“We were alone at his house.” Chelsea shook her head, more tears falling when her eyes opened.
Did she think Aaron would kill her if she talked?
Aaron’s alibi was slowly flying out the door with every falling tear.
“I went to his house pretty late. He said he had plans and to wait for him at his house until he got there. That’s all I can remember. I’m sorry.” She chewed on her bottom lip.
“What was the fight about? Why’d he hit you?”
“I accused him of cheating on me. I thought maybe he was seeing someone else. It upset him.”
Oh, shit. Adriana braced a palm on the glass for support.
“You ever fight before?” Mendez continued to jot down notes.
“No, but he’s got a lot of issues. I haven’t known him for very long, but he’s been struggling. Nightmares. PTSD,” she said around a sob.
“Any reason for you to believe Aaron would want Isaiah Bennett dead?” he asked.
“Is it true then? What the media has said about him?”
“I need you to answer the question, please.”
They’d found an arsenal of weapons at Aaron’s place earlier, none of which was the so-called smoking gun that took the shot yesterday. Not even any boxes of ammo to match the ballistics report.
“Aaron and I met at a coffee shop a few blocks from my work about four weeks ago. I was new to the area, and he was so friendly. We bonded over the fact we grew up only a town apart in Texas, and yet we’d never crossed paths until Charlotte. He, uh, asked me to dinner.” She sniffled. “So, no, after four weeks, he never mentioned some crazy plan to kill a presidential candidate. I would have alerted the authorities and broken up with him.”
“Have you heard from Aaron since your fight?”
“No.”
And yet, Adriana could practically hear the yes float from her lips.
She was lying, wasn’t she?
“Is this my fault? Did I upset him, and he snapped?”
“You’re not to blame.” Mendez reached across the table and pressed a hand over her forearm. The first sign of compassion she’d witnessed since meeting him. “But we need to know absolutely everything you can tell us about him. Places he frequents. A list of friends.”
“I never met his friends. And we mostly only spent time at his house in Matthews. He doesn’t have much money. He worked construction jobs for his cousin every once in a while, which was why he’d moved to Charlotte—there wasn’t any work back home when he got out of the military.”
Mendez didn’t press the topic of Aaron’s cousin. A team had already been dispatched to bring him in for questioning. Aaron hadn’t been hiding out at his place, which had been the hope, but that didn’t mean the cousin didn’t know where he might have run off to.
“You ever see this woman before?” Mendez placed a photo in front of her. Probably Sarah Reardon.
“Only on the news as the missing woman. My friend told me she was a guest at the hotel the day of the . . . you know.”
“I need to know if you’re familiar with her aside from that.”
She took the picture and lifted it. “We have a lot of guests coming and going. Aside from the news, I don’t recognize her.” She set the photo down.
“Did you ever provide Aaron with a service keycard so he could utilize the back entrance and—”
“Oh, God.” She covered her mouth with both hands. The tears didn’t feel as real this time when they streamed. Adriana’s mom would’ve called them crocodile tears. Why the change now?
“It’s okay,” he said in a soothing tone. “Please tell me what you can.”
And why was Mendez buying the act?
Chelsea took a few deep breaths and lowered her palms to her lap. “I didn’t give it to him, but last week when I got to work, it wasn’t in my purse like always. I thought I’d lost it. The card was terminated when I got a new one, though, so it shouldn’t have been able to work unless . . . unless he used my laptop to reprogram it.”
“And did he have access to your laptop?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. He’s been in my office at the hotel before.”
“Has he been there since you lost the card?”
Chelsea nodded.
He glanced at Rodriguez. “Call the hotel. We need her laptop.”
“This is my fault. He used me to shoot that man, didn’t he? He probably bumped into me on purpose that day at the coffee shop.” More tears fell. More fake tears. So different than earlier. “Was he even from Robert Lee?”
