“Right.” Davis's tone belied just how much trust he put in federal agents. “Look, I told you what they told me. Abby has a sixteen-million-dollar deal hinging on the club. That's more than worth killing over, daddy issues notwithstanding.”
“No arguments, but where do Leanne and Holden Graves fit in?”
“Way I see it, if they all felt slighted by Richardson, maybe they would all get a cut. Maybe Holden and Leanne and Simon were all working with Abby. Sixteen million splits nicely by four.”
“Simon is in a coma, Leanne's in lockup, Holden has uniforms on his ass, and Abby is in the wind.”
“Not so in the wind as you might think,” Tiffany added. “There's supposed to be a closing in person later today, yes?”
“You have me on speaker, Delmonico?”
“Like he'd leave me out of this,” Tiffany snapped. “Don't try to baby me, Brandon. I might be hurt, but I can still shoot. Besides, I'm smarter than you.” She paused for a second when Davis laughed. “You need me.”
“Maybe so,” Davis replied, his voice unsure, “but you will not be in danger.”
Her mouth flattened, her Barbie-like full lips pursing. “Fine.” She scraped her fingers through her hair. “What's the game plan?”
“Kavanaugh hasn't told me yet, aside from that we're all to meet at Aylesford Community Bank at four.”
“We really think she'll just walk in like it's normal? She illegally purchased this land, with money that wasn't hers, yet she'll go to the local bank where everyone knows her and sit down to ink a deal like this?” Tiffany was throwing her arms around, and Chris knew she'd be pacing if she could walk.
The other side of the line was silent for long moments. “You got a better idea, Morgan?”
“No,” she huffed. “But I will before four.”
“Have at it. I'm being called by the Feds,” Davis told them, a bit of derision making it into his voice. “Call me with your better plan.”
“I will.” Chris hit the hang-up icon and turned to the blonde. “What's going on inside that head of yours?”
“I don't know, but what are the chances she'd waltz into the bank across the street from the law office and nonchalantly sign a huge land deal for sixteen million? Everyone knows she works for Carter Jamieson as his assistant, and if you can make that kind of money keeping someone's calendar and making coffee, sign me up.”
“So, what, she'd use a decoy? Another person involved in this snarl of a plan?”
She nodded. “That'd be my guess. Meanwhile, she's hightailing it to somewhere else. If she's the hacker the FBI says, it won't matter where she is, she'll be able to move the money whenever and however she wants.”
“And now, with Leanne and Simon out of the picture, it's all hers.”
“Except for whomever she has going in to sign the paperwork.”
He agreed with her, except for one glaring issue. “What if she knows everything's shot to shit?”
“Then we have a pretty little murderer on the loose.”
“And she could've been gone since last night.” He slumped into his chair. “Surely the Feds covered the airports, train stations, bus stations? Put out an APB?”
“We need to check all that.” She cast a long look at her broken leg. “We were preoccupied.”
“You need to stop getting hurt,” Chris said, lips curved into a half smile.
She smacked him on the arm. “Just makes me stronger.” She paused. “Now, get me to my computer and let's find this bitch.”
He didn't know how her computer was going to help, but he'd learned long ago never to question Tiffany Morgan about technology. “Hang on.”
~*~
“I think Morgan has a point,” Brandon found himself defending Tiffany a few minutes after hanging up the phone. “Why would Abby walk into her local bank? There has to be a plan in place. Another player.”
Kavanaugh nodded, but Sloane's look was hard. “So, what, you don't think we should go? Have a better idea?”
“You're still butthurt she cracked the computer code or whatever,” Brandon baited. “Tiffany and Delmonico think there might be yet another person involved who would sign the papers and that Abby has fled.” He paused. “Now, I hope you can find a murderer since she's likely crossed state lines and she's laundered money and whatever else you people take care of.”
Sloane took the few steps necessary to get right up in his face. “You forget who you're talking to,” he started.
