“Lisa was encouraging her foster girls to keep up their schoolwork. She was going to attend law school. No more waiting for scholarships. The lottery win was going to make her dreams come true.”
“Maria found Lisa’s body this morning,” Zack said gently. “Apparently, they carpooled to work.”
The coffee in Mandy’s stomach swirled in a sucking vortex of grief. She fought down nausea.
Lisa was dead.
And Mandy’s hands trembled. “How?”
Zack slipped his hands over hers, and she held on, an anchor to cling to. “Forensics hasn’t released a report, but Maria said her throat was cut. Her apartment was torn apart. Lisa had defensive wounds on her hands, indicating she fought back.”
“Oh . . . God. If they were torturing her to make her give them the ticket . . . she didn’t have it.”
“We don’t know what happened. Try not to make assumptions.”
“Did they catch—”
He shook his head. “Detectives are dusting for prints and conducting interviews.”
She stared at him, shock making it difficult to draw a good breath. “How do you know—”
“The DEA did the Tampa Police Department a favor last year. One of their guys is keeping me informed as a professional courtesy.”
Just then the waiting room doors swung open, and Mandy glanced up to see Catherine and Dana’s husband, Sam. Dylan Sawyer, Tampa’s mayor and Sam’s best friend, was with them. Catherine hurried toward her, but the men hesitated, their heads together, their voices low, apparently discussing important business. Although they kept their tones hushed, Mandy recognized Sam’s tight expression, and guessed their business wasn’t pleasant.
Catherine, impeccably dressed in a red power suit and white blouse, sank down beside them. She dragged a red-rimmed gaze over Mandy, then enfolded Zack in a hug. “Thanks for flying out.”
“Of course, I’d come,” he reassured her.
“After Lisa’s murder, we really need you. And I missed you.” Catherine gazed lovingly at her son and frowned at his fading bruises. “What happened to your face?”
“Nothing to worry about, and I missed you, too, Mom.” Zack kept his arm slung over his mother’s shoulder, his affection easy and genuine. Then he stood and offered his hand to his brother-in-law, Sam, who’d just finished giving Mandy a quick hug, then shook the mayor’s hand. Catherine refrained from asking Zack more about his injuries, but her worried gaze remained on the scar on his forehead.
While the men said their hellos, Mandy watched Zack. Stance casual, he nevertheless regarded Sam Hansen with a reserve he didn’t bother to hide. Obviously, Zack didn’t like Dana’s husband, and she couldn’t help but wonder why.
Sam was one of the best criminal attorneys in the city. While he wasn’t one of Mandy’s favorite people either, for Dana’s sake she made an effort to get along and ignored his cocky nature. Shorter than Zack, Sam’s broad shoulders, barrel chest, and custom-tailored suit attested to his success and position in the community. His clients were often wealthy, his cases media darlings, and his courtroom wins legendary.
As sole owner of his firm, he’d used his profits to invest in real estate throughout the city. He was on a first-name basis with powerful judges, the city planning commissioners, and the current Mayor of Tampa, a tall, reed-thin distinguished gentleman with steely blue eyes and bushy gray eyebrows, who was in the process of excusing himself from the family gathering.
But when the newscaster began a report about Mitch Anderson, a county administrator missing on his sailboat somewhere in Tampa Bay, the men halted to watch the newscast. Apparently Mitch’s family had no idea he’d taken off in his boat and hadn’t heard from him in two days. The Coast Guard had begun a search, and the clip ended with Mitch’s tearful wife, a baby in her arms, pleading with the public to keep an eye out for her missing husband.
As soon as the news clip ended, the mayor left, leaving Sam standing in awkward silence with Catherine and Zack. No one looked like they knew what to say, and she felt bad for all of them.
Sam was not an overprotective husband, but he certainly appeared concerned now. He hadn’t shaved. His eyes were bloodshot. He’d chewed his unlit cigar until it had shredded. That he’d pulled strings to remain at Dana’s bedside through the night and made certain she’d received top-notch care showed he was doing what he could to help.
