Griffin waited until everyone had calmed down again, then thanked parents and kids and sent them on their way. He asked the Sparkses to stay.
“She makes things up,” said Mrs. Sparks, a stout woman with her daughter’s green eyes. “I’m sorry she’s wasting your time, Agent Hammersmith. I’m always telling her to stop spinning tales, but she says she’s going to be an actress when she grows up and she wants to practice.”
Nina looked closely at her little sister. “Mel, you know this is really important, don’t you? We have to help find Linzie. Tell the truth, did you really see this man?”
Melanie whispered, “Yes, I swear I did, I promise,” and crossed her heart.
Griffin came down on his haunches in front of the little girl. “Tell me where you saw him, Melanie. And when.”
The little girl sent an agonized look at her mother, who looked ready to blast her. Then Mrs. Sparks drew in her breath and said, “Tell Agent Hammersmith what you saw, Melanie.”
Melanie looked down at her worn blue sneakers, the laces coming loose on her left foot. “I saw him at Buffett’s Hamburgers a week and a half ago, maybe it was last Tuesday. Nina and her friends let me go with them after my summer camp was over for the day.”
Griffin said to Nina, “Was it a Tuesday? A week and a half ago? Was Linzie with you?”
Nina had to think a minute, then said, “Yes, I remember. There were six of us.”
“Go ahead, Melanie.”
“He had on this cap, a baseball cap, it had a big Y on it, and a jacket and I thought that was weird, it was really warm, you know? He was standing next to a black truck, eating a hamburger, not sitting at one of the outside tables. Mrs. Buffett has them all under the shade trees.”
“What else did he do?”
“He ate the hamburger, really fast, and you know what? He didn’t toss his trash in the waste can. He dropped it on the ground. I remember thinking Mama would tell him not to be a yahoo, like she does us. He wiped his hands on his jeans, got in his truck, and drove away. That’s the only time I saw him.”
“Did he talk to any of the girls? To Linzie?”
“No.”
“I want you to close your eyes, Melanie, picture him standing there by his truck, all right? Good. Now, did he look at the girls? At Linzie?”
Melanie looked like she wanted to cry. “I don’t know, Agent, sir.”
“That’s okay. You did great.” Griffin shook the little girl’s hand. “Sheriff, we need to go speak to Mrs. Buffett.”
Sheriff Cruisie said, “Good idea, someone had to take his order for the hamburger.”
It was Mrs. Buffett herself, a woman of nearly eighty, wiry gray hair scraped back in a skinny bun, who’d served him. “Yep, a handsome young man, nice and polite, but he mumbled. I couldn’t believe it when he tossed his wrapper on the ground, left it for us to clean up. So it turns out he was still a dirty little kid, didn’t learn manners from his mama.” She shook her head.
“Did you notice if he looked at the teenage girls? Did he talk to them?”
“Nope, not that I saw. He didn’t make a big deal out of it since he wasn’t a teenage boy, he looked them over, sort of nodded, and went over to his truck. I don’t think any of the kids noticed him, too busy flirting. I’ll say this for him, he kept his truck mighty clean. So why’d he throw his wrapper on the ground?”
Carson said, “Like you said, his mama didn’t teach him manners.”
“Ain’t that the truth. You want one of my hamburgers?”
Carson turned down the hamburger, but she did buy a cup of french fries for the road, lots of salt, and walked beside a whistling Griffin to his car, Sheriff Cruisie nearly bouncing beside them.
Griffin said to the sheriff, “I’m going to take another trip to the Bodines’ house, have a nice long talk with Rafer. I think they might even be expecting me.”
“There’s no direct evidence, though,” Cruisie said, and shrugged. “I mean, who’s going to convict him because he happened to be here a week ago Tuesday eating a hamburger?”
Griffin said, “It’s another nail in his coffin at trial, as my former SAC in San Francisco would say. I think we’ll get him, Sheriff.”
Cruisie shook his head. “I don’t understand why Rafer Bodine would go around kidnapping teenage girls. Like he’s suddenly become a serial kidnapper? It doesn’t make sense to me. I’ve never heard anything bad about Rafer. You must already know his family’s a power in Gaffer’s Ridge, but Rafer? He’s always seemed to me to go with the flow, as the teenagers say. I pray to heaven he hasn’t killed them. No one could stand that, no one.