Robert Lee was a small town north of San Angelo, Texas, and it’d been where Aaron had gone to school. She’d read up on his background on her way back to the field office.
After the Navy, Aaron moved in with his parents, but he couldn’t find work, so he moved to Charlotte with a promise from his cousin for some construction gigs.
His parents insisted he’d never shoot an innocent man, but wouldn’t all parents say that?
“Did Aaron ever talk about Isaiah Bennett to you?” Mendez asked as Rodriguez rejoined Adriana.
“You believe her?” Adriana looked at Rodriguez as he lifted a phone to his ear, starting for the exit.
“I don’t know,” he said, then left the room to make his call.
“You already asked me that,” Chelsea said, bringing Adriana’s focus back to the interview.
“And I’m asking again.”
“No.” Her brows drew together. “Do you think Aaron will come after me? Will he know we talked? Am I going to be safe?” Real fear ebbed and flowed through her words this time, and if this was an act, it was one even Adriana was buying.
“We’ll be posting two cars outside your building. One in the back and one out front in case he shows up. Anything else you can tell us that might help?”
“I’m sorry, but if I think of something I can reach out.”
Mendez left the room a few minutes later and joined Adriana. Two other agents entered the interview room and escorted Chelsea out.
“Is it possible she knows more?” Adriana asked him. “Something is off. I can feel it.”
“You heard her. She practically convicted him with her statement.” He tapped the legal pad against the side of his thigh.
“Not exactly. She sounded conflicted.”
“Her boyfriend tried to kill a presidential candidate after he beat the shit out of her . . . how do you expect her to feel?”
Her mouth tightened as she fought for the right words. “I’d still like to look into her a bit more.” But would he let her? And would he give her phones back, already?
“Fine,” he snapped, his approval almost surprising. “But as far as I’m concerned, Aaron’s our shooter, and the sooner you get on board with that idea, the better.”
Chapter Ten
“What do we know about our man?” Knox asked Harper over speakerphone as they drove to the hotel to meet up with the rest of the team. Jessica, Asher, and Luke were setting up the temporary command center since they didn’t have any safe houses to operate out of in Charlotte.
“Model student in school. Joined the Navy at nineteen. Became a SEAL at twenty. Served for twelve years. Left for medical reasons a year ago,” Harper quickly stated. “He lived with his parents in Texas after he got out, then he moved to Charlotte and rented a home on the outskirts of the city. He’s been working freelance jobs for his cousin’s construction company.”
“Anything else that could be relevant?” A.J. asked. “Aaron said he’d been seeing a therapist. Can we get his doctor’s name? Should we look into his records?”
Harper was quiet for a moment. “You really want me to look into his personal VA files?”
“No,” everyone in the car said in unison, including A.J.
There were some things they couldn’t do, even for a mission.
“But if Aaron suffered from PTSD, the media will use that against him,” Knox commented.
“Which is ridiculous,” A.J. said from the back s
eat.
“What about the girlfriend? Anything on her?” Knox leaned forward, eying the mounted cell phone on the dashboard as Wyatt drove.
“Chelsea Baker,” Harper said. “Moved from Colorado to Texas five months ago after losing a job. She also moved in with her parents before uprooting to Charlotte for a job at the hotel about eight weeks ago.”
“Where in Texas? Any way we can see if contact was made between Aaron and her prior to Charlotte?” Liam asked.
“Her family lived in the suburbs of San Angelo, not far from Robert Lee, where Aaron was from. But she moved back to Texas after Aaron left—unless they knew each other when they were younger maybe,” Harper answered. “You think she’s an accomplice?”
“That would imply I think Aaron’s guilty.” He needed some positive news right now, and he’d take Aaron’s innocence as a win.
“And if he tried to kill your dad?” Wyatt glanced at Knox as he pulled into the hotel parking lot.
“Aaron wouldn’t have missed,” he repeated what A.J. had said earlier.
