Trust No One (Devlin & Falco), page 33
“But that wasn’t the end of it,” Falco suggested.
Robby shook his head. “A few minutes after he left, another man came in demanding to know if I was working for the first guy. I told him no and made up a story about why he’d stopped by. This guy was livid. But I couldn’t tell him what he really wanted to know. I was already scared shitless of what the bastard would do to me for saying no. This other guy finally left, and then a few days later he was all over the news.” Robby dropped his head. “He was Ben Abbott, and the next time I saw his face, he had been murdered.”
His words seemed to echo in the abrupt silence for five or so seconds.
Kerri took a moment to absorb what he’d just said. “Who was the other man—the first one?” She glanced at Falco. They both already knew the answer.
“Lewis York.”
Another look passed between Kerri and her partner, but neither of them reacted. No matter that she had a million questions and her heart was pounding, she needed to hear whatever else Diana and Robby had to say.
“Then,” Diana said, “on Sunday he stopped by my house. I haven’t given his daughter a lesson since she went off to college, and I repaid the loan before that, but suddenly there he was at my door. He’d never come to my house before. He said he just wanted to tell me how much they loved Amelia at the firm and how they planned to donate generously for any needs beyond her scholarship.”
Kerri’s lips tightened. Arrogance personified. The bastard. “Did he pressure you in any way?”
Diana shook her head. “No, but it felt strange . . . as if he wanted to remind me of who he was and all he’d done for our family.”
“He called me that same day,” Robby put in, “just to remind me that I owed him and that he was still planning to collect. After all that’s happened this week with Amelia, I’d had enough. I went to his office this afternoon.” The big guy took a moment to compose himself. “I told him if he’d done anything to hurt Amelia, I would make him pay. I didn’t like it when she went to work there, but she was so happy. I didn’t want to do anything to ruin it for her.”
“What did York say?” Kerri prompted, ushering him back on track, dread thickening in her throat.
“He told me to go home and remember that I still have two kids and a wife and that I should take better care of them.” Robby stood. “I saw it in his eyes. He did something to my girl. I know he did.”
“Robby,” Kerri said, adrenaline burning through her, “before you say anything else, you need to know your rights.” This was skirting into dangerous territory, and she did not want to risk Robby incriminating himself further.
“I don’t give a damn about my rights, Kerri. Amelia is missing, and that son of a bitch did something to her. I know it!”
“First,” Falco said, “I need you to think about what York asked you to do. Did he mention Abbott’s name or what kind of car he wanted you to sabotage?”
Robby shook his head. “No. He didn’t. I assumed since Abbott stormed in right after his visit and then turned up dead a few days later that it was about him. Why else would he have been following York around? He knew the guy was up to something that involved him and his family.” Robby swore. “I let that happen.”
“You’re right about Abbott,” Kerri said, drawing him from that guilt-ridden path for now. “I just don’t know if that conclusion will be enough to get the powers that be to allow us to move on York. I know you’re telling the truth, Robby, but in the court’s eyes this will be your word against his, and he’s a very powerful man.”
Robby stared at the ceiling and expelled every profane word in his vocabulary, all directed at York.
“What kind of damage was done to the car you repaired for him fifteen years ago?” Falco asked.
“Front bumper. He said he hit a deer, but I didn’t believe him. I think it was a person. This was a sedan. You hit a full-grown deer straight on in a sedan, the animal is coming up on the hood. Deer are top heavy. You hit a person straight on, it’s a little different. They’re most likely going down. Whatever he hit went down. I looked under the car, and there was . . .” He took a breath. “A hunk of meat trapped . . .” He shook his head, as if trying to clear the image from his mind. “Whoever he hit, they didn’t survive. Couldn’t have.”
Diana covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes filling with tears.
“We need the exact date this happened,” Falco pressed.
“August first, fifteen years ago.”
“Jesus,” Kerri said. “That’s the last day anyone saw Janelle Stevens.”
“If we could tie him to this,” Falco said, “we could take the son of a bitch down.”
Kerri reminded her partner of their current reality. “Robby’s word against York’s. We all know how that will go. Hell, the LT will remind me that all these people—Jen included—are my family.”
“Jen talked to you too?” Diana asked, regret filling her dark eyes.
“She did.” These bastards had hurt this family and too many others to count.
Falco shook his head. “We can’t just let this go.”
Kerri wanted to scream, but she refrained. “What do you suggest we do beyond what we’ve planned?”
“I have evidence.”
Both Kerri and Falco, even Diana, looked at Robby and simultaneously asked, “What?”
“I might have been desperate, but I wasn’t stupid. I always took pictures of every car I did bodywork on. I posted the befores and afters on the bulletin board to show customers. I took a photo of the damage to the front end and of the license plate. I wrote down the VIN, and”—he took another breath—“I kept that hunk of meat.”
Anticipation walloped Kerri. “Please,” she said, her voice quivering, “please tell me you’re serious.”
He nodded. “As a damn heart attack.”
“What did you do with it?” Falco asked, on his feet now.
“It’s in a box inside a plastic bag tucked into the freezer part of the fridge at my shop.”
