Best Laid Plans (16 page)

She slid the tablet across the table. “Saturday morning, when Adeline called me and said that Daddy was dead, I packed up his hotel room. I didn’t think anything of it then, because I was really upset, and I didn’t know how or when or anything. This tablet was in his briefcase, which he’d left in his hotel room. I’ve never seen it before. Last night, I turned it on, but it’s password protected. I tried all Daddy’s usual passwords, none of them worked, and it locked me out. I was going to give it to the security consultant HWI hired to assist with the forensic audit, but maybe you should have it.”

Barry said, “You did the right thing.” He rose and shook their hands. “Thank you for coming down, and we’ll be in touch.” He opened the door. “By the way, who did you hire?”

Lucy’s stomach fell. She should have told Barry immediately about Sean, but she didn’t think of it when she saw him.

“Sean Rogan. He came highly recommended, and Gregor—our security chief—says he’s the best in the business. I can give you his contact information if you need it.”

Barry glanced at Lucy. She couldn’t read his expression, but the blank face couldn’t be a good sign. “We have it.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

As soon as Jolene and Scott left, Barry pulled Lucy back into the conference room and closed the door. “You should have told me.”

“I didn’t know until yesterday when Sean told me. I didn’t suggest to Smith that he hire Sean. And I didn’t give Sean any direction. It’s his decision, not mine.”

“You should have told Sean to turn it down. This is a huge conflict.”

“It’s not a conflict. Sean is a security consultant. He has consulted with the FBI on numerous occasions. Having him on the inside will only help us. And honestly, it’s not my place to tell Sean what contracts he takes or doesn’t take. Besides, if they didn’t hire Sean, he would have recommended someone from RCK. They’re one of the top private security firms in the country with high government clearance. The ‘K’ stands for Kincaid.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I’m sorry, Barry, but this is Sean’s business.” She
was
sorry that there was a conflict with Barry, but she wasn’t sorry Sean had taken the job. “Why don’t you meet with Sean? Maybe if you get to know him, you’ll understand that when it comes to security, he’s all business.”

“I’m going to have to tell Juan.”

“I would have told you, but when you came in we immediately met with Jolene.”

“All right.”

She was confused. “What?”

“You tell Juan. Now, not later. And I’m going to find out where James Everett is so we can interview him.” He held up the tablet. “I’m going to give this to Zach to work on cracking the code and extracting data.”

Lucy nodded and left the conference room. Barry didn’t follow her, but sat down at the table and pulled out his phone.

She walked back to her squad room and knocked on Juan’s doorframe, even though his door was open and he was typing at the computer. He had an open-door policy, but ever since she’d been suspended, she’d avoided him. She hated the tension and suspected it contributed to her insomnia.

But if she was truthful with herself, she knew there was far more to it than tension in the office. Seeing Michael and the other boys yesterday had reminded her that there were more children like them out there. It was her overwhelming feeling of helplessness that disrupted her sleep. Intellectually, she knew she couldn’t save everyone. That children would be murdered and women raped and predators freed. But when her defenses were down and her mind was at rest, her emotions took over and all she could dream about were those she couldn’t save.

And sometimes, in her nightmares, she couldn’t save herself.

Juan looked up. “Come in, Lucy. Close the door.”

She sat on the edge of a chair. “On the case Barry and I are working, the victim’s company hired Sean to assist with the security audit. Sean told me yesterday. I don’t think there’s a conflict, I didn’t recommend him, but Barry wanted to make sure you knew.”

Juan nodded. “Sean called me.”

“Oh. Okay.” She stood.

“Sit back down.”

She did, her heart pounding. She hadn’t done anything wrong since she’d returned. She’d done everything she’d been asked, gone above and beyond, worked extra hours—yes, to make amends for what happened in Mexico, but also because she loved her job and wanted to get back in Juan’s good graces.

Juan finished typing something on his computer, then turned his attention to her. “Agent Donnelly called this morning. He asked me to loan you to him on a case he’s working. The last-known associates of Jaime Sanchez and Vasco Trejo were murdered last night. Nine people dead, including a child.”

Her stomach turned. “What happened?”

“I don’t have the details yet. Brad was heading to the crime scene when he called. I can’t let you work the case. You’re in the middle of an important investigation.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re welcome to talk to him and share information, but I need you working the Worthington case with your undivided attention.”

“Absolutely.”

“However, Brad’s concerned about your safety and frankly, so am I. You and Brad were instrumental in taking down Trejo’s smuggling operation and Sanchez’s local gang. While most of their people are dead, that doesn’t necessarily mean you and Brad are not on the cartel’s radar. I already talked to Ryan, and he’s going to liaison with the DEA’s office until we figure out what’s going on with this situation.”

“Thank you for letting me know. Is that all?”

“Yes.”

She got up and put her hand on the doorknob.

“One more thing, Lucy,” he said.

She turned, still apprehensive.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve been putting in extra hours. You don’t need to do that.”

“I know,” she said, then added, “I love my job.”

Juan didn’t say anything else, so she walked out, uncertain if she’d helped or hurt her case.

Barry approached. “Everett’s in his office, let’s go.”

She grabbed her gun and credentials from her desk drawer, then rushed to follow Barry out to the parking lot. They ran into Ryan Quiroz getting into a pool car. “Luce,” he said, “did you talk to Juan?”

She nodded. “He filled me in.”

“Make sure you watch your back.”

“If Trejo’s entire network was taken out, that should be good news.”

