothing.”
“God, Dr. Northridge, you’re killing me here,” Sawyer said with a pained expression.
She ignored him. “Once reality had sunk in, I realized the position I’d put myself in. Flying into the city without telling anyone, disguising myself, bribing a clerk for a key to the room—I knew it would look like I’d killed Stephen. So I ran. I thought there were probably security cameras in the elevators, so I took the stairs and left through a different exit. I went to a motel that accepted cash and didn’t require ID.”
Quick thinking, if it were true—not unexpected for a surgeon. “You were listed on the manifest for Flight 484 on Tuesday,” Levi said. “How did you manage that?”
Northridge opened her mouth, but Sawyer lifted a hand to cut her off. “Ah, ah,” he said. “No. The truth about this matter would implicate somebody my client cares for in a criminal act.”
Levi tapped his pen against the table, considering. “A violent one?”
“Not at all.”
Sawyer’s face was an impassive mask—Levi would never get the truth without some kind of deal. The guy was such an arrogant lothario that it was easy to forget he was actually good at his job.
“Give me a minute,” Levi said, pushing back his chair.
A couple of phone calls later, he had paperwork in hand to guarantee immunity to the person Northridge had drawn into her cover-up. Once everything was signed, Northridge said, “The first thing I did when I got to the motel was call my sister. I told her everything and asked her to fly to Las Vegas using my identity.”
“Are you twins?”
“No, but we look enough alike that with a wig and the right makeup, she could pass for the photo on my ID. I overnighted her my driver’s license, and she took the flight on Tuesday.”
Clever. “And how does Alan Walsh figure into this?” Levi asked. “We know he called your cell phone twice earlier this week.”
They didn’t actually know that, not for a fact, but who else would have been calling Northridge from a burner phone with a Las Vegas area code?
She sighed. “I spent all day Sunday worried that Mr. Walsh would tell the police he’d seen me. I didn’t think he would, because it would mean admitting he’d accepted a bribe for a room key, and he’d doubtlessly lose his job for that and perhaps even be considered an accomplice to the murder. So I hoped he’d just keep his mouth shut.”
“And instead?”
“Instead, he called me Sunday night and threatened to expose my presence in Las Vegas if I didn’t pay him off. I agreed to his terms and had my sister wire me the cash. Mr. Walsh and I met on Monday night at a diner near my motel, and I gave him what he’d asked for.”
The second call on Monday must have been to confirm the details of the meet-up, then. Levi looked at Sawyer’s pinched, sour expression. “I can’t believe you’re letting her tell me all this.”
“If you believe there’s any way I could stop her, I’d love to hear your thoughts on how,” he said.
“Gentlemen, please,” said Northridge. “I did things that were wrong, yes, but I didn’t kill my husband. I’m not afraid to take responsibility for my actions and accept the consequences, especially if it means I won’t be accused of a crime I didn’t commit.”
“You realize that by admitting that Walsh was blackmailing you, you’re telling me you had motive to kill him, too,” Levi said.
“That’s the thing.” She spread her hands. “I didn’t. I recorded both of my phone calls with Mr. Walsh, as well as our meeting on Monday. After the money had exchanged hands, I backed the recordings up to the Cloud and then played them for him. I had him on tape talking about how he blackmailed not only me, but other guests of the Mirage as well. I told him that if he ever tried to obtain more money from me, I’d bring the recordings to the police and take him down with me. Mutually assured destruction.”
Levi blinked.
“Mr. Walsh and I had an understanding. I didn’t mind giving him a one-time payout, and he accepted that it would end there. We parted on amicable terms. Then I read about his murder in the paper a couple of days later . . .” She swallowed hard, shaking her head. “Detective, Mr. Walsh told me that he knew I wasn’t the one who killed Stephen.”
Levi narrowed his eyes. “The only way he could know that is if he knew who the real killer was.”
“He did. And that person killed him for it.”
“Uh-huh. Any ideas who that person might be?”
She snorted. “If I knew, that would have been the first thing I told you.”