Kerri could hardly breathe. “Falco, take Robby to his shop, and get that evidence to the lab. I’m calling the LT.”
Falco patted Robby on the back. “Let’s go, buddy. You may have just solved two cases.”
Robby’s gaze held Kerri’s for a moment. “Find my girl for me.” He shook his head. “If . . . whatever has happened—”
Kerri held up her hand to stop him. “It’s not. Go. Get the evidence.”
Diana hugged him, her face burrowed into his broad chest. “We’ll get him,” she murmured.
When the two were out the door, Kerri ushered Diana into the living room. She called Tori downstairs to sit with her while she went into the kitchen and called Brooks. She filled him in on all that she and Falco had just learned, though she opted to not identify her sources for now. His response was not the one she had wanted to hear. She and Falco were already on thin ice. The chief had ordered them to stay away from Thompson and York. They would talk about this tomorrow.
End of story.
As frustrated and furious as she was, she didn’t bother arguing. It was pointless. Sadie Cross’s comment reverberated through her. Thompson and York are part of the untouchables.
The notification of a new text chimed. Kerri checked it. Jen was still trying to get in touch with Theo. So far, he wasn’t taking her calls. She promised to keep trying until she made it happen.
Before she could answer, another text from Jen appeared.
I’m so sorry, Kerri. I never meant to hurt you.
Kerri smiled sadly and sent her a response. I know you didn’t. Keep trying. Let me know ASAP if you reach him.
She hit send and started to put her phone away but sent one more message first.
Be careful. Do not try this alone.
A thumbs-up was Jen’s response.
Kerri stood in the middle of her kitchen for a long moment. She thought of what Amelia had asked her just a few days ago.
Do you believe the top level of Birmingham PD can be trusted?
Kerri had been so sure the answer was yes.
Maybe not.
This was the first time in her career that she felt as if the chain of command had let her down.
When she wandered back into the living room, Tori was brushing her aunt’s hair and telling her how pretty she was. Kerri had never been so proud of her daughter. Please, please, please let Amelia be okay.
As soon as Falco and Robby returned, Robby gave Diana a kiss and went to pick up the boys from camp. He would come back for Diana and Tori. Kerri didn’t want her daughter alone. Particularly not since she had made it abundantly clear to Thompson and York that she intended to get them both.
Falco ushered Kerri into the kitchen, out of earshot of Tori and Diana. “The lab is crazy busy, but they’re going to put us at the front of the line.” He studied her face, then frowned. “What did the LT say?”
“Brooks says we have our orders.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Kerri shook her head. “One or both of those two bastards got away with killing Janelle Stevens fifteen years ago. We’re this close”—she held her thumb and forefinger about an inch apart—“to connecting them to that one and the Abbott case. I’m not letting them get away with murder this time.”
With every fiber of her being, she hoped Amelia was not part of this. Kerri prayed she actually was with a totally unrelated friend. Safe and lying low.
“We should prepare for an all-nighter,” she said. “I don’t know if Ben Abbott’s parents are dead because they knew too much, or one or both couldn’t live with what they knew anymore. God only knows who killed Ben or the woman posing as Sela’s mother or Joey Keaton. But like we talked about before, it feels like cleanup. We need to keep an eye on Thompson and York until we can take them down.”
“The sooner, the better,” Falco agreed.
“I’ll take York,” Kerri offered. If he had anything to do with Amelia going into hiding, she intended to make him pay.
“I’ll stake out the Thompson place.” He gave her a warning look. “If anything goes down, I want to hear from you right then. No moving on your own.”
“Same goes, partner,” she shot back.
If York or Thompson made a move or had a visitor, she and Falco would be there, ready to pounce.
58
8:00 p.m.
T. R. Thompson Residence
Briarcliff Road, Mountain Brook
His cell phone buzzed. T. R. slipped into his robe, tied the belt, and enjoyed the soft feel as the fabric snugged against his well-toned body. He reached for the phone. How many reporters had mentioned during interviews that he and Theo could be brothers?
He grinned. Enough for him to know his hard work in the gym all these years still paid off. A frown tugged at his brow as he viewed the screen. He didn’t recognize the number. Rather than answer with his name as he generally would, he said, “Hello.”
“T. R., how have you been?”
Shock rumbled through him at the sound of her voice. “Why are you calling me?”
“Why wouldn’t I call you? You and I have been such good friends. Look at all that money I raised in your name for those poor children. The hospital is naming that wing after you because of me.”
“What do you want?”
“I need to see you.”
He laughed as he exited his bath and strolled across his bedroom. A nice nightcap was in order. That was another of his antiaging secrets. Early to bed and early to rise. Since he had no one to answer to other than himself and his constituents, he could damn well do as he pleased. That was the way he liked it.
“I’m afraid I’m quite busy these days. You’re aware I’m sure to be elected governor. I’m afraid I simply have no time. Besides, the way I hear it, you’re a fugitive. Frankly, I thought you were dead.”
