Wrongfully Accused

by Ana Barrons

  “You’re a smart woman.”

  She splayed one hand across her chest. “I’m an artist, for God’s sake. I run a charitable foundation. I’m not a mad bomber. This is completely crazy.”

  “You’ve moved in excess of ninety-five million dollars over the past year. Where did it go?”

  She scrubbed her hands over her face. “We’ve been over this. I have no idea.”

  “Could it have been used to pay someone to create a camera bomb that was virtually undetectable?”

  “Not by me.”

  “Who else had access to your husband’s belongings before he got on that plane?”

  “I don’t know. Probably no one. Drew didn’t like people messing with his things.”

  “But you shared a room with him, you told me that. Did he get dressed in your room?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did anyone else come into your room that morning?”

  “No, not that morning.”

  “The night before?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe? You don’t know?”

  “Some of Drew’s colleagues came back with him for a drink.”

  “Who were they?”

  “Michael Clark. Joy Stuart and her husband, Ben. Maybe Congressman Jorling, others. I don’t know.”

  “Okay,” Parker said. “What time was this?”

  “Late. I had fallen asleep on the sofa in the TV room.”

  “Okay. Where were your husband and the others?”

  “Well, when I woke up I heard them talking in the living room.”

  “Not in the bedroom.”

  She shrugged. “No, but... Well, they were in the house.”

  “I see. Do you believe any of those people would want to kill your husband, Mrs. Franklin?”

  “Not really.”

  “Not really?”

  “No.” She was clearly exasperated. “I mean no.”

  “What kind of idiot rolls over a babe like her?” Gabe’s nostrils flared at the sound of Mancuso’s voice behind him. How this asshole ever made it through the FBI academy he’d never know. Rather than risk punching the guy’s lights out, he kept his eyes on Kate and didn’t turn around, or acknowledge Mancuso’s presence.

  “Can I take it you enjoyed your assignment, Hugo?”

  “You can take it however the fuck you want.” So much for self-control.

  “I wonder why she didn’t call her lawyer?”

  Gabe had been wondering the same thing. “Probably figured she had nothing to hide. Common mistake.” And he hadn’t had the presence of mind to insist on it. “From what I’m hearing I’d say this would be a good time for her to call someone, though.”

  “Hard to dispute evidence like this, huh?” Mancuso said.

  Gabe whirled on him. “Evidence like what? There’s no proof it was Kate’s camera, or even that it was a camera. The flight attendant could have gotten it wrong. And even if it were her camera, and even if she wanted to kill her husband, and even if she found some undetectable explosives, why the hell wouldn’t she just poison him? Or blow up his car?”

  Mancuso shrugged. “Hard to understand why people do the crazy things they do. Why does a mother strangle her kids and keep them in the freezer for four years? Why not drop them off at the local church?”

  Gabe realized that he was coming across as convinced of Kate’s innocence, which was a surefire way to be locked out of the investigation. He was careful to temper his next words. “I’m just saying, if that’s the best you’ve got it’ll never hold up in court. You’ll have to hope Parker cracks her, but from what I can see,” he indicated the window behind him, “she’s not about to confess to anything.”

  “She had to be working with someone,” Mancuso said. “All that money went somewhere. The question is to who, and what kind of trail did they leave?”

  * * *

  “Why didn’t Michael Clark take the same flight back to D.C. as your husband?” Parker asked.

  “I think he said something about seeing friends in Connecticut.”

  “Isn’t that a bit unusual? Right before a major vote I would think the congressman’s AA would go wherever the congressman went.”

  “You’ll have to ask him. Joy wasn’t on the flight, either, and she—”

  “Joy?”

  “Joy Stuart.”

  “Right, the other sponsor.”

  “Drew wasn’t even supposed to be on that flight.”

  “Excuse me?” Parker said.

  “He was going to drive home.”

  “All the way to Washington?”

  She nodded. “He only took the flight because Congressman Jorling called when Drew was about to drop me at the terminal and told him there was a spot on the Learjet.”

  Parker frowned. “Why didn’t you tell us this before?”

  “Didn’t I?”

  “What did your husband do with his car?”

  “It was a rental. I guess he returned it.”

  They were silent while Parker shuffled through papers, frowning more deeply. “Why would your husband drive home instead of flying?”

  She raised one shoulder in a half shrug. “He liked his time alone in the car to listen to his CDs, make phone calls...whatever he did, without anyone else around. He didn’t like me to drive places with him even when we were both in Washington.”

  “Why is that?”

  Her sigh was heavy. Dejected. “I guess I cramped his style.”

  “So, let’s back up. Of the people who had been at your in-laws’ house the night before, your husband was the only one who took that flight.”

  “That’s right. Almost as though...”

  “Almost as though...?”

  She frowned. “Almost as though the rest of them knew the plane was going to explode.”

  Chapter Thirty

  The look on Joy’s face when she opened her door was almost comical, she was so stunned. Dressed in khaki shorts and a polo shirt and wearing very little makeup she looked younger and softer than she did in her professional garb. Not that he was fooled.

  “Gabe,” she said when she’d recovered her composure. She ran a hand through her short blond hair. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

  “I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes, if you don’t mind.”

