Deadly Deceit, page 18
***
“Hi, honey,” Jolene said with forced casualness, as Christina walked sadly into the house. She flinched when she noted the tears in Christina’s eyes.
Fuck. I was hoping they would wait until after school!
“I’m sorry, Sweetheart,” she said as she pulled Christina into her arms.
Instead of melting into her wife’s comforting embrace, Christina’s head whipped up as she pinned Jolene with wide, shocked eyes. “You knew?” she asked.
Jolene nodded with a sigh. “They came and talked to me this morning. I didn’t think they would go to the school; I thought they would wait until after the school day was over.”
Christina ripped herself from Jolene’s embrace, a look of betrayal contorting her features. “And you didn’t think it pertinent to warn me? You couldn’t be bothered to send me a text and let me know that the FBI is going to arrest one of my colleagues?”
Jolene reached for Christina, hoping to calm the anger that had overtaken the shorter woman. “Honey, why are you so angry at me? They weren’t coming for you, they were after Staci. You don’t even like Staci.”
Christina scoffed and sidestepped Jolene’s reach. “Jo, they arrested her in front of me! They arrested her for attempting to kill you and Chris! You knew that, and didn’t even think to give me a heads up. How would you feel if our roles had been reversed? How would you feel if one of your colleagues was arrested, right in front of you, for trying to kill me?”
“I’d be pissed and probably try to kill them myself,” Jolene replied calmly as she cornered Christina in the kitchen.
Despite the angry tears flowing down her wife’s face, and the knowledge that Christina would reject her attempt for comfort, she stepped forward and held the brunette by the shoulders.
“That’s why I didn’t I warn you, Baby,” she said softly, “I knew you would have lost your mind, and probably done something foolish, if I’d warned you.”
Christina growled loudly in frustration. She struggled to get away from Jolene, who simply held tighter to the woman she loved.
“Let me go!” Christina commanded.
“No,” Jolene countered, shifting to pin Christina’s back against the wall, “I will never let you go, Christie, you know that. I’m sorry that you are angry with me, but now we know who has been blowing up police officers.”
Christina didn’t respond. Instead, she crumpled against Jolene’s chest and sobbed. Jolene held her wife tightly, stroking Christina’s long black curls, and whispering words of consolation. As Christina cried, her knees began to buckle, and Jolene eased them down onto the floor.
“I’m sorry, Baby. I’m so sorry,” Jolene whispered, over and over. She understood the emotional turmoil that her wife was going through, and was willing to sit there on the kitchen floor for however long it took for Christina relieve herself of those emotions.
***
Max’s eyes narrowed at the woman sitting across from her, as Oakley pulled a photo of Cade Logan from a folder. “Do you know this man?” Max asked coolly.
Staci glanced down at the photo, but quickly averted her eyes. “Nope. Never seen him before.”
Oakley scoffed. “Bullshit,” she said firmly, “We’re not stupid, Ms. Lawson. We know he’s your brother, so cut the crap.”
“Fuck,” Staci muttered under her breath. She’d never thought anyone would find out she was in contact with the family pariah. Staci closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose.
Don’t tell them anything! Find out what they know, then feed them until they think he is the mastermind.
“Fine,” she said, “Cade’s my brother. Did you really need to arrest me, at my place of employment, just to show me a picture of him?”
“Why did you say you’ve never seen him?” Max asked.
Staci scowled. “Because my family disowned him years ago. None of us acknowledge him.”
Oakley glanced at Max with a frown. “Why is that?” she asked.
“Because he’s a loser,” Staci said nonchalantly, “Cade has been in and out of drug rehab and mental institutions since he was twelve. He has absolutely zero credibility, so if his word is all you’ve got, then I’m going home.”
Staci pushed her chair away from the table and stood to head for the door with a triumphant smirk on her face. Surely, no one was going to believe a psychotic junkie over a respected high school teacher.
“We didn’t say that,” Max said, remaining in her seat as she shuffled through her folder, “It seems your bother is a damn smart loser.”
