Defending Justice: A Justice Team Novel

by Misty Evans

  A window popped up on Beck’s screen that looked like a link to Annabelle’s cloud information and Teeg said, “You take Annabelle’s business emails.”

  He hit a few keys and turned to Matt, “You’ve got her personal emails. Grey is tracing her phone records, and I’m on Dikko. He’s adept at hiding his tracks, using a bunch of shell companies and switching up his contractors every few months, but he’s no match for me.”

  Teeg was definitely a top of the line hacker. Beck’s skills were less black hat and more basic FBI agent, but he did know how to work around passwords and break into certain encrypted files thanks to hours spent with the Bureau’s computer forensics examiners.

  Charlie Schock appeared in the doorway. “I owe you that steak dinner,” she said to Beck. “Not because your kid here uncovered more than I did on Dick and the defective helmets, but Meg and I landed a new case and I don’t have time to research Travathian.”

  Matt snickered and Beck knew Charlie was saving face. “I’ll take you up on that soon.”

  Matt must have owned some genuine hacking skills, too, for Teeg to set him loose on breaking into Annabelle’s personal emails. “She has three separate accounts,” Matt said. “Gmail, AOL, and Yahoo. Why would she need that many?”

  Good question. Beck did a quick browse in her work cloud. “Her accounting firm has one, but she has a subset email account for each client. This could take hours.”

  Teeg already had his headphones on and wasn’t listening to Beck or Matt. They exchanged a look and Beck went back to work with a heavy sigh, starting a spreadsheet to track client names, dates, and the services Annabelle had provided.

  The gods must have been smiling on him because his eye snagged on one of the client account files when he listed them out alphabetically. “Holy shit.”

  Matt looked up from his laptop. “Was is it?”

  “DTC. Annabelle has an email file for them.”

  A quirk of Matt’s brows suggested he dittoed the curse. “She handled something for DTC?”

  Beck clicked on the folder and perused the email headings. “Apparently an audit of their books.”

  Scanning through a series of emails, he came to one between Annabelle and Rachael. “Ho boy. Looks like Annabelle ended their business arrangement just two days before she was killed.”

  “Does it say why?”

  Beck shook his head. “The email is generic. Just a professional termination of services. No explanation, but she cc’d Dick on it.”

  Matt clicked away at his keyboard. “Let me look for recent emails in these private accounts and see if there’s anything between the two of them that explains it in more depth.”

  While he did that, Beck called Jackie. She answered on the first ring. “Hey there. I’m glad you called. I’m meeting with Annabelle’s partner, a Natalie Wong, at noon. Chessie says she started the accounting firm with Annabelle three years ago and they appear to have been close. Maybe she has insight into who would want to kill Annabelle. She probably knows Byron and the facts about the divorce. Maybe something about Dikko too.”

  “I’m betting she does. We just found an email that shows Annabelle was hired to audit DTC’s records. She terminated the agreement two days before she was murdered, but the email doesn’t say why. Maybe Wong knows.”

  “Ooh, interesting. I’ll ask her about it and see how she reacts. We’re meeting at O’Malley’s. Figured she might be more open to talk if I bought her lunch. You want to join us?”

  He glanced at his watch. “Sure. I’ll keep digging here for a while and then I’ll let you buy me lunch too.”

  He heard the smile in her voice. “Deal.”

  Two hours later, he had detailed information on many of Dikko’s other subsidiaries that Teeg had uncovered, a dozen or so names to investigate from the client emails, and Matt was ready to look into six men that had exchanged risqué emails with Annabelle through a dating site. While Beck still felt that Dikko and Byron were the most likely suspects, there were plenty of stalkers who used dating sites to find their next victims. He thanked Matt and Teeg for their time and headed out to meet Jackie.

  He was half a mile from O’Malley’s when he saw a set of blue lights flashing in his rearview. What was this?

  The white SUV with the Metro Police insignia rode his bumper until, begrudgingly, Beck picked a parking lot to pull into since there were no spaces on the street.

