by Karen Rose
Hyatt placed a wooden dinette chair facing the sofa. “Miss Holden, if you please.”
Grayson’s eyes narrowed. Despite the “please,” it was an obvious attempt to put Paige in a position of being the interrogated, answering to a tribunal of stern-faced law enforcement. Paige’s smile was pleasant. “With all due respect, I’ll stand. You’re welcome to sit here if you’d like. Although it doesn’t look as comfy as the chair you were sitting in.”
The men stared at her, then IA’s Gutierrez snorted. “I’ve got bunions. I’m sitting.”
The others followed, sitting on the more welcoming chairs. From the corner of his eye Grayson saw Stevie hide a smile. Hyatt wasn’t her favorite person, but Stevie was a good cop and respected the chain of command. Hyatt crossed his arms, not bothering to hide his scowl. Paige hadn’t made a friend, but she’d asserted her place in the pack.
Good for you, Grayson thought, leaning against the counter, prepared to step in if needed. Paige seemed relaxed, but he knew better. The clenching and relaxing of her hands gave her away. He’d seen her do it before, trying to keep herself calm.
Paige told the whole story, finishing with the attack on Logan and his mother. The only parts she’d left out were the personal moments between the two of them, although she needn’t have bothered. Grayson had already been taken to task by Commander Williams for becoming too personally involved. It had been an exchange throughout which Anderson had been conspicuously silent.
She took a few seconds to look each man in the eye. “That’s all.”
“That’s hardly all, Miss Holden,” Hyatt said aggressively. “You’ve made a serious allegation of police involvement, both in the murder of Elena Muñoz and the framing of her husband. But you have a habit of accusing cops of things, don’t you?”
Grayson’s hackles rose. Hell, no. He almost stepped in, but Paige beat him to it.
“My accusation against two officers was proven,” she said calmly, “in a court of law.”
“This is a different court,” Gutierrez said. “We need to find you credible.”
She lifted her chin. “What would make me more credible in your eyes? Sir?”
“What do you believe motivated the attack on you and your friend last summer?” Commander Williams asked kindly, but Grayson wasn’t fooled. Hyatt was always the bad cop. Williams was being good cop. Paige’s glare said she’d figured this out.
“If you are asking if I did anything to provoke the attack, then no,” she said coldly. “I absolutely did not. If you are asking if I am placing sole blame on the heads of the four attackers, two of which also happened to be police officers, then yes, I absolutely am.”
“Why don’t you tell us what happened, Miss Holden?” Williams asked, still kindly.
Her jaw was taut. “It’s all in the police reports.”
“I’d like to hear it from you,” Williams said. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
“Yes, of course you would,” she said. “There were four men. One was married to my friend. She’d accused him, a cop, of domestic abuse. He was angry with me for interfering in his efforts to ‘bring his wife back into line’ and because I once made him look bad after he’d attacked her.”
“So you made him angry,” Williams said evenly. “Then?”
“He complained to some friends. And they came to teach me a lesson.”
“Had you ever met or had contact with the other assailants?” Williams asked.
“Not that I know of. One was never caught, so I don’t know for certain who he was.”
Grayson stiffened. She hadn’t told him that one of them got away.
“The men forced their way into our women’s center. They were masked. And armed. Thea’s husband put a gun to her head. The others attacked. Two weren’t trained to spar. The third was. He was also a cop, as we later found out. I called 911 as they came in. My cell was in my pocket. Everything was recorded.” She lifted a sardonic brow. “In the event you don’t find me credible enough.”
“How did you stop them?” Gutierrez asked.
“I threw one of the men into the wall. He was stunned. The second I kicked in the ribs, but the third grabbed me from behind. He was the cop who would later break into my home. He had me in a choke hold and I was… struggling.” She swallowed, her calm evaporating. “The intruder with the broken ribs got up and started punching.”
“He wasn’t a police officer,” Hyatt said, and Paige’s eyes narrowed bitterly.
