No One Left to Tell (12 page)

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Authors: Karen Rose

Tags: #Mystery & Detective, #Fiction, #General, #Suspense, #Thrillers, #Crime

BOOK: No One Left to Tell
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Stevie hung up and walked back to JD, who stood next to the CSU van they’d requested as soon as they’d walked onto the scene.

‘We were right, weren’t we?’ JD murmured.

‘I think so,’ Stevie said. The brass was racing to calm the public, but something hadn’t felt right. Years of experience in Homicide had Stevie trusting her gut.

‘It’s too perfect,’ JD went on.

He was right. The bar had been trashed, bottles strewn, the register emptied while the victim’s body swung from the rafters in an upstairs apartment. But the most expensive liquor had been smashed and wasted, not stolen.

‘The liquor alone was worth thousands of bucks,’ Stevie agreed. ‘Any self-respecting punk would have taken it, not trashed it.’

‘Still, it’s not a random sniper,’ JD said. ‘We can all breathe a little easier over that.’

‘Everybody but Elena Muñoz and Denny Sandoval.’

Chapter Five

 

Tuesday, April 5, 2.25
P.M
.

 

‘Y
ou have got to be kidding me,’ Grayson said, staring at the VW Beetle while Clay unlocked the doors. ‘We’ll be in traction if all three of us squeeze into that thing.’

‘It’s my assistant’s car,’ Clay said. ‘Mine was compromised.’

‘Tracking devices,’ Paige said. The overabundance of testosterone raging between the two men was getting on her nerves. ‘We think reporters hid them under our cars.’

‘So that’s what you were looking for,’ Grayson said. ‘When you were up under your truck in the parking garage. Tracking devices.’

‘Yeah. I’d just found one when the guy attacked.’

Clay’s mouth tightened as he studied the bandage on her throat. ‘You were lucky.’

‘I know,’ Paige said.

‘Not entirely luck,’ Grayson said. ‘You fought back. Pretty amazingly, too.’

‘I’ll say.’ A voice from behind had the three of them whipping around to stare. Then glare. It was Phin Radcliffe and he had a microphone in his hand. There was a cameraman with him and the little light on the camera was blinking red.

So was Paige’s anger. ‘You put me on TV, without my permission.’

‘I didn’t need permission. The sidewalk and street are public property. As was the parking garage where you narrowly escaped death today at the hand of an attacker with a knife. Can you tell us what happened?’

His tone had changed as he’d uttered ‘parking garage’, going from coolly rational to booming catch-this-at-eleven.

He’s going to put me on TV again, the bastard. No way
.

Paige took a step forward, but Grayson held her back. ‘Careful,’ he murmured.

She drew a breath, knowing that Grayson was right. ‘No comment,’ she said.

‘We’re running this story, Miss Holden. We’d like to have your side of it.’

‘My side?’ She pursed her lips when Grayson squeezed her arm. ‘No comment.’

Grayson helped her into the front seat. ‘I hope your day improves, Miss Holden.’ His back to Radcliffe’s camera, he gave her a hard look when she opened her mouth in surprise. ‘Later,’ he mouthed and she understood what he wanted her to do.

‘Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come along.’

He shook her hand professionally. ‘I was happy I could help.’ He wrote something on the back of one of his business cards and handed it to Clay. ‘My direct line. Don’t hesitate to call if the police need any additional information from me for their report.’

‘Thanks,’ Clay said. ‘We appreciate it. Can we give you a lift?’

‘No. Like I said, I’d be in traction. But thanks for the offer. I’ll get a cab.’

‘Mr Smith,’ Radcliffe pressed, still smiling, ‘you became the Good Samaritan for our Good Samaritan when you saved Paige’s life. How does that make you feel?’

‘I was just in the right place at the right time,’ Grayson said. ‘Anyone would have done the same.’ He turned then and hailed a cab.

Clay drove away. When they’d turned the corner he handed the card to Paige. On the back was an address. ‘Smith wants us to meet him at this address in an hour.’

‘Upscale,’ she murmured. ‘Is this his home?’

‘No. He has a townhouse in Fells’ Point.’

‘Also upscale. Difficult on a prosecutor’s salary. What else did you find out?’

‘Not a lot,’ he admitted. ‘He was engaged once. The announcement was in the paper, but there was never a wedding announcement and no license on file.’

‘Society girl? The engagement, I mean.’

‘Yes. Why?’