  Resisting getting pinned in by the cop, Beck ignored the parking slots and stopped in the middle of the first row of the lot. He rolled down his window as the officer approached.

  “Didn’t you see my lights on, son?”

  The man was dark-skinned and had small, deep-set eyes. Graying sideburns poked out from under his visored hat and Beck noticed the single bar on his blue shirt sleeve. A pot belly hung over the man’s belt.

  “What can I help you with today, Officer…?”

  The man didn’t fill in his name. “You know the drill. License and registration. Insurance card, too.”

  Beck held his irritation in check. “Why did you pull me over?”

  The man set his hands on his belt. “I said, license and registration, son.”

  He was about to argue when he thought of Jackie waiting for him at the restaurant. He was going to be late now as it was. Engaging in a pissing match with the cop might be more of a hassle than it was worth.

  Keeping his mental mumblings to himself, he gathered the items the officer wanted and started to text Jackie while the man reviewed them.

  “What are you doing?” the officer said, eyeing Beck’s phone.

  “I’m late for a lunch date with my attorney.” He punched up the camera and aimed the phone at the man’s badge, snapping a picture. “I’m letting her know what—or who, in this case, Officer Wendell—is holding me up.”

  The man shot him an annoyed smirk. “They told me you were a smartass, Pearson.”

  Beck searched the man’s features. “I’m sorry, they?”

  “The guys down at South. Told me you were a real piece of work.”

  South, as in Patrol Services South. The cops who’d arrested him had been from that precinct.

  “And you just happened to see me driving by and decided to harass me?” He could smell a lawsuit coming when he told Jackie what the man had said.

  “Let me tell you something, son…” He tossed Beck’s credentials through the window and leaned down.

  Oh this should be good. Like he’d done with Byron, Beck turned on the recording app on his phone and held it discreetly near his leg.

  “I don’t like murderers roaming my streets,” Wendell went on. “I heard about how you killed that woman and still managed to get bail because you’re some high and mighty FBI agent. I made it a point to get your license number and the make and model of your car, so I could keep an eye out for you. I serve and protect. I strongly suggest you turn your ass around and get out of my side of town or you’ll be getting familiar with North precinct today.”

  Was he serious? “You know, for a guy your age, you’d think you would have made more than lowly officer first class. You’re barely above a recruit. No supervisory abilities. Out here pounding the pavement everyday. That’s gotta play havoc with your solar plexus chakra. Could be why you’re carrying extra weight in your belly. Might want to look into that, officer. Might help with your anger management issues too. Now, if you don’t have a legitimate reason for stopping me, I’ll be going.”

  Wendell had straightened at the mention of his status and now frowned like a bulldog, deep creases on either side of his mouth. “You watch yourself, Pearson.”

  Without waiting for the cop to say more, Beck put the car in drive and took off, leaving the man staring after him.

  It shouldn’t have bothered him, but it did. The pressure cooker inside him was hitting the red zone. He picked up his travel mug and threw it against the far windshield.

  The laminated glass of the windshield held, but the ceramic travel mug wasn’t
so lucky. The impact caused it to explode, shrapnel hitting the dash and falling into the passenger seat. The remnants of his morning shake flew all over too, some landing on him and his phone.

  Sucking shake off one of his fingers, he merged into traffic, once more headed to the restaurant. He needed to jump on his treadmill later to burn off steam. Even better, he could work off energy with Jackie.

  * * *

  Jackie sat at the table in O’Malley’s, a trendy eatery in downtown DC that specialized in bratwursts of every variety. Anticipating the lunch rush, she’d shown up half an hour early to get a table and, well, center herself. As much as she could, anyway, with the chatter of voices echoing in the crowded restaurant. She probably should have picked a quieter place, but Natalie had been hesitant to meet and Jackie made the leap that a busy location where they could hide in plain sight might ease the tension.

  The downfall was the noise. People coming and going, bumping her chair while they mostly screamed over the crowd. Work with it. She’d have to. Even after the emotional and, um, erotic, night with Beck left her with a whopper of a mental-fatigue hangover.