“Unless there’s a more dangerous player involved. I’ll let you know what I learn, I’m meeting Donnelly at the crime scene.”

“Thanks, Ryan. Tell Brad I said hi.”

Ryan drove off. Though he’d been angry with her for a few weeks after she came back from her suspension, they’d recently started talking and things were almost back to where they had been. She liked Ryan a lot—he was a great cop and they’d worked well together during Operation Heatwave. She wanted that back. Maybe she should plan a dinner or something at the house this weekend. Sean enjoyed socializing more than she did, so he’d probably be amicable to the idea.

“What’s going on?” Barry asked as he drove away.

“Remember Operation Heatwave?”

“Of course.”

“Fallout from that. Nine people from the Trejo/Sanchez gang were murdered last night. Ryan’s working with the DEA on it.”

“Is your attention going to be divided?”

“No—I’m committed to the Worthington case.”

“Good.”

She wasn’t lying. While she would do anything for Brad Donnelly, a man she liked and respected, she didn’t like working drug cases. What Brad and his people did was difficult, dangerous, and largely unrewarding. Because of their proximity to the border, the DEA had additional concerns and worked closely with all federal and local law enforcement agencies. Gun running, human trafficking, drugs—sometimes Lucy wondered why they had to have multiple agencies when the problems overlapped so much.

“I learned something interesting while you were talking to Juan,” Barry said. “James Everett has been a big supporter of Adeline Reyes-Worthington from the beginning—until last month when he endorsed her opponent.”

“How does that connect with him calling in a prostitute?”

“It doesn’t, but it’s an odd coincidence that Worthington’s phone ends up in Everett’s hotel room.”

“How do you want to handle this?”

“Don’t bring up the prostitute, at least at first,” Barry said. “I want to see what he says when I tell him about the phone. We have no proof that the girl is underage, or that he had sex with her. And truly, no judge is going to put him in prison because he paid for sex—even if we can prove it. I want to see how fast he calls in one of his lawyers. Then, when I give you a signal, flip over your note pad and show him the photo of the girl.”

Lucy was listening to Barry, but she was also thinking about why Jane Doe would take Worthington’s phone and leave it in Everett’s hotel room. “What if Everett hired her to steal the phone? Maybe she had nothing to do with Worthington’s death—he could have been dead when she got there. She grabs the phone and delivers it.”

Except, why set up the scene to make it look like Worthington had sex before he died?

“Why would he leave it in a room where it could be traced back to him?” Barry asked. “Let’s pretend we didn’t see the security tapes. We traced the phone’s GPS to James Everett’s hotel room. Let him tell us how it got there.” Barry changed the subject. “Did you tell Juan about your boyfriend?”

“He already knew. Sean called him.”

Barry didn’t say anything. If he expected Lucy to say something more, she had no idea what it was, so she kept quiet.

Barry reached into his pocket and tossed her a folded sheet of paper. “That’s the information from the warrant we served on the hotel this morning—Kenzie took care of it while we were interviewing Jolene Hayden. Confirms everything we knew from the security footage, plus the time he registered and when he was in his room.”

Lucy read over the information while Barry drove in silence.

Ten minutes later, they arrived at the sprawling complex where James Everett’s development company took up one four-story building in the multi-building, square-block office park on the outskirts of San Antonio.

Everett made them wait for twenty minutes before his secretary led them to his private office. She closed the doors behind her. Everett continued to sit behind his desk looking through a stack of papers. He was in his late forties, thick around the middle, had thinning gray hair, and wore an expensive suit. He barely glanced at them. “I have a meeting in ten minutes. I don’t see how I can help you. I knew Harper Worthington, but we weren’t close friends.”

Barry said, “When did you last see Mr. Worthington?”

“Months ago. I don’t remember when.”

“And his wife, Congresswoman Reyes-Worthington?”

Everett didn’t say anything for a second and looked up from his papers. “A few weeks ago. Maybe a month or so. Why is this relevant?”

“We’re retracing Harper Worthington’s last few days.”

“And as I said, I haven’t seen him lately.”

“Were you registered at the Del Rio Hotel this weekend?”

Everett didn’t answer the question. He rolled his gold pen back and forth between his fingers. “Why do you need to know?”

“Just following up on a lead.”

“I really don’t see why it’s important for you to know where
I’ve
been.”

Barry said, “Harper Worthington’s cell phone was found on Saturday in a room at that hotel. The last registered guest was you.”

“Impossible,” he said.

“According to hotel records, you checked in Friday afternoon and checked out Saturday morning.”

“So?”

“Housekeeping found the phone. How did it get in your room?”

“I have no idea.”

“According to the GPS logs, it arrived at the hotel at approximately twelve thirty Saturday morning. An hour after Mr. Worthington died.”

Everett didn’t say anything for a long minute. He then said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m not going to answer any more questions without my lawyer present.”

Lucy flipped open her notebook and held up the photo of the unidentified girl in the hallway outside room 606. “Would you be able to give us the name of your girlfriend? Maybe she has additional information for us.”

James Everett couldn’t hide his shock. He stared at the picture, his face pale, an involuntary twitch making his head jerk almost imperceptibly. “I have nothing more to say,” he said quietly.

“Are you sure?” Barry asked.

“I asked for my attorney.”

“We haven’t placed you under arrest.”

“I don’t have to talk to you without an attorney.”

“Would you like to call him? We can wait. Or, I can arrest you for obstruction of justice, bring you in front of a judge, then once all the preliminary paperwork is done, interview you formally.”

His eyes widened. “You can’t arrest me! I haven’t done anything.”