He ended the call and dropped his phone into the pocket of his robe. How dare that gold-digging slut call him? His bare feet were silent on the long carpeted corridor that led to the landing. He should notify Lewis. Let him handle the . . .
The thought slipped from his head when his gaze landed on the woman standing at the bottom of the staircase.
“How did you get into my house?” His hand tightened on the railing. He should call the police. Lewis, he should call Lewis now.
“Don’t you remember?”
She walked to the bottom of the stairs, the bulge of her belly far too visible with her tight clothing. What the hell was she wearing? Black leggings and some tight-fitting black top that covered all of her save her face and neck. Even the shoes she wore were black, as were the damned gloves. What was she up to? She looked like a burglar. He almost laughed out loud. She’d certainly separated him from a few of his millions.
Well, if she was after more of his money, she could forget about it. He was onto what she was really after. Revenge.
“You gave me a key and the passcode to your gate back in January after the New Year’s party. You may have been a little tipsy. You urged me to come some Friday evening when your staff was off duty.”
Fury tightened his lips. Teasing bitch. “But you never came.” He walked down a step and then another. He had forgotten about giving her the key and the passcode until just this moment. “What do you want?” he demanded once more.
“Come down, and we’ll talk about it. I promise it will be worth your while. And then I’ll be on my way. You’ll never see me again.”
She was clearly unarmed. She certainly couldn’t be hiding anything in that getup. He descended another step. “What do we have to talk about?”
“All I want to know is who killed my sister. One name. That’s all.”
He laughed as he moved down another step. What a fool. Her trollop sister had gotten exactly what she’d deserved. Who did she think she was, trying to worm her way into places she did not belong? “You actually went to all this trouble for revenge? How sad for you.” He took another step down, feeling bolder. “I have no idea—”
His foot caught against something. He pitched forward.
Falling.
Fear hurtled through him.
His body slammed against unforgiving marble treads over and over until he fell flat on his back at the bottom of the staircase.
Pain seared through him. He cried out. Tried to move. More pain. He needed his phone. Tried to drag his arm down to his pocket.
“Looking for this?” She waved his phone in front of his face.
How had she taken it from him so quickly? Had it fallen from his pocket?
“Call an ambulance.” He moaned with the rising agony.
“I’ll call an ambulance,” she promised, “as soon as you tell me who killed my sister.”
Why would he tell her anything? He wouldn’t. Dear God, the pain was unbearable. His body was on fire with it.
To hell with it. “She did,” he hissed. Better for her to suffer than him.
“Who is she?”
His son might never forgive him . . . but he couldn’t hold out. He needed help . . . he was in such pain and so afraid of dying. “Suzanne.”
“Why?” the bitch demanded.
A roar of agony wailed from his throat before he could answer. “Theo,” he moaned, “told her he was leaving her for Janelle. He was willing to give up everything. Suzanne followed her until she found the right opportunity. She ran her over and then buried her body.”
Dear God! He couldn’t bear this pain any longer. His entire being radiated with the force of it. His heart was pounding. The pressure in his chest was horrendous. “Please. I told you what you wanted to know. Make the call!”
“Where did she bury her?”
He wailed again with the rising agony.
She moved. He managed to turn his head the slightest bit to watch her. Was she calling for help?
Taking her time, she climbed the stairs. Midway up, she paused and bent down. “What’re you doing?” He howled with another flood of misery.
When he looked again, she was coming down the stairs, wrapping something around her hand as she moved toward him. Then he knew. She had put something in his path. A wire or string of some sort. That was why he had tripped.
Fucking bitch!
She crouched next to him. “Where was she buried?”
“You won’t get away with this,” he snarled.
She smiled. “I already have. Now tell me what she did with my sister’s body, and then I’ll make the call for an ambulance.”
He suddenly saw two of her. Her two faces swam in front of him.
“Tell me,” she whispered, her faces suddenly close to his.
He thought of that night. Of how Suzanne had come to him with the girl in her trunk. He’d called Lewis, and they had . . .
His mind drifted back to those frantic moments. Dear God, what they had done . . .
He stared up at the two faces peering down at him. A voice was speaking . . . was it his voice or hers? But her lips weren’t moving.
Oh, what they had done . . .
59
9:30 p.m.
Whisper Lake Circle
Suzanne parked next to T. R.’s car. What on earth was he thinking, coming here at this time of night? She shook her head. He must have some reason. She hoped it was a good one.
“I swear, I think you’re getting senile, old man.” How did he expect to be governor if he kept forgetting things and making little mistakes? Perhaps he would see that he needed her more than ever.
Suzanne had decided long ago to make herself invaluable to T. R. God only knew if she would be able to count on Theo. He was far too weak.
She climbed out of her car, hit the fob to lock it, and then dropped it back into her purse. She hurried to the front door. She assumed he was inside since the downstairs lights all appeared to be on. The door was unlocked. Did he have a key?
“T. R.?” She called his name repeatedly as she roamed through the empty house. “Where are you? Are you all right?”
Her cell vibrated. She noted the name on the screen, then answered. “What do you want, Lewis?” The idiot should be babysitting Theo tonight just to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid.
