by Lexi Blake
He turned away, looking out the window at the buildings around him. “Tell me why you decided to investigate this case.”
It was a good first step. He was allowing her to make some decisions, and she knew that was hard for him. His childhood had been out of control, from what she could tell, and it had turned him into a man who wanted to control everything around him. “I found out my best friend in the world was getting cozy with your brother, and I take care of my friends.”
“Ah,” he said, his eyes still on the skyline. “So that’s why you went looking. And you met Carly while you were investigating your own brother’s murder.”
He was the first person ever who simply called it what it was. Everyone else in her life called it Johnny’s “death,” as though they weren’t sure what to call something that hadn’t been proven. Drew didn’t use any such euphemism. “Yes. I contacted her because she could answer some of my questions.”
“How did you know she wouldn’t be loyal to her boss? For that matter, how did you know she hadn’t been in on it?”
“She seemed nice. She didn’t seem like the type of person who would help plan a murder.”
“You need a keeper, sweetheart,” he grumbled with a shake of his head. “You need to understand that anyone can kill someone given the right circumstances. Carly would have killed my mother that night.”
“In defense of Bran, yes. She certainly wouldn’t kill to protect her boss’s reputation.” She sighed at his cynicism and turned her attention to the box in front of her, opening the top and sliding it away. There it all was, the evidence involved in a murder no one would ever prosecute because there was so little to be had.
The first things in the file were the pictures taken by the CSI agents working the crime scene. They lay faceup. She’d put them there herself, careful to replace every single item in the same order as she’d taken them out. Except she was almost certain the pictures had begun with an overall view of the ruined house. This set began with the charred remains of Benedict Lawless. He was ash and bone, his skeleton exposed. There was a gun close to his corpse, as though he’d tossed it aside after having killed his wife. His lover. Whoever Francine had been to him.
She was positive she hadn’t put that picture on top of the file. It was the most gruesome of the photos. She’d shrunk back from it when she’d seen it.
Her first thought had been how could anyone hate someone so much?
“Did you find it?” Drew asked.
“Give me a second.” She placed the photos facedown and continued to work her way through. “I have to leave everything the way I found it. You know the gun’s not in here, right?”
“It’s in a different lockup,” he replied. “Do you think we need to see it?”
“No,” she replied, suspicion creeping into her brain. “They didn’t find fingerprints. The fire was so hot it damaged the gun as well. You can turn around. I’ve got the pictures covered.”
He moved quickly, as though he hated being left out. Likely he had.
“Is that the medical examiner’s report? That’s a thick file. Somehow it doesn’t seem like as much on the screen.”
Drew was the type of man who viewed everything through the filter of a screen. It was precisely why she hadn’t wanted him to look at those photos. Something about holding them in her hands made them very real, and he didn’t need that. “Yes, it’s quite thorough. Lots of information all adding up to the same conclusion. Both victims died of bullet wounds.”
She pulled the ME report. The official one was in front, but she was interested in the secondary report, the one at the back of the file. She remembered that report so vividly because she stared at it forever. It had been clipped together by a small silver paper clip.
“I’ve looked through it but I don’t have a lot of medical experience.”
“The theory is your father set the fire, then shot your mother and himself.” She flipped through the paperwork, looking for the intern’s report.
“Yes, and they also believe he covered her body in gasoline and that’s why there was next to nothing of her left. I read a report that this was his way of completely obliterating my mother’s existence,” he said, bitterness plain in his tone. “It always bugged me that they would take pains to get rid of my mother’s body and not take the same care with him. Now I know why.”
Yes, it had bothered her as well, but now something bothered her even more.
Shelby stared for a moment and then checked the top of the lid again. The checkout paperwork was still the same. Years of inactivity and then a single person who had looked through the file on police property. Her signature was clear as day. Shelby Gates. No one else.
Then where had that report and its little silver clip gone?
“It’s not here,” she said quietly. “Could you pass me the police reports and the DA’s folder? Maybe I didn’t put it back properly.”
Her hands were shaking because it had been sealed. He reached out and put a hand over hers.
“Shelby, calm down. Everything’s all right.”
But it wasn’t. “I was the last person to see this evidence. Look. I was the last person to sign in.”
“You weren’t the last person to see it, obviously.” He took her hand in both of his. “Do you honestly believe my mother would sign in and then steal the documents she needed? She would never sign in. She would find a way to cover her tracks. She would bribe someone. She probably even had someone watching the DPD computer systems. Stay right here.”
She heard him striding to the door and then it closing.
