One Wrong Move, page 23
“You’re certain?” Christian said.
“Positive.” Veronica nodded.
Andi looked at Christian and smiled. They’d just connected their mystery woman to Tad well before the heists.
Seemed Tad had some explaining to do.
FIFTY-ONE
ANDI OFFERED to drive next, and Christian gladly let her. He sat back against the passenger seat of the Equinox as they waited at Sonic for their food to come out. Andi, of course, had wanted to bypass lunch and keep going, but she . . . they both needed to eat.
The server skated out with their tray, spinning in a circle before reaching the vehicle. She handed Andi the food and wished them a good day.
“Okay, two cheeseburgers and tater tots for you,” Andi said, digging in the brown paper bag and handing the items to Christian. “And one cherry limeade.”
“Thanks,” he said.
“Onion ring?” she asked, holding one of hers up.
“Thanks,” he said. “Tot?” He held the paper container bursting with tots over for her.
“Thanks.” She popped one in her mouth, then took a sip of limeade. “So what do you think? You believe Veronica and Brad? If so, it doesn’t make sense she’d conspire to have the galleries robbed, but there’s always the possibility they are just covering their backs.”
“Meaning?” He popped a tot in his mouth.
“They didn’t personally rob it. I think we can be certain on that from the video footage of the heist. It was two men and neither resembled Brad’s physique. But that doesn’t mean that they didn’t hire someone.”
“Yeah.” Christian sighed. “I’m not feeling it, but we can’t ignore the fact that they have motive with Tad cutting Brad out and trying to do the same with Veronica.”
“Rolling with the hypothetical possibility . . .” Andi said. “The question becomes, are they in it for the insurance money or for the money the fenced items bring in?”
“I suspect they are fine for money, but, then again, even when everything on the surface indicates wealth, you just never know. Not until you start digging. Let me call Greyson, see if he can check into their financials. Determine if it was worth the risk in their minds to set this up.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’m not feeling it either, but it’s always better to dig than just brush stuff off.”
Christian placed the call to Greyson, and after a handful of minutes, hung up.
“We set?” she asked.
“Yep. Greyson’s on the financials. And Riley is going to take a ride out to the inn where Veronica and Brad said they saw Tad and our mystery woman to see if any of the staff recognize her. If she was a guest. Anything about her would be more than we have.” So far no hits were coming back from her picture on the news.
“Agreed.”
He blew a strand of hair from his forehead, but it just fell back in place. He tried again, and she chuckled.
“Here, let me,” she said. She scooted toward him and brushed the unruly hair from his forehead, then ran her fingers through his hair to help it blend back in.
An unexpected wave of tingling shot through him from the gentle touch of her hand.
Their eyes held a moment, and she pulled her hand back, biting her bottom lip. “I’m so glad . . .” She cleared the emotion bubbling up her throat and tried again. “I’m so glad Sarah saw the woman and was able to do the sketch. I think it’s the key that’s going to open the first door we need to walk through.”
“Agreed, and Riley’s good. She’ll get the information we need.”
Christian’s cell trilled. “I hope it’s Deckard and Harper with an update,” he said, retrieving his phone and putting it on speaker at the sight of Joel’s name. “Hey, Joel. Andi’s here with me. Okay to put you on speaker? We’ve got interesting news for you.”
“Of course. Hey, Andi,” Joel said. “So before I get to my news, tell me about yours?”
Christian raked a hand through his hair, wishing it was Andi doing so. He longed for her touch, but now was not the time to be focusing on how wonderful she felt. He cleared his throat and attempted to clear his mind. “Did you know Brad and Veronica are having an affair?”
“Seriously?”
“Yep. Witnessed it ourselves.”
“Uh,” Joel said, letting the word hang in the air a moment before continuing, “that couldn’t have been pretty.”
“Yeah . . .” Andi said. “Most definitely not.”
“What’s your news?” Christian asked.
