Deadlock (8 page)

6:55 P.M. TUESDAY

Bethany parked her truck in the covered parking area and locked it before heading to her apartment. A bit of a chill met her in the shadows, matching her mood. Her head whirled with the past two days. How would the investigation continue without evidence to arrest Paul Javon? Curiosity about the attendance for the Javon and Caswell services played havoc with her mind. Thatcher had been right
 
—a connection would go a long way in solving the murders. At least then they’d have concrete information to explore.

She opened her apartment door.

Fury burned to her toes.

Her sofa, barely six months old, was slashed. A broken lamp. An overturned chair and small table.

“Jasper! Where are you?”

Her pet flew from her bedroom, down the hall, and to her shoulder. He trembled and nuzzled against her head.

“It’s okay, fella. I’m here.” She pulled the Glock from her purse with one hand and pressed in 911 with the other. Protocol stated she should back out and wait for HPD, but she ignored the rules, a rarity, and cleared every room. Nothing missing, only a mess to clean up. She reported the burglary to the FBI and texted Thatcher. Not sure why the latter, except to keep him informed.

Want me 2 come by?

Kind remark. Rather surprising.
No thanx. I’m ok.

Past experience with Lucas indicated the intruder might be her brother. Especially with the flat tire and note from this morning. But she had no proof.

Two hours later, after completing the police officer’s questioning and searching through dumped drawers and closet items, she discovered her grandmother’s brooch was missing. The piece of jewelry had little monetary value, and only one person would have reason to take it. Only one person would break in and leave valuables behind and take something sentimental. Lucas.

She took Jasper with her and drove to her parents’ home. The parrot still perched on her shoulder and would not be persuaded to take refuge in his cage. No longer did her pulse race wildly or her face grow hot. She didn’t care about the reception she’d receive or the shouting match. She had her father’s temper, and it was about to be unleashed.

As she parked at the curb in front of the Sanchez home, a twinge of “don’t do this” nudged at her conscience. She shoved the warning aside. Prayers knocked at her heart, but she refused them.

She could more easily forgive a stranger than a family member who had nothing better to do than destroy property and steal while frightening a helpless bird.

The moment she approached the porch with Jasper, Lucas opened the door and closed it behind him without snapping on the outside light. He must have been expecting her. How long had it been since she’d seen him? The flick of a lighter illuminated his hardened features as he fired up a cigarette.

“What brings you here, Sis?” He drew in the nicotine. “Didn’t the parents tell you to stay away?”

“I want to talk to you.” She kept her voice even.

“Has Jasper become a guard bird?”

“Maybe. Let’s take a walk.” She started to add a bit of sarcasm about his healing from jail, but thought otherwise.

“What if I don’t want to?”

“I’m not giving you a choice. We can have the conversation right here, and those inside can hear, or privately. You choose.”

“For a minute, I thought you might pull your gun on me.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

He shook his head. “Whatever you have to say can be said in earshot of
Papá
and
Mamá
. They know all you’ve done. Even working with Thatcher Graves.”

“Did you follow me this morning and slash the tire on my truck?”

He chuckled. “Nope, but I wish I’d thought of it.”

“Did you break into my apartment?”

He swore.
“¿Estás loca?”

“No. Did you break into my apartment?”

“I’ve been right here catching up on sleep or at the shop all day.”

“Was
Mamá
with you?”

“None of your business. I’m not a criminal.”

“Prove it.”

The door opened and
Papá
stepped in front of Lucas. “Leave. You’re not welcome here ever.”

Regret washed over her. What had she been thinking to interrupt her parents’ evening? “All right.”

“Is that all you have to say this time of night?”
Pap
á
’s voice rose.

“I apologize for the late hour, but I needed to talk to Lucas.”

“Now you have.”

“May I ask where he was today?”

“None of your business unless you have a warrant.
Lárgate.
”

She’d leave his house because she’d been disrespectful, letting her rage rule her good sense.
“Perdóname.”

“¿Perdonarte? Imposible,”
Papá
said. “You’ve done too much to destroy the family.”

She left, her face once more in flames. This wouldn’t end well, not with Lucas’s history of violence and her family’s history of coddling him.