“To think he’s Sheriff Bodine’s nephew. It would be a huge blow. Would you like me with you to talk to Rafer Bodine?”
Griffin thought about it. He wanted Carson with him, and the sheriff was more useful to him here in Whytheville. “Sheriff, let me handle this first interview. I’ll keep you posted. I need you to show those photos around town, talk to neighbors and the businesses around the parking lot at Buffett’s. Spread your deputies in a wider circle.”
Sheriff Cruisie’s shoulders squared. Like the Drumms, he now had some work to do that could mean something. He shook Griffin’s hand, nodded to the gorgeous woman with him.
55
* * *
MORGANTOWN, VIRGINIA
REDEMPTION HOUSE
FRIDAY, LATE AFTERNOON
Athena looked out the window to see Jasmine leap from her car and race to the house. She burst through the front door, breathing so hard she was panting. “Athena, did you tell them Ellie’s dead? Tell them she was murdered? Did you find out any more? Do the police know who killed her?”
Athena fanned her hands. “You know the most of any of us, Jasmine, since you were interviewed by the FBI. We’re all as shocked and horrified as you are.”
Jasmine heard Cricket sob, saw her black mascara was smeared by her tears. She looked folded in on herself. As for Craig, his eyes were red, too, from crying. Jasmine shouted, “For heaven’s sake, Athena, Ellie didn’t just die, someone killed her. A robbery? Do you believe that?”
“None of us know what to believe. I do know everyone in the accounting department was interviewed. You told me two FBI agents met with you, Jasmine, asked you about the accident and about Ellie. Did they give you any idea of the direction they’re taking?”
Jasmine nodded. “Yes, they wanted to know not only about the accident but also about Justice Cummings. They don’t believe Ellie’s murder was a robbery, they believe Cummings and Ellie are somehow connected and that’s why the FBI is involved. They said they identified Ellie on video across the street from the accident. Athena, none of this makes any sense. Who would kill Ellie? Why?” She banged her fist against her palm.
“Listen, all of you. I can’t tell you who killed her, or why. It’s possible it was a break-in, as the news stories said. Or maybe her miserable ex-husband had her killed. You all know there was violence in their marriage and that’s why she divorced him. We certainly had nothing to do with it.”
Craig raised angry eyes to her face. “Fine, we know none of us had anything to do with Ellie’s”—he stumbled, sucked in a breath—“murder. Obviously Cummings didn’t have anything to do with it, he’s got to be injured, maybe dead. What about Artemis? And for once, let’s call her by her name—Claire Farriger. Her contacts may be important and far-reaching, but we hardly know her at all. She’d be capable of this, wouldn’t she? I mean, you told us she was once a CIA operative, a spy. She knows violence.”
“No, impossible,” Athena said, but she felt the spit dry in her mouth.
Jasmine said, “Athena, I called you last night, told you Ellie was frightened she’d been seen at Cummings’s house, that she could be identified. Did you tell Artemis? Craig’s right, let’s call her by her name—Farriger. Did you tell her?”
Athena had known Jasmine’s question was coming. She wasn’t about to tell them she also suspected Farriger. She had a feeling Farriger would
be capable of having her own mother killed if she was afraid her mother would give something important to her away. It made Athena sick to her stomach to think about it—Ellie sleeping, shot in the head. She’d always hated violence, wanted no part of it. But Ellie was gone, and she wouldn’t let her death blow them apart, they were too close to success. She said, “Listen to me, all of you. I said no, it was impossible. Well, I spoke to Artemis earlier. She was as shocked as the rest of us. And no, I didn’t call her last night, so she had no way of knowing Ellie was worried she’d been seen in Cummings’s neighborhood.
“This is a terrible blow, but we have to continue. We’re so close. We have to be ready by Monday.”
Craig said, “She could have found out herself. Listen, Ellie and the rest of us agreed we were willing to break the law to make our fortunes. The device is my own invention, after all. But none of us wanted any violence. We’re not killers. You’ve got to see this is getting completely away from us. First you talked us into kidnapping Cummings, and now Ellie is dead? My dear, sweet Ellie is dead?”
