“Eve and I just landed at the San Antonio airport and we can’t reach Max.”
“You’re here?”
“We were going to fly in tomorrow morning, but I took the afternoon off and we decided to come early. Something Max said to me last night had me thinking, and while this is not my case and I’m not going to step on San Antonio’s toes, I wanted to look at her evidence.”
“She went to Fredericksburg to talk to Victoria’s parents. She might not have cell reception.”
“I don’t buy it. She left me a message when I was on the plane to call her. Something’s wrong.”
“Go to the hotel, I’ll find her.”
“I’ll find her, just be available if I need you.” Ryan ended the call.
“Mitch, I have to go. I’m not a cop, I’m just a private investigator. But I’m telling you right now: Take these files to the FBI. Go directly there, no stops. Talk to my wife—Agent Lucy Kincaid. While I’m not up-to-date on her investigation, I know she’s hot on the heels of someone right now, someone who lied about his alibi the night Victoria was killed. And the one thing Lucy Kincaid Rogan can do better than nearly any cop I’ve met is get someone to talk.”
* * *
“Great work,” Rachel said when she read Robert Clemson’s statement. “He’s still here, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And he didn’t ask for a lawyer?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Have him hold tight while I talk to Abigail and Adam in White Collar and see how we can proceed. This is enough to get a warrant, but considering our suspect is a lawyer we may want to be careful in how we approach this.”
“I’m working with Detective Reed on this. She still has the Victoria Mills homicide. She’s on her way back from Chicago, where she talked to the witness who originally gave Clemson his alibi. We have her statement, and I don’t know how quiet we’ll be able to keep this. The alibi works for the same law firm that Parker is a partner in.”
Rachel winced. “That might be dicey.”
“Reed doesn’t think Randolph will talk, but anyone could have seen them together since they met in her building.”
“Do you think that Clemson is in danger?”
“I don’t know. I still don’t know why Victoria was killed, and Clemson has no knowledge about anything to do with the Albrights. But I think we have enough to bring Simon Mills in for questioning. Reed will land at five this evening.”
“You work it out with her, I’ll talk to Adam and Abigail, and if we want to do something different I’ll let you know before five. Good work, Lucy.”
A tall, attractive man in khakis and a polo came in with a teenage girl. “I’m looking for Lucy Kincaid.”
Lucy frowned. The office shouldn’t let anyone back here without buzzing her first.
“I’m Lucy.”
“Agent Ryan Maguire. This is Eve Truman.”
“Ryan. Max’s Ryan.”
He grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes. Where is she?”
It took Lucy a second to understand. “She doesn’t know you were coming?”
“Tomorrow, but I changed our flight and I can’t reach her. Your husband also doesn’t know where she is. I want you to ping her phone.”
“She was in Kerr County at the recorder’s office three hours ago. I talked to her.”
“At one?”
“About then.”
“Well? Can you do it?”
“Agent Maguire,” Rachel said, “it’s an unusual request.”
“She’s not a criminal or a suspect, she’s missing.”
“Three hours—”
He was getting frustrated. Lucy said, “Give me one minute.”
She stepped back to her desk and called Sean. He answered immediately. “What’s going on with Max?” she asked.
“I’m hacking into—”
“Don’t tell me.”
“Give me a minute, I’m on my way back from Austin right now. And I think Mitch Corta is going to do the right thing. Have your White Collar people stay late.”
“Corta?”
“I found him, he has some evidence—land deals, contracts—but even he doesn’t understand it. But he also has information about Harrison Monroe and Simon Mills and is willing to make a formal statement—at least he was until Maguire called me because he can’t find Max. Shit.”
“What?”
“Her car. It’s at the police impound lot.”
“She was arrested?”
“She would have called you or me if she was. Give me a minute.”
“Ryan wants us to ping her phone.”