  How she’d let herself get so deep in this, she couldn’t quite grasp. From the beginning, despite all the nonsense she’d given herself about turning Beck over to another defense attorney, she’d recognized the conflict of interest. And yet, whether from her own feelings of failure when it came to losing the baby and possibly her own ambitions, she’d wanted the case.

  Now she was in it. Failure would not be tolerated.

  “Ms. DelRay?”

  Jackie looked up from the menu she’d stopped reading ten minutes earlier and found a tall, dark-haired woman wearing a pleated, floral dress that said comfort more than chic.

  “Yes,” Jackie said. “Natalie?”

  The woman nodded and Jackie stood to shake her hand. “Please, have a seat.”

  Before retaking her own seat, Jackie glanced at the door. No Beck. He should have been here by now, considering this was his murder case. Where the hell was he?

  Given Natalie’s apprehension on the phone, Jackie couldn’t wait on him. The woman might turn tail any second and Jackie couldn’t risk losing whatever information Annabelle’s partner could provide.

  And, hello? Natalie turned out to be Annabelle’s polar opposite. Where Annabelle had been petite and elegant, Natalie fit more into the category of big-boned and casual.

  “Thank you for meeting me,” Jackie said. “I’m sure this is a terrible time for you personally.”

  The woman worked the strap of her handbag, absently moving her fingers up and down then tugging. “It’s so surreal. I saw her right before she left for that charity event. We’d just finished a meeting and she was excited to be heading out for the weekend.”

  Jackie thought about Josh, who wasn’t her partner but had become an integral part of her law practice. If he were suddenly gone, she’d be...devastated. Personally and professionally.

  Movement from the entrance drew Jackie’s attention. Two men in suits. No Beck. Damn him. She’d have to start without him.

  A young, college-aged waiter – Carl – stopped at the table, did his thing regarding the day’s specials and took their drink order.

  “If it’s okay with you,” Natalie said, “could we skip lunch? I want to help you, but I’m not sure what all I can tell you. And, I’m not comfortable helping the defense. Not if that guy killed Annabelle.”

  Jackie nodded. “I understand. If it makes you feel any better, I believe Mr. Pearson is being wrongly accused. I know I’m his attorney, but nothing is adding up. All I’m interested in right now is finding the real killer. You may think your information won’t help, but you’d be surprised. Sometimes the smallest detail blows a case open.”

  “Like contaminated evidence?”

  Jackie couldn’t help it, she smiled. Apparently Natalie Wong watched the news.

  “I checked you out,” Natalie said. “Saw you just won that big case with the Senator.”

  “I’m good at my job. I’ve worked both sides of the aisle so my...perspective...I guess, is a bit different. I understand what the prosecution is trying to prove. It’s my job to disprove it.”

  Carl dropped their drinks off and Jackie let him know she’d be getting a couple sandwiches to go. No sense tying up a table during lunch hour and shorting the kid on tips.

  When Carl disappeared again, Natalie took a long sip of her diet soda, sucking on her straw like a lifeline.

  This poor woman thought Jackie intended on grilling her. Jackie leaned in and met her gaze. “I promise I’ll do right by you. As long as you’re honest with me, we shouldn’t have any issues.”

  Natalie set her glass down, fiddled with the straw for a few seconds, then nodded. “Thank you. Annabelle would want me to help. That’s the only thing that brought me here.” She glanced around, shook her head. “Everyone’s life is so normal and Annabelle is dead. Doesn’t seem fair.”

  “It’s not.” Jackie held up her notepad. Now that Natalie had agreed to talk, Jackie didn’t intend on spooking her with recording her. “Do you mind if I take notes?”

  “No, that’s fine.”

  “Thank you. Was Annabelle having any issues with anyone? Clients or boyfriends maybe threatening her?”

  “Not that I know of. She wasn’t dating a lot. They were more...um,” she rolled one hand.

  “Hookups?”