“We’re at the hotel now,” Wyatt told Harper and turned off the engine. “We’ll touch base after we meet up with Jessica and the others.”
“Copy that. Stay safe, guys,” she replied.
“Always,” Knox said and ended the call. They made their way to the suite on the seventh floor, three floors below his father’s room. “Glad to see you all here,” he said straight away at the sight of Jessica.
She reached for him and pulled him in for a hug, and Knox shot Asher a surprised look from over her shoulder. Asher smirked and pointed to his abdomen and mouthed, “It’s the hormones.”
Knox fought a smile before stepping back.
“How are your parents?” she asked, her eyes filled with concern.
“This can’t be easy for them.” Luke came up alongside his sister.
“I haven’t seen much of them since yesterday. My dad’s got a fundraiser thing in Atlanta Saturday that he doesn’t want to miss, so I know the Feds would like to get the shooter arrested before he leaves town.”
Of course, that happening would be easier said than done. There were still too many questions.
His shoulders slouched as he thought about Adriana. She’d texted she was safe that morning after going to Aaron’s, but it’d been radio silence since then. No returned calls or texts. He was going to lose his mind.
“Let’s hope the Feds don’t rush to any conclusions to get this wrapped up quickly.” A.J. sat on the sofa alongside the wall and kicked his cowboy boots up on the coffee table. “This place is more my speed. That office has way too many cooks in the kitchen for my taste.”
The hotel suite had two bedrooms, one on each side of the living area, and a kitchenette near the main door. Two three-person couches faced each other with a coffee table between them, and a desk was in front of the expansive window. This setup was more familiar to the guys than the federal building. They’d worked a number of cases over the years out of suitcases and hotel rooms. This was nothing new.
What was new was working alongside Adriana and hunting down an assassin who’d tried to take out his father. And, oh yeah, his dad happened to want the gig as commander in chief.
“DHS. FBI. Secret Service.” Wyatt popped open a suitcase stand next to the silvery gray couch on the right side, then swung a bag up on top of it. “Now NCIS. Yeah, it’s a bit crowded.”
“What are your thoughts on sharing intel with the Feds?” Luke strode farther into the room and walked to the desk. “This is your dad we’re talking about, so I’ll follow your lead.”
And it was their teams on the line . . .
Knox sat on the couch against the wall next to A.J. He dropped his elbows to his legs and allowed his hands to hang loose between his thighs.
“I have a feeling Mendez isn’t going to share any more intel with us.” And honestly, if he had Mendez’s job, maybe he’d do the same. Knox was too close to the case. He had way too much to lose, too. They’d probably have to operate on the sidelines and in the shadows. “I’m sure the Feds brought Aaron’s girlfriend and cousin in for questioning, and since we haven’t heard jack shit from them since they went to Aaron’s house this morning, it’s safe to assume Mendez thinks we leaked Aaron’s name to the press to buy him time to escape.”
Adriana would never believe that. He had no doubt. He hoped she didn’t get herself into trouble by defending him, though. As much as he wanted her kept out of harm’s way, he knew how much her job meant to her. To serve and protect was in her blood.
Asher retrieved a laptop from one of the bags and sat across from Knox. “We need to know what the cousin and Chelsea said to the Feds.”
“We might have to play by the rules on this one, though,” Luke said, admitting what no one wanted to hear. “There are too many eyes on us, and we can’t go perusing the FBI servers looking for intel they’re keeping from us.”
“Rydell stuck his neck out for us,” Jessica added, pulling a chair up to the desk where her computer was already set up. She’d barely been there for five minutes, and she was jumping straight to work. “And none of you think there’s a chance Aaron’s guilty, right?”
“I get that he’s on the run, which makes him look guilty,” A.J. began, looking at Wyatt across from him, “but he could be scared or trying to clear his name.”
“You know as well as I do that I don’t want any Teamguy wrapped up in this bloody mess,” Wyatt added, “but we also can’t write him off as a suspect because he served.”