Staci whipped around before she could reach for the knob. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, an irritated scowl darkening her features.
Max withdrew several sheets of paper from the folder and placed them beside one another on the table. “Cade keeps transcripts of all his text messages. He also keeps purchase receipts, no matter how he pays for his purchases.”
Staci couldn’t help but move back to the table. She hesitantly looked over the printout of her conversations with her wayward brother, going back several months.
She swallowed hard, nearly choking when she saw the copies of receipts from the plumbing and hardware stores; receipts that clearly showed her credit card being used for the purchases.
Anger curled in Staci’s belly, and she began to sweat. “This doesn’t prove a damn thing,” she said venomously, “You won’t find those messages on my phone, and my cell carrier doesn’t store text transcripts for more than twenty-four hours.”
“That’s okay,” Oakley replied with a grin, “We don’t need them. These are just to bulk up the evidence. Did you know that Cade also records every single phone call he gets or makes?”
Oakley and Max watched with satisfaction as Staci’s Lawson’s color drained away. The red tint of her anger vanished, leaving the pretty brunette with a pasty, unattractive complexion.
“So?” Staci squeaked, trying to corral the thoughts tumbling around the inside of her skull.
“So,” Max supplied easily, “This interview has been recorded, and we are going to run a voice print comparison to the tapes Cade gave us. If they match, Ms. Lawson, you are going to spend the rest of your life in a federal prison.”
A cold sense of dread washed over Staci, and she sank into the chair. Words failed her as she scrambled to figure out a way out of the mess she’d found herself in.
Son of a bitch! I should have known my bumbling idiot brother would fuck this up! If Christie had just been honest about her and Joe, this never would have happened!
“So,” Oakley smirked, “You ready to come clean, or you gonna see if your overpaid lawyer can fool a jury?”
“I, uh,” Staci sighed with resignation and crossed her arms over her chest, “I’ll confess, but I want my lawyer present, and I want a deal.”
Max and Oakley laughed. “A deal?” Max asked, “A deal for what? Your brother already got a deal, so you are shit out of luck on that front.”
A slow predatory grin spread over Staci Lawson’s face, contorting her features into something evil and conniving.
“Oh, I’m sure he did,” she cooed, “but I can offer you something that he can’t.”
Intrigued, Oakley canted her head. “And what, pray tell, is that?”
Staci Lawson shrugged and buffed her nails on the sleeve of her blouse. “The identity of the person who blew up all those other cops.”
***
“Hey, Oakley,” Jolene said quietly into the phone as she eased the bedroom door closed, “Now isn’t really a great time to chat. Christie isn’t taking Staci’s arrest very well.”
“I’m sorry, Jo. I know how hard it is to see a colleague led away in cuffs.”
Jolene scoffed. “Me too,” she said, plopping onto the couch with a grimace. Although her injuries from the blast had healed, occasionally she would experience sharp stabs of pain when she moved a certain way. “But, that was honestly one experience I never thought my wife would have to go through.”
“I completely understand what you mean. Poor Stormie has seen it a few times in her law career, and it never gets easier.”
Jolene checked the clock and sighed. Christina had fallen asleep a few minutes earlier, exhausted from hours of crying. “So, what’s up?”
“Staci Lawson and her lawyer are talking with the DA. Jo, she’s cutting a deal.”
Jolene’s eyes widened, and she couldn’t help the rise of her voice. “What! How in the hell is she managing that?”
“She claims to have proof of the identity of the true bomber.”
Jolene stood and began to pace the living room. “Are you serious, Oakley?” she asked, slicing her free hand through her loose curls, “Are you seriously telling me that Staci has known who the bomber is, all this time, and has been keeping it a secret?”
“It sure looks that way.”
Jolene heard the hesitation in her friend’s voice. “Oakley, what’s wrong? Who is she accusing?” Jolene listened as Oakley took several steadying breaths, before relating what Staci was claiming to have proof of.
“No,” Jolene said loudly, “I don’t believe it. That bitch is lying through her damn teeth!”