Because he held my hand and stroked my hair
. ‘I’m thinking about his finances, which I should have done before jumping into my look-into-his-eyes plan. If he’s living this far above his means, he could be on the take.’

But even as she said the words, she knew,
knew
they weren’t true.

‘You don’t think so, though,’ Clay said.

‘No. I have no reason to believe this and I’ve been wrong about men before.’ More times than she wanted to think about.

‘But you trust him. Sometimes following your gut isn’t bad,’ Clay said. ‘Besides, to get into his finances deep enough to really know how he gets and spends his money would have taken a long time. Longer than we have. What I want to know is why he was there in the garage, in the nick of time? I’m glad he was, but what was he doing there?’

‘He was following me.’

Clay rolled his eyes. ‘I never would have guessed.
Why
was he following you?’

‘He saw me in the courtroom and recognized me from the video, but he didn’t know who I was.’ And now she remembered what had nagged her in the ER. ‘He whispered.’

‘What? What does that mean?’

‘When we were in the garage, he saw that my cell was a disposable. He asked me what I did for a living. I told him, and then he whispered in my ear. Asked me if I was working for Elena. How would he know Elena wanted a PI?’

‘Good question. And why did he whisper?’

‘Maybe because he was expecting me to answer exactly as I did.’

‘Which was how?’

‘I told him yes, I was working for Elena. Then he asked me in what capacity.’ She sighed. ‘And I told him.’

Clay frowned. ‘Told him what, exactly?’

‘That Elena had uncovered evidence. That it was credible. That I didn’t tell the cops and didn’t plan to because Elena said they did it.’

‘Did he believe you?’

She bit her lip. ‘I think he believed I wasn’t lying. He didn’t believe the cops were involved and still doesn’t. But he said he understood how I could believe it. I don’t think he really accepted that there was credible new evidence until he got that call.’

‘About Denny Sandoval. I was watching his face. Smith looked stunned.’

‘I know. That’s just too much coincidence, even for him.’

‘Did you tell him what Elena found?’

‘Yes.’

‘Will you give him the file?’

‘I have to,’ she said slowly. ‘Because Denny Sandoval’s dead too.’

‘Smith said that he hung himself.’

‘If he thought Elena had evidence that could send him to jail, he
might
have killed himself. Although he didn’t strike me as the type. Besides, Elena said the cops were chasing her. Denny Sandoval was no cop. That still leaves cops in the mix. And the guy that attacked me. Can’t forget about him.’

‘Trust me, I haven’t. What do you mean, he didn’t strike you as the type? You’ve met Sandoval?’

‘Weeks ago, when I agreed to take the case I went to his bar. Really sleazy guy. Elena had to have been desperate to let him touch her.’ She thought about Ramon in the prison infirmary.
Probably the safest place for him right now
. ‘I need to talk to Ramon. I’ll see Maria first, though. Even Morton couldn’t fault me for paying my respects. Where did they take her?’

‘St Agnes, but . . .’ Clay’s mouth tightened and Paige’s heart lurched.

‘No,’ she whispered, fearing the worst.

Clay blew out a harsh sigh. ‘I’m sorry. I really am. That’s why it took me so long to get to you. I was leaving when I saw a doctor pull Maria’s son aside. The poor kid nearly fainted. I stayed. I called the ER you were in to check on you. They said you had arrived and were stable. So I stayed with Rafe until the rest of his family got there.’

‘She’s gone? Maria’s gone?’

‘Yes. She’d already had two heart attacks. One when Ramon had the fight in jail and the second when the cops delivered the news about Elena. The third killed her.’

‘Oh God.’ Hot tears burned her eyes. ‘This just keeps getting worse.’

‘I know. I didn’t know how to tell you. What can I do for you?’

Paige wiped her eyes with her fingertips, then dragged her hands down her face.
Be angry. Be furious
. She thought better when she was angry than when she was crying. ‘Drive me to the parking garage. If CSU is done with my truck, I’m taking it.’

‘Should you even be driving?’

‘I haven’t taken any painkillers.’ And it hurt. A lot. But getting shot last summer had forced her to learn to deal with pain. ‘If that guy with the knife comes at me again, I don’t want to be too groggy to fight back. Which is why I want my truck. My guns are locked in a safe under the rear seat of my cab. I couldn’t go armed into the courthouse.’ She touched her throat gingerly. ‘If he comes back, I don’t want to be unarmed.’