“Forget that, I put a tracker on it when she came to town. With her consent, only to be used in an emergency.” A few seconds later he said, “She’s at Methodist Hospital in Boerne. I’m on my way.”
“I’ll meet you there.”
She turned to face Ryan.
“What happened?” he demanded.
“I’ll take you to her.”
Chapter Thirty-six
There was no way in hell that Max was staying in the hospital overnight. Her phone was busted, otherwise she would have called Sean to spring her from this place.
“Ms. Revere,” the doctor said, “you have a concussion, a broken ankle, and two cracked ribs.”
She looked at the nurse who was putting a cast on her ankle. She knew she had a broken ankle. She didn’t need to be told. She knew she had a concussion, her head hurt worse than the worst hangover she’d ever had.
“You’re lucky to be alive, Ms. Revere.”
“Did they catch the guy who ran me off the road?”
“I don’t know.”
All of Max’s numbers were in her cell phone, but she knew Ben’s by heart, and he could call Sean and get her out of here. Then she’d call Ryan and tell him she was fine. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her like this—her face was a mess, bruises, a black eye, her lip swollen, stitches across her forehead. No Skyping for a couple of days. She’d tell him she was in a little car accident—well, she’d have to admit that someone ran her off the road—but he didn’t have to know the details.
“Can I use this phone to make an outgoing call?”
“We can call whoever you want.”
“I want to make the call.”
“Now you don’t have to,” a voice said from the door.
Ryan.
She heard him before she saw him. “How did you get here so fast?”
“I was already on my way. Eve and I decided to come early.”
“Eve?”
She didn’t like seeing the worry and concern on his face.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“And you are?” the doctor asked.
“Boyfriend,” Ryan said. “What happened? How is she? What’s broken other than her ankle?”
The doctor didn’t say anything, and Max said, “Tell him.”
“Ms. Revere was in an accident. Another vehicle ran her off the road, according to the police report when she was brought in. She has two cracked ribs, a broken ankle, and a concussion. I’d like to keep her overnight, but she has been arguing.”
Ryan stared at her. It made her very uncomfortable.
Ryan asked, “Internal bleeding?”
“No. But she needs bed rest and to be monitored. Head injuries can be extremely dangerous.”
“I’ll monitor her.”
“Thank you,” Max said.
“You have a lot of explaining to do.”
“I need to get some papers to Lucy.”
“Lucy’s downstairs with Eve.”
“In that bag,” she said. “I wanted to talk to you about it, because you understand these paper trails.”
“Was it intentional?”
“Of course it was. Big black truck came barreling behind me on the interstate and hit the back of my car.”
“She’s going to be very sore tomorrow,” the doctor said. “And she’ll need a full follow-up with her
doctor.”
“When can I go back to New York?”
“I’d give it a couple days before you get on a plane.”
“Can I have a minute with Ms. Revere alone?” Ryan said.
“I’m done,” the nurse who was putting the cast on said. It went from her toes to just below her knee. It was awful. Max hated it already.
They left, and Ryan made sure the door was closed. Then he leaned over and kissed her. Gently, as if he was afraid she’d break. “You’re so lucky you’re not dead.”
Max didn’t comment. Ryan’s voice sounded … different.
“What really happened?”
“I told you. I should have noticed I was being followed, but I was preoccupied. My fault, I’ll admit it. I had all this new information rattling around in my head trying to make sense of it. I was about fifteen minutes out of Kerrville when I saw the truck. I tried to get out of his way, but he hit me and pushed me over the railing. I was going to call you, but my phone is all busted. How did you know I was here?”
“Sean had a tracker on your phone.”
“I forgot I let him put it on.”
“He’s a smart guy.”
“I want to go. Please.”
“Stay here while I tell the doctor I’m perfectly capable of keeping my eye on you. And I need to track down whoever is investigating the hit-and-run.”
“Ten minutes.”
“Give me a little more time.”
“Eleven minutes.”
He kissed her again. “Hold that thought.”