It was gone. Her best evidence was gone. Except it wasn’t. She took a deep breath because she’d been smart. She’d taken a picture and then transferred it to her computer. It was sitting on her laptop. That bitch could try to cover it up, but Shelby had tangled with the best. She set down the files and crossed to where she’d left her bag. The big purse might not be a stunning designer bag, but it carried everything she needed, including her laptop. She pulled it out and flipped the top open. She almost never turned it off, a fact that would get her a hearty lecture from the tech guru, but it made her damn happy at the moment. She was able to locate the file where she kept all her notes on the Lawless murders.
Except there were no files. The menu was completely empty. She could see where she’d started the file, but there was nothing in there. No tab marked police reports or witness accounts. No file where she’d gathered all the media she could find.
Weeks’ worth of work completely wiped out.
She closed the laptop, slamming it down.
What the hell had happened?
The door came open again and Drew strode in, followed by Lieutenant Brighton.
The police officer was frowning as he walked to the evidence box. “Mr. Lawless said there was something missing?”
She looked up at Drew. Would he even believe her? Or would he think she’d made the whole thing up in order to get close to him, to get the real information? It wouldn’t be the first time someone had lied in order to get what they wanted out of him. Would he even give her a ride back to LA or would she find herself without a way to get home?
Without a home at all.
Damn it.
“There used to be a report from the intern along with the medical examiner’s report. It was important.”
Brighton quickly flipped through the papers. “I don’t see anything like that. And I don’t see the content file. There should be a page listing everything that’s in this folder.”
Great. There went her proof that it even existed. “I didn’t see it in there. It was there the last time I examined the evidence.”
Brighton’s eyes came up, the first sign that he was getting wary. “All right. I made sure the evidence box was properly sealed before I came here. I’m not sure what could have happened.”
�
�It’s worse. I made a copy of the report in question.” She knew she was digging a deep hole for herself, but she was a rip-the-bandage-off kind of girl. Anticipation of pain was way worse than the actual pain. Well, not really. The pain sucked and so did worrying about it, so it was far better to get to the agony and get through it. “I kept it on my computer with the rest of my investigation finds. It’s all gone.”
“Shit,” Drew cursed. “Is it connected to Wi-Fi?”
“Not right now it isn’t, but I usually connect wherever I am.” The Wi-Fi in the building required a password and she hadn’t asked for it. She’d only brought the computer along out of habit. She was never without the laptop. If she had time to kill she would hop on and write, either on one of the stories she had going or on the novel she was one day going to finish if she ever got the time.
“I know the password,” Brighton offered.
Drew held up a hand. “I don’t want it. If there was a breach, it didn’t happen here. It likely happened at a public hot spot. Unless you want to tell me you don’t use the Wi-Fi at the coffeehouse you take breaks at.”
She hadn’t even thought about it. She’d taken to having afternoon coffee at a shop down the street from the 4L office and she used the Wi-Fi there. Just yesterday she’d been on it, looking through her file. “I do.”
Drew nodded. “Lieutenant, I thank you for your help, but I think we can safely say that the evidence box has been compromised. You might want to check the rest of the evidence as well. I think you have a leak in the department.”
“Shit.” Brighton picked up the files and turned them over, but something slipped out of his hands and onto the floor.
Drew bent over to pick it up for the officer and froze.
Shelby realized what he was looking at. The first of the photos, the one of Benedict that should have been on the bottom, was in his hand and he was staring down at it, his father’s body burnt and charred and yet somehow still recognizable in a small way.
“I’ll take that,” she offered.
He turned it over, his expression not changing a bit. His face was shut down and there was a blankness in his eyes that disturbed the hell out of her. He stopped again, staring at the back of the photo. “Was this here the last time you saw it?”
She glanced down and was horrified to see that someone had used a marker to draw a small red heart on the back of the photo. “No. I . . . I don’t think so. And it wasn’t where I left it. I tried to keep the photos in the same order they were in, but that one was on top when I opened the box.”
“The scene photos should have been first.” A grim look crossed Brighton’s face. “This should have been at the back of the pile, but then again it’s obvious someone fucked with this. I’ll have to open an investigation.”
“And tip off the woman who’s behind this?” Drew’s tone was even, as though seeing his father’s ruined body was an everyday occurrence. “This is a solved case, Lieutenant. I think that would be ridiculous and a waste of the department’s time. Let it lie.”
His mother had likely been the one to lay that photo out like an offering to whoever opened the box next. A promise. A threat of what would happen.
Had she thought it would be one of her children? Had she known and wanted the first thing they saw to be what she’d done to their father?
Brighton took the photo and placed everything back in the box. “I understand. You’re probably right, but I might be interested in pursuing a quiet investigation of who could have been in this box.”
“Go do what you need to do.” Drew sat down and reached for her laptop. “Again, thank you for your aid and your discretion.”
He flipped open the lid of her laptop and turned his attention to the screen.
No one could dismiss a person quite like Andrew Lawless. It was like they’d ceased to exist for him. Brighton took the box and left, leaving her alone with a man who wouldn’t look at her.