Before A.J. could object, Jessica said, “The email. The girlfriend who works at that hotel. A gun license for the rifle used in the shooting. PTSD. Running from the cops. None of that bodes well for his defense.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the Feds found recon photos at Aaron’s place earlier,” Liam said with a grimace as he helped Wyatt unpack. “And I’m not saying that because I think he’s guilty, but—”
“Because all the evidence is pretty much packaged with a neat little bow,” Jessica finished for him.
“Sometimes, the simplest explanations are the truth.” Luke, the voice of reason. He was Bravo One, though, and he had to remain objective.
“But how many times has that been the case for us? Shit is never what it looks like.” There’d been times when people they’d trusted had turned on them, too. More times than he could count. That didn’t mean Aaron was guilty, but they couldn’t rule him out yet, either. “Shit, you okay?” Knox asked Jessica, noticing her leaning back in her chair, her skin growing pale.
“The morning sickness started hitting me on the drive here.” Her hand went to her abdomen.
“Why the hell didn’t you say anything?” Asher set aside his laptop and hurried to the desk as if she’d fallen even though she was seated.
“I didn’t want to worry you.” Of course that’d be the answer. This was Jessica. Stubborn like Adriana.
He wasn’t much different, though. He never shared his life as Bravo Five with Adriana. He didn’t want to lie or have her worry. He wanted to . . . protect her. He was tired of hiding so much of himself from his best friend, though. Tired of pretending omissions weren’t lies.
Asher helped Jessica stand and guided her to the couch as if she were six months and not six weeks pregnant.
“It’d be nice to talk to the cousin and girlfriend ourselves,” Luke said once it appeared Jessica wasn’t going to lose her lunch, “but I have the distinct feeling Mendez will boot us. We need to find this woman, Sarah, from the eleventh floor.”
Damn, he needed to fix this. Fix everything.
He had to figure out who the hell wanted his father dead before anyone else got hurt.
Did he truly believe Sarah Reardon was still alive? Mostly no.
After the shit he’d seen in his life, sometimes it could be hard to cling to hope.
But he’d also seen miracles performed by the teams. So, if anyone could make hope a reality, it was them.
Chapter E
leven
“Thank you for taking the time to speak with me.” Isaiah Bennett poured a glass of Scotch and offered the tumbler. It was beyond late, and they were inside the living room of his suite. She should’ve been at the FBI office, but when the guy you’ve been assigned to protect beckons, you go.
“I’m working,” she said with a gracious smile, “but thank you.”
He tipped his head to say okay then took a sip from his glass. “So, I know you’re very busy, but there was something I wanted to ask you.”
Busy was an understatement.
After questioning Chelsea, they’d interviewed absolutely everyone Aaron knew, and no one had any information that could help the case. The Feds assigned detail to Chelsea and the cousin in case they were lying or if Aaron decided to pay them a visit.
“Of course, sir,” she finally answered, and he waved her to the couch along the wall as he sat on the one across from her.
“Kathleen okay?” She’d meant to say Mrs. Bennett, but she’d known the family for forever, and she’d slipped.
Another reason business and personal shouldn’t be mixed. She’d have to learn to call him Mr. President if he was elected. Of course, maybe she would never have any interactions with him.
She thought of what Knox had said to her early that morning and took a deep breath, hoping the influx of extra oxygen would calm her down. The idea of losing her best friend because of her job made her feel as if she’d been the one punched in the face instead of Chelsea.
“Kathleen’s going over some talking points with my campaign manager in the suite next door.” He turned toward Chen, one of the Secret Service agents quietly standing against the wall. “Can we have the room?”
Chen nodded at Isaiah before leaving.
“How’s the case going? I obviously saw the news today. The media’s saying a SEAL sniper is responsible.” He leaned back and crossed his ankle over his knee, showing a polished shoe. “Does my boy know him?”
“Not personally, no.”
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