“Rick, there is something else going on here.”
“If so, I don’t know what it is. We need to let the system work. If Sean is innocent, Houston PD will prove it.”
“If?” She didn’t expect that from someone she trusted. Who Sean trusted.
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t. Sean didn’t kill Mona Hill, justified or unjustified. But someone is making it seem like he did, and chances are the gun they found in his plane will match ballistics.”
“I know you’re upset.”
“It’s not just Sean! It’s Brad, Kane, Nate! Everyone is in danger or trouble, this isn’t a coincidence, Rick.”
He didn’t say anything.
“You know it, don’t you? Are you not telling me something?”
“I don’t know anything more than you do,” he said. “I’ll keep in contact with Houston, make sure they fully understand that I will have everyone’s head if Sean is injured. I have to go. I’m sorry.”
He hung up.
She wanted to throw the phone across the room, but didn’t. Why was Rick so … ambivalent? Yes, he was an assistant director in the FBI and he had to follow rules, but he could have said that he knew Sean was innocent.
If.
There was no if. Sean wouldn’t kill anyone in cold blood.
Not like her.
She put her head on Sean’s desk and closed her eyes. She had killed before. In the line of duty, but she didn’t count that. To protect the boys in Mexico, she had killed those who held them captive. And she didn’t count that.
But nearly ten years ago, she had killed her rapist in cold blood.
He was unarmed.
No one blamed her for killing Adam Scott. He’d killed dozens of women and eluded the authorities for more than twenty years.
But she didn’t have to pull the trigger six times.
It haunted her.
No, it doesn’t.
What haunted her was that she didn’t regret it. Adam Scott had stolen so much from her. He’d facilitated multiple rapes. Humiliated her. Hurt her. Tortured her brother Dillon. Put her brother Patrick in a coma. Expected her to come with him, to replace a woman he had killed years ago.
She was glad he was dead. No regrets.
It had taken her years to learn that she wasn’t broken. Years to accept that she was worthy of love, worthy to love. Her brothers had trained her, helped her heal, taken care of her, but it was Sean who gave her a future. Melted her icy interior so she could love.
A man like Sean would never kill in cold blood.
She had to prove it. If the evidence was overwhelmingly against him, she had to prove who really killed Mona Hill.
And someone took Nate and Brad off her team. So you’re alone. Isolated.
Yes, it was connected. And maybe that would be their downfall.
Whoever they were.
Chapter Twelve
HOUSTON, TEXAS
The booking process was hell.
They’d taken his belt and shoelaces, though he wasn’t put in prison attire.
They’d taken his phone, his wallet, his wedding ring.
They’d photographed him front and side. Printed him. Took a sample of his DNA.
He was demoralized, reduced to a number. But even after all the humiliation, the worst was when they walked him down the hall to talk to his attorney. He overhead one cop say “That’s Banner’s collar, the john who whacked a prostitute. Wife’s a fed.”
A john. Killed a prostitute. The narrative destroyed him inside. It was untrue, and he was usually good about not caring what others thought of him.
But not today. Not here. Not now.
He was cuffed to the table. “Your lawyer is here, she’ll be brought in momentarily,” the guard said, then left.
He hadn’t been allowed to call Lucy. They said later. When was later? He needed to explain to her, tell her everything. He hated that he hadn’t told her about Mona on Monday night. He should have. Why didn’t he? Why didn’t he just say something?
Because you weren’t sure this wasn’t a trick, a trap, a scam of some sort.
Yet Sean believed the note was real. Which meant that Elise either killed Mona herself, or had someone do it for her.
To frame him. To destroy him—and destroy Lucy.
The guard brought in a woman. She was petite and wore four-inch heels. Still wasn’t tall. Dark skin, dark hair, dark eyes … and walked as if she was an Amazon, not a leprechaun.
“Sean Rogan, Felicity Duncan,” she said in a Texas accent. Not too thick, but definitely native Texas.
“Take the cuffs off him, Benny, will you?”
“Policy is that murder suspects require—”
“Take the cuffs off.”
Benny complied. Sean’s eyes burned.
He would not cry, but he hated the cuffs even more than he was going to hate the cage.
“Thank you,” he said when the guard left.
“He’s following procedure, but he knows I can go over his head and get my way, why fight me on it?” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She put a folder on the table in front of her and sat down.
“What happened, Mr. Rogan?”
“I was arrested for Mona Hill’s murder. I didn’t kill her. I need you to believe me.”
“No, you don’t. You need me to be the best damn defense lawyer on the planet, and I’m close to it, understand?”
He told her everything, beginning to end. He had to—only then would she understand why he couldn’t tell the cops everything.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” she said.
He glared at her. She meant well, she was trying to be supportive, but the more he ran through that night, the more he realized he’d been set up. Was Mona herself party to setting him up? Not to her murder—she valued her life. But maybe … maybe she had known more than she’d told him.
He rubbed his eyes. Speculation wasn’t going to help him right now.
“I am going to push hard to have you arraigned and released tonight,” Felicity said. “But it’s not going to happen. Not on a capital case where you have the means to run.”