“Shut it!” Kavanaugh snapped. “You both need to either whip your dicks out and measure, or we need to get a move on. We are together on this.” She sliced a glance at Sloane. “For the record, I agree with him and the others.” Her cool glare slid to him. “But don't get all puffed up about it. We've got a shit ton to do and less than shit to go on.”
“Delmonico and Morgan will be here shortly.”
“Good, the more eyes, the better.”
In the next few minutes, three additional people arrived who he assumed were also Feds. But it wasn't until Delmonico and Tiffany came through the door that he had any hope. Before then, the room had been a cacophony of sound, people talking over each other with no one really getting anywhere, but Tiffany came in with her little silver laptop and changed all that. “I called a friend at VDOT and got some traffic cam info,” she announced.
“We were waiting on that.”
She shrugged. “I got people. Anyway, I found a car crossing the Maryland border this morning with a driver who looks a lot like Abigail Reed.”
“That's not a lot to go on,” Sloane said from the desk he'd appropriated.
Tiffany didn't miss a beat. “It's more than you have, isn't it?”
Kavanaugh looked impressed. “Damn. You don't want a job, do you?”
“She'll be a detective here soon,” Brandon was quick to say. There was no way he'd let them snatch her and her talents for an alphabet agency.
“Gimme a desk, and I'll see what else I can tell you. I had to call in my favors for what I got so there might not be much more.”
To Brandon's astonishment, Sloane stood and offered his desk. “Have at it, soon to be detective Morgan.”
“What you have is more than we've been able to find, and we're supposed to have better resources,” Kavanaugh told her. “I'm not kidding about the job offer, either. You let me know.”
She tilted her head. “Let's find this chick, and then we can talk.”
“Fair enough.”
Brandon had been on the phone all afternoon chasing dead leads. A landlord, student adviser, best friend—no one had any idea where Abby was, and no one had any idea she was any good on a computer. All three knew she was old-school, keeping her appointments in a notebook called a bullet journal using special pens and something called washi tape. There was no indication she had a mean bone in her body, nor that she was stealing millions from anyone. She shopped at discount clothing stores and Trader Joe's. If he didn't know better, he'd think someone was framing the girl. “Holy fuck.”
Every head in the room turned to him. “What?” Delmonico asked.
“This girl didn't do any of this.”
“Explain.” This time the question was from Kavanaugh.
He scraped a hand down his face. “By all accounts, this girl can send an email, a tweet, or a Facebook message, and that's about it. She's not a hacker, and she doesn't have money.”
“Or, it's a cleverly concocted scheme so no one will suspect,” Sloane offered.
“Could be that. Nothing about any of this has added up from the beginning, and this is making me think we're on the wrong trail.”
Kavanaugh pointed at him, “Prove it.”
Great. “What do you think, Tiff? You think Abby's a murderer and a hacker?”
“I don't know. What I do know is she's in Baltimore right now.”
“Shit. Where?” They had to pick her up either way. Having her to question would definitely help the rest of the investigation along. If she was innocent, sh
e might have an idea who would use her as a scapegoat and why, and if she wasn't, well, she'd be in custody. Tiffany relayed the last place the car was parked in Federal Hill, and he and Delmonico ended up with Kavanaugh and Sloane on the way to either apprehend a fugitive or scare the shit out of an innocent woman.
~*~
Camryn woke, disoriented and uncomfortable. Her hand was throbbing, and her body wore the pain of being cramped into a trunk for however many hours it was. She looked over at Carter, still sleeping on the bed next to her, and something loosened in her chest. She'd been through a kidnapping and had been shot at today, but she was whole with Carter beside her and her family around her.
“Are you watching me sleep?” Carter asked, his voice like gravel. “Creeper.”
She grinned. “Your creeper.”
“Forever and always.” He rolled over to trap her beneath him. “Don't leave me again.”
The tears she hadn't let herself cry all day started to fall, and she let them. “I thought I was safe.”
“I know, but Lark...” he trailed off, those gray eyes going glassy. “It's my fault.”