“Do you need my password?” She wasn’t sure what he was looking for. It had to be either the missing files or evidence that someone had deleted them.
“I’m already in,” he replied, his voice a bland monotone. “You have to be more creative. It took me two tries to figure out it’s your brother’s name and his birthday. People are too sentimental. A passcode should be something randomly generated.”
“Drew, I think we should talk.” She needed to know what was going through that brilliant brain of his.
“I need to work and I need to be alone. You asked me to trust you. Well, I’m asking the same of you.” He never once turned away from the system.
He was typing away, working in some foreign language she couldn’t understand. He’d pulled up a long stream of what looked like complete gibberish to her.
She could push the issue or she could give him a couple of minutes with the computer. A few minutes where he could be in control.
It might be the only peace she could give him for now. But what if he was going through her every file, looking for ways to pin this all on her?
She took a deep breath and let it go. If he needed to go through her files to give himself assurance that she wasn’t working against him, that was all right.
“Can I get you anything?”
He frowned and looked up. “What?”
“Like a bottle of water?”
His brow furrowed as though the thought rattled him on some level. “Can you call my brother and tell him we’ve had a change of plans? I want to go home tonight.”
Because sitting across from Bran and Carly would be torture after what he’d seen this afternoon. “Yes. I’ll talk to Carly.”
He turned back to the computer, but his shoulders had relaxed slightly. “And call the pilot. We’ll need a car here in an hour or so.”
He was treating her like his assistant or something, but it was okay. She was willing to do almost anything in order to get that stark look out of his eyes.
“I will.” She started for the door.
“Shelby?”
She turned, but he was still staring at the screen. “Yes?”
“I know you’re telling me the truth. Don’t think I’m angry with you. I don’t process things properly all the time.”
Her heart softened. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay, Drew.”
He fell silent again, lost to the only world he felt truly comfortable in. Shelby walked out and began to arrange their trip home.
• • •
The plane leveled out and Shelby looked through the window at the night sky, the lights of DFW sparkling under her. It had been hours and Drew was still drawn into himself. In roughly forty minutes they would land, and she wasn’t sure what would happen then. A limo would pick them up and they would go to their separate rooms and he would brood all night. That was the likeliest outcome.
“Bran was disappointed,” she murmured as the flight attendant handed them each three fingers of Scotch.
Drew sat back and took a long sip before nodding to the flight attendant, which seemed to be her cue to exit. “I’ve disappointed him most of his life, so it shouldn’t come as a huge surprise.”
Mopey Drew. Yeah, she was getting a full dose of him. “He wanted to see you. That was all. Carly wanted me to tell you she misses you, too.”
He stared out the window. He was lonely. He might never admit it, but it was easy to see he had no idea what to do without his siblings to take care of. And Hatch had stayed behind in Dallas to talk to some new investors and show them a good time. If it weren’t for Drew’s penchant for tearing down perfectly terrible buildings, she might be on her way back to LA and he would be completely alone.
Why couldn’t the man simply ask for what he wanted? The answer came fairly easily as she sat staring at him. Drew had learned the hard way that nothing in life was free.
She set down her drink. She couldn’t forget
the fact that he hadn’t even questioned her in front of the lieutenant. “Why did you believe me when I told you the files had been erased?”
He finally looked up, his brow furrowing in consternation. “What?”
“I’m just saying it would have been easy for you to look at the evidence and assume I was lying to you.”
“Why would you lie to me?”
“Any number of reasons.” She’d thought about it all afternoon.
“I know you weren’t lying, Shelby. If it helps, I knew what was happening the moment you told me the report was missing.” He knocked back the rest of the drink, finishing it off. “I knew she’d probably had someone watching the file and that she’d figured out what you had discovered and managed to get rid of it. I also realized when she figured out who you were, she probably had taken over your system.”
She shuddered. Drew had found the malware that had infected Shelby’s computer. She hadn’t even realized what was happening. She’d been going on about her days, instant messaging her friends and going on social media, never realizing someone was watching her every move. Not someone. Iris Lawless.
“Still, I was worried for a few minutes that you would think I’d made the whole thing up.”
“I’m a suspicious person,” he admitted. “But I’m also fairly good at reading people. You’re not the lying type. So don’t worry about it. Tomorrow I’ll go back to work and you’ll start again. I’ll get you a clean system and untraceable Internet, though I think it’s best if you still use the system she’s watching. Because we weren’t hooked up to Wi-Fi while we were in the McKay-Taggart building, she can’t know you tried to access the files and discovered they’re gone. I erased all evidence that you were even in that part of your system. When she looks through your activity next, she won’t see anything but the fact that you watch too many puppy videos and you’re writing a smutty book.”
