Deadlock

by DiAnn Mills

  Thatcher was right, and she’d wasted his time. Shaking her head, she stepped away from the computer. She’d been so sure Javon had killed Alicia. “This proves he was here,” she said. “But I’m not convinced that he didn’t hire someone to kill her, like his girlfriend.”

  CHAPTER 14

  1:15 P.M. TUESDAY

  Bethany reviewed the status on the search warrant for Danford Accounting. The judge hadn’t ruled on it, the process of a slow system. She and Thatcher had gotten takeout for lunch in order to discuss interviews. They’d subpoenaed Mae Kenters’s cell phone records and pored over security camera footage from Ruth Caswell’s and traffic cams near the Javons’ home.

  “I think we should attend Alicia’s memorial service,” Thatcher said.

  Disbelief rattled her nerves. “Are you kidding? I don’t think the killer will get a case of the guilts and confess.”

  “Depends on the motive. I’d like to see who’s at the service.”

  “By making a grand entrance?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Realization hit her and she slid him a sideways glance. “Are you suggesting we do the incognito thing and observe who enters the church?”

  “I am.”

  “Your gut instinct says we’ll see someone unusual?”

  “You got it.”

  “I so disagree. We could work more efficiently by laying out both deaths, working with Quantico on analytics. Examining the current evidence. The security cam footage review is tedious work.”

  “Didn’t you say we could work organically?”

  The man would drive her crazy. “In the sense of working together, not chasing a rabbit trail. Except . . . the killer could be at the church to toss off suspicion. Like whoever Javon hired to kill his wife.”

  “This will give us a list of who attends Alicia’s compared to Ruth Caswell’s funeral. Might lead us in the right direction.”

  So they were back to his serial killer theory. “I have no faith in your speculation, but you’re on.”

  Forty minutes later, they parked his Mustang far enough from the church so as not to attract attention. Thatcher used his binoculars and snapped photos with his phone while she jotted down his comments—mostly nonessential to the case.

  “This feels like a rejected script from an NCIS episode.” He snapped another pic.

  “Which one?”

  “Oh, you watch it.”

  “For laughs. Why are so few people here? I expected the church to be packed since the Javons are Houstonians.”

  “Paul has limited it to invited guests only. I see a man checking IDs at the door. Wanna bet our names aren’t on the list?” Thatcher said.

  “I only bet on sure things,” she said a little more sharply than she intended. “But it does look unlikely.”

  “I’ll let you ask him this afternoon. Might make our interview a little lively.”

  Pastor Lee stepped outside the front of the church and shook hands with Felix Danford. Thatcher indicated she record the exchange.

  “I’m curious why Danford’s on the elite list,” Thatcher said.

  “Because Javon’s afraid of what he might say.”

  “Another question for the afternoon.”

  The photos would have to be run through the FIG before anything substantial resulted from comparing both services. And Javon probably wouldn’t tell them a thing because he had too much to lose.

  “A day and a half into the job and neither of us are bleeding.” He swung a smile her way.

  No wonder he had a reputation with the ladies. Definitely off-limits between FBI guidelines and her stipulation of not getting involved with a gamer.

  The only things they had in common were sending Lucas to jail and a commitment to bring in killers.

  5:45 P.M. TUESDAY

  Bethany stood outside an interview room with Thatcher and observed Paul Javon. With Carly’s revelation about him having an affair, Bethany wanted a confession to all his underhanded activities. Drama led the way with his dabbing beneath his eyes, burying his face in his hands, and glancing around the small room.

  “He’s ensuring we catch his grief on camera,” Thatcher said. “But I don’t buy it.”

  “I’m relying on his temper to take precedence in the interview. Alicia’s memorial service lasted all of thirty minutes. Incredibly sad for a woman who’d been well loved.”

  “Maybe his display is for a postponed dinner with Shannon. Why don’t you lead out? He obviously prefers bullying women, and I’d like to see him lose control.”

