He gave her fifteen minutes to drink the tea and zone out. Collect herself. She’d been through more than one traumatizing event in the past few days, he wasn’t about to push her farther than she’d already been shoved. The people she cared about who’d been hurt were all safe in the hospital, healing. The motel could be rebuilt. The diner would re-open when there was enough staff to do so.
What would happen to Emma was up to her.
“What now?”
The words were so soft he almost didn’t hear them. Mint locked the screen on the iPad and put it on a shelf behind him. “We’re waiting for the team to regroup. Until then you can just rest. Get something to eat, take a nap—”
She started to shake her head before he’d even finished. “I don’t need you to coddle me. I’m fine. Tell me what’s really happening.”
Mint stared at her, mentally logging the fact he was going to have to work harder if he wanted to compartmentalize what she knew. Especially when each piece of information he gave her would add to her stress level. Then he said, “There’s an FBI agent on the way.”
She shot him a look. “A real one?”
He nodded. “Agent Walker. He’s been our point person with the bureau since Rachel Harris was kidnapped. He saw your statement video, and he got on a plane straight away. He wants to speak with you about what happened to the senator, but he’s also interested in the blackmailer.”
Her face blanked. “Ah.” She shifted her backpack closer and hugged it against her side. Protecting herself, using it as a shield. Or protecting what was inside.
“You had to know this would come out.”
“I was doing what I thought I had to, but I was also going to find out the truth for myself. To do the right thing. That’s why I went back to the senator’s house that night. Only Aaron was there, so I never got the chance to ask him about it.”
Mint leaned forward a little. Not that his colleague was listening, but he just needed to be closer to her for a second. “Whatever it is, no one is going to judge you. And we’re also not going to be surprised. This is just another obstacle to overcome, like all the others.”
Emma’s eyes flashed. “You can say that because it doesn’t affect you.”
“Whatever the fallout, we’ll deal.” When she shot him another look, he went on. “Remember Rachel and Alexis? Their loyalty was stronger than the plan the blackmailer had. It was messy, but in the end they won out because they stuck together. That’s in you, Emma. I know it is. Whoever you’re protecting, I’m with you. We’re going to figure this out, and I promise you now it’s going to be okay.”
He didn’t know that. The truth was, he had no idea what the blackmailer had on her. Their computer tech hadn’t been able to find anything in her past that even resembled a skeleton in a closet. The woman was as clean as a person came—and so far from him and his history that it was a little daunting even trying to be on the same team as her. If she found out everything he’d been through, and all he’d done, she would probably run screaming. And yet, she’d proven she had the courage to stick it out even when things got hard.
That protecting the people you loved was more important than career, or even freedom.
Mint’s phone buzzed in his back pocket. He pulled it out and saw it was Perkins. He swiped the screen. “Malone.”
Emma’s lips curled into a small smile at hearing his last name.
He shot her a grin while Perkins said, “We got Aaron Jones’s car and the place he’s been staying. You want in?”
He said, “Yes,” before he even thought through the implications of having to leave Emma at the RV while he joined Perkins in searching through Jones’s belongings. Would they even find a link back to the blackmailer among his things? They could hope, but the chance was slim.
Perkins said, “Walker will be there in thirty minutes. I’ll hang with Emma while he talks to her, make sure that’s all good. You take point on the search.”
“Sounds good.” It sounded great. Perkins wanted to be here with Walker and Emma—for Walker, or for Emma? She could want to protect their witness. Or she could just want to be the person who stood between the FBI agent and their team business. Mint didn’t know which it was, and he figured Perkins would categorically deny anything if he even asked her about it.
“See you soon.” She hung up.
Emma’s eyebrows lifted. She didn’t ask him what the call was about. Probably didn’t know if it was okay for her to do that, since she had no involvement in team business past what they’d already told her. A lot of women wouldn’t have done that. He’d heard all kinds of stories from the other guys about wives and girlfriends who pestered them with questions until they caved, just to get the torture to stop. A woman who voluntarily allowed a man to keep his own confidence without assuming it was her business as well was a refreshing thing.
If this went farther than acquaintances, would that continue to be the case? Or was Emma the kind of person who suddenly sprouted a different personality when emotions came into play?
It was a risk. Was he willing to take it?
Mint hadn’t met anyone in a long time he’d have even thought worth considering. Emma had proven she was strong. But could she handle all he would put on her, or would she buckle under the weight of it?
He said, “Perkins is headed here. She’ll stay with you while you talk to Agent Walker. I have to head out for a while. Take a look at Aaron Jones’s things. I’ll be back though.”
She nodded, biting her lips together. Not happy at the thought he wouldn’t be here? He couldn’t help the way that settled in him. The idea she wanted him close, at least while she dealt with hard things.
He put his hand over hers. “You’ll do great.”
And he would get an update from Perkins after. Because whatever it was, the information could potentially change everything they knew about Emma Burroughs.
He just hoped it would help them find the blackmailer.
