Deadlock

by DiAnn Mills

  Her family was old-school, and he knew plenty of Hispanic families who didn’t operate that way. No wonder she’d shown a bond with Carly. “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t need your pity. And I’m not getting all defensive since I offered the reason for my preoccupation. The situation’s on my mind. No big thing. Conversation ended about Lucas. Shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  It was a big thing. Two days with Bethany and already he’d put together more of what had driven her to the FBI. She’d seen a friend die, and her family had ostracized her. Word from those who’d worked with her said she never talked about personal matters. Lucas must be a real piece of work, and her family must toss the guilt card on a regular basis.

  As he’d concluded, the family hadn’t won any awards.

  And Bethany viewed her work as fulfilling deep emotional needs that she should be receiving from family.

  She took a breath. “Are you taking the lead on Felix Danford’s interview? In my mood, I might rip his head off.”

  He chuckled to break the tension. “Sure. I considered phoning him, but a face-to-face allows us to read his body language, even with Botox. I’d bet lunch he omitted a few things the other day.”

  “If you need a little help intimidating him, I’m your gal.”

  “Remind me never to make you mad.” How could one olive-skinned beauty scare him to his toes?

  Seated in Danford’s office with the door closed, Thatcher smiled into the face of the firm’s CEO. “Mr. Danford, we have additional questions for you. Special Agent Sanchez and I will not take much of your time, especially since agents are here imaging your files and conducting interviews with employees.”

  Danford folded his arms across his chest. “I thought you and I were finished. I have deadlines.”

  “They can wait,” Thatcher said. “We have an unsolved murder, and a few matters have come to our attention.”

  He glared. “I don’t have time to play games.”

  “And I forgot my chess set. I think you knew about Alicia’s spousal abuse,” he said. “So what was our initial interview about?”

  He tapped his fingers on the desk. “She was a good friend, a loyal employee—”

  “Cut the feel-good line. Were you in love with her?”

  Danford placed both hands on his desk. “How dare you.”

  “Simply answer the question.”

  He stared at Thatcher. Deliberating his response? “Alicia had a husband.” Danford fired his words like an automatic rifle.

  “But you wanted more, right? I bet her injuries made you furious. Angry enough to kill.”

  Danford continued to glare. “Look. I cared for Alicia, and I think she felt the same about me. The relationship never got far enough for either of us to act. She wouldn’t allow it.”

  “Are you in a relationship with anyone else?”

  “No. I waited for Alicia.” His face softened. “An incredible woman. Never understood her loyalty to God when her Bible says she could have left him. I urged her to kick the jerk out. Many times.”

  “Why didn’t she?”

  “Wanted to stick it out until her oldest daughter graduated from college. Not sure why the younger didn’t play into the picture.”

  “What else?”

  Danford refolded his arms. “I talked to her at length about the situation because . . . I loved her, and I was afraid he’d kill her. I didn’t understand why she let him hurt her.” He whirled his chair away from Thatcher and Bethany. “Give me a moment here.”

  “It’s all right, Mr. Danford. We want the truth. We’re not here to judge how you felt about Alicia.”

  He faced them again. “He called me with an invitation to her funeral. I went because she’d have wanted me there, and I had a few things to unload on him afterward.”

  “Like what?”

  “His abuse and how I’d do everything within my power to have him arrested.”

  “What was his response?”

  “Two words—‘no evidence.’”

  Spoken by a man who had a violent temper. “Can you give us anything else?”

  “Alicia said he could be charming. So over-the-top that he made her crazy. The good moments were outstanding, but the bad ones were a nightmare. At times the relationship seemed like love, and other times she feared for herself and her daughters. When she finally made a decision to leave him, she ended up with a bullet in her head.”

  He believed Danford. No reason to lie. “What else?”

  “He was having an affair. She discovered it by accident. Ammunition for divorce. I gave her my attorney’s name, and she started the paperwork.”

  More confirmation from Carly’s interview. “Did she confront him?”

  “Yes, about the affair and her intentions to file for divorce. He broke her arm and knocked around the youngest daughter.”

  “So you cared about her but did nothing while he physically abused her.”

  His eyes hardened. “She asked me to stay out of it, said she was afraid he’d come after me. As if I couldn’t handle myself against the coward. Friday afternoon before her death, she met with the attorney and a protective order was in the works. She believed that with a divorce, she and the girls would be free from him and we could make plans for the future.”

  “Did she mention her sizable inheritance?”

  “I don’t know a thing about her finances. Money wasn’t an issue with us.”

  “Where were you when she was killed?”

  “Meeting with clients in Dallas. I can back up my whereabouts.” He leaned over his desk. “Look, Agent Graves, if I’d schemed to kill a member of the Javon family, it would have been her no-good husband. I’d have blown him to bits a long time ago with no remorse. So if he shows up dead, then you and I can have a little talk. I might even confess.” He reached for a sticky note and scribbled something. “Here’s my attorney’s number. He can confirm my Dallas business trip.”

  “Fair enough. You’ve been a tremendous help. Have you given us everything this time?”

  “In the beginning I thought her husband killed her, but the media claims a serial killer committed the crime. Alicia told me Javon threatened to kill her and their daughters if she left him.”