“Does Dana know about Lisa’s death?” Mandy asked Catherine, who nodded.
“She saw the morning news. Because of her head injury, the doctors didn’t sedate her, but she’s holding up in her own way.”
Sam released a sigh of exasperation. “Instead of resting, she’s been searching her data, trying to find every case that links her, Mandy, and Lisa.”
“I have that information at the office,” Mandy offered. “Dana should rest. But why is she bothering with the cases when someone was after the lottery ticket?”
“You can’t assume that,” Zack told her.
Mandy hadn’t thought to connect their attack with anything other than the three-hundred-and-sixty-million-dollar ticket. But when she thought about it, why would anyone have murdered Lisa early this morning? After the ticket had been stolen.
Perhaps Zack was right. The women all worked in the same office, and there might be some connection between them besides the lottery ticket. A case. A client.
“Have you or my sister had any death threats?” Zack asked, clearly remembering the last time he’d been here.
Mandy shook her head. “But the cases we’re working together are complicated. We’ve hired outside PIs and forensic accountants. Lisa coordinates our efforts. We’ll have access to her records at the office.”
“The chief of police promised me he’d put his best detectives on the case,” Sam said. “He believes the attacks must be related to the lottery ticket. And Lisa’s apartment was ransacked—either before or after her murder.”
“Lisa might have been one of the winners, but she didn’t have the ticket,” Mandy protested.
Zack frowned. “Her murderer may not have known that or that the ticket’s been stolen. So he may still be looking.”
Sam’s voice was full of concern. “You all need to be careful. Close the firm for a few days.”
“No, Sam.” Catherine shook her head. “We have clients that can’t wait. I’ve hired bodyguards to protect us.”
“Mom,” Zack said, “I’m not letting any of you risk your lives over—”
“I agree.” Sam chewed his unlit cigar. “Let the police solve the case, and you all stay home.”
This was way too much protective testosterone for Mandy, and the annoyed tilt to Catherine’s jaw suggested that she felt the same way. Under normal circumstances, Mandy would have waited for Catherine to assert her authority, but she looked so tired.
“Lisa was murdered at home. What makes you think we’ll be any safer?” Mandy asked. “And suppose they don’t ever solve the case?”
Maria slammed open the door to the waiting room, her bodyguard beside her, who, after visually checking out the room, remained by the threshold. Maria wore her usual work clothes, a button-down shirt, slacks, and a sweater over her arm, as if ready for a casual day in the office . . . until Mandy looked into her dark-brown eyes and recognized shock and anguish. Maria had found Lisa’s body, and the horror of what she’d seen remained in her weary eyes. She pressed her lips together, and her voice wobbled. “Is Dana—”
“She’s going to be all right,” Catherine repeated.
“Dios.” Maria flung herself into a chair. “Sylvia said to tell you she’s holding down the fort at the office, but we’re to call her if there’s any news.”
Sam’s cell phone rang. “Yes. I ordered five dozen white roses. My wife deserves the best.” He hung up the phone. “I must be in court within
the hour. But if you need me—”
Catherine nodded. “Thanks, Sam. The doctors should release Dana this morning. I’ll stick around and take her home.” She shooed Maria, Mandy, and Zack toward the door. “There’s nothing more to be done here. Go home. Or go to work, but please be careful.”
Maria stood, trembling slightly. “I’ve rescheduled my deposition. The judge delayed my afternoon hearing. I’m heading home.”
“Take as long as you need, dear,” Catherine squeezed her arm. “Have you spoken to Lisa’s family?”
Maria’s eyes filled with tears. “Assuming the autopsy will be done in time, the funeral’s planned for tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Mandy wasn’t ready to bury her associate. She still had trouble believing she’d died.
“She was Jewish,” Maria said. “Her religion calls for the burial to take place as quickly as possible. It’s their way of honoring the dead. Burials are postponed a day only if relatives cannot arrive in time, and, in Lisa’s case, there’s only her foster family, who live in town.”
