Code of Valor

by Lynette Eason

  “Sure. And just so you know, no one’s been able to find Hightower. He seems to be missing.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since last Tuesday.”

  “The day before Heather’s attack?”

  “Yes.”

  She rubbed her eyes and cleared her throat. “This is all so discombobulating.”

  “That’s a word?”

  She laughed. “Yes. Okay, so . . . back to the guys on the boat.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “They look like guards or something. Like they’re keeping a watch. I don’t see any weapons, but it’s just their stance or something.”

  He looked over her shoulder and she decided she really liked his nearness. “I see what you mean,” he said.

  Click. Zoom. Move on to the next person.

  Click. Zoom—

  She sat straight up, her head bumping his chin. She knew Jeremy was involved but seeing him on her screen made it suddenly real. “Sorry. But David did a really good job zooming in on him.” He rubbed his chin while she pointed at Jeremy. “I knew he was connected to all of this, of course. I mean, it all started with him and now this.”

  “What do you mean, ‘started with him’?” Brady asked.

  “If I hadn’t seen him come into the bank, I might never have discovered the transactions.”

  “You would have. Eventually.”

  “Maybe, but not as quickly, for sure. What’s he doing there?” She went to the next picture. “And here. He’s on the deck, looking like he’s going to jump off or something.”

  “You notice something else?” Brady asked. “The angle of that picture is different.”

  “What?

  “Heather moved. Jeremy’s looking right at the camera.”

  Emily zoomed closer. His eyes locked onto hers and she shuddered. “I see what you’re saying. He saw her, didn’t he?”

  “It sure looks like it.”

  “Well, I guess that answers how they knew she had the pictures. If Jeremy saw her, he would have recognized her.”

  “Go back to the first picture for a second.”

  She did.

  “See that?” he said. “In that picture, the dinghy’s on the swim platform.”

  “Okay. So?”

  “So, the larger boats sometimes have a smaller one attached. In one of the later pictures, the dinghy’s gone.”

  She clicked between the two pictures. “Where’d it go?”

  “In the water, I’m sure.”

  “But . . .” The light went on for her. “So you think Jeremy sank the boat?”

  “Looks like it to me.”

  She gave a slow nod. “That would make sense. Once he sank the larger boat, he’d need to get away pretty fast. The dinghy would allow that.” She paused. “But why would the other men be reported missing? Why wouldn’t they just be on the dinghy with Jeremy?”

  “Could be any number of reasons.”

  “Originally, you thought they went down with the boat. If they did and Jeremy didn’t, then . . . he killed them, didn’t he?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know.”

  “But you’re thinking it.”

  “I’m thinking it’s not such a stretch.”

  “But why?”

  Brady shrugged. “Too many witnesses to what he was doing? A disagreement about something? Could be anything.”

  “What about Frank?”

  “Looks like he and Jeremy made the escape together.” His gaze met hers. “I think we need to turn everything over to Linc and let him and the FBI take it from here.”

  She returned to her list and deleted Connection between Nicholas Raimes and Martin Burnett? and typed Jeremy Hightower in place of Nicholas Raimes. “If Jeremy saw her watching him and he was doing something illegal on the boat, then he’s the one who would’ve gone after Heather.”

  “It’s a logical theory.”

  “We need to know if there’s a connection between Jeremy and Martin Burnett.”

  Emily studied her notes and found nothing useful, but . . . “What we really need is to find Heather’s car—and Heather.”

  “I agree. Unfortunately, no one’s been able to locate the car yet.”

  “Well, what about this? We know they were going up I-26, right?”

  “Yes. East.”

  “So we only need to check one side of the highway. Most service stations and restaurants have cameras. What if you ask David to examine the cameras of those gas stations and restaurants at each exit where it would make sense for him to get off if he needed to stop for gas and food? If he was driving Heather’s car, he was going to need gas. She was always running low. He might not have gotten far before he had to fill up.”

  Brady nodded. “It’s not a bad idea.”

  “Of course, if she chose that day to fill up, she’ll have had a full tank and my idea will be a bust.”

  “Also possible.”

  She sighed. “I know it’s a long shot, but it might be worth spending the time on.”

  “I’ll call David and ask him to revisit this.”

  “Thanks.” She leaned her head back against the sofa and stared at the ceiling, the 911 call echoing in her memory. Heather. God, please, let her be alive.

  Sunday, October 27

  20

  Brady stepped into the den area and ran a hand through his still wet hair. A few hours of sleep and a hot shower had done wonders for his disposition and helped recharge his brain. Just as he was about to grab his laptop and check his email, Mary Beth walked in. “Brady? Izzy’s here. She just drove up.”

  “Did I miss her call saying she was coming?” He checked his phone.

  “No, she and I were talking and she said she’d just come on out because she had something she needed to talk to you about.”

  “Okay. Tell her where we are, will you?”

  “Sure.”

  Mary Beth left, and within seconds, his sister strode into the room and took a seat on the sofa. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” He studied her. She was practically vibrating. “Spill it.”

  “What makes you think I’ve got anything to spill?”