**
There was definitely something going on between Walker and Perkins. Emma gave him a small smile as she watched Walker settle into the bench seat where Mint had sat. Before he left her. She wasn’t going to be mad about that. Right now there was enough swirling in her head that she didn’t have room for whether or not she was disappointed. Or how else she might feel about the fact Mint didn’t want to stay and hear her story.
Maybe it was better that way. She might be able to get through this a little more easily if she didn’t have to look at his face while she did it. And she definitely didn’t want to see any kind of disappointment on his face. She hadn’t even done anything.
And she wanted him to think she’d done the right thing. That she’d made the right choices like Rachel and Alexis.
Those two seemed to have impressed him. Which only made her wonder what he’d think when he found out just how connected Emma was to them—both, now that Bradley and Alexis were married.
Walker placed a digital voice recorder on the table between them and switched it on. He did some preliminary talking—who he was, who she was, and why they were there. Emma waited until he said, “Shall we start.”
She nodded.
“Aloud, please. For the recorder.”
“Yes.”
He smiled. “Thank you.”
The man was probably in his forties. His hair had thinned on the temples, and what was there had a silver tint. His suit was nice, but not so nice it would look weird for an FBI agent to be that well-dressed.
Along the RV, in the kitchen area, Perkins sipped her coffee. The woman was basically glaring at him over the rim of her mug while she did so. Emma had sensed a little…frostiness between them. She couldn’t help wondering what, if anything, had gone on before now between the two of them.
But she couldn’t dwell on that thought. Walker made her go over everything that had happened the night the senator died. Then he asked her about every day since then. When she explained a couple of the things Mint had done, his eyebrows
lifted. Other than that, he didn’t have any real reaction. The man was a professional. He wanted the job done, and he wasn’t going to allow his emotional energy to be expended on something that had nothing to do with him. Except for the fact that it happened to be his job to connect the dots.
“Would you like to take a break or just carry on?”
Emma said, “I’m good with getting it all over with.”
“Very well.”
Perkins’s eyes shone with something that looked a whole lot like pride.
“It was about three months ago. I got home from a movie that I’d gone to with a college friend of mine. There was a note that had been slipped under my door.” She took a breath. “Inside the envelope was a photograph. It was old.”
“What do you mean, old?”
“I figured it was taken around the seventies. Though I can’t pinpoint an exact date. The paper itself was worn. But I’d never seen it before. It was…” She swallowed. “Indelicate.” That was an understatement. And judging from the look that passed between Walker and Perkins, they caught what she implied.
Perkins started, “Do you—”
Walker held up a finger, stopping her. “We’ll get to that. Ms. Burroughs, what happened after the picture showed up?”
“The next day I got an email. It told me that a reimbursement request was going to come in for one of the senator’s staffers, and I was to approve it no matter what. No questions asked. Or the details of the photograph would be made public.”
“Emma,” Perkins said softly. “What was on the photo?”
She glanced up at the other woman. “Do you know who my mother is?”
“Conservative radio talk show host.”
She nodded. “Family values. A republican bent.”
“Honesty. Integrity.”
Emma said, “I think it was around when she was in college, but she’s never told me anything about having a ‘wild’ phase.” No one wanted to learn that about their parent in a way that was that visual. And something she could never, ever unsee.
Perkins said, “And if it got out, she would lose all credibility. Regardless of the fact it happened decades ago.”
“People don’t care that everyone makes mistakes. They don’t care that we’re all human. They just want someone to make them feel better, and that person ends up getting crucified all over social media and the internet. Especially a public face like my mom. Maybe she only smoked pot one time and made one bad choice about who to spend an evening with.”
It had certainly shed a new light on the fact there might be an underlying reason as to how particular her mom was about public appearance. Everything she said and did, what she wore, and how she got her hair done, was all about presenting the right front. Emma had often wondered why she couldn’t just be herself. Wasn’t that enough?
Maybe her mom didn’t like who she was underneath all the superficial things. Or she was ashamed of what she’d done, and who she’d done it with.
Walker said, “So you approved the reimbursement request.”
“I didn’t want to,” Emma said. “But I figured, ‘what harm could it do?’ Two weeks later there was another photo. Aaron Jones showed up the next day to tell me what he wanted me to do. That’s when I knew it wasn’t just a one-time thing.” She didn’t want to tell them this next part, but she figured she was going to have to if they wanted a full picture of what had happened.
She took a deep breath. “My mother had an affair with Senator Sadler. That photo had a date on it, and the date was significant enough that I stole the senator’s toothbrush and had a DNA test done.” She tugged the backpack closer and pulled out the bloody envelope. She’d never even gotten to tell him what she knew. Or to see his reaction. Would he have even been pleased?
He hadn’t been a nice man. His son had been self-centered and gotten caught up between his cousin Bradley and Bradley’s wife Alexis—and not in a good way.
She slid the paper out and showed it to Walker. “Senator Sadler was my father.”
Perkins said, “Bradley and Rachel’s uncle is your father?”
She nodded.
Walker said, “Do you think Sadler knew that when he hired you?”
