Reasonable Doubt (21 page)

Hannah nodded. “He’d started talking weird, you know, like about the afterlife and stuff.”

Sarah looked at Liz who appeared to be growing increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation. “Okay.” She decided to take a different tact. “Do you know what he was arrested for?”

“He broke into a building with his brother and some of his friends. That’s pretty much all I know about it.”

Trusting that people usually knew more than they thought they did, Sarah pressed for more. “How about the friends—do you know who they are?”

“Some guy named Akbar, they go to college together, and Akbar’s cousin, Naveed Khan. He goes to my school.”

Sarah instantly recognized the name of Amir Khan’s son. She could tell by Liz’s expression she did too, but she did her best to mask her response. “Uh huh. How well do you know Naveed?”

“Not well. He’s a senior. He’s really popular and I think he’s going to Princeton next year. That’s about it. Michael never really introduced me to his friends, and Naveed and I don’t really run in the same crowd.”

Something she’d said earlier about Michael kept bothering Sarah. “Did any of these other guys act like their girlfriends were supposed to obey them?”

Hannah cocked her head. “Brian had a girlfriend, but I never met her. I don’t know about Naveed. If he was seeing someone, she probably went to another school. Akbar was going with this girl, but she didn’t act like the type who obeyed anyone. I only met her once, but she was kind of a bitch.” Hannah shot a look at her mom who sighed. Sarah was glad she didn’t have to stick around for the aftermath of this conversation.

She spent the next hour asking Hannah everything she could think of about her relationship with Michael Barstow until she was satisfied that if Michael had been involved in the bombing, Hannah didn’t know a thing about it. If it turned out Michael was involved, Hannah would face much more aggressive questioning from other agents, but Sarah was satisfied she’d learned all she could.

When she signaled she was ready to leave, Liz walked her out of the apartment. “What do you think?” she asked.

“I think you have a very normal teenage daughter who was smart enough to stop seeing a kid who got in trouble with the law and tried to boss her around. Not sure you could hope for better than that.”

“I suppose. But now what?”

Liz was smart enough to know it wouldn’t end here, not since she’d stirred the pot by alerting Mason and subsequently HSI to the records they’d found. “I’m not sure, but I think it’s best if Hannah stays with you for a few days. Until we get things sorted out.”

“She’s supposed to go to her father’s, but I think I have some leverage here.”

“I’ll call you later. Let me know if she thinks of anything else.”

Half an hour later, Sarah was back at her apartment, agitated and alone. She was convinced Hannah had been dating a terrorist wannabe if not the real thing, and the prospect made her glad she didn’t have kids of her own. Oh sure, they were cute when they were tiny, sucking their thumbs and crawling around on the floor, but teenagers were a force to be reckoned with. If anything, it was even harder as a single parent.

At the rate she was going, single was all she ever would be. The entire purpose of moving to Dallas and taking this job had been to get the rest of her life on track. She had a plan. Meet a gorgeous, smart woman. Date for a respectable amount of time. Get married and move in together, not necessarily in that order. Children were a definite maybe.

So far, she’d met the gorgeous smart woman, but unfortunately, Ellery Durant was also a suspect in a case, and although she knew deep in her soul that Ellery couldn’t be responsible for what happened the night of the bombing, she knew that by accepting Trip’s request to investigate her, she had killed any chance she had for something romantic with Ellery.

She walked into the kitchen to make a drink. Just because she had to work on the weekend, didn’t mean she didn’t get thirsty. A stiff vodka tonic would make the computer work she was about to do a little more palatable.

She’d just squeezed a lime into the glass when her phone rang. She picked it up off the counter and stared at the screen. Ellery’s home number blinked with each ring. She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart and answered. “Flores.”

“What are you doing?”

“Truth?”

“Of course.”

“Making a stiff drink.”

“Sounds professional.”

“It’s Sunday. What should I be doing?”

“Depends. Do you still want to talk?”

“Yes.”

“Two conditions.”

Sarah took a deep breath. “I’m waiting.”

“You come over here. You come alone and you talk, I listen.”

“That sounded like more than two conditions.”

Ellery sighed. “Are you coming over or not?”

“I’m on my way.”