“Unfortunately, not good,” Joel said.
“Oh?” Christian stiffened, wondering what more could be coming.
“The sketch we’ve been showing on the news. We got a hit.”
Christian frowned. That wasn’t bad news unless . . .
“The sketch matches a Jane Doe found in Pecos.”
“Our mystery woman?”
“I’m afraid so,” Joel said.
Another murder victim. He feared how many more there would be before this case was over and the killer behind bars.
“I’m so glad Christian sent Cara someplace safe,” Andi said, “or I fear the same would have happened to her.”
“Agreed,” Joel said. “The cops in Pecos that found her took the mystery woman’s prints. . . .”
Please let there have been a hit.
“Her name is Julia Brown. Last known address was in L.A.”
Christian arched a brow. “L.A.?”
“Yes. But speaking to her former landlord, she left Cali about six months back.”
“No idea how she got here, why she was here, or where she was staying?”
“No on the first two. On the third . . . given the seedy motel her body was found in, I’m going with her being a transient.”
“You think she came for the score?” Christian asked, his gut saying that was precisely it.
“That seems to fit what we know, but it’s not enough to make a formal declaration. I’m going to follow up with Tad regarding this new evidence. I’m sure you both want to talk to him too. I’ll find out his current location, let you know, and we can meet up there.”
“Thanks, Joel. We won’t step on your toes,” Christian said.
“I never worry about that. See you two there.”
Christian looked over at Andi after he and Joel hung up. She had an impish smile on her face.
He reached over and cupped her cheek, running the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip. “What’s that mischievous smile for?”
Her smile widened as she leaned into his hold. “It’s time to trap Tad in a web of his own making.”
FIFTY-TWO
DECKARD HELD THE DOOR for Harper as they entered the Arizona Forensic Science Academy’s office headquarters on Lake Drive. The woman at the front desk looked up at them. Mid- to late-forties, brown hair in a braid, elegant in carriage.
“Hi,” Harper said, striding to her.
“Hello. How may I help you today?”
“We need to speak with Todd Phillips,” she said as Deckard placed himself behind her and a little to the right.
The woman scanned a calendar on her desk. “I’m sorry. I’m not showing any appointments for him today.”
“Oh, we don’t have an appointment.”
The woman lowered her glasses down on her nose, looking up at them through the upper part of the lens. “I’m afraid Mr. Phillips only takes visitors by appointment.”
“I used to work with Mr. Phillips,” Harper said with a smile. “I’m sure he’ll be okay with it. I’m Harper, by the way.”
“Temperance,” the woman said. “Pleasure.”
Not a name heard often. “And this,” Harper said, turning toward him, “is Deckard MacLeod.”
“Ma’am.” He dipped his chin.
“You called here yesterday,” she said. “I took the message.”
“Unfortunately, Todd never returned our call, but Deckard here is a private investigator,” Harper explained, easing into a casual vibe with Temperance. Much better than the aloof detachment when they’d first walked in. Harper had a way of putting people at ease.
“A private investigator?” Temperance’s penciled-in brown brows arched.
“Yes, ma’am. We’re investigating a murder case,” he said. “We really need to speak with Mr. Phillips.”
Temperance leaned forward, rising up from her desk to lean against the front counter separating them from her. “Is he in some sort of trouble?” she whispered, pushing her glasses back up on her nose.
“Possibly,” Deckard said. “That’s what we’re here to determine.”
She smiled. “I’ll go get him. Y’all wait here.”
“Well, she changed her tune when she heard Todd could be in trouble,” Deckard said.
“He’s certainly not a pleasant man to work for,” Harper said.