“I’m sorry, Jo. She told the DA where the evidence is. Max and Dani have a team at her house now. If her evidence is sound, the DA is going to agree to the deal.”
Anger raged within Jolene, causing her hands to shake violently as she fought the urge to hurl her phone through the plate glass window.
There’s no fucking way, she thought, that bitch is fucking demented!
“So, you’re saying that she’s going to walk for trying to kill me,” Jolene spat, “is that about the gist of it?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all, Jo. She’ll do time. It just won’t be what we’d like.”
“Jo?”
Jolene whipped around, eyes blazing with fury, to find Christina standing at the mouth of the hall. “Oakley, I have to go,” she said into the phone, “Christie’s awake.”
“What’s wrong?” Christina asked when Jolene hung up the phone and pulled her into her arms.
Jolene didn’t answer right away. She still couldn’t believe what Oakley had told her. Instead, she calmed herself with slow, deep breaths as tears poured steadily from her eyes.
“Jo?” Christina asked, “Honey, why are you crying?”
Jolene sniffed and cupped Christina’s face. She pressed a gentle kiss to her wife’s forehead, then between her eyes, then the tip of her nose, before finally pressing their lips together.
“We need to sit down,” she whispered as she took Christina’s hands and led her to the couch.
Christina frowned as she watched Jolene’s careful movements and forced gentility. Something was bothering the redhead, and Christina had the sinking feeling that she wasn’t going to like what her wife was about to tell her.
Chapter 15
“This is the last of the grade checks,” Marcy said with a sigh as she placed the binder on LeRoy’s desk. “Hopefully the basketball team decided to get off their lazy asses and study. It’s going to be pretty sad for the school to have to pull them from the playoffs.”
LeRoy snickered as he flipped open the binder. “It’ll be a blow to the school, that’s for sure,” he admitted, “but I’m not afraid to do it. The test scores of athletes in this school are atrocious, and I’m sick of being the laughing stock of the district. I’m going to convince these delinquents that their education is more important than sports, even if I have to disband those sports to do it.”
Marcy laughed. She and LeRoy had been working on end-of-term paperwork for hours. They might have finished on time, and been able to leave with the rest of the staff, had it not been for the fiasco of Staci Lawson’s arrest.
“I’m just glad the term is over,” she said as she dropped into the chair across from LeRoy’s, “I can’t wait to go home and spend the next two weeks holed up in the house with my wife.”
LeRoy smirked as he sorted the grade checks. “Do you and Frankie have any plans for the holidays?”
Marcy grinned and crossed her arms over her chest. “Yep, we are going to stay home, stay naked, and stay the hell away from anyone even resembling teenagers.”
“Marcy!” LeRoy groaned as he scrubbed his hands over his ears. “I don’t need to hear about your sex life! If Frankie finds out you mentioned being naked to me, she will kick my ass just for existing.”
Marcy laughed. She loved watching LeRoy squirm. For some reason, unknown to her, the man always grumbled whenever his lesbian friends mentioned anything even remotely intimate. His grousing was always more playful than serious, and Marcy enjoyed goading the man.
A loud rap on LeRoy’s window startled the pair. Marcy narrowed her eyes in question, receiving a confused shrug from the Principal. LeRoy stood form his chair and opened the blinds to his office, revealing the two FBI agents from earlier in the day.
“What are they doing back here?” Marcy asked as LeRoy motioned for the agents to go to the front doors of the school.
“I don’t know,” he said, following Marcy out of his office, “Maybe they need to ask us some questions.”
Marcy led the way to the doors and used her key to let the agents into the lobby. “Good evening, Agents,” she greeted with a smile, “What can we do for you?”
Agent Oakley Frost withdrew a folded piece of paper from inside her jacket. She unfolded it and handed it to LeRoy.
LeRoy read the page; his color fading to a ghostly white. “What the hell?” he squeaked.