She felt her eyebrows knit. “How do you figure that? I'm the one who left the house when she promised she wouldn't.”
“Abby. I should have known there was something off with her.”
“So, you're psychic now?” The man took too much responsibility. “I love you more than anything, but you have to know it's not your fault. I should have been safe going to my sister-in-law's studio, and you should know that the woman you hire as your assistant isn't going to try and kill the woman you love.” She bit her lip. “But, I'm an Everett, and that's just not how our lives work.”
“With a great amount of money comes a great number of crazies?”
She smiled at his purposeful mangling of the famous Spider-Man line. “Something like that.”
“I hope this is as exciting as our life will be.” He dropped to his elbows to kiss her breathless. “Right now, I just want to love you.”
She couldn't help the smile. “Have at it.”
Before he could do more than kiss her again, she heard the sound of glass shattering and the alarm trip. “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Carter muttered as he rolled them off the bed and onto the floor, sheltering them as best he could against the next shots.
When she was able to look up, she noticed five bullet holes midway up the wall. Sean O'Dell appeared in the doorway at the same time, his nine-millimeter drawn. “Everyone okay?” The bodyguard's shoulders were tense, his jaw clenched. “That came from a ways out. I thought the sniper had been apprehended.”
She eyed the good-looking former Marine. “It would appear we were all wrong. Do we need to stay away from windows and crawl around on the floor?”
He surveyed the damage. “You probably don't need to crawl. Let's get you into the basement. We might need to head somewhere safer soon.”
“There's somewhere safer?” Carter asked, arms outstretched.
The larger man grimaced. “If no one knows where you are, they can't shoot at you.”
“True enough.”
As they followed Sean O'Dell down the hallway and two flights of stairs to the large basement, she listened as best she could to Sean's phone conversation. From what she could catch, she knew the shooter from earlier was in lockup, so this one had to be someone else. What in the world was going on, and why did it always have to involve someone trying to kill her?
She knew it was harder to shoot them in the basement due to its small windows and limited visibility from the outside, but if the shooter from earlier today was locked up, who was shooting now? She glanced back at Sean, one of the two bodyguards from Trent, McKenna, and Buchanan assigned to keep them alive. The man was huge, six foot four if he was an inch, and a former spec ops Marine. His partner, Alec Cartwright, was a black belt in six martial arts disciplines, a former MMA fighter, and reportedly a crack shot. Dylan had sent the best, and while she wasn't worried about their abilities, there was little either could do against a sniper's bullet. She squeezed Carter's hand. They'd made it this far. There was no way they were losing now.
~*~
Chris couldn't believe Tiffany allowed herself to be left behind, but with her broken leg, it made sense. So, he and Brandon Davis were together in one vehicle while Sloane paired with Kavanaugh. He wasn't sure why there needed to be four of them to pick up one woman, but he didn't question it too much—he was just ready to call this case over. He glanced at his temporary partner. “Your gut's telling you she's not it?”
“Doesn't mean we shouldn't grab her.”
“I'm not saying that—” the rest of his thought was cut off by the ring of the phone before it switched to Bluetooth. “Shots fired at the Everett estate.”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Davis growled.
“That's what I said,” Tiffany replied. “They have O'Dell and Cartwright from TMB with them, so they're probably okay for now, but what the fuck?”
What the fuck indeed. “I'm assuming we're looking for an active shooter?” The question was stupid, but he was dumbstruck. She gave an affirmative answer to his dumb question. “There are enough twists in this that it had to be written by M. Night Shyamalan.”
That earned a laugh from both Tiffany and Davis. “Or George R. R. Martin,” she added.
“Not enough death for him,” Davis put in. “You'd need at least one more murder.”
“Although, this does feel a little Game of Thrones to me,” Tiffany went on. “I mean, there's an illegal land deal, hidden kids, possible patricide...” she trailed off.
Since this was a possible new angle, and they had some time, Chris took the opportunity to ask, “Okay, so let's say this does have a twisty, movie feel. Who are the players and what's going on? Who's the new shooter?”