9:00 A.M. WEDNESDAY

Thatcher drove with Bethany to Danford Accounting to thoroughly investigate the company and Alicia’s coworkers. Fortunately, the judge had been in a good mood and signed their subpoenas and search warrants for Felix Danford and Paul Javon without a hitch. Murder had a way of pushing things.

Another pair of agents had been assigned to search Paul Javon’s home. Not much Thatcher and Bethany could do, considering they’d interviewed him twice and were at a stalemate until he confessed to an affair.

Bethany sat on the passenger side, quiet, with her attention seemingly on the road. He’d made a commitment to get to know her better, find out more about what made her tick. She needed to talk about last night’s break-in. Just because an agent underwent training didn’t mean the violation of private property was any less taxing on the psyche.

Until they understood each other, the trust factor wasn’t there.

“Are you okay?” he said. “Any word on your burglary?”

“I’m fine.”

“Want to talk?”

“No.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Didn’t get much sleep last night with all the activity. That’s all.”

“I’m a good listener, and whatever you say stays with me. Do you have an idea who broke into your place?”

“Of course not,” she snapped.

“I have a feeling you do.”

“Shelve it.”

“Old boyfriend?”

“Enough, Thatcher. It’s none of your business.”

Her phone notified her of a text, and she took a look. Tense.

“Something for us?”

“No.” She sighed. “Family stuff. Lucas is yanking my chain.”

“Bethany, I don’t ask to pry. I ask because I care about my partner.”

She tossed him a pale glance and he grasped a snippet of her internal MO. Wasn’t there anyone in her life to nurture her? Care?

She leaned her head against the door. “Okay, I’ll do my best. Lucas isn’t pleased with me. After your testimony sent my brother to jail, I did the same thing. Only my role got him eleven more months.”

Whoa. Bethany had sent her brother to jail?

“Don’t look so shocked, Thatcher. I walked into my sister’s house, and Lucas was holding a gun to my brother-in-law’s head. I made an arrest. He resisted and I took him down.” She straightened. “My brother-in-law backed me up. Our testimony convicted him.”

“I’d seen he’d been incarcerated for armed robbery. Never had a clue you were involved. Of course I didn’t look either. On the night I arrested him, I was at a club on the northeast side of town looking for a murder suspect when he pulled a knife on a man. Killed him and claimed self-defense. Only got nine months.”

“Sounds like Lucas.”

“Is your family concerned he might retaliate against you or your brother-in-law?”

“Not hardly. I’m the black sheep.
Pap
á
’s banned me from the house. The ironic part is my sister was furious with me. Said the problem was a family matter. She hasn’t spoken to me since, and she requested the church annul her marriage. Her ex-husband moved to Denver. Good thing. Lucas would have come after him.”

Her family was old-school, and he knew plenty of Hispanic families who didn’t operate that way. No wonder she’d shown a bond with Carly. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need your pity. And I’m not getting all defensive since I offered the reason for my preoccupation. The situation’s on my mind. No big thing. Conversation ended about Lucas. Shouldn’t have brought it up.”

It
was
a big thing. Two days with Bethany and already he’d put together more of what had driven her to the FBI. She’d seen a friend die, and her family had ostracized her. Word from those who’d worked with her said she never talked about personal matters. Lucas must be a real piece of work, and her family must toss the guilt card on a regular basis.

As he’d concluded, the family hadn’t won any awards.

And Bethany viewed her work as fulfilling deep emotional needs that she should be receiving from family.

She took a breath. “Are you taking the lead on Felix Danford’s interview? In my mood, I might rip his head off.”

He chuckled to break the tension. “Sure. I considered phoning him, but a face-to-face allows us to read his body language, even with Botox. I’d bet lunch he omitted a few things the other day.”

“If you need a little help intimidating him, I’m your gal.”

“Remind me never to make you mad.” How could one olive-skinned beauty scare him to his toes?

Seated in Danford’s office with the door closed, Thatcher smiled into the face of the firm’s CEO. “Mr. Danford, we have additional questions for you. Special Agent Sanchez and I will not take much of your time, especially since agents are here imaging your files and conducting interviews with employees.”

Danford folded his arms across his chest. “I thought you and I were finished. I have deadlines.”

“They can wait,” Thatcher said. “We have an unsolved murder, and a few matters have come to our attention.”

He glared. “I don’t have time to play games.”

“And I forgot my chess set. I think you knew about Alicia’s spousal abuse,” he said. “So what was our initial interview about?”