“No, but his punches still hurt. The cop behind me tightened his hold and gave his club to the non-cop, who struck me with the club, in the head, ribs, and legs. They were all laughing. ‘Not so tough now, are you, bitch?’” She cleared her throat. “They, um, talked about what they’d do to me when they’d knocked me down to size.”
Grayson realized he’d been holding his breath, trembling with rage. That she’d let him touch her at all was a fucking miracle.
“I’d started to see stars when my friend Thea made her move. She tried an evasive technique I’d taught her. She succeeded in twisting out of her husband’s hold.”
“But he still held the gun to her head,” Williams said.
“Yes.” Paige swallowed, tears welling in her eyes. She didn’t blink, but she didn’t look away from the men watching her, either. “She startled him and he fired. The bullet went through her neck and struck him under his arm. Pierced his artery. She was dead in seconds. He lasted a few minutes more. That she died trying something I taught her…” Her voice broke. “That’s hard to live with.”
The room had gone utterly silent. Paige cleared her throat again. “The cop choking me let me go so that he could help Thea’s husband. I had a knife in my bag and was trying to get it when I… dropped like a rock. The first man I’d stunned came to and he had a gun. He’d shot me, here.” She rubbed her shoulder.
“The men ran, except for Thea’s husband, who was dead. The medics were almost too late. I nearly bled out, but the docs sewed me up. The three men were still at large. I couldn’t identify them, except to say that one of them would have broken ribs and they’d called the guy who choked me ‘Mike.’ The hospital sent me home a few days later.”
“When one of them came back,” Commander Williams said.
“Yes. The cop who’d choked me. He was afraid I could ID him, once the trauma wore off. My best friend, also a cop, saved me and cuffed him.”
“The friend who arrested him is a decorated homicide detective in Minneapolis,” Stevie said. “Thea’s husband and Mike Stent, the officer who choked her, were cousins. The man who hit her with the club was Stent’s brother. He was picked up the day after.”
Paige gave her a surprised look and Stevie smiled encouragingly. “I could see that telling your story wasn’t going to be easy for you,” Stevie said, “so I went to another source. Detective Hunter says hi, by the way. It’s all documented, Commander.”
“I know,” Williams said. “I made some calls of my own last night, after Mr. Smith requested this meeting. What about the man who shot you, Miss Holden?”
Paige’s eyes narrowed at the commander. “You made calls. You already know.”
“I don’t,” Gutierrez said, sounding a little annoyed, and she shrugged.
“Best guess is that he was Thea’s husband’s brother. His mother was his alibi and there was no evidence putting him at the scene. He’s… disturbed. Still blames me. For months after, he followed me, watching me. Never said anything, never approached. The kid knew how far he could go before he was charged with stalking or harassment.”
“How did you make him stop?” Gutierrez asked.
“I moved here,” she said flatly.
“Have you seen him here?” Grayson asked, hearing in his voice the menace he felt.
“No. My friends keep an eye on him. He’s going to university like a good boy.” She met each of their eyes, clearly exhausted. “Look, I’m here because I heard the dying declaration of a murdered woman. She blamed a cop. If you don�
�t find me credible, then don’t. If you believe me, fine. Either way, I’ve done my duty and no more blood is on my hands.” She grabbed her backpack. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”
“I believe you about Muñoz,” Hyatt said. “At least I believe you believe this.”
“Gee,” Paige said, her mouth smiling, but her eyes angry. “Thanks.”
“We’d like the victim’s flash drive before you leave,” Gutierrez said.
Paige took a plastic Baggie from the pouch of her backpack. Grayson had asked Joseph to take her by her bank on the way. “This is Elena’s.” She gave it to Gutierrez.
“You touched the drive?” Hyatt asked and she nodded, warily.
“Yes. I needed to see what it was so I could know what to do with it.”
“I assume you kept a copy?” Williams asked.
She looked Williams squarely in the eye. “Yes, sir. I absolutely did.”
“I would have done the same,” Williams admitted. “Thank you, Miss Holden.”
Hyatt stood. “I hope it goes without saying that you are now out of this investigation. The state’s attorney’s office and the police department will take it from here.”