  He simply raised a brow and she gave a dramatic sigh. “Okay, I’ve been running around like a chicken with my head cut off. Guess where I just came from?”

  “No clue.”

  “And you don’t want to guess.”

  “Iz . . .”

  “Jordan and I discovered Martin Burnett had a second house.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. David found it. It’s about ten minutes from here. Around five thousand square feet of super nice with a four-car garage.”

  “He does like his vehicles, doesn’t he? Were any of them actually there?”

  Izzy chuckled. “Yep. Found that Cadillac sedan you were looking for. It’s being towed to the lab’s garage as we speak. They’ll be checking for DNA to match Emily and the guys who snatched her.”

  “What about the classic?”

  “Got that one too. And, of course, the car he was in when he was killed.”

  “Right. What else?”

  “They found bank records with some pretty big cash deposits. His neighbors said he worked third shift at a local bar, but if that’s the going pay for tips these days, I’m heading down to find me a new job.”

  “So, where did the deposits come from?” he asked.

  “Working on that,” Izzy said, “but since they were cash, it’s going to be hard to find out.”

  “Yeah, I know. We need to trace his whereabouts. Any known associates?”

  “That bar he’s supposed to work at is real enough. While he wasn’t an employee, he was a pretty regular customer.”

  “So, who did he talk to?”

  “One of the waitresses said he slipped her a card and told her to call him if she was ever interested in making some extra cash.”

  “Did she call him?”

  “She said she did, but after they talked, she ‘
got bad vibes’ and decided against following through with meeting him.”

  “Meeting him where?” Brady asked.

  “She gave me the address and it’s just an apartment building not too far from where Emily and her family were held.”

  “Can you check it out?”

  “Heading that way when I leave here.”

  “Can you pull his phone records too?”

  “Jordan’s working on it. I’ll let you know if we come up with anything else. And when I hear something on the DNA from the Cadillac, I’ll let you know that too.”

  “Thanks, Sis.”

  “Yep.”

  “And one more thing. We found something kind of interesting.”

  “What’s that?” Brady asked.

  Izzy pulled a business card from her pocket and handed it to him. “This. Does the name Paul Bailey ring any bells?”

  Emily stepped into the room just in time to hear the name. She gasped. “Paul Bailey?”

  Izzy’s eyes narrowed. “I take it you know him?”

  “Yes, he’s the one who moved into the apartment next to Heather’s while his home is being renovated.” Emily took a seat on the sofa. “He’s living with his cousin Claire.”

  Brady raked a hand through his hair, then settled onto the couch next to Emily. “I think we need an in-depth background check on Mr. Bailey.”

  Izzy nodded. “Already sent that request in to David.”

  “Poor David, he’s being overrun lately,” Emily said.

  “He can handle it. It might take him a little while, but he’ll find what we need.”

  “Paul Bailey. That’s too weird.” Emily’s gaze darted from one person to the next. “The more you guys find out, the more confusing this gets. What does Paul Bailey have to do with Martin Burnett, the man who kil—attacked Heather?”

  Brady reached for her hand and squeezed. She found herself grateful for his comfort. In fact, she relished it.

  “I’m hoping Bailey can help clear up that question,” Izzy said.

  Emily rubbed her tired eyes. Would life ever return to normal? No. Not without Heather. Nothing would ever be normal again. Grief slammed her and she swallowed.

  “When are you going to see him?” Brady asked Izzy.

  “Soon. His secretary said he was out showing a property but was finishing up and would be back in his office in about an hour.”

  “His secretary works on Sunday?”

  “Apparently, when Paul works, she works. Real estate is a seven-day-a-week job.”

  “Kinda like being a cop, huh?”

  Izzy smirked. “I told her that we could come to his office or he was welcome to meet us at the station, but we needed to speak to him today.”

  “If you wind up going to his office, let me know and I’ll meet you there,” Brady said. “I’d love to see Bailey’s face while he’s answering your questions.”

  “Sure.”

  “And me,” Emily said.

  Izzy shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’d be too exposed.” Izzy’s phone rang before Emily could protest. “Excuse me. That’s Bailey’s secretary now.”

  She stepped outside the den with the phone pressed to her ear. Emily didn’t let her gaze waver from Brady’s. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

  “You’re not doing nothing,” Brady said. “You’re working on finding that financial trail that leads us back to the big boss.”

  She pursed her lips, then nodded. “Yes, I could do that, but I’m still going.”

  He scowled. “You’re safe here, Emily.”

  “I know. And I appreciate it, but these people have involved my family and my friends. They didn’t ask for that and I feel responsible. If Paul’s had a part in any of this craziness, I want to be there to hear firsthand what’s said. And, like you, watch his face when he says it.”

  Izzy stepped back into the room. “That was Bailey’s secretary. He’s on his way to the station. We’ll be in Interrogation Room number 2.”

  Emily stood. “I’m going.”

  Izzy and Brady locked eyes. Brady sighed. “Fine, but you’re wearing body armor.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Emily sat on the other side of the mirror and bit her lip while Izzy and Jordan sat opposite Paul Bailey in the interrogation room. “We appreciate you coming in like this,” Izzy said.

