Oh, Nick, Anna thought. What did you do?
The intercom buzzed. Laprea yanked the door open and stalked into the building, her hair swinging with the beat of her angry footsteps. Tyler clicked a few buttons and the four-way screen appeared again. They watched Laprea storm through the lobby and into the elevator. The time stamp read 23:21 when the elevator doors slid shut. Whatever happened after that was off camera.
Tyler looked back at Anna, his eyes full of puzzlement and sympathy. He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew that it wasn’t good. Anna realized that she was squeezing Tyler’s chair so hard that her fingernails had cut four little crescents into the black leather. She let go and forced her hands to relax at her sides.
“Tyler,” she managed to say, “can you tell if they left the building that night?”
“Anna,” he said miserably.
“Please.”
He paused a moment, then fast-forwarded through the rest of the night. People came and went through the lobby, but there was no sign of Laprea, D’marco, or Nick.
“That doesn’t mean she spent the night,” Tyler explained. “They could have left through the garage.”
“Is that recorded?”
“I can’t tell when somebody leaves the garage in a car. The weight of the car opens the gate automatically. But I can tell when people come in. You need a key card.” He opened another screen, full of columns of numbers, and scrolled down through the entries. “Here we go.” Tyler pointed to the screen. “Nick swiped his card to get back into the garage at four fifteen.”
“In the morning.”
“Yes.”
Anna felt nauseous. The walls of the building felt like they were closing in on her. She had to get out of here. Thanking Tyler through clenched teeth, she strode to the front door.
“Anna,” Tyler called after. She turned back to look at him. “I don’t know what’s going on. But I know Nick cares about you. I don’t know what he was doing with that lady, but for what it’s worth, I never saw him bring her here again. I haven’t seen him with any other woman since you stopped coming around.”
She nodded wordlessly and pushed her way into the cool spring air.
37
Anna headed south on 18th Street, down the big hill leading downtown. She was on autopilot. Her legs carried her on her normal path toward the Dupont Circle Metro. To the casual observer, she was just another young woman in a suit hurrying down the street. But she was shaking with shock. She hardly saw the neighborhood in front of her, instead replaying the image of Laprea standing in the elevator as the steel doors closed in front of her battered face.
At Connecticut Avenue, Anna’s feet automatically steered her toward the Metro’s escalators. She should go back to work, find Jack, and tell him—what? She needed to think. And she didn’t want to go down into the subway. She wanted to stay in motion. She would walk. She took long, cleansing breaths and tried to find her center, as if this were a yoga exercise.
Anna veered around the subway entrance and kept walking, past the busy coffee shops and stores, crossing over the traffic circle and through the grassy park that was Dupont Circle. The cheerfulness of the crowds sitting on benches around the marble fountain, enjoying one of the first days of spring, contrasted with the empty coldness in her chest.
First Green, now Nick—was every man she had relied upon a liar? What terrible secret must Jack be hiding? No, Anna told herself. Jack wasn’t perfect, but he was honest. That wasn’t much of a consolation now that he hated her.
Anna walked even faster, venting her frustration on the pavement. As she reached the posh shopping district in the Golden Triangle section of Connecticut Avenue, Anna slowed in front of the twinkling showcase windows of the Tiny Jewel Box. Engagement rings were on display, their diamonds scattering the sunlight into a million tiny rainbows. She had to admit, she’d thought about rings like this earlier this very afternoon, when Nick told her he was quitting his job.
Was it just this afternoon? It seemed like months ago.
She’d thought she knew who Nick was. A competitor, but fair, she had thought. Could he instead be someone who would tell a crime victim to lie under oath to protect his client? Could he have let Laprea in, talked to her, and then driven her home, where D’marco killed her? Or could the truth be worse? Anna remembered the animal hair found on Laprea’s body; could it have been from Nick’s alpaca rug? She recalled the way that Nick had encouraged his client to take a plea at the beginning of the murder case, and how his opening statement this morning had seemed unusually bland. She wondered about the fact that D’marco’s trial had taken place so quickly, without the usual defense continuances.
Maybe Nick had wanted his client to be convicted.
Then Anna thought about how Nick looked at her when he was inside her. The contrast between that memory and the terrible things she was imagining made her dizzy.
Connecticut Avenue ended at Lafayette Park, a square of grass and tulips in front of the White House. Anna took the sidewalk that sliced diagonally through the park, and then followed the black metal fence around the White House and down 15th Street. If she turned left on F, she would be at her office in a few minutes. After a moment’s hesitation, she kept walking south on 15th, cutting through the Mall, ignoring the joggers and children flying kites. At the end of the long grassy field, she crossed another busy road, and then found herself on the path ringing the Tidal Basin.
The cherry blossoms were just budding, creating a fluffy pink halo of trees around the wide pool. The Jefferson Memorial stood at the edge of the water, its white marble dome and Ionic columns contrasting with the purple dragon-shaped paddleboats dotting the water in front of the monument. It was almost five, but the sidewalk ringing the water was still crammed with tourists snapping pictures, pushing strollers, and picking a few unlucky blossoms. Anna was relieved to join the crowd flowing along the sidewalk.
