That wasn’t preposterous. What Carvel hinted about his criminal activities could be useful to his wife in a divorce case.
“Look,” Kenzi said, “I’ll offer Lombardi a break on the marital property division percentages if he agrees to testify for you in your murder case. I think he’ll go for it, if we promise to keep him safe. Once your case is over, you can testify for me. I’ll add you to the witness list. If he thinks he’s in danger of being arrested for money laundering, he’ll agree to anything. Might even lead me to his stashed assets, deliberately or unintentionally.”
“You need to look for an LLC registered in Wyoming.”
“Brilliant. See? This is working well already. He’ll pay through the nose, even though I agreed to a reduction of the division percentages.”
“Sounds good in principle. But did you find Carvel? I haven’t been able—”
“That’s because you don’t have a Clan.”
“You’ve lost me.”
“Do you know how many photos are uploaded to the internet every day? How many videos? Billions. It’s virtually impossible to step outside without ending up in the background of someone else’s video.”
“You combed through billions of photos?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I bought some high-end facial recognition software. And I posted images to my Clan. Someone spotted him yesterday buying groceries and followed him back to his apartment. I confirmed that it was Lombardi.”
“That’s actually...impressive.”
“Well yes,” she said, mock-blushing for the camera. “I am rather impressive. That’s my superpower. But the point is, I’ve found Lombardi.”
“And you just said that live on the internet, so he’s probably already packing.”
“I have detectives watching his place. He’s not going anywhere.”
“This might actually work. Thank you for your help.”
“It’s my pleasure. Want Carvel’s address?”
He glanced at his dripping swimsuit. “I don’t actually have pen and paper on me.”
She grinned. “That’s okay. If your brain is as tight as your abs, you’ll remember.”
Chapter 22
Dan gathered the team for a pretrial meeting. As usual, he’d made a little something to gnaw on while they laid their final plans. It seemed to improve the quality of the meetings.
He tried not to be depressed about the fact that the biggest fan of his cooking, Jimmy, would not be partaking. He still refused to have anything to do with this case. He was upstairs in his private office but wouldn’t come down. Not even to listen.
Dan hoped Jimmy came around before this nightmare trial began. He’d never seen Jimmy behave like this. He was always amiable. Upbeat. He was the one who reminded them there was nothing wrong with having a little fun now and again.
While Dan stirred vegetables in the sauté pan, he felt two arms reach around his waist.
“Hey, good lookin’. Whatcha got cookin’?”
Maria. “Just a little stir fry. Nothing fancy.”
“Good thinking.” She nuzzled the crook of his neck. “You don’t want to be talking to a bunch of hangry lawyers.”
“Amen. I think I need more diced tomato.”
“I can help with that.” She took two tomatoes from the veggie basket and grabbed a knife.
“Uhh...” He clenched his teeth.
“Stop. I know I’m not much of a cook, but I am capable of slicing a tomato.”
“Okay, but...don’t use that knife.”
“It’s a sharp knife. Made for slicing and dicing.”
“But it will smoosh the tomato. Use a bread knife.” He handed her one. “Works much better. Slices through the tomato clean.”
She took the knife. “What a fussbudget. I can’t imagine—” She stopped short. “Okay, that does actually work better.”
He smiled.
She pointed the knife at him. “If you say, ‘I told you so...’”
He returned his attention to his stir fry. “I would never.”
* * *
The team assembled around the kitchen bar and Dan distributed the plates. “Where’s Dinah?”
“She has class,” Maria explained. “I didn’t think you’d want to wait. I’ll fill her in later. I’ll give her the pep talk, too.”
“What makes you think I’m going to give a pep talk?”
“Maybe ‘pep talk’ isn’t the right phrase. ‘Dramatization of the impossible odds against us and the dire consequences if we fail.’”
“I would never do that.”
“You do it every time.” Maria smiled. “And we love it. Wouldn’t be the same without it. So please proceed.”
He tried not to show any irritation, but it required effort. “Anyway, without being...dramatic...we are not in good shape. To be blunt, we’re not ready to go to trial. We served Carvel and swung a deal, so he’s agreed to testify. Says he’ll tell the truth about the meeting at Beachcombers. But I fear that’s not going to be enough.”
“Could we ask the court for a continuance?” Garrett asked.
“I was the one who asked the judge for the earliest possible setting.”
“So you have to tuck tail and say you were wrong. It’s not the end of the world.”
“I don’t think that’s in our client’s best interest. And I’m not sure the judge would agree to it. Smulders seems determined to show his mettle. He’s had a personality makeover or something.”
“He’s matured. Gained confidence.”
“I guess. At any rate, we have to move forward.”
“Have you hired security? Carvel thinks the cartel is gunning for him. And he’s probably right.”
“We will take every possible precaution to ensure his safety. The cartel isn’t going to whack him while he’s on the witness stand.”
“Are you sure? There is some precedent here...”
Dan knew what Garrett was talking about. Only a few months before, a courtroom sheriff had been blackmailed into killing a cartel informant while he testified. “We have to call him. He’ll back up Sweeney’s account of the meeting. Let’s just hope for the best.”