  The two entered the interview room. Javon stared up with red-rimmed eyes, wearing sorrow like a medal of honor. He indicated he and Shannon had a dinner date later. Didn’t want to leave his daughter alone. No mention of Carly.

  “How can I help you?” Javon said, his words syrupy. “I admit the past few days have been a nightmare. Media want interviews, and I’m not up to it, especially when I have nothing new to say about HPD’s and the FBI’s ineptitude at finding my wife’s killer. Is this necessary within a couple hours of Alicia’s memorial?”

  Bethany pushed sympathy into her tone. “We want this solved quickly. I imagine Carly and Shannon are comforting each other, and we’ll do our best to expedite our questioning.” She placed his file before her. “A few things have come to our attention.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He folded his hands on the table.

  “Per your words to Pastor Lee, anger issues have stalked you, but you found counseling, dealt with it, and took positive steps to save your marriage.”

  “Correct.”

  “I’m sure, in the midst of this tragedy, those issues have resurfaced. How are you handling the anger?”

  He inhaled deeply. Her benefit or his? “By talking to Pastor Lee and being honest about my feelings to my daughters.”

  “Could you explain how Carly received her leg injury?”

  A muscle twitched beneath his eye. “She slipped on a wet spot in the kitchen. Why?”

  Bethany stared into his face, stilling every emotion. “She told us she’d fallen down the stairs.”

  Javon saddened his expression. “With all the turmoil, I’d forgotten.”

  “We want to ensure she’s not being abused.”

  His eyes flashed. “I’d never hurt my daughters.”

  “Where did beating your wife fall within your specs for abuse?”

  He stiffened. “I may need to seek an attorney if this inappropriate questioning continues.”

  She’d succeeded in making him angrier. “We wouldn’t want to interfere with your citizen’s rights.” She paused and hoped he was worried about what she’d ask next. “Why were those attending the service today limited to invited guests?”

  “You people find out everything.”

  She plastered another smile. “We do.”

  “The girls and I decided the best way to move on with our lives was to have a short, intimate memorial. When we’re able to cremate her, we’ll do something else.”

  “Did Pastor Lee suggest this?”

  “My idea.”

  “Your idea . . . and your daughters agreed.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Do you own a gun?”

  He smiled. “Yes, a .22.”

  “The FBI team failed to find it during their search.”

  “It’s in a repair shop. I’ll give you the phone number.”

  “Thank you. Mr. Javon, how long have you been having an affair?”

  He narrowed his brows. “What a ridiculous accusation.”

  “Is it? We’d like her name, please.” She positioned her pen over a legal pad.

  “Who concocted such a tale?”

  “A reliable source. Special Agent Graves and I would like the woman’s name.”

  He slammed his hand down on the table. “There is no other woman.”

  “Is this a formal denial?”

  “Most assuredly. I demand to know the source of your lies.”

  She picked up his f
ile and leafed through it. “Alicia wouldn’t be the first wife murdered for another woman. In fact, with Shannon and Carly inheriting the eight million dollars, I’m concerned about their safety.”

  “I’m their father. It’s my duty to protect them. You have a poisoned mind.” He rose from the chair.

  “Sit down.” Bethany dumped force into her words. “Special Agent Graves, do you have questions for Mr. Javon?”

  Thatcher reached out to shake his hand. “I apologize for not sympathizing with your loss earlier. Sometimes Special Agent Sanchez jumps ahead in stressful situations.”

  He sneered. “I noticed. Do you have a complaint department?”

  Thatched nodded. “I’ll send you the information via e-mail. Do you have any idea who would implicate you in this tragedy?”

  “I don’t. But trust me, when I find out, they will regret their actions.”

  “Sounds like you’ve been set up. All leads are helpful in solving your wife’s murder.”

  “I’ll handle the confrontation.” He tossed a chilling glare at Bethany. “My way.”