She nodded again, dutifully. “Yes. Of course. Sir.”
Which was her way of telling them to fuck themselves, Grayson thought. “If we’re done dredging up Miss Holden’s past, I’d like to get to work.”
“As would I,” Gutierrez said. “We’ll begin our internal investigation. You, Mr. Smith, will begin reinterviewing the witnesses from the original trial.”
The men nodded to Paige as they filed out, until only Grayson, Stevie, and Charlie Anderson remained. Anderson had said not one single word during the entire exchange, but Grayson had never forgotten he was in the room.
Anderson stayed where he’d stood for the entire meeting, leaning against the door to the bedroom. From there he spoke. “Detective Mazzetti, could you see Miss Holden is taken home? I need to speak with Mr. Smith. Alone, please.”
Grayson said nothing. Something was up. Something was wrong. “What’s this about, Charlie?” he asked when Paige and Stevie were gone.
“I was going to ask you the same thing. Yesterday you were a logical prosecutor.”
Hot anger mixed with cold dread. “And today?”
“You’re throwing your career away on that woman,” Anderson said.
“My relationship with Miss Holden, whatever it is or is not, is none of your business.”
“It is when you disrupt my office. I came to tell you that you’re reassigned.”
Grayson could only stare. “What?”
“You’ll transfer your caseload to Joan Danforth. You’ll take her cases.”
He shook his head, hoping he wasn’t hearing right. “But she’s in the fraud division.”
“Yes, she is. You’ve been working Homicide too long. You’ve let it become personal.”
“What about this investigation?”
“Joan will take the lead. I will assist her in any way I can, but she’s a very competent attorney. Well respected on both sides of the aisle.”
Grayson’s mind was reeling. “This is insane. You can’t just move me.”
“Oh, yes. I can. I absolutely can,” Anderson said acidly, mocking Paige’s words. “You should be grateful. I’m saving your career.”
Grayson’s eyes widened as the words sank in. “My career does not need saving.”
“When this investigation opens up, you might see yourself in a different place.”
“What the fucking hell does that even mean?”
“You tried the man. You’re the one who got the conviction.”
“Because there was evidence,” Grayson said through gritted teeth.
Anderson’s almost amused look had Grayson staring, stunned. “Oh my God,” he whispered. “You knew. You knew Muñoz didn’t do it.”
“Don’t be a fool,” Anderson said quietly. “Five years ago you had promise, but you were no superstar. Now you get the good cases. The winnable ones that give you that conviction record you’re so proud of. The high-profile ones that get your face on the news. The Muñoz case got you noticed by all the right people, who will now wonder if you possibly could have been that naive. If yes, then how savvy are you really?” He lifted a brow. “How long do you think it will take them to figure out where all your zeal in that courtroom really came from?”
Grayson’s blood went ice-cold. “What are you talking about?”
“Muñoz was a big, bad Hispanic who murdered a blond coed. Sound familiar? You were the perfect choice to prosecute.”
No. Grayson opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. This isn’t possible.
“Take a few days off, Mr.…” Anderson paused. “…Smith. Think about it. I have every confidence that you’ll agree that abandoning this case is in your best interest. And that of your mother as well.” With that, Anderson left the room.
Knees weak, Grayson sank into a chair. Oh God. Oh my God. He knows. How does he know? How did he find out? We were so damn careful.
Dully he stared at the tabletop until the panicked noise in his mind began to quiet and Anderson’s words sank in. You were the perfect choice…
Anderson had known the truth about Muñoz five years ago. He picked me. Grayson closed his eyes. Last night he’d said that his courtroom had been manipulated. Last night he hadn’t included himself as a victim of that manipulation.
As of this moment, that changed. As of this moment, everything changed.
He knew what he had to do. He pulled out his cell phone, dialed his mother.
She answered immediately. “Don’t even think about ditching me for dinner.”
“No, I’m not,” he said grimly. “I just need to change the venue.”
“Grayson, honey,” she said, alarmed by his tone of voice. “What’s wrong?”