“You’ve given Sweeney the speech, right?” Garrett asked. “The one about how if he withholds information from his lawyers, he puts his case in jeopardy.”
“Of course. Zero impact. Sweeney is so accustomed to keeping secrets he’s barely aware he does it anymore. Just second nature.”
“He needs to get over that. If he doesn’t want to finish his distinguished career with a lethal injection.”
“I know. But here’s the thing.” Dan wasn’t sure he should say this aloud. He hadn’t worked it out completely in his head. “Sweeney is not a stupid man. So anytime it appears that he’s making a seemingly stupid move, I have to wonder what’s really going on.” Especially since his family was involved. He had adjusted to knowing that his father committed a murder—to prevent a murder. To protect his wife and stepdaughter. But he was convinced Sweeney was in the deceased’s cop car that night. Why?
“I can say this with certainty,” Dan continued. “I don’t believe Sweeney committed this crime. Killing a man who was helping him. Dismembering his body for no apparent reason. Stashing it in his private freezer and leaving it there when he was expecting the police. Sweeney is not stupid. Hell, no one is that stupid. He’s being framed.”
“Then we’re honor-bound to fight hard to get him off the hook.”
“I know. But how? Even if Carvel testifies, it’s not enough. The forensic evidence paints a damning portrait. The prosecution has eyewitnesses and motive and...if we don’t come up with something more soon...Conrad Sweeney is going down for good.”
Chapter 23
Carvel walked fast and whenever possible, kept to the shadows.
He never even thought of himself as Lombardi anymore. That name was a part of his past, like the wife and the daughter and the Seattle condo and...all those dreams. These days, all he dreamed about was staying ali
ve.
He didn’t like going out. He knew he was being watched. Ever since he’d been outed by his wife’s mouthpiece, he felt eyes burning down upon him at all times. It wasn’t paranoia. It was reality. If a divorce lawyer could find him, how long until the cartel did?
But he was out of Wheat Thins, out of peanut butter, and worst of all, out of smokes. Despite all he had to handle right now, he still felt compelled to put cancer sticks in his mouth. But these days, inhaling smoke was the only comfort he got. And he couldn’t pretend that tobacco might kill him anymore. With so many people gunning for him, something else was bound to get him long before cancer did.
He picked up his supplies at the convenience store near his flophouse, then turned around and started back, still moving fast.
It wasn’t that late but it was dark, and the sidewalk and streets seemed deserted. Which normally he would consider a good thing. But just this once, he might feel safer with more company.
He passed a pawnshop that had once been one of his favorite stops. He liked to browse through other people’s trash to find treasures. But not today. Too risky.
His father had never believed he would be successful at anything. More than once his father had told him what a loser he was. Even after he got his B. Arch. Daddy couldn’t get past the fact that he had a son, not a clone. If you didn’t do what he did, you weren’t worth anything. The old man probably gloated when Carvel lost his job with the Seattle firm.
What an ego that man had. Well, Daddy, I’m sure you wouldn’t approve of me now, but the truth is, I could’ve saved the world from the zombie apocalypse and you wouldn’t approve of me. I made a life for myself on my own terms.
He crossed to the street where he lived. A chill raced down his back. The sun set early tonight and the ocean breeze was strong. He got a sudden shiver. These days, it seemed like he spent most of the time shivering. Even in his sleep.
He headed toward his apartment building.
Someone was waiting for him.
Tall. Overcoat, which looked ridiculous. This was Florida.
He took a closer look.
The man wasn’t wearing it for comfort. He was wearing it to hide what he was packing.
Carvel moved away in the opposite direction. Had the man seen him?
A glance over his shoulder confirmed his fear. The overcoat man was coming after him.
No point in subtlety. He ripped into high speed, running as fast as he could. He turned left, avoiding the bright lights of the liquor store and the streetlamps. He came to a corner, made a quick judgment about which path looked darker, and took it.
He spotted an alleyway splitting the block. There was no time for careful deliberation. If he could disappear, the man might give up the chase.
He took the alley. He veered hard and ran as fast as he could.
Right into a brick wall.
It was too tall to climb and there was nothing to hold onto anyway. He looked on both sides, hoping for an escape path. Side doors? Windows? Even a Dumpster?
Nothing. He was trapped. He started back the way he came—
The overcoat man appeared, silhouetted by the faint glow from a nearby lamp.
If Carvel had any doubts about what his future held—and he didn’t—they would’ve disappeared when he saw the man’s face.
“You don’t have to do this.” Carvel held his hands up, as if somehow that might stop him. Why hadn’t he brought a gun? Or even a crowbar? “I’m not going to squeal. I would never do that.”
The man kept coming.
“Are you worried about that subpoena? It’s just a piece of paper. They can’t make me talk.”
The man moved closer.
“Listen to me. Your boss wants me to design his mansion? Fine. I’ll do it. Anything he wants.”
The man kept walking.
Carvel backed up against the brick wall. There was nowhere he could go. “Take me to Hernandez. Let me explain. I can clear up everything.”