“I’m not going to run.”
“Irrelevant to Banner. And he believes it, so they plan to arraign you on Monday. They think they’ll be able to work a no bail deal, but I’m not going to let that happen. Bail might be high, but RCK is good for it, and I know you have the means to cover it if necessary. They might ask for an ankle monitor, I’ll give in on that provided you’re allowed to return to San Antonio. They’ll push for house arrest—I’ll fight that, it’ll be fifty-fifty.”
“I’m innocent.”
“I’m telling you what they’re going to do, and what I’m going to do. You’ll be out Monday.”
Sean appreciated her confidence, but this was a setup. There was a reason he was here, today, a reason he was being framed for murder. Either they would find a way to keep him until trial, or he’d be dead this weekend.
“I’m being framed.”
“Our job is not to prove who killed Mona. Our job is to prove they don’t have a case against you. You need to tell the police the facts. Answer their questions.”
“No.”
“Sean, it’s in your best interest to be as forthcoming as possible. I’ll make sure they don’t stray off track. That’s my job, to protect your interests. But you’re suspected of a felony murder. You were with the victim during the likely time of death. You need to tell them why.”
“No.”
“Sean—”
“They don’t need to know why. All they need to know is that she was alive when I left.”
“And if that gun they found in your plane is the murder weapon, what you say isn’t going to matter much to the jury.”
“I didn’t fire it. I haven’t fired a gun in over a week—last time I was at the gun range, Lucy was practicing before her requalification with the FBI. Nearly two weeks ago—two weeks on Sunday. I was tryin
g out some different guns there. I didn’t even shoot my own gun.” He frowned. Could one of those guns he’d used been the murder weapon? His prints might be on it. Yet … they were regulated. No one could walk off with it. And latent prints were really hard to get off a gun. Maybe a shell casing … but the range was owned by a retired cop, they wouldn’t let just anyone walk in there and collect the brass.
He was getting way too paranoid.
“There’s no reason you can’t tell the police why you were at Mona Hill’s apartment. She called you because she felt threatened by Elise Hunt. You went to give her security advice. You left because she agreed to bring in a bodyguard.”
“And they’re going to ask why Mona would call me.”
“We don’t have to answer that. I know what I’m doing here, Sean. I understand this is a prickly situation.” She sighed. “Tell me.”
“What?”
“How you know Mona Hill and why she called you. I’m your lawyer, Sean. Unless you tell me there’s a bomb planted somewhere or you know of a murder about to happen, I’m not going to repeat anything you say. Understand? But I need to know so I can better defend you. If you leave things out, lie to me, it’s only going to make this case that much more difficult. I have a solid team of investigators who can corroborate information. They can do research. They can verify facts. Just tell me the truth.”
“I need to see Lucy.” God, he wanted to see her right now. Touch her, hold her, tell her he was sorry. He needed to explain.
“I’m working on it. They’re going to question you pretty late tonight. I’ll make sure that she’s here in the morning.”
“I want to see her now. Please.”
“They’re not going to agree.”
“Can you call her? FaceTime? Anything? I need to explain why I didn’t tell her I went to see Mona.”
The lawyer stared at him for nearly a minute, then she nodded. “I can’t leave my phone with you. I need to be here.”
“Thank you. After I tell Lucy everything, then I’ll answer all your questions, okay? But I’m telling you this flat-out: I did not kill Mona.”
* * *
When Lucy saw Sean’s face over her phone, she almost cried. He looked exhausted and worried.
“It’s so good to see your face,” he said.
“I’ll be there tonight,” she said, “as soon as your lawyer tells me it’s okay.”
“My lawyer says you won’t be able to see me until tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. They plan to question me late. Just listen, please. Believe me. I didn’t kill Mona.”
“I know.”
“I should have told you that I went to Houston on Monday.”
“Yes. But that doesn’t matter right now. JT says you called a guy, Nico, in L.A. to track Elise Hunt. Why?”
“I wish I’d just ignored Mona,” he mumbled. “I went because she claimed someone from Tobias Hunt’s network was back, and she was scared. I didn’t believe her at first, but face-to-face—yeah, I believed her. She saw Elise Hunt twice last weekend. Once on the street and once in the lobby of her apartment building. Mona was scared, and you know as well as I do that woman has never been scared of anything.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me that?”
“Because I wasn’t positive Mona wasn’t playing some game. Or that Elise got her to jerk us around. She worked for Tobias before, but I didn’t think she would do it again, especially since he’d at one time put a hit out on her. But if someone threatened her family—well, you know what I mean.”
She did.
Sean continued. “I wanted more information before I talked to you. She had a note Elise allegedly left in her apartment. A threat. I told her to go to the police, she said she couldn’t because she runs call girls, and we went around and around about that until she finally agreed to ask her bodyguard to move in for the duration, and I promised to find out what Elise was doing in Houston.