* * *
When Ryan heard from the sheriff’s department that they caught the guy who had rammed Max off the road, thanks to three Good Samaritans who gave chase, he wanted to join Lucy for the interview. Lucy convinced him that the best thing for him to do was take Max to her hotel and find out exactly what she’d learned that put her on their radar.
Lucy and Nate went to the Kerr County jail, where Cesar Ynez was in holding. She talked to Jennifer Reed, who had just landed at the airport. They compared notes, and Reed was extremely happy. She was going to talk to the ADA and then the FBI and figure out how they wanted to pursue Harrison and Faith Monroe.
“He asked for a lawyer,” the guard said.
“Fine,” Lucy said. “I can still talk to him. Does he have a record?”
“Surprisingly, no. But I don’t know why. He has a prison gang tat on his arm, but there’s no record of him being in prison or arrested for anything in the state of Texas. We ran him through the federal database and came up dry as well.”
“Someone must have purged him.”
“Just watch yourself. One of the Good Samaritans had his jaw broken before another subdued him with a Taser. He’s damn lucky no one had a gun, he would have a dozen holes in him after they witnessed what he did to that woman.”
“You have a witness statement?”
“Multiple,” the deputy said. “Several people saw him intentionally ram her off the road. Her car flipped twice, she’s lucky to be alive. Then he floored it. He didn’t come willingly, but they got him.”
Lucy and Nate went inside the interview room and looked at Cesar Ynez. Immediately she saw that this was the man who threatened Stanley Grant. He was large, Hispanic, and had a serious burn scar on his right hand.
That meant he was also the man who tailed Max and Sean from Harrison Monroe’s office.
Nate took the lead. “We have you on felony hit-and-run. We know you are employed by HFM, an LLC operated by Harrison and Faith Monroe. You talk, you may get out of this with minimal time.”
He stared at them.
“Remaining silent isn’t going to help you,” Nate said. “We are going to take down your employers, sooner rather than later, so you should understand that cooperation is at a premium. We already have multiple people cooperating, so if you don’t step up you’re going to lose the opportunity to make a deal.”
Again, Ynez refused to speak.
Nate sat across from him talking about his options, then the guard stepped in. “Agents, the sheriff is here to talk to you.”
Nate stared at Ynez for a good minute, then he walked out with Lucy.
“He’s been inside,” Nate said. “Why’s there no record of it?”
“Because,” the sheriff said, stepping into the hall, “he’s Carl’s cousin. I know Cesar, and dammit, he’s going to tell me where Carl is.”
The sheriff stepped into the interview room followed by Nate. Lucy decided to watch from the observation room, along with another deputy who had accompanied the sheriff.
“Hank’s pissed off,” the deputy said.
“How’s Detective Douglas?” she asked.
“Conscious. Hank and I just came from the hospital. He’s going to make it, in fact already hates being laid up.” He glanced at Lucy, looked her up and down. “Hank’ll tell you, but Garrett is mad at himself, and mad at Carl, but said you got him thinking. Three years ago Garrett’s wife left him, he didn’t see it coming, and it threw him. His daughter had just left for college the day before his wife walked out, and he told Hank that he let Carl run with the case. Garrett’s a good cop, but he was going through a bad time.”
“I don’t hold grudges,” Lucy said, “and I’m really happy that he made it through surgery.”
They listened to the sheriff tell Cesar that Carl was wanted for attempted murder and suspected of a multiple homicide. If Cesar knew what’s good for him, he’d tell the sheriff where Carl was hiding.
But Lucy knew Cesar wasn’t going to talk. He was too seasoned to cave. He would take his chances with the system, might not even care if he went to prison. He worked for a lawyer, might figure the lawyer would get him off.