“Did you know Lisa well?” Zack asked Maria.
Maria shrugged. “I know her parents died in a car accident when she was a kid and her foster parents are decent people. We talked about stuff during our drive to work. Why?”
“Most often a violent murder is committed by someone the victim knows. Did she have a man in her life?”
“An ex-husband, a jealous ex-boyfriend, and a new lover. I already told the police, why?”
“I handled her divorce,” Mandy admitted, recalling that Lisa’s ex-husband had given her the creeps. Every time she’d seen him, he’d been polite, but instead of looking at her, he’d seemed to look through her. He’d rarely spoken, and when he had, he’d used a gravelly voice that she’d found disturbing.
“Anything unusual about the divorce?” Zack asked.
“Her ex is an attorney,” Mandy volunteered. When Zack didn’t respond, she explained, “That means he knew his way around the court system. People owed him favors. He didn’t have to pay one cent for his divorce, and he made sure his wife didn’t have a penny to hire legal representation. We took her case pro bono.”
Zack wasn’t a lawyer, but clearly he understood about connections and pulling strings. His eyes sharpened with comprehension. “Was there anything else unusual?”
“You mean besides that the guy was into porn, the kinky kind?” Mandy replied.
Maria’s eyes widened. “What kind of porn? Men? Children?”
“Snuff films.” Mandy had the DVD titles in her files, and that list had given her the clout to reach a fair settlement. Lisa had only been married four years, but she’d put her own education on hold to put him through law school. “He was smarter and more of a creep than the usual ex. It could be relevant.”
Zack’s eyes narrowed. “The guy gets off on watching women have sex and then being killed. Yeah, in light of Lisa’s murder, I’d say it’s real relevant. Maybe the cops will lock him up, and this will be over soon.”
To Mandy, Lisa’s ex-husband hadn’t seemed the violent type. He’d been so quiet, but she recalled other murders reported on TV and interviews where neighbors had claimed that the killer was quiet, polite . . . before he exploded and stabbed some poor woman fifty times.
Maria clutched her purse tightly and appeared to force out words, seeming like a shadow of her normally vibrant self. “I heard one of the cops at the scene mention that Lisa might also have been raped, but we won’t know for certain until after the autopsy report.”
Sickened by the violence, Mandy started to shake. Sensing her distress, Zack urged her toward the door. “The cops will want a list of those films and anything else we find out about Lisa’s ex.” He spoke over his shoulder to his mother, worry in his eyes. “Mom, you take care of Dana, and none of you ladies are to go anywhere without protection.”
“You be careful, too,” Catherine told him, her gaze following them as if she feared more trouble to come.
Maria exited with them and headed the other way. Mandy walked beside Zack, actually relieved she wasn’t alone. Lisa’s death, coming so soon after the attack, had left her feeling sad, bewildered, and distressed. What had happened to her orderly life? Who was doing this to them?
But with Lisa’s murder, all their lives had changed. While she still wasn’t clear why Zack had ended up protecting her instead of Catherine or Dana, she hadn’t questioned Catherine, unwilling to cause her one more moment of distress. Mandy would cope with Zack.
As they walked through the hospital, past patients, visitors, and doctors in blue scrubs, she spoke quietly to Zack. “You believe the attacks on Lisa, Dana, and me are connected?”
“It makes sense. You handled Lisa’s divorce. Maybe the guy who tried to kill you on the bridge learned he’d failed, and then he attacked you in the garage last night before he killed Lisa.”
“He attacked Dana in the garage, not me. But the first man was white. Last night, the guy was black.”
Zack took her elbow to steer her around a gurney with a sad little boy, being pushed by an intern down the brightly lit corridor. “Maybe someone hired both assailants, and Dana just happened to be with you.”
“Maybe.” They exited the hospital into bright sunshine. Mandy was grateful to leave the chilly air of Tampa General Hospital. She breathed in the scent of salty air blowing off Tampa Bay, caught sight of a sailboat motoring under a bridge. Her entire life seemed out of kilter, yet for others, their day was ordinary. And poor Lisa . . . her life was over.