  “Yes. The divorce was taking it out of her. She liked sex, she just didn’t want the drama that came with relationships. She kept things with men casual. Not that she slept around. She had a couple of guys, that’s it.”

  “I see. So nothing, outside of the divorce, in her personal life was cause for concern?”

  “She never mentioned anything.”

  Jackie jotted a note. “All right. How about clients? I know the two of you started your accounting firm together a few years back.”

  “Yes. We both worked for a bigger firm and decided to go out on our own. With all of Byron’s political connections, Annabelle thought we could make a bundle.” Natalie let out a small sigh. “She was right.”

  “How so?”

  “With the influx of business from Byron’s friends, we had to add two more accountants, which was good. That allowed Annabelle and me to do the big picture stuff. Forensic accounting, audits, the bigger projects while the associates handled tax preparation. We were just starting to see enough income where we could give ourselves raises.”

  “I see.” And since Natalie opened the door... “In terms of the forensic accounting, were there any cases she testified in that could have perpetuated bad feelings?”

  “Meaning, did her testimony earn her any enemies?”

  “Yes.”

  “She enjoyed that type of work and that end of the business was picking up. I suppose it’s possible someone was upset with her.”

  “All right. Would you be able to provide me with a list of projects she worked on recently?”

  Natalie shrugged. “The court cases are public record so I don’t see why I couldn’t.”

  The couple at the next table got up to leave and Natalie glanced over at them then to the door. She’d been skittish from the time she’d sat down and before her anxiety sent her running, Jackie needed to reel her back in.

  “Okay,” Jackie said. “Can you tell me anything about her dealings with DTC?”

  The woman did a double-take, her head literally snapping back. “DTC? What about them?”

  “My investigators found an email regarding Annabelle auditing DTC’s records. According to the email, she resigned the account days before her murder. I know Dikko Travathian and Byron are friends. I’m wondering why she would do that.”

  Another long sip of her soda ensued and Jackie’s pulse kicked up. Even the mention of DTC had Natalie squirming.

  Jackie waited. That soda wouldn’t last forever. Finally, the woman gave in and unlatched herself from the straw. “I…” she said. “Huh. I’m not sure I sho
uld be discussing that with you. It involves DTC’s proprietary information. Definitely not public record.”

  “I understand.”

  Really, she didn’t. Natalie was holding out on her. Time to up the pressure.

  Jackie leaned in again and pasted on her best I’m-the-good-girl face. The one where she opened her eyes wide and offered a reassuring smile. She’d won her father’s favor during many arguments with that face. “Natalie, if there’s anything at all that you can share with me, I promise I’ll keep you out of it as much as I can. This is for Annabelle. If you know something, you might be able to help convict her killer.”

  The woman sat back, her shoulders drooping enough to make Jackie believe she carried a whole lot of agonizing tension there. Part of her ached for this woman. She’d lost her friend and business partner and now found herself in the middle of a murder investigation that might force her to compromise her professional ethics.

  Jackie placed her pen on top of her notepad and pushed it to the side. “I can see this is tearing you up. I’m so sorry. Please, let me help.”

  The woman’s eyes ping-ponged between the notepad and her soda and then – upsy-daisy – she popped out of her chair.

  “I have to go.”

  Dammit. So close.

  She yanked her purse strap over her shoulder, gripping with enough force to make her knuckles protrude. Again, she glanced at the door, ready to bolt.

  Let her go. The woman was tuned up right now. Showing sympathy and giving her the opportunity to bail might earn Jackie points.

  “It’s okay,” Jackie said. “I know this is hard. Why don’t we take a break and maybe I can call you later?”

  Natalie took one step, turned back again. “There were problems with the inventory valuations and Travathian’s personal expenses. Anna questioned Travathian about it, but he had a million excuses with nothing to support any of them.”

  “What about documentation?”

  “He had nothing. Anna wasn’t comfortable with it. Plus, with him being Byron’s friend, she didn’t want any impropriety rumors floating about us.”