  It was clear that she did mind, but it would have been hard to say that to an old friend. “You’re about the last person I expected to find on my front porch.”

  “No,” he said. “The last person you’d expect to find would be your old friend Kate.”

  She blinked but didn’t change her expression. A few beats passed. Her hand had tightened on the door, and she made no move to let him in. “It’s not a great time, to be honest. I’ve had a long day and I still have work to finish.”

  “I won’t take up a lot of your time. I promise.”

  She huffed and stepped aside. As he passed by her into the foyer she said, “I can’t wait to hear what’s so important.”

  “I don’t suppose I could bum a cup of coffee off you,” he said. “It’s been a long day for me too.”

  Annoyance flashed across her face, but she said, “Sure. Sit down and I’ll...go get it.” She turned to go to the kitchen. “I’ll have to make a fresh pot, so it could be a few minutes.”

  “No problem,” he said, as though he were doing her a favor. As soon as she was gone he went into the living room and ran his cop’s eyes over every surface, not knowing what he was looking for exactly, but hoping something would jump out at him. He was convinced there was something of Drew Franklin’s that someone wanted, and that someone had gone after Kate twice to get a look through her house. If that someone happened to be Joy...

  Joy walked into the room with two mugs of coffee. “I fixed it the way you always used to like it.” Apparently she’d decided it was best to be pleasant, and handed him a mug with an American flag on the side. “Half-and-half and two sugars, right?”

  “Good memory,” he said, and
took a sip.

  Joy sat on the sofa, cradling her coffee in her hands. “So what’s on your mind? Is this police business or personal?”

  He remained standing. “Where’s Ben?”

  “Out,” she said coolly. “What’s going on?”

  “Is he likely to be home anytime soon?”

  She tilted her head to one side. “Well, now, this is interesting. You show up at—” she glanced at her watch, “—almost eleven o’clock and want to know if my husband’s going to show up?” She flashed him a sexy smile. “I never knew you cared.”

  He sat beside her on the sofa, a little too close. Her eyes widened a bit, but she recovered. “There are a lot of things about me you never knew,” he said.

  She stared at him. “Should we be drinking something stronger than coffee?”

  He smiled slowly. “You tell me.”

  Her nervous giggle told him she was off balance. Good.

  “Tell me about you and Drew Franklin,” he said, squeezing her shoulder as though he was about to start massaging. “How long were you lovers?”

  She blinked several times. Gabe was counting on her confusion. Was he coming on to her by asking about her former lover or was this a fishing expedition?

  “What makes you think we were lovers?” she asked cautiously.

  “You’re a beautiful woman, and he spent a lot of time with you. He also didn’t much care for his wife.” He was gently kneading her trapezius muscle, keeping her relaxed and unsure where the hell he was coming from.

  “Is that what Kate told you?” she asked.

  “More or less.”

  “Drew and I were close,” she said. “But we weren’t lovers. If Kate chooses to believe that to justify her actions, that’s her prerogative. But she’s wrong.”

  “What actions?”

  She shrugged, but didn’t pull back from his hand. Apparently she was enjoying the massage. He just had to remind himself not to slide up a couple of inches and strangle her.

  “Oh, come on,” she said. “It wouldn’t surprise me at all if she had something to do with that explosion. The American people don’t appreciate this, but let’s face it, it’s not that hard to smuggle explosives on to a plane. And there are new materials out there our intelligence agencies don’t even know about. They’re ridiculously behind the curve on so many things the terrorists are doing.”

  “And you’re going to change all that when you’re the Director of Global Intelligence,” Gabe said.

  Joy froze. It had been a hunch on his part, but he’d obviously hit pay dirt. “What are you talking about?” she asked, pulling away from him. “The bill hasn’t passed the Senate yet. And even if it does, the president hasn’t decided who he’s going to appoint to that position.”

  “You’d be perfect for the position,” Gabe said evenly. “If I were the president I’d pick you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re smart, you understand all the intricacies of the bill and what it needs to be effective. Who else is as qualified as you?”

  Bit by bit she relaxed again, but there a wariness in her eyes. “Why are you really here?”

  He sat back, knees spread, arms resting on the back of the couch, like he was settling in to watch a football game. “I’m stumped,” he said. “Someone’s either trying to hurt Kate for personal reasons or they’re trying to get her out of the way.”

  Joy folded her arms over her chest. She was sitting forward on the couch, away from the long reach of his hand, her body turned halfway toward him, but her closest leg crossed away from him. Protecting herself. “And you’re telling me this because...?”

  He shrugged but held her gaze. “Who hates her enough to do her bodily harm, Joy?”

  Joy brought a hand to her throat and gave a harsh laugh. “Why are you asking me?”

  “Because I can’t think of anyone who hates her more than you.”

  In the silence that followed Gabe felt Joy’s anger building, like a sudden thunderstorm that charges the air. Eyes narrowed, nostrils flared, she slowly unfolded her arms and placed tight fists on her thighs.

  “What, exactly,” she began, her voice low and controlled, “are you saying, Gabe? Are you accusing me of trying to kill your darling sister-in-law?” Blue eyes flashed. “Drew’s loving, supportive wife?”