Clay grimaced. ‘Do you have your concealed carry permit on you? Morton’ll have a field day with you if she catches you without it.’

‘Never leave home without it.’ It’d been damn hard to get a concealed weapon permit in Maryland. No way was she chancing getting caught with a gun without it.

‘Good. Where are Elena’s files?’

‘I got nervous after you left and took the original flash drive and put it in my bank safe-deposit box on my way into town. I made a copy on another flash drive that’s still locked in my safe at home. And I printed copies and mailed them to my old attorney in Minneapolis just in case something happens to me.’

‘Let’s not even go there,’ he said. ‘Still, it was good thinking.’

‘I try.’

Tuesday, April 5, 3.00
P.M
.

 

‘Come in, Adele, come in.’

Adele Shaffer walked into the office, its scent familiar and surprisingly welcome. She’d hoped to never come back here. She hoped never to tell Darren she’d been here today.

Dr Theopolis waited until she’d chosen a chair before sitting down. A gentleman. He’d always been that way. Maybe the first true gentleman she’d ever known.

He smiled, trying to put her at ease. ‘It’s been a long time.’

‘I wish it could have been longer. No offense.’

‘None taken. So . . . you’ve changed your name.’

‘I got married.’ Her chin came up, along with the old defenses.

‘Relax. I’m not here to turn you in. I never was.’

Turn you in
. Abruptly she stood. ‘I shouldn’t have come.’

‘Adele. Sit down.’ He waited until she did. ‘So, you’re married. Tell me about him.’

‘His name is Darren. He’s a good man.’

Theopolis smiled warmly. ‘Then I’m happy for you.’

She drew a breath. ‘He . . . doesn’t know.’

‘Hm.’ He didn’t look shocked. ‘Why not?’

‘I . . . don’t know how to tell him.’ Tears filled her eyes. ‘I can’t tell him.’

‘Is that why you’re here?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘Okay. You’ve finished school?’

‘Yes. I’m an interior designer. I have my own business. Mainly old ladies.’

He chuckled. ‘Lots of paisley and chintz.’

‘Exactly.’ She swallowed hard. ‘I have a child,’ she blurted. ‘A daughter.’

‘Oh, that’s wonderful.’

Tears hit again and this time she had no choice but to let them fall. There were too many to hold back. ‘She is wonderful. She’s everything.’ Adele covered her face with her hands, unable to control her sobs. ‘I can’t lose her. I just can’t.’

‘Why would you lose her, Adele? Are you afraid you’ll harm her in some way?’

‘No.’ Adele tore her hands from her face, glaring. ‘I would never harm my child.’

‘I didn’t think so. So why are you afraid you’ll lose her?’

Adele lurched to her feet and walked to the window. She’d spent hours standing at this window. There was a garden below. Daffodils. She focused on the bright yellow flowers blowing in the wind. The pain in her chest eased.

‘It’s happening again,’ she whispered. ‘The panic. Paranoia. I can’t make it stop.’

‘What’s panicking you?’

She felt the panic rise, a gorge in her throat. ‘They’ll put me away. Take my baby.’

‘Let’s cross that bridge when we get there. Talk to me. Like you used to.’

She fixed her gaze on the brave yellow flowers. ‘Somebody’s trying to kill me.’

Tuesday, April 5, 3.00
P.M
.

 

‘Where have you been?’ Daphne demanded when Grayson stopped at her desk. ‘I’ve been calling your cell for two hours. Why do you have a hospital bag?’

He put the bag on her desk. ‘Files from today’s trial. Can you re-file them?’

‘Why aren’t they in your briefcase?’

‘Because the cops have my briefcase.’ He held up his hand when she would have stormed him with questions. ‘I followed the woman.’

‘Her name is Paige Holden,’ Daphne said and tapped a thick folder. ‘This is all her.’

‘I know her name. Tell me what you think of her.’

Daphne lifted her shoulders and let them fall. ‘She had an amazing life.’

‘Had?’

‘She was an advocate for victims’ rights, taught self-defense classes, competed internationally for martial-arts titles. Until last summer.’

‘When she was shot.’

Daphne’s eyes widened. ‘How did you know?’

‘I met her, in the parking garage. She was being attacked at the moment.’

‘Oh my God.’

‘Yeah. Big guy, really big knife. She fought like a tiger.’

Daphne cringed, bracing for the bad. ‘But?’

‘She’s alive and mostly unhurt. I hit the guy with my briefcase.’

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