“I should have told you—but I still wasn’t positive this wasn’t Mona trying to, I don’t know … leverage me. And you’ve been so happy … I know that’s stupid, but I wanted accurate information before I dumped it on you. Nico got back to me that he found where Elise was living in Los Angeles—where her aunt had lived before she was killed—and he had eyes on her Tuesday afternoon. I asked him to keep her under surveillance. Thursday he was suspicious that she might have slipped away. I had a meeting scheduled with Elise’s warden at the detention facility this morning—that’s where I was going to go after I dropped Jesse off at school. It was scheduled at eleven.” It was already two in the afternoon.
“Why?”
“I wanted to find out who came to visit her, her call logs, her roommate, the whole nine yards.”
“He wouldn’t have given that to you.”
“She. Kathy Pine.”
“Pine? I heard her speak once. She’s impressive.”
“I can be persuasive. You need to be careful, Lucy.”
“You’re the one in jail, Sean. I talked to Rick about your safety.”
“I’m okay. I’m going to be okay.”
Lucy didn’t want to tell him about Nate and Brad, but she had to. He listened. “And Kane?”
“Jack’s in Mexico. He said he met up with Ranger and they have a lead on him.”
“I should be there helping to find him. Dammit!”
“Jack will find him.” She hoped.
“Where’s Jesse?”
“Here. I got him out of school at lunch. He’s safe and I hope Nate can stay with him this weekend. Or I’ll take him to St. Catherine’s.”
“He shouldn’t have to be dealing with this. Tell me what happened with Brad.”
She did, Sean’s expression over the phone going from concerned to very worried.
“I don’t have to tell you to be careful.”
He didn’t. “I will be there first thing in the morning. I promise.”
“I love you, Lucy. I love you so much and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything on Monday. But there was no record of Elise Hunt or Elise Hansen traveling. She likely has another ID—she had a dozen when you caught her before. Please forgive me.”
His anguish was real. “Of course I forgive you,” she said. She did, though they would have to talk about this—when he was free. When she could hold him. He’d been protecting her, but he knew better than to keep information from her. Lucy had testified against Elise and that girl had played the judge and the psychologist who testified. The shrink insisted that Elise had been abused and forced to commit crimes. Lucy didn’t know if Elise had been abused, but when she met her, that girl was running circles around everyone else. Her relationship with her psycho brother wasn’t abusive, they played off each other. Elise was just as evil as Tobias, and as smart as her sister, and that made her doubly dangerous.
The only thing they had going for them was that she was young and impulsive. Which was both good and bad.
The people they cared about were in her crosshairs.
Like Nate.
“Planting the drugs is something she would do,” Lucy said after a moment. “She wouldn’t care about the price; it would tickle her to do something that bold.”
“We have to go,” Felicity said. “I’m sorry, Lucy, but they want to interview Sean, and I shouldn’t have let him call you.”
“Wait—just wait one second.”
She ran upstairs with her phone and went into Jesse’s room.
He jumped up. It was clear he’d been crying, but he pulled himself together.
“Your dad’s on the phone.”
His face brightened.
“He doesn’t have long, one minute.” She waited until Jesse wiped his face and then handed him her phone.
“Dad?”
“Jess? Hey, I’m okay. I promise.”
“This sucks. This really sucks.”
“I know, buddy. But I have the best lawyer in Texas with me. I need you to be strong and do exactly wha
t Lucy and Nate say, okay?”
“I will, but are you going to be okay?”
“Yes. It’ll look really bad if anything happens to me.”
“That’s not funny.”
“I’m sorry. Yeah, I’m okay. I really am. I don’t like this, I’ll be honest, but I’m okay. I didn’t kill her.”
“I know.”
“The truth will come out. But you have to be diligent at all times because someone is framing me.”
“I promise, Dad. I’ll be careful.”
“I know you will. I love you, Jess.”
“Love you, Dad.” His voice cracked and he handed the phone to Lucy.
“I mean it, Sean—stay alive. We need you.”
“Right back at you, princess.”
The call ended.
“Thank you,” Jesse said.
She hugged him, then she left and went to her room. She wanted to scream, but didn’t. She swallowed it back, closed her eyes … and felt nothing.
No, that wasn’t true. She felt everything too deeply. Rage. Love. Fear.
She couldn’t afford to cry.
So she buried everything. Every emotion that threatened to take control.
The only way she could survive this—to prove Sean’s innocence, to find Brad Donnelly, to remove the cloud over Nate—was to think like the people responsible. Why? Why was this happening? Revenge? Something more sinister? Maybe this was all to distract them from a darker plan.
If she was going to figure this out, she couldn’t allow her own emotions to interfere. No emotions, no distractions, just a game plan.
The first thing she needed to do was meet with Elise Hunt’s warden.
She went back to Jesse’s room. “I need to follow up on a lead. I don’t know when Nate will be here, but do not let anyone in, understand? Nate has the codes to the house. If anyone other than Nate comes, call me, then call 911. If the person is threatening in any way, call 911 and get to the panic room.” After the house had been invaded last year Sean had a panic room installed. It was behind a false wall and could be accessed from downstairs or upstairs. Even the police hadn’t found it. It wasn’t large—downstairs was the size of a small closet with a ladder that went up to a ten-by-seven-inch space that stored weapons, a satellite phone, and rations for a week. Just in case.
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