After a good twenty minutes, Hank and Nate came out. “We’re not letting him go. His lawyer is a slimeball coming up from the city, will make a play, but it’s after five, he’s not going to be arraigned until Monday, and hopefully by then we’ll have a solid case and be able to deny him bail. The fact that his cousin wiped his digital record—still don’t know how he did it, but I’ll find out—should help us, but I have to get his records directly from the prison and the files from archives on his previous arrests, both here and in Bexar County.”
“Anything you need from us, let us know,” Nate said.
“We’re relieved that Detective Douglas is going to be okay,” Lucy added.
“He sends his apologies. Though I don’t know that he needs to, you two came in here like a bull in a china shop.”
“We apologize for that,” Lucy said when it was clear Nate wanted to argue. “We met with resistance from Detective Chavez and then saw the incomplete files, so by the time we finally talked to Detective Douglas we were frustrated.”
“I can see that. I have all my men and women out there looking for Carl, but I don’t think he’s still here. We’ve checked every place he could be—his house, his friends, every cop, his sister, his ex-wife, a couple places he might hang out unnoticed. But every cop in the area is looking for him.”
Lucy and Nate looked at their phones simultaneously.
“Frank Pollero was apprehended in New York City trying to board a flight to London,” Lucy said. Then, to make peace with the sheriff, she said, “How about if we get on a Skype call and talk to him together?”
* * *
Thirty minutes later they were in the main conference room at the sheriff’s office and the New York FBI office at JFK, which had detained Frank Pollero, set up the video call.
Frank looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He clearly didn’t expect to be caught, and he didn’t look like he had a Plan B.
“Hello, Mr. Pollero, remember me?” Lucy said.
“Agent Kincaid.”
“I’m here with Sheriff Hank Marston and Agent Nate Dunning. I’m going to get right to the chase. We know the photo you gave the FBI of Denise Albright was actually of Kitty Fitzpatrick, a woman known to you. We know that Denise Albright didn’t sign the authorization papers, becau
se our handwriting expert confirmed that it was a forgery. We know that you conspired with an unknown party to steal three million dollars from the Kiefer accounts and frame Mrs. Albright.”
“No, no, I didn’t. That’s wrong.”
“Then you tell me what happened. You have one opportunity to tell me the truth, or this interview is over and you’ll be extradited back to Texas to face felony embezzlement and accessory to murder charges. You’ll be in prison for a minimum of twenty years and if you’re lucky you might see your granddaughter graduate from college.”
Frank couldn’t talk fast enough. “I was given that authorization form. I really thought that Mrs. Albright had signed it, I swear to God, but she didn’t come in. Simon Mills, who is also a longtime customer, brought it in. He said that Mrs. Albright was leaving town and that she wanted to process the forms that morning. I wasn’t going to do it, but Mr. Mills—well, I made a little bet with his club and lost, and then another little bet, and lost, and he was kind enough to let me pay in small installments. But I owed quite a bit, and he offered to forgive my loan. When the FBI came in the next week, I didn’t know what to think, but then another man, Carl Chavez, a detective, came in and said—oh, God—that he would kill my daughter if I changed my story. He said that! And when the FBI wanted surveillance photos, I panicked, so I went through everything we had and Kitty and Mrs. Albright look a lot alike, especially on those fuzzy tapes, and then everything was done. And no one came back and it was over. I felt awful that Mrs. Albright stole the money from Mr. Kiefer, and I knew it was in some way my fault, but I believed him. The detective told me exactly what to say and I stuck to the story, I swear to God. I didn’t know that they had been killed. I didn’t know!”
“Why did you run?”
“Detective Chavez came to me right after you were there, Agent Kincaid. During my lunch break. I left early to get my head straight, and he found me and showed me a photo of Penny and Gracie at the park. My baby girl and her baby. He said if I talked, they would die. He was serious, Agent Kincaid. He was serious. Please, please find someone to protect them.”
Lucy didn’t think they were in danger at this point because Chavez was on the run, but she assured Pollero that she would send officers to sit on Penny’s house for tonight at a minimum.
Cut and Run Page 34