Sickened by her senseless death, Mandy ached for the woman who’d had such big plans, a woman with a good heart. She would be missed.
Zack matched Mandy’s pace along the sidewalk, loosening the top button of his shirt as if unaccustomed to the summer heat. “Perhaps it’s coincidence, but I think we simply haven’t found the right connection yet.”
Nothing seemed to make sense. A whirlwind of frustration and sorrow swirled around her, as cloying as the Florida humidity. “When I check my files on Lisa’s divorce, maybe I’ll find something else.”
“Pull the cases you and my sister worked on together, too.”
She appreciated Zack’s take on what was happening. She thought it ironic that the career that was so instrumental in keeping them apart allowed him to analyze their situation with a trained eye. “Don’t you think,” she asked, “that after all the publicity we’ve had on winning the Powerball lottery, it’s more likely we were attacked and Lisa was killed for the ticket?”
His assessing gaze raked the parking lot, taking in a young man on crutches, several couples, and a truck driver who was checking the tire on his vehicle before he turned to her. “It’s possible the incident on the bridge wasn’t connected to the attacks last night, and someone could have simultaneously sent men after Lisa, you, and Dana to grab the ticket. But slashing a throat is . . . personal, most likely done by someone who held a grudge, and someone Lisa knew.”
Mandy looked at him, puzzled. “But you were the one who suggested there was a connection between our attack and hers.”
Zack hesitated as if he didn’t want to say more, then his eyes flashed and his tone roughened. “If those reporters hadn’t followed you and Dana to the parking garage, you both might have ended up dead, too. And we have no idea who cancelled the security I’d arranged for you.”
He was scaring her. Was someone out there watching them right now? She glanced down the street at a car driving slowly by and shivered. The guy was simply looking for a parking space.
Relax. Zack would protect her, but she didn’t know how he stood it. Living every moment as if it could be his last.
Once she calmed a little and thought about it, she realized the facts didn’t add up. “The guy last night had a gun, and Lisa wasn’t shot.”
“Maybe the reporters showed
up before he pulled the knife.”
“Why would he do that? Isn’t it easier to kill with a gun than a knife?”
“Easier? Yes.” Zack’s eyes darkened. “But some killers prefer to make death more personal, more terrifying. For all we know, the bastard only gets his rocks off when he uses a knife.”
Chapter Ten
MANDY WALKED INTO the Catherine Taylor and Associates office building with Zack. Formerly a charming hotel, with a wrap-around front porch, that Catherine had converted into offices, the building had ample space for all the lottery winners—Catherine herself; three junior lawyers, Mandy, Dana, and Maria; their paralegal, Lisa, who pitched in as a secretary and who would never be coming back to work; and Sylvia Jacobson, who guarded the reception area. While they really needed another staff person, hiring someone had been put on hold for now. Even if they’d had the heart to start interviewing, who would possibly want to work here with the lawyers being picked off one by one?
The white-haired senior secretary, Sylvia, usually greeted Mandy with a motherly nod. It was part of her job to keep an eye on the comings and goings of the lawyers and clients. But when she saw Mandy, her eyes filled with tears and she hurried around her desk past her bodyguard to give Mandy a hug.
Since Mandy had seen Sylvia last—before her trip to California—Dana had been attacked, Lisa was dead, and they’d won and lost the lottery ticket. Sylvia pulled back from the hug. “You okay?”
Mandy spoke past the tightness in her throat. “I’m holding my own. What about you?”
“I’m a survivor, but it’s been rough, dear. The police were here this morning. They’ve already gone through Lisa’s belongings and taken her files. Feel free to go through anything they left behind.” Sylvia returned to her desk and handed Mandy her mail and messages. “Doesn’t look like anything that can’t wait.”
Zack insisted on checking Lisa’s office before allowing Mandy to enter. The cops had made a mess. Law books were all over the room, the empty file cabinets open. Dust from fingerprinting was on the phone, the fax, and the keyboard.
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