When she got to the Jefferson Memorial, she sank down on one of the marble steps. The beautiful view of the Tidal Basin and its ring of blossoming trees was wasted on her. She thought instead about picnicking here with Nick last summer, how he’d teased her when she fed the fat ducks, the soft press of his lips skimming hers as he kissed her in the dappled sunlight.
She just wanted Nick to be a good guy.
She realized that she was in a position similar to that of many of the domestic violence victims she worked with. She had the power to destroy a man she loved, with just a few words.
Anna finally understood why so many of the women couldn’t bring themselves to do it.
Her cell phone rang, interrupting her reverie. She looked up and saw that the sun was setting, leaving streaks of pink in the darkening sky above the cherry blossoms. She’d been sitting here for an hour. The crowd had thinned and all the paddleboats were docked. Most of the tourist families had headed back to their hotels for dinner.
Anna looked at her phone. It was Nick. She obviously couldn’t have drinks with him tonight. She would cancel their plans and hang up.
“Hi, Nick,” Anna answered, surprised at how normal she was able to keep her voice.
“Hey, beautiful,” Nick said. “It’s good to be able to call you again. Where do you want to meet?”
“Actually, I can’t see you tonight. I’m sorry.”
“Why? If you’re working late, I’ll just swing by your office.”
“No, I left already.”
“Then I’ll come to your house.”
“I didn’t go home,” Anna interrupted. “I took a walk to the Jefferson Memorial. I needed to think.”
“Great. I’ll meet you at the Jefferson.”
“No! Nick, don’t come here—”
“I’ll see you in an hour.”
The line clicked as Nick hung up.
Anna stared at the phone as the sky continued to darken.
She sat there for several minutes, wondering what to do. Finally, she slid her cell phone open again and dialed Jack’s office. S
he got his voice mail. “Dammit,” she cursed under her breath. Was he still avoiding her? She pressed “0” and got his secretary.
“Hi, Miss Vanetta, this is Anna. Can I talk to Jack?”
“Sorry, hon, he stepped out for a moment, but if you want to leave a—”
“Listen,” Anna interrupted. “I’m sorry, but this is an emergency. Whatever he’s doing, I need you to tell him it’s me—and that it’s urgent. Please.”
“Hang on a sec,” Vanetta said doubtfully.
A moment later Jack picked up the line.
“Hi, Anna.” His voice was coolly professional. “What’s going on?”
Anna took a deep breath. Then she told him everything she’d found out since they’d said good-bye outside of the courthouse.
As she spoke, her view of the cherry blossoms became blurred, and she felt a cool wetness on her cheeks. She brought her hand up to wipe away the tears streaming down her face, and tried not to let Jack hear that she was crying as she told him all the details. But it was the hardest conversation she’d ever had. By turning this information over, Anna was betraying a man she had once loved—and might have loved again if things had been different. She was doing what she had asked so many DV victims to do: to tell the truth, even though it meant the end of her own relationship and the possible imprisonment of a man who, whatever else he had done, had at times made her very happy.
She wasn’t just doing it for a principle: truth or justice for their own sakes. She was doing it for Laprea. For Jody. And for herself, to restore her own sense of honor.
As she came to the end of her story, Anna bit her lip in an attempt to steady her voice. Then she said out loud the words she’d been thinking and dreading. “Jack,” she said hoarsely. “I think Nick was involved in Laprea’s death.”
She hung her head with the relief of unburdening her story, the grief of having learned it, and a feeling of vicarious shame, as if she were also to blame for whatever Nick had done, because she had loved him. At least she had done the right thing now, she thought miserably. The truth was out.
But she knew that simply turning over what she’d found wasn’t enough at this point. She needed to do more.
“I want you to wire me up,” she said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Right now. Nick is coming to meet me at the Jefferson Memorial in an hour—around seven o’clock. He’s the one who insisted on meeting me here. He won’t think it’s a setup. Let me see what I can get from him.”
There was silence on the other end of the line.
“Jack? Are you there?”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Anna, listen. I appreciate you coming forward with this information. And your willingness to wear a wire. But . . . I don’t like the idea of sending you out there. It’s dangerous. You could get hurt.”
“This is a homicide investigation, not a bake sale,” she said wryly. “Come on, you use cooperators all the time—you wire people up for a living. This is a great opportunity. You know it’s a great opportunity.”
He paused uneasily. “I’m not even sure we can get there in time.”
“I have faith in you, Jack. I’ll see you soon.”
She hung up before he could come up with any more excuses. She was touched that he still cared enough to be concerned for her safety. But physical safety was the least of her worries. This was about finally making things right.
She just hoped Jack would get there in time.
38
Tyler sat behind the reception desk, flipping through an issue of Architectural Digest. The front door opened and Tyler looked up from his magazine as Nick walked in. The receptionist’s hands tightened guiltily on the glossy pages when he saw who it was.
“How’s it going, Tyler?” Nick called as he passed the front desk.
“Nick,” Tyler said tentatively.
“Hm?” Nick didn’t slow his step.
“I did something I probably shouldn’t have.”