Had Craig and Ellie been lovers? Athena didn’t know. But she wasn’t about to let Craig, or Artemis, or anyone, blow up her plans. “Ellie was one of my dearest friends, Craig. We’ll all miss her terribly. But she wouldn’t have wanted us—wanted you—to quit now. She knew you were a genius, that you deserved your chance. We’re so close to becoming rich beyond your comprehension. Ellie wanted that, too, for herself and for us. Craig, will you be ready to go live on Monday?”
His eyes went back to his monitor, as she’d hoped. “I’ve already tested, Athena. The signal is still too weak. I told you we need more panels installed.”
“That’s already in progress, Craig. They’ll finish installing them by the end of the day Saturday. When they’re done, we’ll be able to hear a whisper.”
56
* * *
Athena walked down the short corridor, through the kitchen, and out the back door of Redemption House, the lovely colonial she’d bought several years ago for a country getaway, now their headquarters. It was set back a half mile from a little-used country road, a perfect spot, isolated enough for safety, but close enough to Bexholt to reach in under an hour.
She tossed her car keys in the air, caught them handily, and unlocked her silver Audi. She would get to Coverton and Bexholt with enough time to speak to her brother and dear daddy. She laughed. Daddy, in particular, would have a stroke if he knew what was going to happen, what she, his daughter—a mere woman—was making happen. She turned off the AC, opened the convertible top, and sang Katy Perry’s “Roar” at the top of her lungs.
Fifty-two minutes later, she parked in her personal space next to her brother’s at Bexholt. Her father’s space was on the other side of her brother’s, his gleaming black Bentley directly in front of the main entrance to Bexholt, of course.
She walked around to the passenger side of her Audi, opened the door, and shoved it against her brother’s driver’s side panel. A pity about another lovely gouge in his white Mercedes.
She strode through the main entrance into the huge gold marble-floored lobby with seasonal photos of Maryland on its white walls and smoothly morphed into her alter ego, Nikki Bexholt.
* * *
Nathan Bexholt, COO and heir apparent to his powerful father, Garrick Xavier Bexholt, turned from the large window overlooking the lovely three-acre park twelve floors below. His own office had the same awesome view of the small decorative lake. His sister Nikki’s office overlooked the Bexholt campus, their R&D buildings and the warehouse complex with its lines of shipping trucks, white with bright blue lightning bolts on their sides. He rubbed his neck, wished there was someone to massage the knots out, but that would have to wait. Crissy, his wife of fourteen years, was in Paris, probably on the lookout for an artist/lover with oily black hair and a concave chest who splashed red and black blobs on a white canvas. Who cared? They each had their own lives. Their two boys were at Andover, and thank heaven, in good standing. He turned to face his father, who wasn’t wearing his usual go team expression. He looked tired, pensive.
Nathan said, “What a day. I still can’t believe it—Eleanor Corbitt, dead, murdered. I sent everyone in accounting home after a Detective Raven of Metro finished interviewing, even hauled two employees out of the bathroom to speak to them. Apparently there were some FBI agents here as well.” He shrugged. “Of course, no one seemed to know anything helpful. It’s a pity she didn’t have any close friends here at work.” He rubbed his neck again. “I knew her, Dad, I knew Eleanor. She was nice, competent, always on point, on the quiet side, but really sort of intense—” Nathan paused, saw his father raise a salt-and-pepper brow, and added, “She kept her private life very private. I never heard any gossip about her after she divorced her husband, a gold-plated jerk, I heard.” Nathan turned away to look out at the park. “I have no clue what she did when she left work every day. I hope whatever it was didn’t lead to this.”
Garrick Bexholt joined his son at the window. “Your mother told me she saw Eleanor once in one of those women’s centers she likes to support.” He shrugged, added with a dash of contempt, “You know several of the women’s shelters are on her endless string of charities.”
Nathan frowned. “Maybe one of the husbands didn’t like what Eleanor was doing, so killed her.”
“Who knows?” Garrick asked without much interest. “Maybe you should pass that along to the Metro cops. Or the FBI, or whoever. Ah, here’s your sister.” He looked down at his Piaget watch, shook his head. “Late,” he said to Nathan. “But what can you expect from a woman?”