“Sounds like it.” Deckard slipped his hands into his Dockers pockets and walked the length of the lobby, praying they’d get answers or at least a feel for whether the man had any involvement in setting Andi up. Setting Andi up. When exactly had he started believing her? He was getting ahead of himself. There were more facts to examine, but he couldn’t ignore what he’d learned thus far, and for the first time since he was hired by Mitch Abrams’s family, he was questioning the man’s innocence. What if he’d been wrong? What if he’d gotten a guilty man out of prison? His shoulders tensed as he stared out the glass wall overlooking a picnic area. Andi being innocent and Mitch being innocent didn’t have to be mutually exclusive. Did they?
A tall man with curly brown hair, green eyes, and a hard-set jaw walked into the lobby.
“Harper,” the man said with a frown. “What are you doing here?”
“We need to talk to you,” she said, indicating Deckard.
“Who’s this?” Todd flicked his chin at him.
His tight muscles coiled more. “Private Investigator Deckard MacLeod,” he said.
Todd’s carriage stiffened. “What’s this about?”
“We need to talk to you about Anne Marlowe’s murder,” he said, not pulling any punches.
“Oh,” Todd said, an odd relief crossing his face. “This is about Miranda, isn’t it.”
“Yes,” Harper said, straightening.
Todd looked at Deckard, a smug expression on his face. “She dragged you into this, didn’t she.”
He rocked back on his heels. “I offered to take the case.”
Todd rolled his head back on a humorless laugh. “What case? She botched the job. End of story.” His small eyes narrowed nearly to slits. “I knew you looked familiar. You’re the one that questioned us at the lab. You and Mitch’s lawyer.”
“Mitch’s? Sounds like you knew him.”
“No.” Todd shook his head. “Why would you say that?”
“Using a first name so casually usually denotes familiarity.”
“It was a big case and a big turnover. I read about it in the news. Wait a minute. You were the one who proved Miranda botched the job and misplaced evidence, so why are you here about her now?”
“I’m working for her,” he said.
Todd chuckled, the sound grating on his nerves. “Playing both sides . . .” Todd said. “Interesting. You must just take whatever case comes along.”
Deckard’s jaw clenched. “Hardly.”
“Well, I’m afraid you’re wasting your time on this one.” Todd looked at Harper. Was he implying the case or the lady?
“I don’t think so.” In either case.
“Really.” Todd linked his arms over his chest. “I can wager you haven’t found a shred of evidence showing Miranda didn’t screw up.”
“Actually, we have.” Anticipation shot through Deckard, awaiting Todd’s reaction.
The man’s cocky grin faded. “What?”
“Yeah.” He’d unsettled Todd. Time to turn up the heat. “It’s turning out to be a really interesting case.”
Todd tugged the lobe of his right ear. “How . . . how so?”
“Don’t you worry about the particulars.” Deckard smiled. He had Todd right where he wanted him. “However, we, of course, want to hear your side.”
“My side?” Todd tugged his earlobe harder.
Interesting tell.
Todd shifted his stance. “I don’t have a side in this.”
“Your input,” Deckard said. Todd was going to shut down on them if he pushed like this, so he switched tactics. “I’d like your insight on the matter.”
“Oh.” Todd’s stiff shoulders eased a smidge. He glanced at his watch. “I suppose I can do that, but we’ll have to be quick. I’ve got a meeting in five.”
“Five minutes it is,” Deckard said.
“Let’s head out to the picnic tables,” Todd said, gesturing to the back glass door. “It’s more private out there.”
“After you,” Deckard said. He glanced back at Harper and winked. They’d get what they needed from Todd.
She smiled.
Settling around one of the round red picnic tables, Deckard leaned forward, not wasting any time. “Let’s go back to the night of Anne Marlowe’s murder.”
Todd shifted. “What about it?”
“My understanding is that the supervisor, Kevin Gaines, was out sick.”
“Yes.” Todd’s tone shifted to curt.
“You covered for him,” Deckard said, as Harper indicated with a soft nod for him to continue to run with it.
“Yes,” Todd clipped again.
“And is it correct that you’d never covered for a supervisor before?”