Sarah parked her car in front of Ellery’s house and started to walk to the front door, but she was stopped by the sound of a sharp whistle. She looked around, finally spying an old man peering at her from the house next door. He was drinking a beer and rocking back and forth in a chair on his porch. She nodded and waved.

“Nice car, girlie.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re a fed, aren’t you?”

She cocked her head. Nothing about her right now should signal federal agent. She was dressed for Sunday brunch, not a day at the office and her badge was in her purse, not strapped to her side. She smiled and said, “It’s Sunday. I’m not anything on Sundays.”

He threw his head back and laughed, a gravely rumble of a laugh, part humor and part edge. “Right. Whatever you say.” His laugh stopped abruptly and the smile disappeared from his face. “Tell you what, though.” He waggled a finger, motioning her over. She took a few steps until she could hear the sound of his harsh whisper. “I don’t care who you are. You hurt that girl, you’ll answer to me. You understand?”

Sarah held back a sharp retort. Everything about this old man’s posturing was born of genuine concern for Ellery, and she couldn’t help but admire his nerve and loyalty. This wasn’t just a neighbor; he was a good friend. On instinct, she stuck out a hand and clasped his firmly in her own. “I understand.”

When she turned around, Ellery was standing on the front steps of her house, grinning. Sarah walked over to meet her. “Just getting to know the neighbors.”

“He threatened you, didn’t he?” Ellery asked.

She shrugged. “A little bit.”

“Leo’s a former Marine. He’s our entire neighborhood watch and he fancies himself my personal bodyguard.”

“Have you needed a bodyguard before?”

“Matter of fact, I have.”

Sarah stared for a moment, but Ellery didn’t volunteer more. She got the distinct impression the subject was off limits, which was fine since she’d come here for a very specific reason. Ellery had called to say she was willing to hear whatever Sarah could tell her about why she’d been caught up in this mess, and Sarah was prepared to tell her everything she knew. Probably not what Trip had in mind when he tapped her for this job, but at this point she cared more about getting to the truth than dancing around it. Ellery struck her as the kind of person who would know right away if she was being disingenuous, and she was willing to risk divulging some key facts in order to get some in return.

She followed Ellery in, observing every detail of the tidy, but comfortable space where Ellery lived. From the original art on the walls to the photos arranged on the mantel, Ellery’s house had all the trappings to signal a real person lived here, unlike her own sterile apartment. She stopped in front of a beautiful wood cabinet with leaded glass doors. The shelves were lined with an odd mix of objects: a Cleveland Indians ball cap, a set of trading cards, a hardhat from a local business, and a male action figure with hooks instead of hands.

“That piece was once a barn door,” Ellery said. “The glass is from a church out in Cleburne. They replaced all the windows with energy efficient ugly ones and I lucked out by picking up a bunch of their castoffs.”

Sarah ran her fingers along the side of the cabinet. “It’s beautiful. Pine?”

“Yes.”

“I’m curious about the contents.”

Ellery opened the cabinet doors and touched each object as she explained the significance. “No, I’m not a Cleveland fan, but I did go to a game when I was there trying a federal bribery case. We won the case, so the hat has good mojo.” She pointed at the hard hat and trading cards. “Two other companies we represented that avoided prosecution.”

Sarah pointed at the action figure. “This is the one that really has me stumped.”

“One of our clients didn’t think the investigator we hired was aggressive enough so he hired this guy.” Ellery picked up the action figure. “His name is Jay J. Armes, and according to his autobiography, he’s ‘the World’s most successful private investigator.’ He rescued Marlon Brando’s son from kidnappers, he owns pet tigers, and he has tons of attachments he uses in place of the hands he lost when he was a kid playing with explosives. An associate at the office found this vintage action figure on eBay and I had to have it for my collection.”

“Wow. Pretty sure you can’t top that as far as souvenirs go. Is that why you quit?”

“You want something to drink? Beer? Wine?”

Sarah didn’t miss a beat. “Whatever you’re having is good.” She followed her into the kitchen and pretended to look at a cookbook sitting on the table while Ellery reached into the refrigerator and fished out a couple of beer bottles. She hadn’t really expected Ellery to answer her question when she’d already ducked it once before, and she wasn’t quite sure why she was fixated on the reason Ellery had left a lucrative law practice to make furniture for a living. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand the lure of a simpler life, but Ellery had seemed so enthusiastic about describing the souvenirs of her former life and Sarah thought she’d detected a trace of wistfulness.