  “No problem.”

  “Sorry the accommodations are lacking, but this is all we had available.”

  Paul smiled, seeming at ease and not at all concerned about being questioned. “Like I said, it’s not a problem. What can I do to help?”

  “How do you know Martin Burnett?”

  “I don’t.” Paul never hesitated or blinked when he answered, and Emily found herself inclined to believe him.

  “Then why did we find your business card in his home?”

  He raised a brow. “I really don’t know. I’m a realtor. I give my card out to anyone and everyone—probably twenty a day. It’s how I do business. I realize that most of those end up in the trash, but every once in a while, it pays off. I guess our paths crossed at some point and I gave him a card.”

  Emily could see that. Burnett could have come by that card in any number of ways.

  Linc sat next to her, his attention focused, head tilted.

  “What do you think?” she asked. “Is he telling the truth?”

  “For some reason my gut’s saying no. But I don’t have a thing to base that on.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I have no clue. What he said makes perfect sense.”

  “I agree.”

  “So, why is your gut grumbling?”

  His lips tilted. “Besides the fact that I’m hungry?”

  “Yes.”

  He rubbed his chin and shook his head, his eyes back on the man in question. “No clue.”

  “I’d think you’ve been in this business long enough to have learned to listen to your gut.”

  Linc turned to look at her. He gave a short nod. “Yeah. You’re right.”

  She shrugged. “So, you just need to keep digging deeper into Mr. Bailey until you figure it out?”

  “Exactly.” He turned back to the scene on the other side of the glass.

  Jordan leaned forward. “I just have a question about your cousin.”

  “Cousin?” Paul blinked. “Oh yes. Claire.”

  “Right.”

  Emily jerked. “Did you see that? He went blank for a split second when Jordan mentioned his cousin.”

  “I did see that.” Linc paused. “Have you seen Claire lately?”

  “No.” Emily frowned. “Come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time I saw her.”

  “I just have bad feelings all around about this guy.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “Keep an eye on him.”

  “What do you want to know about Claire?” Paul asked.

  “Could we have her number? We’d like to ask her if she saw anything the night Heather disappeared. Or if she saw anyone hanging around Heather’s apartment in the days before Heather disappeared.”

  “Claire’s been on a business trip with a coworker, but I can have her call you.”

  “Could you just give us her number?”

  Paul gave a small laugh. “Sure.” He rattled off a number and Izzy wrote it down.

  “A couple of more questions, if you don’t mind.”

  Paul shrugged.

  “Have you seen anyone coming or going from Heather’s apartment since she disappeared? Any unusual vehicles or noticed any strange noises?”

  “No, nothing like that, I’m sorry.”

  The door opened behind Emily and she could see Brady’s reflection in the glass. He stepped inside the room and shut the door. “Anything interesting?” he asked.

  “Not really,” Linc said. “He’s got a real good excuse as to why a hired assassin has his business card, but the
re’s just something off about him.”

  “He’s looking a little more tense now,” Emily said. “Ever since Jordan brought up his cousin. Now I’m wondering if he’s even related at all—and where Claire is.”

  Linc pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’ll see if Annie can find out the answers to those questions.”

  Izzy stood. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Bailey. We appreciate you coming in.”

  Paul shook her hand, then Jordan’s. “I’ll be sure to let Claire know you want to talk to her.”

  “That would be great.”

  Jordan escorted Paul out of the room and Izzy turned to look at the mirror with a raised brow. “Meet me in the tactical planning room if it’s open? My desk space is too small to gather around. Grab some coffee and let’s chat.”

  Linc, Brady, and Emily filed out, down the hall, and into another room. A round table that seated twelve sat in the middle. The coffee station at the back drew Emily, and she helped herself, then took a seat at the table.

  Brady settled beside her and Linc on the other side of Brady, who now had his phone out and was tapping the screen.

  “Who are you calling?” Emily asked.

  “Claire.”

  She raised a brow and he set the phone on speaker. A cultured, if subdued voice filled the air. “Hi, this is Claire. I’m sorry I can’t talk right now. Leave your number and I’ll call you back soon.”

  “Is that her voice?” Brady asked her.

  “Yes. Sounds like her.”

  He frowned and tucked the device into his pocket as Izzy stepped inside the room, her phone pressed to her ear. “Yeah. Okay. Great.” A sigh. “Right. I’ll tell them.” She hung up and dread curled in Emily’s stomach.

  “What is it?” Emily asked.

  “Owen Parker was found dead in the bathroom about an hour ago. Head wound. Looks like he slipped and fell, hitting his head on the wall.”

  Emily pressed her palms to her eyes. “He said they would kill him.” She lowered her hands, wondering why she felt sorry for the man. But she did. He’d tried to kill her, but—

  “He was under guard,” Brady said. “We told them to watch him. What happened?”

  Izzy shook her head. “He slipped away from the guard watching him in the yard. I don’t know how.”

  “We may never know.”