Garrick Bexholt watched his strong-willed, outspoken daughter stride through the door, his secretary, Margo, standing behind her looking helpless. Bexholt merely shook his head, mouthed, Go home. Margo, no expression on her face, nodded and turned away.
Garrick kept a smile firmly in place as Nikki walked up to him, gave him a light kiss on his cheek.
“Well, where have you been? The FBI are at your office, been there at least five minutes now, waiting for you.”
“Did you and Nathan speak to them?”
Garrick said, “Of course not. Why would I?”
Nathan said, “I really wasn’t available when they were here. Dad’s right. Why would they want to talk to us? To me? What could I possibly know? Ah, but they want to speak to you.”
“Well, that makes sense. After all, I supervise the accounting department. It’s a pity, but I really don’t have anything useful to tell them. They can wait a bit longer.”
Nathan said, “FYI. Since you were supposedly in Washington all day, I went ahead and sent everyone in accounting home. They were all either crying or sitting there doing nothing anyway. So why not dismiss them? It makes for good employee relations. I’m sure you would have done the same thing, wouldn’t you?” He saw she wanted to blast him, reveled in it a moment, but instead she said, “Why did you say ‘supposedly’? Of course I was in Washington all day.”
Nathan shrugged. “My assistant tried to call you, but got booted to voice mail. Then she called one of the staff and was told you’d left. I asked Dad, but he didn’t know where you were, either.”
Garrick said, “Where did you go, Nikki? Overseeing the Federal Reserve conference is top priority, you know that.”
Nikki gave a shrug to mimic her brother’s. “I had some personal business to take care of, didn’t take long at all. I saw you messaged, Nathan. I ignored it.” She harked back to what he’d done, still pissed. He was like their father, always sticking his nose in her business. The accounting department was her business, not his, not their father’s—well, it was their father’s, but maybe not for all that long.
Nathan watched her chin go up, watched her eyes flash from calm to fire, and got ready for the show. She was so predictable, the little bitch. “You should have called me, asked me.”
He gave her a smarmy smile he knew she hated. “As I said, no one was getting any work done. As I
also said, I couldn’t reach you, and it was good for employee morale.” Nathan studied his younger sister’s face, not much expression now, but her eyes told everything if you knew how to read them. Even when she was a little girl, he knew when she was lying to him, knew when she was trying to stab him in the back. It was a good bet, given her mood, she’d put another dent in his car door. Well, that was why he had two assistants, one of whom would get the car fixed without any bother to him. Let her pull her passive-aggressive crap, it didn’t matter. Nathan had come to realize his younger sister not only disliked him, she hated him to his soul. She’d be ecstatic if poof, he was gone forever. In odd moments, he’d wondered if she’d kill him if she knew she could get away with it. He’d never been particularly mean to her, usually simply ignored her. He was her senior by six years, after all. As an adult, he continued to ignore her and her fake praise when she couldn’t get out of giving it, her backbiting, her jealousy, her attempts to make him look bad in their father’s eyes. He marveled at how blind she seemed to what his father was to his core—Garrick viewed women as underlings, to be told what to do, to give him sex when he wanted it, however he wanted it, didn’t matter if the woman was his wife or not. Didn’t Nikki realize he tolerated her at best? Gave her what he had to when there was no other choice? Nathan knew their father would never give her what she wanted in the end—and that was the big chair. No, she’d stay planted in any chair he gave her, forever. Nathan vaguely remembered when he was small seeing his mother stand up to her husband. He remembered the fight, the blow to her ribs, her tears and groans, then the awful silence, and at last his father’s soft, cold words: Don’t cross me again, Kyra, or I’ll break your ribs next time, shave off that pile of hair you’re so proud of. Nathan never said a word, not then, not to this day.
He shook his head, he didn’t like to remember that night. With Nikki, his father pretended to show respect, to give her power in Bexholt, since she’d worked her butt off in every department he’d assigned her to, probably expecting her to fail spectacularly. Only she hadn’t. And now she’d taken this Federal Reserve assignment—seeing that the hotel conference room, the entire floor, was secure from any electronic surveillance or simple eavesdropping. He could have easily taken care of it himself, but oddly, Nikki had begged their father to be put in charge of this one, to work alongside all the other security teams. So her father had hidden his contempt again, and let her have her way.
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