  The fact that she’d referred to killing Kate as opposed to hurting her was not lost on Gabe. “You make it sound as though Drew would have liked to kill her himself.”

  The moment the words left his lips, Joy went deathly pale. She swallowed hard. “I’d like you to leave now,” she said in a shaky voice. When she stood she was unsteady on her feet.

  Gabe frowned. “Are you okay?”

  “No, I’m tired and I’m...insulted.” She lifted her chin and glared at him. “And disappointed, Gabe. Very disappointed. Drew was a good man, and to suggest that he would try to kill his wife is ludicrous. Why would he do such a thing? For her money? Is that what you’re thinking?”

  Gabe studied her for several seconds. Joy was practically wringing her hands. What the hell was that about? “Drew Franklin is dead. Why would I suggest he was trying to kill her?”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Joy said. “You were referring... speaking in past tense. I was just saying... I was standing up for him, okay? It’s not nice to speak ill of the dead.”

  Gabe rose and Joy stepped away from him. “You seem more nervous than insulted,” he said. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  She wouldn’t look at him. “No. I’d like you to leave.”

  Instead of leaving he reached out to grip her shoulders.

  Joy’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

  “Look me in the eye and tell me you believe Kate has it in her to murder anyone. Go ahead.”

  Joy stared at him for a long moment, then covered her eyes with her hands. “Oh, God. What a mess.”

  Was he actually going to get a confession out of her? He gentled the hands on her shoulders. “Tell me about it, Joy. I’ll do whatever I can for you, but you have to tell me everything.”

  She pulled away, revealing an anguished expression. “No, you don’t understand. It’s not about me. It’s about...someone else.” She shook her head as though pained. “I wanted so badly to keep his name out of it, but at this point I think it’s my duty to tell someone.”

  So that’s the way she was going to play it. Gabe took her cold hands in his. “Talk to me. Whose name are you trying to keep out of it?”

  Her blue eyes were moist. “You have to understand that I don’t know anything for sure. If I did I would have told you. But it’s all so surreal, you know?”

  “What’s surreal?

  “You know someone, or think you do, and then you find out...” She took a long shaky breath, and Gabe held his, waiting. “I think Michael Clark had something to do with it.”

  Gable blinked in surprise but hoped he showed no other outward sign. Maybe Joy would be of some help after all. “With the attacks on Kate?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go on.”

  “Would you... There’s some white wine in the fridge. I think I need something stronger now.”

  “Sure.” Gabe went into the kitchen, pulled down a stemmed glass and grabbed the bottle of Pinot Grigio from the refrigerator. He moved as fast as he could, not wanting to leave Joy alone any longer than he had to. When he returned Joy was sitting on the couch, an open purse beside her. She snapped it closed as he approached.

  “I thought I had some tissues in there,” she said with a sad smile.

  A box of tissues sat on the lamp table at the far end of the couch, and Gabe reached for it. Joy seemed surprised that it was there, then blew her nose daintily and crushed a tissue in her fist. He poured her a small glass of wine and sat down beside her again, though not quite as close as before. This time she turned toward him and moved a little closer, so that her knee was resting against his thigh.

  “So,” he prompted. “Mi
chael Clark.”

  “He worshipped the ground Drew walked on,” she said after a long sip of wine. “He would do anything for Drew. He always acted as though he liked Kate, but I’m sure he was as pissed off at her as the rest of us, especially after that awful news story. How could he not be, when you look at all the work Drew put into everything he did? Michael was always there, working right beside him. In the last two years I was there too.”

  “Did Michael resent you?”

  She gave a harsh laugh. “Oh, yes. He tried hard not to show it, but over time it became more and more obvious that my presence in Drew’s life threatened him.”

  Gabe settled into the couch as before, arms opened wide across the back cushions, as relaxed as could be. “Was he in love with Drew?” he asked.

  Joy met his gaze. “I think he was, yes.”

  “Was Drew in love with him?”

  Joy gave him an incredulous look. “Of course not. That was the problem. You see? That may be what ultimately sent Michael over the edge. Not only couldn’t he have Drew, it killed him that the two sponsors of the bill were Drew and me. He’s a very ambitious man, Gabe. I happen to know that he wants to be Deputy Director of Global Intelligence, but not if it means he has to work for—” She stopped.

  “For you,” he said.

  She lowered her head for a moment, then looked at him. “Okay, I admit it. But you can’t say a word outside this room. The president and I have had some preliminary discussions about me being the Director of Global Intelligence if the bill passes both houses.”

  Gabe mimicked zipping his lips. “Mum’s the word. So, what makes you say Michael had it in for Kate?”

  Her eyes slid away. “I just think he did.”

  “Is that all you’ve got?”

  She hesitated. “No, there’s more.” She took another long swallow of wine and set down her glass. “I was in Drew’s office the other day—Michael has taken to using his desk. And I found some things—notes, phone numbers. I think he was involved with some rough characters.”

  The innocent-looking blond guy’s face—Tom?—appeared in Gabe’s mind as he refilled Joy’s glass. “Who were these rough characters?”