“What are we missing?” Tiffany and Davis asked at the same time.
“What, or who?”
“Why was Leanne shooting up Jamieson's SUV? Why did Simon crash into them? Who kidnapped Camryn Everett? Is Holden involved or is he just an idiot kid? Was Abby Reed stealing millions to buy and sell land she didn't own?” He paused. “Tune in next week,” he added.
Tiffany sucked in a breath, her gasp strong over the line. “Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa.”
“You riding a horse over there, Morgan?” Davis asked through a laugh.
The clacking of keys filled the car for a long moment. “Oh, shit, I messed up.”
Chris's stomach sank to his toes. “What is it?”
“I found the hacker. The real hacker. Abby Reed isn't the one the FBI was looking for. They wanted Theo Richardson.”
“Say what now?” Davis's reaction was quicker than his own, but their thoughts were right in line.
“Abigail Reed is very, very likely innocent. From what I can tell here—now that I've woven through all the muck—is that it all originated right from the club.”
“He was murdered, Tiff.” He was having a hard time comprehending what she was telling him while driving. “If he was embezzling from himself, why did he end up dead?”
“Personal reasons?” she offered.
He snorted. “So, that leaves the same suspect list. I really don’t think Simon or Leanne shot him, though.”
“You've been wrong before,” Davis pointed out.
He had and had barely lived to tell the tale. “True. But, just like your gut was telling you Abby Reed isn't the right perp here, I don't think either one of those two murdered Richardson.”
“The only other person on the shortlist is Holden Graves.” Tiffany's words were true, but the thought was nothing short of disturbing. “He did admit to the school,” she went on, “and it's possible he managed to get out from the FBI surveillance considering they've done a piss poor job thus far.”
“What about his mother?”
“Think they're working together?” Davis asked.
“I need to loop in the Feds,” Tiffany said. “I think
both the Richardson brothers were in it together along with Leanne and Holden Graves.” She paused, taking a noticeable gulp of air before adding, “Holden killed Theo.”
Shit. “But why kidnap Camryn Everett, why shoot at her?”
“Either an elaborate plan to keep us off track, a last-minute grab to make some cash or something else entirely. I'm not sure yet.” Tiffany's voice was clipped, the lack of answers obviously bothering her as much as it was Davis and himself.
“We're almost to the destination in Baltimore,” he told her. “Call Kavanaugh and read her and Sloane in, then we'll all figure out the next move.” He tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel. “How much muck did you have to sort through to find what you did?”
“A ton. They thought they were looking for a woman, and what we found corroborated the theory. What we didn't plan was someone actively making it look like Carter's assistant was a criminal.”
“Wait. Kavanaugh said Helen Reed had affairs with both Richardson brothers and wasn't sure which was Abby's father. There's no way that's not the reason she is implicated here.”
“She's being punished for being Theo's daughter?”
Chris almost ran the car off the road as the answer came to him. “If she is Theo's biological daughter, then Camryn could see fit to give her the club or money or whatever. If she's in prison—”
“That leaves the door open for Holden,” Davis finished.
“Camryn was kidnapped to make Abby seem even more guilty.”
Tiffany was right. “But the shooter at the Everett estate doesn't know we're on our way to her right now.”
“And that's the edge we need. I'll make the call to the Feds, you stay on top of things here.”
“Stay off that leg!” Davis yelled before the line went dead.
Chris looked over at the man in the other seat, biting back the smile regarding his last remark. “We both know she's hopping all over the station instead of using her crutches.
Brandon Davis did smile then. “Nah. She's too smart for that. I'd put money on her rolling around in an office chair, barking orders at everyone.”
He nodded. He could imagine her doing just that and thanked the heavens above for her and her computer skills and connections. She'd managed to crack yet another Everett-centric case wide open with some keystrokes and an agile mind. Too bad she was in Tyler, and they only got to partner up on big cases. Of course, everything lately had been big.
Ache For Me (Romantic Suspense) (The Everetts of Tyler Book 4) Page 17