“Pretty much everything.”
Eleven
Wednesday, April 6, 11:00 a.m.
Paige looked around the hotel room suspiciously. It adjoined the one she’d just been in with the suits—a mirror-image layout. Joseph and Stevie had whisked her inside as soon as she’d been dismissed by Charlie Anderson.
“Why am I here?” she asked.
Stevie shrugged. “You need to talk to Grayson. I’m just following orders. Why don’t you sit down before you fall down, Paige?”
Paige eyed the soft sofa. “If I sit down there, I’ll go to sleep.”
“Not a bad idea actually,” Joseph said. “You got circles under your circles.”
Paige dropped her backpack on the small dinette table and dropped her ass onto one of its chairs. “I’ll stay awake, thanks. Dark circles notwithstanding.”
Stevie sat next to her. “You did good in there, kid.”
“Thanks.” Parts had felt simply awful, other parts almost cathartic. “But they could have read the report and known everything they needed to know.”
“They’re trying to catch you in a lie,” Joseph said. “I take it that they did not.”
“No. Because it’s all the truth. I wish it were someone else’s truth, but it’s all mine.”
“I’m sorry it happened to you,” Stevie said kindly. “I’m sorry they were cops.”
“There are bad apples in every barrel,” Paige murmured, ready to think about something else. “I called the hospital, but they wouldn’t tell me anything about Logan.”
“He’s stable,” Stevie said. “Out of surgery. In shock. They saved his leg, though.”
Paige closed her eyes. “Thank goodness.” She still felt guilty as hell, even though she knew she hadn’t directly caused any of this. “Did you get his video and computer from Radcliffe?”
“No,” Stevie said. “He told me to get a warrant. Although I think I played it wrong. I asked him in front of the other reporters. I got the impression that if we’d been alone, he would have given it to me. He had to save face.”
“How long will the warrant take?” Paige asked.
; “My partner’s working with Grayson’s assistant to get it signed. If they get the right judge, by lunchtime. If not… we’d need to wait until Radcliffe gives it back to Logan.”
Paige gritted her teeth against the sudden roil of rage. “Did he show any remorse?”
“He looked like he cared. But it’s hard to say for sure.”
“He makes his money looking like he cares,” Paige said, then paused. “What the hell?” A suitcase sat next to the TV. “That’s my bag. And… what the fuck?” Beside it was a bag of dog food. She twisted in her seat. Met Joseph’s inscrutable stare. “This is my room? Are you trying to tell me that this is my room?”
“Yes. And yes,” Joseph said.
Stevie winced. “Ooh. Grayson didn’t ask you first?”
“No, he did not.” Paige lurched to her feet, pacing. “How long am I supposed to stay here? Who packed my things?” She stopped, pointed at Joseph. “Well?”
“I don’t know. Grayson. While you were sleeping,” he added before she could demand to know when he’d done so.
“Oh, this is great. Just rich. I guess he is at that. Booking a goddamn suite.”
“You don’t like it?” Joseph asked blandly.
“That’s not the point. The point is, he didn’t ask.” Another thought struck her and she recoiled. “Is this a safe house? Am I some kind of prisoner here?”
Joseph didn’t blink. “Kind of. And sort of.”
“Are you my babysitter?” she demanded, her breath hitching in her throat.
“No,” Joseph said.
Paige looked up at the ceiling, fighting tears of fury. “Then who is my babysitter?”
“That I don’t know. I’m only the temp.”
Paige looked at Stevie, who said, “Sorry, Paige. I didn’t know about any of this. Although I have to say it makes a lot of sense. I’m surprised last night’s shooter didn’t come after you instead of Logan.”
“He didn’t need me,” Paige ground out. “He needed the tape.”
“Still.” Stevie tapped her throat. “You’re a target. Somebody wants you dead, girl.”
This yanked some of the starch from Paige’s ire. Stevie was right. But… “I can’t be locked up like some prisoner. This could take a long time to resolve. I’ve got a job to do, rent to pay. Responsibilities. I can’t just sit around and—”