Shattered

by Allison Brennan

  A murderer would be in prison and that was the most important thing.

  Lucy answered the door as soon as Carina knocked. She was dressed for work—slacks, a button-down shirt, and a blazer. Connor was right behind her in jeans and a leather jacket.

  “I’m meeting Max downstairs in twenty minutes,” Lucy said.

  “Nelia called me last night,” Carina began. “She told me about your conversation with her. She also talked to Dad.”

  “I didn’t ask her to do that.”

  “Connor and Julia were over for dinner when she called, and we all had a long talk. I don’t think Nelia and I have talked in years … not like that. Nothing more than superficial conversation. While I was thinking of her when you announced you were investigating Justin’s murder, I was thinking more about myself. What I went through, that the police suspected me, that I looked into Justin’s murder as soon as I became a cop and there was nothing—no evidence, no suspects, nothing. I assumed that if I couldn’t find anything and I was there at the time that you certainly wouldn’t be able to find anything, but that all this shit would be dredged up again and I would be … I don’t know. I really don’t know what I was thinking, but I was being selfish.”

  “I understand.” In part. Maybe she wouldn’t completely understand why her family had been set against her on this, but she didn’t hold it against any of them, especially Carina.

  “We’re also concerned about the reporter,” Connor said. “Reporters are not our friends.”

  “Max is … different.”

  Connor snorted and Carina shot him a look.

  Lucy said, “Max is going to write about Justin’s murder when we catch Danielle Sharpe and she’s been arrested for her crimes.”

  “And what about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Is she going to write about you?”

  “No.”

  “You trust her that much? That she won’t dig up your past?”

  Why did everything come back to her past? Was she supposed to hide and cower for fear that someone would find out that she’d been kidnapped and brutally raped? That she’d nearly died? That her injuries were so severe that she lost her uterus and could never have her own children? The truth was out there, if someone knew where to look and were really, really good at it. Max could find it if she wanted to. It would take her time, but she could figure it out.

  Through clenched teeth, Lucy said, “Not everything is about me.”

  “That’s not what we meant—” Carina began.

  Lucy cut her off, forced herself to relax. “Whether she finds out the truth about what happened isn’t what’s important. She won’t write about it.”

  “How can you be so damn sure?”

  “Because Sean had her promise not to write about him or me without our permission.”

  “And she’ll stick to it?” Connor shook his head. “A verbal agreement means nothing, especially to someone like her. I looked her up, she’s a bitch. What people have said about her—sure, she’s solved some cold cases and she doesn’t back down. But she’s all about ratings. What’s going to help her show. And if she thinks you will help her show, she’ll exploit you. We both know you’ve been involved in some situations that really wouldn’t be so great to be public. And I’m not talking about what happened when you were eighteen.”

  “She’s not all about the ratings. Yes, she is focused on her show and what she can use for it, but she made me a promise, and I believe she will live up to it. But truthfully, even if she did find out everything there is to know about me, should I let that stop me from bringing Danielle Sharpe to justice?”

  “There are other ways.”

  “We would have nothing if Max hadn’t found the connection between Justin and two other boys. We would have nothing if Max hadn’t come in and asked the hard questions. She wouldn’t have a case without my help—she would have theories, but no one here was going to help her because Justin’s murder was essentially off-limits for fear of upsetting the Kincaids.”

  “That includes you, Lucy,” Carina said softly.

  “And Andrew asked me for my opinion. Max has a keen eye, and she has included me from the beginning. We’re presenting our evidence with Andrew’s blessing, with Nelia’s blessing, and the help of Detective Katella. Dillon is going to be on speakerphone because he helped with the profile. A representative from the FBI is going to be there. But this wouldn’t have happened if Max and I didn’t work together.” She looked from her sister to her brother. “You called not ten minutes ago and said you wanted to help. Now you’re challenging me? I don’t have time for this or time to doubt myself.”