  More ammunition to arrest Paul Javon, but at this point Danford’s word against his wouldn’t stand in court, especially when Javon wasn’t at home during his wife’s murder. Later Thatcher would check to see if a restraining order had been filed and check out Danford’s alibi. “I’m sorry about Alicia’s death. Sounds like you two planned a good life together.”

  “All destroyed. Alicia wouldn’t break her wedding vows. She needed someone to talk to, and I was safe. We talked at work only. No phone calls, texts, or e-mails. Nothing linking our friendship. In fact she’d leave her phone in her office during meetings in case he planted a bug.”

  “Had you met her husband before the funeral?”

  “Social functions only. Possessive in every sense of the word. Wouldn’t let her out of his sight. She told me he checked the mileage every evening when she returned from work to make sure she wasn’t cheating on him.” He slapped the top of his desk. “I’m telling you, the jerk was behind her murder.”

  CHAPTER 17

  10:57 A.M. WEDNESDAY

  Thatcher’s mind spun with Danford’s confession as he drove the short distance from the Galleria to the FBI office. He doubted Alicia had told anyone about the attraction, but had anyone else at the office picked up on it?

  Traffic brought them to a halt, frustrating when he had a job to do. “Can’t believe this. Bumper-to-bumper and no reason why.”

  Bethany reached for her phone. “I’ll check to see if there’s been an accident. Could—”

  Something sailed by Thatcher’s face, splintering the driver’s side window and sounding like someone had thrown gravel. A bullet! A sound he’d recognize anywhere.

  He whipped his car onto the shoulder and out of the way of oncoming vehicles. Ducking, he drew
his firearm while snapping his attention to Bethany, who sat stunned.

  “Get down!”

  When she didn’t move, he pushed her face into her lap. He bent below the steering wheel.

  “What’s wrong with you?” He caught himself before destroying any confidence she might have. “Focus. The shot came from my side.” He released her.

  “I froze,” she said through a ragged breath. “I wasn’t prepared for this. Thinking about the case and—”

  “An agent is always prepared.” He exhaled to control his anger while waiting for another bullet to whiz by. He studied her. No blood. A hole on the passenger’s side window indicated the bullet’s exit. Shattered glass that looked like rock salt covered her lap and arm. She trembled. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” Her firm response didn’t match her white knuckles, telling him she was berating herself.

  A car horn blared behind him, and he resumed his driving position to pull as far right as possible. How could they return fire in creeping traffic?

  Bethany rose, peering in every direction with her weapon in hand. “I’m sorry. Haven’t been involved in a firefight for a long time.”

  “Get your training pants on.” He bit back another remark while zeroing in on other vehicles. This wouldn’t work between them when he couldn’t trust her. He opened the door and stepped out to ensure no one else had been targeted. “Your performance is that of a rookie.”

  “It won’t happen again,” she said.

  “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

  She looked all around them, the shattered glass still on her lap. “Don’t close the book on me, okay?” Her cell chirped with a text as she stepped out of the car and continued to scan the traffic to their left. “Do you see anyone?”

  “Not a thing suspicious. The left lane has sped ahead. We’ll take a look at the traffic cams once we’re back at the office.”

  Her cell sounded the text reminder.

  “Is that important?”

  She grabbed her phone. “Lucas is at it again.”

  “What did he say?”

  “That he’s not finished with me. ‘Don’t sleep.’”

  A chill snaked its way up his spine. “Are you sure the sender is your brother?”

  “Oh yeah. He’s done this kind of thing for years. I’ve got it handled.”

  Thatcher doubted Lucas could be controlled by anything but a locked cell. “Radio in the shooting and arrange for the FBI to pick up my Mustang and deliver a loaner car.”

  A delay they didn’t need.

  12:03 P.M. WEDNESDAY

  Bethany sensed Thatcher standing in the door of her cubicle, and willing him away wouldn’t cause him to leave.

  “Do you need something?” she said, shoving an experienced agent tone into her words.

  “Checking on you.” He handed her a Diet Dr Pepper. “Did you eat?”

  She frowned.

  “Just asking.”

  “Not yet.”

  “I was hard on you.”

  Actually, he wasn’t hard enough. “I could have gotten us or innocent people killed.”

  “You can’t undo life. We move on and learn from our mistakes. I’ve jumped into things that should have gotten me killed. Adrenaline is my high, and I thrive on it.”

  When he smiled, her pulse sped and she caught her own emotions. “Appreciate your grace. Can’t believe the traffic cams didn’t provide any more of a lead than a string of vehicles hurtling down the interstate.”

  “We were followed and targeted. Scorpion is nervous.”

  After her blunder, she refused to argue with him. “What about your car?”

  “Initially, all they have is a couple of bullet holes. Lab’s checking it out. What’s Lucas drive?”

  “Chromed-out Harley. I looked after the shooting but didn’t see him.” She shook her head. “He’s a bully. No way would he risk his freedom for revenge, especially by firing at federal agents. I have to think this through.”

  “Okay.”

  “The woman who schedules appointments at Papá’s shop is a friend. I’ll text her.” And she did.