“What’s that?” Nick paused with his hands on the elevator call button. He turned back to the receptionist. Tyler wore a tortured look.
“Anna came by this afternoon,” Tyler started.
Nick walked slowly back to the receptionist and stood in front of the desk. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for more. Tyler hurried on.
“She . . . well, she wanted to look at some security tapes from a night awhile back. She was looking for another woman.”
“Jesus. You didn’t let her, right?”
“I was sure there wasn’t anyone else, so I didn’t see the harm! I shouldn’t have. Anyway, I want to give you a heads-up. She was pretty upset when she left here.”
“What was the date you looked at?”
“A night last summer. Um . . . August sixteenth.”
The blood drained from Nick’s face, leaving his skin a sickly gray.
“Are you okay?” Tyler asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Nick choked out a reply. “Did she give you a subpoena?” Tyler looked puzzled. “A piece of paper. Did she say anything about an investigation?”
“An investigation? No. What do you mean?”
Nick turned away. He hurried toward the front door, paused, then turned back around and walked to the elevator bank.
“Nick, I’m really sorry!” Tyler called as Nick got onto the elevator. Nick didn’t reply.
• • •
The elevator deposited Nick in the underground parking garage. He walked over to his BMW, parked in its usual spot, and clicked the key fob, unlocking the car with a chirp.
Before Nick could open the door, his body convulsed. He turned to the concrete wall and vomited. First his lunch came up, and then that ran out and he was retching bile, and then even the bile ran out, and he was dry-heaving at the pavement. Finally, his convulsions subsided. He put a hand up on the wall to steady himself, and stared at the mess by his feet.
After he’d caught his breath, Nick got into his car and found a napkin to wipe his mouth. He didn’t start the car immediately. Instead, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. After several minutes, he opened them and looked at the glove compartment. He popped the latch and reached inside for the black handgun. Nick turned it over in his hands, measuring the weight of the cold metal. He ejected the magazine, looked at it, then reinserted it—the gun was fully loaded. He slipped the gun into his coat pocket and started his car.
39
Anna watched the last traces of red and purple fade into the indigo of the city night. The Jefferson Memorial was lit up against the dark night sky, its glowing white pillars and dome mirrored in the black waters of the Tidal Basin. The place was nearly deserted. Standing at the edge of the stone patio by the water, Anna could see the ghostly outlines of cherry blossoms on the other side of the Tidal Basin. The trees reflected the light of the monument the way the moon reflects the sun. She could make out a small white light across the water, and she used it as a focal point, centering her gaze on it to calm her nerves.
As she waited for Nick, Anna rubbed her arms for warmth. She knew it wasn’t the temperature giving her goose bumps. Her black suit and white blouse were adequate protection from the springtime cool. She was nervous.
She heard purposeful footsteps behind her and turned around to see Nick walk out of the shadows. He smiled, but a wild look in his eye spoiled his trademark grin.
“Hi, Anna.” Nick stood in front of her, his hands in the pockets of his trench coat. He greeted her with a smile, but didn’t reach out to touch her. “Thanks for waiting for me.”
“Sure, Nick. How are you? You look—actually you look kind of pale.”
Nick choked out a short laugh. “I want to talk to you, Anna. But only to you. Do you understand me?” Anna looked at him but didn’t respond. Nick scowled, then gestured across the patio to a grassy area next to the monument. Under a tree, beside the marble wall, it was dark. “There.”
Anna swallowed, then let him lead her across the patio.
They stood in the d
arkness of an old oak tree. Nick studied Anna with wary eyes. He reached out one gloved hand and caressed her cheek. Then he ran his hand down the side of her face, to her neck. Suddenly, he grabbed the lapel of her blouse with both hands and ripped it apart.
“What are you doing?” Anna cried, trying to push his hands away. Nick grabbed her wrists and held them tightly behind her back.
“Shhh,” he said.
He tore the front of her blouse open, popping several silk buttons. His hand skimmed over her breasts, then around the waistline of her pants. He spun her around and frisked the small of her back. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he loosened his grip. Anna yanked herself out of his grasp.
“Jesus, Nick, what the fuck?” She tried to fill her voice with righteous indignation.
But she knew what he was doing. She looked down at the lacy white underwire bra, the only hardware on her body.
Nick shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I had to see if you were wired.”
“You could’ve just asked me,” she snapped. She tried to close her blouse, but too many buttons were gone, and it hung open, exposing her cleavage. She tugged the fabric over her breasts and crossed her arms to keep the shirt in place.
Nick shook his head. “I had that in a case once. My client walked up to a snitch and whispered, ‘Are you wired?’ Right into the microphone. The jury loved that tape.”
“What the hell is going on, Nick?” Anna tried to sound angry, but she felt a blossoming fear.
Nick put his hands in his coat pockets. “The surveillance video at my apartment,” Nick stated flatly, confirming Anna’s fears. “What did you see?”
Anna exhaled slowly. “I don’t know what I saw. Maybe you’d better explain it to me.”
Nick looked around. The memorial was deserted except for a few random couples around the Tidal Basin.
Law of Attraction Page 30