  “By withholding information, we can arrest you for obstruction of justice in a murder investigation.”

  He glanced away, then back to her, his eyes hard as stone. “I have no idea who’d suspect me of having a relationship with anyone other than my wife. I meant I’d ask around. Of course I’d give you any names.”

  Bethany waved her hand. “Taking matters into your own hands could get you arrested.”

  He laughed and arched his back. “Did the bureau need to fill a quota when they hired you? Or did you sleep your way into your role?”

  At last, Javon’s colors had shown through.

  “For your information,” Thatcher said, “the FBI recruits the highly intelligent and skilled into our ranks. Special Agent Sanchez is not the one under scrutiny.”

  She shoved aside Javon’s filthy accusation. “Mr. Javon, your affair is why you were brought back in for questioning.”

  CHAPTER 15

  6:55 P.M. TUESDAY

  Bethany parked her truck in the covered parking area and locked it before heading to her apartment. A bit of a chill met her in the shadows, matching her mood. Her head whirled with the past two days. How would the investigation continue without evidence to arrest Paul Javon? Curiosity about the attendance for the Javon and Caswell services played havoc with her mind. Thatcher had been right—a connection would go a long way in solving the murders. At least then they’d have concrete information to explore.

  She opened her apartment door.

  Fury burned to her toes.

  Her sofa, barely six months old, was slashed. A broken lamp. An overturned chair and small table.

  “Jasper! Where are you?”

  Her pet flew from her bedroom, down the hall, and to her shoulder. He trembled and nuzzled against her head.

  “It’s okay, fella. I’m here.” She pulled the Glock from her purse with one hand and pressed in 911 with the other. Protocol stated she should back out and wait for HPD, but she ignored the rules, a rarity, and cleared every room. Nothing missing, only a mess to clean up. She reported the burglary to the FBI and texted Thatcher. Not sure why the latter, except to keep him informed.

  Want me 2 come by?

  Kind remark. Rather surprising. No thanx. I’m ok.

  Past experience with Lucas indicated the intruder might be her brother. Especially with the flat tire and note from this morning. But she had no proof.

  Two hours later, after completing the police officer’s questioning and searching through dumped drawers and closet items, she discovered her grandmother’s brooch was missing. The piece of jewelry had little monetary value, and only one person would have reason to take it. Only one person would break in and leave valuables behind and take something sentimental. Lucas.

  She took Jasper with her and drove to her parents’ home. The parrot still perched on her shoulder and would not be persuaded to take refuge in his cage. No longer did her pulse race wildly or her face grow hot. She didn’t care about the reception she’d receive or the shouting match. She had her father’s temper, and it was about to be unleashed.

  As she parked at the curb in front of the Sanchez home, a twinge of “don’t do this” nudged at her conscience. She shoved the warning aside. Prayers knocked at her heart, but she refused them.

  She could more easily forgive a stranger than a family member who had nothing better to do than destroy property and steal while frightening a helpless bird.

  The moment she approached the porch with Jasper, Lucas opened the door and closed it behind him without snapping on the outside light. He must have been expecting her. How long had it been since she’d seen him? The flick of a lighter illuminated his hardened features as he fired up a cigarette.

  “What brings you here, Sis?” He drew in the nicotine. “Didn’t the parents tell you to stay away?”

  “I want to talk to you.” She kept her voice even.

  “Has Jasper become a guard bird?”

  “Maybe. Let’s take a walk.” She started to add a bit of sarcasm about his healing from jail, but thought otherwise.

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  “I’m not giving you a choice. We can have the conversation right here, and those inside can hear, or privately. You choose.”

  “For a minute, I thought you might pull your gun on me.”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  He shook his head. “Whatever you have to say can be said in earshot of Papá and Mamá. They know all you’ve done. Even working with Thatcher Graves.”

  “Did you follow me this morning and slash the tire on my truck?”