The man reached into his coat pocket and slowly withdrew a large object. It wasn’t until he raised it over his head that a faint glint of light told Carvel what it was.
A hammer.
* * *
Dinah wondered whether she had made the right choice, walking home from class. Dan warned her not to make the mistake of thinking that because this was a beach town, everyone was a laid-back surfer. They had crime. Too much.
Like she needed the warning. She suspected she knew more about the pennyante crime in this town than he did. She’d lived in and among it for far too long. He might know about the high-profile murders and crooked politicians and white-collar chiselers. But she knew more about the real people. The ones who weren’t evil, just trying to survive. Far too often, they were forced to take actions they’d rather avoid.
She knew how to take care of herself. And she wasn’t going to do anything stupid. Not now, when she was enjoying life more than she had in years.
Years? Try ever. She enjoyed school. She liked hanging out at the office, being involved in their cases. It was exciting.
What she liked best of all, of course, was the fact that Dan trusted her. And loved her. She could see it in his eyes.
She hadn’t done a thing to deserve it. But there it was, just the same.
How could life be better than that?
She couldn’t walk all the way back to Snell Isle, but there was a bus she could catch nearby and that would take her most of the way. Dan had offered to buy her a car, but come on. At some point, she was going to start feeling like a complete leech. She’d respectfully declined.
Without telling him that, actually, she didn’t know how to drive.
She turned a corner and almost collided with someone.
A man in an overcoat who did not appear to be moving.
Was he waiting for her?
“Sorry,” she said, and tried to squeeze past.
He grabbed her arm and held her in place.
“Excuse me.” Not the first time a man had grabbed her without consent, but that didn’t make her like it any better. She squirmed, trying to break his grasp.
“Let—go of me.” She shoved him hard, but he still didn’t release her. “Mister, if you don’t let go of me right now, I will scream my head off.”
“If you like,” he said quietly.
“I have a phone in my pocket, and it’s on. My friends are listening to this.”
“I doubt that.” He reached into his coat pocket and slowly withdrew something about a foot long.
A hammer.
And it was covered in blood.
“I hope one of the friends listening is your brother,” he said, breathing heavily. “We are sending him a message. And we want to make sure he gets it.”
The Color of Justice is Gray
Chapter 24
Dan paced back and forth in the living room of their office, trying not to collide with Jake Kakazu, who was basically doing the same thing in the opposite direction. Kakazu yakked into his phone, calling in favors, talking to every available officer. Dan tried to eavesdrop, but following one side of a conversation was difficult. All he could gather was the gist.
No one had a clue what happened to Dinah.
Kakazu thrust his cell phone into his pocket. “Sorry. No one’s seen her.”
“People don’t just vanish. There must be some explanation.”
“Is it possible she met a friend? Decided to go out for a drink?”
“All night?”
“You know how it goes. You start having fun, time gets away from you. Maybe she decided to crash somewhere.”
“She would’ve called. Or texted.”
“Sometimes people forget when they're tired or tipsy.”
“She would’ve called. Or texted.”
“You can’t be—”
Maria cut in. She sat on the semicircular sofa, not moving but looking just as agitated as Dan. “I know Dinah, too. We’ve spent time together every day since she joined the firm. S
he’s not a little kid. She’s a grown adult and knows we care about her. She would not fail to come home without telling someone. If she could.”
Kakazu didn’t argue.
Neither did Dan. He knew Dinah and Maria had become fast friends. It was probably conceivable that Dinah might run off on a whim and neglect to contact her brother. But her bestie? Never.
“Does she have a cellphone?” Jake asked. “Have you tried tracking her that way?”
“Yes. Garrett has been doing everything he can. Dinah has an iPhone, but as far as we can tell, she never activated Find My Phone or anything like it.”
“Describe her route home for me again,” Kakazu said. They’d already covered this, but he supposed it was possible the repetition might reveal something fresh.
“She takes the bus. I offered to get her a car, but she declined. I should’ve insisted.”
“You couldn’t know this would happen,” Maria said.
“I could’ve. I should’ve.”
“She didn’t want to be a burden. You’ve already done so much for her.”
Dan slammed his fist into a sofa pillow. “I was asleep at the gate.”
“Dan, stop.” Maria wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “This is not your fault.”
“Are you sure? I’m not. How can you be sure when we don’t even know what happened?”
“I know this is not your fault.”
Kakazu glanced at his phone, reading something. “I’ve contacted her instructor. Class ended at the usual time. No one observed anything unusual about Dinah.” He looked up. “And by the way, her teacher says Dinah is the class superstar. Thinks she should go to law school after she finishes her legal assistant training.”
Nice to hear. But she couldn’t go to law school if...
“I’ve sent officers to interview all the bus drivers on duty in that area around the time she got out of class. No one saw her.”
“Then she never got on a bus,” Maria murmured.
“Looks that way to me. I’ve got detectives scouring the area.”
“Have you—” Dan’s voice choked. “Have you called the hospitals? Clinics?”
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