  “We have updates, thanks to the other agents on the cases,” he said. “Traffic cameras in and around the two murders cleared. The landscaping company Ruth Caswell used has not done business for the Javons or Danford Accounting. Neither did the victims use the same housekeeping services. Backgrounds are in the works for employees who cleaned both homes. Nick Caswell affirmed no repairs of any type had been completed to his mother’s home in over a year, and Mae Kenters always brought her own food. Blood types, insurance companies, and health provider reports are incomplete.”

  Bethany’s head spun, and her stomach sounded like a cannon. “Can we grab lunch?”

  “For one small person, you have the loudest growl.”

  “My stomach, right?” Irritation crept in with her hunger issues. “Let me fill you in, Thatcher. I’m also a victim of a disease called hangry.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I get angry when I don’t eat.”

  “Sure you don’t want to drive over to see Paul Javon?”

  She raised a finger. “Good call. I’d like to have his girlfriend’s name.”

  They choose a deli near the office. As she eased into his car, her stomach protested again. How embarrassing.

  “I pulled out my stash of snacks from the Mustang.” He flipped up the console between them. “Here’s dried fruit and nuts, peanut butter crackers, and PowerBars.”

  No one had ever looked out for her like this, and gratitude rolled through her. “I thought you were transferring personal things into a plastic bag when we got the loaner. You got these for me?”

  “Yes. Don’t want my partner going into diabetic shock.”

  Thatcher believed she couldn’t do her job because of health issues. “I’m fine.”

  “How about ‘thank you’?”

  “I’m sorry. Yes, thank you for your thoughtfulness.”

  At the deli, they ordered at the counter and found a corner booth near a side exit. Her controllable-without-meds diabetes would never come between her and her job.

  “You have the shakes,” he said.

  “Not for long.” A text from her friend confirmed Lucas had been at the shop with Papá since nine thirty. “Glad I made sure he wasn’t up to no good.”

  “Me too. Neither of us are on his friend list.”

  “We have something in common.” She stared into his dark-brown eyes, nearly hypnotized by their depths. Stop it, girl! “Did you believe Danford?” she said.

  “Innocent of anything except being in love with Alicia. Not a hint of anything to discredit him.”

  She unwrapped her utensils from a thick paper napkin. “How did you know he was in love with Alicia?”

  “His eyes softened when he spoke her name.”

  She hadn’t seen it. “And what if he’d denied his attraction?”

  “Are you going to buck my every move?”

  “Is that what I’m doing?”

  “You tell me.”

  His face tightened, and she regretted her lack of restraint. Disrespecting her father last night, messing up the earlier shooting, and now insulting her partner. Please, God, help me. Is the constant juggle of this investigation and my family’s issues setting me up for a fall? She liked Thatcher. He treated her respectfully even when she deserved a shutdown, and he was entitled to the same from her. “Thatcher, I apologize. I’m being an oversensitive, irritating woman. No excuse.”

  “I’d rather have a spunky partner. Tell me, what would you have done before asking Danford about his relationship with Alicia?”

  She took a deep breath. “I’d have checked security cameras in the building, pulled phone records, and had a few facts before I posed it. Carly mentioned Javon’s girlfriend, but with Danford you had nothing but your gut.”

  He smiled with no condemnation. “Maybe you’re just hangry.”

  She shrugged. “How long d
id it take you to learn the job?”

  “Still learning.”

  A server set their food before them—for Bethany, a wild salmon salad, and for Thatcher, a roasted turkey breast club. She said a quick, silent prayer, then dug into her meal. After a few bites, she scrolled through messages. “Danford’s alibi in Dallas checked out.” She glanced into Thatcher’s face. “And Alicia did file a restraining order, but it wasn’t served.”

  “I’m suggesting surveillance on Javon.” He took a bite of his sandwich. “His girlfriend might be persuaded to talk, once we locate her.”

  Their cells buzzed with a message, and she checked hers first. “The comparison of those who attended Alicia’s memorial and Ruth’s funeral are in, and we have no similarities.”

  “I still want to run the photos against facial recognition. Long shot, but who knows?”

  She studied him, a man who believed their partnership had the potential to be unstoppable. Would they ever see eye-to-eye on a case, or would their methods delay solving two murders?

  “Your eyes glaze over when you concentrate,” he said.

  “Always thinking. I hope Carly Javon moved in with her aunt and uncle.”

  “Call her.”

  She pressed in the young woman’s cell number and waited. The call went to voice mail. “Hey, Carly, this is Special Agent Bethany Sanchez. Checking in to make sure you’re okay.” After requesting the young woman return her call, she pulled up her contact information and phoned the landline Carly had given for her aunt and uncle, Anita and Ken Cooke. A woman answered.

  Bethany confirmed the woman was Anita Cooke and introduced herself. “I’m looking for Carly Javon. She gave me your number if I couldn’t reach her directly.”

  “Is this the agent she’s been speaking with?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Is she available?”

  “Yes, of course. I needed to make sure her dad wasn’t up to one of his tricks again. The man needs to be locked up permanently. Let me get her for you.”

  A few moments later Carly responded.

  “So glad you made the move.”