  He chuckled. “Nope, but I wish I’d thought of it.”

  “Did you break into my apartment?”

  He swore. “¿Estás loca?”

  “No. Did you break into my apartment?”

  “I’ve been right here catching up on sleep or at the shop all day.”

  “Was Mamá with you?”

  “None of your business. I’m not a criminal.”

  “Prove it.”

  The door opened and Papá stepped in front of Lucas. “Leave. You’re not welcome here ever.”

  Regret washed over her. What had she been thinking to interrupt her parents’ evening? “All right.”

  “Is that all you have to say this time of night?” Papá’s voice rose.

  “I apologize for the late hour, but I needed to talk to Lucas.”

  “Now you have.”

  “May I ask where he was today?”

  “None of your business unless you have a warrant. Lárgate.”

  She’d leave his house because she’d been disrespectful, letting her rage rule her good sense. “Perdóname.”

  “¿Perdonarte? Imposible,” Papá said. “You’ve done too much to destroy the family.”

  She left, her face once more in flames. This wouldn’t end well, not with Lucas’s history of violence and her family’s history of coddling him.

  CHAPTER 16

  9:00 A.M. WEDNESDAY

  Thatcher drove with Bethany to Danford Accounting to thoroughly investigate the company and Alicia’s coworkers. Fortunately, the judge had been in a good mood and signed their subpoenas and search warrants for Felix Danford and Paul Javon without a hitch. Murder had a way of pushing things.

  Another pair of agents had been assigned to search Paul Javon’s home. Not much Thatcher and Bethany could do, considering they’d interviewed him twice and were at a stalemate until he confessed to an affair.

  Bethany sat on the passenger side, quiet, with her attention seemingly on the road. He’d made a commitment to get to know her better, find out more about what made her tick. She needed to talk about last night’s break-in. Just because an agent underwent training didn’t mean the violation of private property was any less taxing on the psyche.

  Until they understood each other, the trust factor wasn’t there.

  “Are you okay?” he sai
d. “Any word on your burglary?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Want to talk?”

  “No.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Didn’t get much sleep last night with all the activity. That’s all.”

  “I’m a good listener, and whatever you say stays with me. Do you have an idea who broke into your place?”

  “Of course not,” she snapped.

  “I have a feeling you do.”

  “Shelve it.”

  “Old boyfriend?”

  “Enough, Thatcher. It’s none of your business.”

  Her phone notified her of a text, and she took a look. Tense.

  “Something for us?”

  “No.” She sighed. “Family stuff. Lucas is yanking my chain.”

  “Bethany, I don’t ask to pry. I ask because I care about my partner.”

  She tossed him a pale glance and he grasped a snippet of her internal MO. Wasn’t there anyone in her life to nurture her? Care?

  She leaned her head against the door. “Okay, I’ll do my best. Lucas isn’t pleased with me. After your testimony sent my brother to jail, I did the same thing. Only my role got him eleven more months.”

  Whoa. Bethany had sent her brother to jail?

  “Don’t look so shocked, Thatcher. I walked into my sister’s house, and Lucas was holding a gun to my brother-in-law’s head. I made an arrest. He resisted and I took him down.” She straightened. “My brother-in-law backed me up. Our testimony convicted him.”

  “I’d seen he’d been incarcerated for armed robbery. Never had a clue you were involved. Of course I didn’t look either. On the night I arrested him, I was at a club on the northeast side of town looking for a murder suspect when he pulled a knife on a man. Killed him and claimed self-defense. Only got nine months.”

  “Sounds like Lucas.”

  “Is your family concerned he might retaliate against you or your brother-in-law?”

  “Not hardly. I’m the black sheep. Papá’s banned me from the house. The ironic part is my sister was furious with me. Said the problem was a family matter. She hasn’t spoken to me since, and she requested the church annul her marriage. Her ex-husband moved to Denver. Good thing. Lucas would have come after him.”