He tapped his fingers on the desk. “She was a good friend, a loyal employee
 
—”

“Cut the feel-good line. Were you in love with her?”

Danford placed both hands on his desk. “How dare you.”

“Simply answer the question.”

He stared at Thatcher. Deliberating his response? “Alicia had a husband.” Danford fired his words like an automatic rifle.

“But you wanted more, right? I bet her injuries made you furious. Angry enough to kill.”

Danford continued to glare. “Look. I cared for Alicia, and I think she felt the same about me. The relationship never got far enough for either of us to act. She wouldn’t allow it.”

“Are you in a relationship with anyone else?”

“No. I waited for Alicia.” His face softened. “An incredible woman. Never understood her loyalty to God when her Bible says she could have left him. I urged her to kick the jerk out. Many times.”

“Why didn’t she?”

“Wanted to stick it out until her oldest daughter graduated from college. Not sure why the younger didn’t play into the picture.”

“What else?”

Danford refolded his arms. “I talked to her at length about the situation because . . . I loved her, and I was afraid he’d kill her. I didn’t understand why she let him hurt her.” He whirled his chair away from Thatcher and Bethany. “Give me a moment here.”

“It’s all right, Mr. Danford. We want the truth. We’re not here to judge how you felt about Alicia.”

He faced them again. “He called me with an invitation to her funeral. I went because she’d have wanted me there, and I had a few things to unload on him afterward.”

“Like what?”

“His abuse and how I’d do everything within my power to have him arrested.”

“What was his response?”

“Two words
 
—‘no evidence.’”

Spoken by a man who had a violent temper. “Can you give us anything else?”

“Alicia said he could be charming. So over-the-top that he made her crazy. The good moments were outstanding, but the bad ones were a nightmare. At times the relationship seemed like love, and other times she feared for herself and her daughters. When she finally made a decision to leave him, she ended up with a bullet in her head.”

He believed Danford. No reason to lie. “What else?”

“He was having an affair. She discovered it by accident. Ammunition for divorce. I gave her my attorney’s name, and she started the paperwork.”

More confirmation from Carly’s interview. “Did she confront him?”

“Yes, about the affair and her intentions to file for divorce. He broke her arm and knocked around the youngest daughter.”

“So you cared about her but did nothing while he physically abused her.”

His eyes hardened. “She asked me to stay out of it, said she was afraid he’d come after me. As if I couldn’t handle myself against the coward. Friday afternoon before her death, she met with the attorney and a protective order was in the works. She believed that with a divorce, she and the girls would be free from him and we could make plans for the future.”

“Did she mention her sizable inheritance?”

“I don’t know a thing about her finances. Money wasn’t an issue with us.”

“Where were you when she was killed?”

“Meeting with clients in Dallas. I can back up my whereabouts.” He leaned over his desk. “Look, Agent Graves, if I’d
schemed to kill a member of the Javon family, it would have been her no-good husband. I’d have blown him to bits a long time ago with no remorse. So if he shows up dead, then you and I can have a little talk. I might even confess.” He reached for a sticky note and scribbled something. “Here’s my attorney’s number. He can confirm my Dallas business trip.”

“Fair enough. You’ve been a tremendous help. Have you given us everything this time?”

“In the beginning I thought her husband killed her, but the media claims a serial killer committed the crime. Alicia told me Javon threatened to kill her and their daughters if she left him.”

More ammunition to arrest Paul Javon, but at this point Danford’s word against his wouldn’t stand in court, especially when Javon wasn’t at home during his wife’s murder. Later Thatcher would check to see if a restraining order had been filed and check out Danford’s alibi. “I’m sorry about Alicia’s death. Sounds like you two planned a good life together.”

“All destroyed. Alicia wouldn’t break her wedding vows. She needed someone to talk to, and I was safe. We talked at work only. No phone calls, texts, or e-mails. Nothing linking our friendship. In fact she’d leave her phone in her office during meetings in case he planted a bug.”

“Had you met her husband before the funeral?”

“Social functions only. Possessive in every sense of the word. Wouldn’t let her out of his sight. She told me he checked the mileage every evening when she returned from work to make sure she wasn’t cheating on him.” He slapped the top of his desk. “I’m telling you, the jerk was behind her murder.”