Levi was quiet for a few moments while he reviewed his dense notes. Then he exhaled one long breath and looked up. “This is a great story, Dr. Northridge. You account for everything, answer every doubt.” He flipped his notepad shut. “But let me tell you what this looks like from a law enforcement perspective. You have the strongest motivation to kill both Hensley and Walsh of anyone we’ve encountered. You went to extreme lengths to conceal your arrival and presence in Las Vegas. You bribed a hotel employee for access to the first crime scene, which by your own admission you then fled. The man who was blackmailing you turned up dead a few days later. You have the medical knowledge to measure out an overdose of Rohypnol and precisely target a man’s carotid artery. And while you may have an explanation for all of that, at the end of the day, you can’t prove any of it.”
“A jury will decide that,” Sawyer said.
“Yes, that is the way the legal system works, thank you,” Levi said. “You think a jury is going to buy a story this full of suspicious coincidences?”
Smirking, Sawyer said, “They will when I’m through with them.”
“Really.” Levi smiled. “Have you met Leila Rashid yet?”
Sawyer’s smirk faltered. “She’s the DDA on the case?”
Levi nodded. Sawyer’s lips thinned out, his eyes darkening, and Levi took some petty satisfaction at the crack in his composure.
“Well, we’ll have plenty of time to strategize once my client is released on bail.”
“Oh, come on,” said Levi, taken aback by the depth of Sawyer’s confidence. “A judge isn’t going to set bail for a wealthy tourist charged with a high-profile murder. She’s got flight risk written all over her.”
“We’ll see about that. Alternatively, you could find the actual killer and spare us all the trouble.”
“I think we’re done here.” Levi got to his feet and straightened his jacket. “Dr. Northridge, you’ll be transported to the Clark County Detention Center later to await your hearing.”
“Don’t worry, Doctor,” Sawyer said, as he stood as well. “I’ll expedite the process and get this all worked out in no time.”
Though paler and grimmer than before, Northridge thanked them both gracefully. Sawyer followed Levi out of the interrogation room.
Expecting further blustering about the case, Levi was caught off guard when Sawyer said, “So I heard you’re dating that giant bounty hunter now. Russo, right?”
Levi opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Sawyer’s eyes traveled slowly down the length of Levi’s body. “He must be an incredible fuck to tempt you out of a billionaire’s bed.”
White-hot rage coursed through Levi, tightening every muscle and setting his pulse racing. He clenched his right hand into a fist. “If you think I wouldn’t risk the consequences of beating the shit out of you, you’re in for a rude awakening.”
“Careful,” Sawyer murmured. He leaned in close to Levi as he brushed past. “I might enjoy that.”
He walked away with a light, cheerful stride. Levi’s nostrils flared while he watched him go, and he had to take a couple of minutes to calm himself down before returning to the bullpen.
After he’d discussed the interrogation with Martine, she said, “I don’t know. Something about this still doesn’t feel right. Do you really think she did it?”
“I don’t know what to think.” Levi rubbed his tired eyes. “All the evidence points in her direction.”
“True, but let me ask you this—do you see Clarissa Northridge as the kind of person who’d lose her shit and throw up after stabbing a man?”
“No,” Levi said pensively. “I don’t.”
“Hey, Abrams!” Gibbs shouted across the bullpen, startling people throughout the room. “Wen wants to see you in his office pronto. What’d you do now?”
Dominic arrived at his childhood home in North Las Vegas in the early afternoon. It had been a packed house when he’d grown up here with his parents, four siblings, and paternal grandmother, but now that the kids were all adults and his father had passed away, his mother and grandmother were the only residents.
As he let himself in and unsnapped Rebel’s leash, he called out, “Nonna, it’s me!” His mother would be at work, and his grandmother hadn’t been expecting him.
Silvia ambled in from the kitchen, a frown on her face. She was by far the shortest person in their family, and he had to stoop to kiss her wrinkled cheek.
“You didn’t call,” she said sternly.
Trick Roller Page 18