Ellery watched Sarah with a careful eye. She was standing in the kitchen, pretending like she wasn’t watching her every move, but Ellery knew better. She doubted there was a single thing this woman missed and, as much as it aggravated her, she had a grudging admiration for her too. She grabbed two bottles of beer, twisted off the tops, and handed one to Sarah. A tiny test really, since she figured she would want a glass. Would she ask?

Sarah took the bottle and read the label. “Local. Nice. I haven’t had as much time as I would like to try out some of the local breweries. Would you mind if I had a glass?”

Ellery smiled, happy with the honesty. She reached into the freezer and pulled out a well-chilled pint glass and handed it to Sarah who handled the pour like a pro. “I didn’t figure you for a beer drinker.”

“Why? Because I had a mixed drink the first time we met?”

“That wasn’t the first time we met.” She grinned. “Unless you were drinking at Danny Soto’s office.”

“I might start drinking if I had to work for the county. But as for your assumptions, I like to drink a lot of different things. I picked a clear drink that night because the odds of someone bumping into me and spilling it were pretty high.”

Ellery motioned to the table and they sat next to each other. “It was pretty crowded. I guess we’re lucky someone didn’t target the hotel for the bombing.” She was instantly sorry for her careless words and she quickly pivoted. “Although I guess you probably think that the reason they didn’t choose the hotel is obvious, since I was there and I’m involved.”

“I didn’t say that. I didn’t even think that.”

“Then why are you here?”

Sarah looked taken aback by the question, but she recovered quickly. “Here’s the truth. I don’t think you had anything to do with the bombing, but I do think that maybe one of your clients did. You probably had no idea what they were really up to, but you might be able to help us get the truth.”

“If you’ve been doing this for any length of time, you know that I can’t talk to you or anyone else about things my client has told me without his express permission.”

“I get it, but there are ways around it. The fraud exception for example. If you—”

Ellery waved a hand to stop her. The fraud exception to the attorney client privilege could be used to allow her to divulge otherwise confidential information if her client’s action had implicated her in a crime and she needed to defend herself, but as far as she was concerned, they weren’t there yet. “You’re assuming there was some wrongdoing and that I know anything about it.”

“Well, here’s the deal. There are documents filed with the IRS that have your name on them. Those documents make you a party to whatever Amir Khan’s charity was up to, no matter what your intentions.”

Ellery had a choice. If she told Sarah her name had been added to those documents without her permission, she’d be implicating her client of forgery.
Former client.
Hell, it didn’t matter if Amir was a current or former client, the privilege survived the relationship. It was important to her that Sarah not believe she was responsible for something she hadn’t done, but her hands were tied until she knew more. She stalled. “You still haven’t told me what the charity was up to that has HSI crawling all over themselves. I thought that was the purpose of this little talk.”

“You’re right.” Sarah looked around the kitchen. “Do you have something I can write on? I think it would help to have a visual.”

Ellery pulled a pad of paper out of a drawer and shoved it and a pen across the table. Sarah drew a triangle and began labeling the three points. She tapped her finger on the one labeled WHI. “Welcome Home International is Khan’s claim to fame. It started out as a legitimate nonprofit, established to provide assistance to refugee immigrants from the Middle East.”

“That much I already knew.”

“Okay, but there’s another organization.” She pointed to the label, GEA. “Global Enterprises Alliance. It’s another nonprofit, not as well known as WHI, and you’ll be happy to know your name isn’t anywhere on their filing documents. Their board president is a guy named Sadeem Jafari.”

Ellery nodded, schooling her expression into what she hoped was nonchalance. She recognized Sadeem’s name from the search warrant affidavit, which of course, Sarah didn’t have a clue she had, but she also recognized it and GEA from the documents on Meg’s computer that she now had on a flash drive in her study. She felt a tinge of guilt at not telling Sarah what she knew about GEA, albeit limited, but then she reminded herself this meeting was about getting, not giving information. Instead, she asked, “What’s the connection?”