“Who told you that?” Todd’s piercing gaze landed on Harper. “Her?”
“Among other people.” Andi counted, and Greg had chimed in as well.
“So?” Todd shrugged a flippant shoulder. “I didn’t see any sense calling someone else in when I was already there.”
“How’d the night go?” he asked, resting his forearms on the metal table.
“Fine.”
It was amazing, the man was stiffening more by the second.
“Can you elaborate?” Deckard said. “Anything out of the ordinary happen?”
“Not that I noticed.”
Todd looked ready to flee, so he turned up the heat. “Did you work any of the evidence that night?”
Todd looked at Harper, irritation etched on his face. He knew she could call him out if he lied, if it occurred while Andi was there or when Harper returned to the lab after being at Anne’s crime scene.
Todd tapped the table. “Yes.” His voice twitched. “I helped out.”
“There were two murder cases that night. Which one did you work?”
“Why does that matter?”
“It’s a simple question,” Deckard said.
“I helped Pam work the Woodward case.” The man was losing patience. He needed to hurry. Switch back and forth between topics or he’d lose him now.
“Did you happen to notice Miranda doing anything incorrectly?”
Todd hesitated, then said, “No, but she obviously did. Now, I believe our time is up.”
“Sure. Thanks for your time,” Deckard said, standing as Todd did. Harper followed suit. “Great job you got here,” he added. “Impressive.” Butter him up a little.
The hint of a proud smile curled on Todd’s thin lips. “Thank you.”
He strolled beside Todd as they made their way toward the building. Might as well poke the bear now that their time was up. “Interesting you beat Greg out of the promotion, given his credentials and all.”
“Clearly the hiring committee was impressed with my credentials and offered me the job.” The same line they’d heard from Ms. Cavet during their call on the way over.
“I’ve always heard references can make all the difference,” Deckard said. “You must have received some great ones.” He forced a smile.
Todd rested a hand against his chest. “I’m humbled to say I did.”
“From whom?” he asked point-blank.
Todd’s jaw flickered, or at least the muscle in it. “That’s none of your business.”
“Why? You got something to hide?” he pushed.
Todd laughed, but it was cold, awkward. “What would I possibly have to hide?”
“Hmm,” Deckard said as they filed back into the lobby. “That’s the question now, isn’t it.”
“This meeting is over.” Without a good-bye, Todd turned heel and disappeared through the door he’d initially come out of.
After thanking Temperance, Deckard and Harper stepped out into the warm afternoon sun.
“Well, he was none too happy,” Harper said as they made the way to his vehicle.
“Which, to me, indicates his probable guilt,” Deckard said.
“You think Todd was the one who corrupted the DNA sample?”
He pulled his keys from his pocket and clicked the doors open. “I’d bet money on him.”
“I agree,” Harper said as Deckard opened the car door for her. “We really shook him up.”
Deckard smiled wide.
“What’s the smile for?” she asked with a curious one of her own.
“It means we’re rattling the right cages.”
FIFTY-THREE
CHRISTIAN AND ANDI ENTERED Tad’s Jeopardy Falls gallery following Joel’s call to meet him there. Moving through the gallery, they located Tad and Joel in the back office.
“What are they doing here?” Tad asked as soon as they entered the room.
“I think Andi should be here to hear your confession,” Joel said, resting one boot on the bottom chair rail where he sat.
“My confession?” Tad chuckled, then, at their silence, his laughter died. “What confession?”
“The one you’re going to give us,” Joel said.
“I’m not going to give you anything, because I didn’t do anything.”
“We know you met with her three months ago,” Joel said.
“Her, who?”
Joel slid the picture of the woman, as she was found murdered, in front of Tad.
Tad gagged and covered his mouth.
“And here’s Alex.” Joel slid the picture of the poor girl toward him.
Tad gagged harder and bolted to the bathroom.
After Christian overheard far more than he ever wanted to, Tad returned, pale as a ghost.