Concerned by her friend’s sudden change in demeanor, Marcy moved to his side. Before she could ask, LeRoy handed her the paper. As Marcy began to read, Agent Max Prescott stepped forward and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
“Marcy Crow,” Oakley said, “You are under arrest for the murders of Officers Monica Jones, Jordon Gonzales, Theresa Lutz, and Hayley Stone.”
***
“Mrs. Crow, you’ve been given time to confer with your attorney. Are you ready to begin?” Oakley asked.
“Yes,” Marcy replied, her voice flat and emotionless.
Oakley and Max sat across from Marcy and her lawyer. Max opened the folder in front of her and pulled out several photographs.
“We served a search warrant on your house, Mrs. Crow. Your wife was kind enough to let us in,” she said, placing the photographs in front of Marcy. “Does she know about your little hobby?”
Marcy scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. She tried not to look, but her eyes were drawn to the photos. Gun powder, electrical wires, nitro-methane, and ammonium nitrate were clearly visible in their safety containers.
They’d also found the metal housing units she’d made herself, and the scrapbook she’d kept documenting her handiwork.
“No,” she finally said.
“Why don’t you start at the beginning, was Officer Stone your intended target? Or, was she just a random victim?” Oakley clicked her pen and began scribbling notes as Marcy spoke.
“Of course, she was the target,” Marcy spat, her eyes flashing, “They were all my intended targets!”
“Marcy,” her well-dressed attorney spoke warningly, but Marcy waved him off.
“They already have the evidence they need to send me to prison for the rest of my life, Grant. Why bother withholding the details?” Marcy folded her hands in front of her and waited for the questioning to continue.
“Why did you specifically target these officers?” Max asked.
Marcy’s lips curled into a sardonic grin. “Because they were fucking my wife,” she replied coldly.
“How do you know that?” Oakley asked as she made her notes.
Marcy scoffed again and tapped the photograph of her scrapbook. “It’s all in there,” she said, “every photo that PI gave me. The same four women, Monday through Thursday. That’s what my wife did while I was at work. Hayley Stone on Monday, Jordan Gonzales on Tuesday, Theresa Lutz on Wednesday, and Monica Jones on Thursday.”
“How long had the affairs been going on?” Max asked curiously.
“Well, I hired the PI last October,” Marcy replied, rubbing the back of her neck in thought, “and Frankie was already sleeping with all of them, so I don’t honestly know.”
“Did you ever confront your wife about her secrets?” Oakley kept her eyes on her paper as she spoke, afraid her carefully composed professional mask would falter. She didn’t want Max to notice that her question was an uncomfortable one to ask.
Marcy nodded. “I confronted her about the affairs, but I pretended I didn’t know all the details. I presented it as a suspicion.”
“How did she react?” Max set her pen aside and folded her hands in her lap. She wanted to gauge the woman’s body language, and needed to focus on her instead of the notes.
Dani was unable to be present, she was helping another team with an interrogation, so it fell to Max to make certain they were getting the whole truth from Marcy.
“She denied it, at first,” Marcy shrugged, “but after a while, she finally admitted that she’d been having an affair. What she didn’t do,” she added venomously, “was be honest about it. She claimed it was a one-night stand with an old friend from college.”
“I pretended that I believed her. She swore that it would never happen again, and I threatened to divorce her if it did. For a couple of weeks, the two weeks I was off for winter break, things were great. Frankie was loving and attentive as usual, and she never once went anywhere by herself.”
“I genuinely thought I had scared her back into fidelity with my divorce threat. Stupid me, huh?” Marcy paused to swipe at the tears that escaped down her cheeks and stare at the wedding ring on the hand in her lap.
Max and Oakley exchanged a look. Neither of them wanted to imagine how they would react to finding out that their wives were having an affair.
Marcy sniffed and lifted her head, her pained eyes hardening as she replayed the memories. “On the first day of school after winter break, I forgot my lunch at home. I decided I would go home and have lunch with Frankie, rather than eating in the cafeteria. I was just pulling up to our house, when I noticed a patrol car parked outside.”