Emma blinked. She hadn’t even thought of that. “I—” She didn’t even know how to answer, because she didn’t know. Had Sadler known, all along, that she was the product of an affair he’d had years ago with Isabella Burroughs?
Perkins blew out a breath. “Emma, did you keep the pictures?”
“Yes. I put them all in a safety deposit box with a printout of the first email and everything else I knew.”
Perkins set her mug down. “Emma, can Double Down have access to your safety deposit box?”
“Of course. Do you think it will help?”
“It’s a long shot. If he’s as good as he seems to be, he’s covered all his tracks. But it’s worth a try.”
Chapter 14
Mint shut the glove box and stood up out of the car. “Nothing.”
Craig slammed the door with far more force than was necessary. His teammate was a former Army MP officer. A military cop. He might be good at search and seizure, but anyone would be frustrated right now. He pulled a brown paper bag from the roof that he’d placed there. “I’ll get this stuff sent in.”
Mint nodded. They’d found a few personal items in the car, but what would that get them other than finding out if Aaron Jones was his real name? It could help. Then again, it might give them nothing but a tragic backstory they didn’t want to know. He hoped it would provide a link back to the blackmailer.
If it did, then they could get Emma out of his target range.
His phone beeped. He read Perkins’s summary of what Emma had told Agent Walker about the blackmailer. The senator was her biological father. He felt his eyebrows rise. All of this was about protecting her mother? That surprised him, at the same time it didn’t really. She had no secrets in her past that could be exploited. And her loyalty to her mother was solid, even though he knew they didn’t see eye to eye.
The blackmailer had used the only leverage he had on her, and then asked her to approve reimbursement requests? Something in the senator’s business had been dirty. They needed to figure it out.
Double Down had suspected the senator of being the blackmailer at one point. Now it looked like the senator—who was Bradley and Rachel’s uncle, though that relationship had been strained as well—had been linked to the blackmailer somehow. It tracked. But they were far from the point where they knew everything.
This was hardly over, even though Aaron Jones was dead. But hopefully they would get enough information that it might garner them an actual lead.
Mint turned and walked into the vacation rental Aaron had paid for with cash, under the name Jay Smith. Built around World War Two, it was totally off the beaten path. The cabinets were likely original. Carpets had been replaced, and tile laid down in the kitchen. Fresh paint.
Dishes piled up in the sink marred the attempt to freshen the place. It smelled vaguely of burned coffee, though how it was even possible to burn a pot of coffee, he didn’t know. The bedroom wasn’t in a much better state. The linens were half on the floor, half still on the bed, and only one pillow remained. A pile of clothes had been stacked up on the floor in the corner of the room. A tiny attached bathroom had towels on the floor, discarded there.
Aaron Jones badly needed a housekeeper. If he wasn’t dead.
“Geez this guy is a slob.”
“Was a slob,” Mint told him.
“True. Suicide by cop.” Craig shook his head.
“Gets him out from under suspicion and helps keep the blackmailer’s identity a secret.”
“Unless he wasn’t all that forward-thinking, and he just didn’t want to go to jail.”
Mint shrugged. They would likely never gain insight into Aaron Jones’s state of mind before he forced the sheriff to end his life.
He wandered the room, looking for more than just cl
othes or toiletries. He searched the drawers then pulled them out. Behind the third one, a phone had been taped to the back. Mint pulled the tape away and set the drawer down.
“Flip phone?” Craig said, crossing the distance between them. “People still use those?”
“I guess so. No Wi-Fi, probably, and maybe no GPS. Easier to stay under the radar, harder to track or trace.”
“Yep. This guy knows what he’s doing.”
Mint flipped the phone open. He ran his thumb across the keys, headed for the power button. The phone screen flashed once, then went dark. “What…”
Instinct had him fling the phone away from him. Two feet from his head, flying across the room, the phone blew up. A localized explosion—couldn’t pack that much plastic explosives in the case of a small phone anyway.
The flash of light was bright. The sound was what hit him.
Mint found himself on his back, staring up at the ceiling. His ears rang so loud the pain was blinding. He covered them with his hands, half expecting to find blood trailing down the sides of his face.
He rolled over and found Craig unconscious. Mint felt around his head and found a knot behind one ear. Knocked unconscious by the blast.
Smoke hung in the air.
He got his colleague outside where it was clearer and laid him down on the grass of the front lawn. Didn’t want to stumble across anything else blowing up.
A phone that blew up. Who knew what tech it’d had in it? Something able to tell that it wasn’t Aaron Jones holding the phone. It had looked completely normal. Smart phones these days could be unlocked with a fingerprint. Maybe he’d triggered the bomb with his thumb. Or Aaron had had to type in a code within a certain amount of time.
Which meant he’d had a direct line to the blackmailer.
It was far too coincidental for it to be anything else—or belong to anyone else. Even given the house was a rental. Aaron Jones definitely worked for the blackmailer. Whoever it was had their sights on Emma, and how she might be useful to him. Or her.
And they were playing for keeps.
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