  “We’re not—” Carina began.

  “You are. You’re testing my resolve or, hell, I don’t know! But I’m not going to back down.”

  “I want to be there,” Carina said.

  “I don’t know,” Lucy said. “I’d like you to be, but I don’t know that I can trust you.”

  The sorrow that crossed Carina’s face was real. “Lucy, you’re a great cop. I really believe you found Justin’s killer. I want to listen to the evidence. I want to help stop her. It’ll give me closure, too. I need it—but if you really don’t want me there, fine. I’ll stand down.”

  What could she say? No? Could she even keep Carina out of the room considering that she was an SDPD detective on good terms with her chief?

  Sometimes, she still felt like a little girl. Her brothers and sisters were so much older than she was. Even Patrick, the next youngest, was nearly eleven years older than her. Was that what Thursday night was about? Lucy didn’t back down when her family ganged up on her, but would they ever see her as someone other than the lost girl she’d been after she’d been raped? Someone other than the little kid who tagged along with her older siblings?

  She’d thought after last year, when she mitigated the hostage crisis at the hospital, that they finally saw her as a grown woman, a cop who knew what to do and when to do it.

  “I’m not going to ban you,” Lucy said. “If you want to be there, I want you there. But if you undermine me, I will ask you to leave.”

  Carina clearly wasn’t expecting that answer—whether that she wanted her there or that she would really ask her to leave. Lucy couldn’t have someone second-guessing her when she was already nervous about everything that they’d done. Not that she’d done anything wrong, but her job was on the line and she wasn’t going to allow her family to turn a difficult situation into an impossible situation.

  “Thank you,” Carina said.

  “Are you joining us?” Lucy asked Connor. She had never been as close to Connor as Patrick. Maybe because fifteen years separating them was too much, she didn’t know. And then after Patrick’s coma, Connor had distanced himself even further. It wasn’t his fault—he had watched Patrick nearly die when they went to rescue Lucy and walked into a trap. Lucy sensed that he was conflicted about a lot of things, and it was just better if she steered clear. Yet, there were many things she loved about him, including his loyalty to his family.

  “No,” Connor said. “I shouldn’t have been involved in any way—this wasn’t my decision to make.”

  “You’re family.”

  “I was being overprotective of Carina, but in doing so, I hurt you. And I’m sorry.”

  “Apology unnecessary but accepted.”

  “It’s hard to see you all grown up. You aren’t the little girl who followed Patrick and me everywhere. You left for the East Coast practically a child and came back a woman, and it’s been … difficult, I suppose, to see you so focused and mature. And you’re close to Jack when no one else is. No one quite knows what he does or even if it’s legal.”

  Lucy was surprised to hear that from Connor, but he was right about one thing—when her father disowned Jack, it had taken Jack years to start building a relationship with his family again. Lucy wasn’t part of that—and she and Jack had bonded. Over tragedy and adversity, but he was a rock. Her rock.
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br />   Connor continued. “If you trust this reporter, I’ll accept your judgment. And it’s clear you found something solid, otherwise the chief would never meet with you.”

  “It is solid. Danielle will break as soon as she’s questioned—I’m ninety percent certain. So is Dillon. We’ll get her. We just have to find her, and we have enough information to turn over that the police should be able to locate her. We suspect she’s in California.”

  Connor said, “Can Carina go with you? I drove her over here.”

  “Sure.”

  Carina was relieved, and they all walked down to the lobby together. Max was waiting—talking on her phone—and raised her eyebrows when Lucy approached.

  “I’ll call you when I have something solid,” she said into the phone, then ended the call. “Isn’t this a pleasant surprise,” she said drolly.

  “Carina is going to join us for the meeting with Chief Causey,” Lucy said.

  Max didn’t say anything.

  Lucy gave Connor a hug. “Thank you for understanding,” she said.

  “If you need me, for anything”—he gave Max a sidelong look full of suspicion—“call me. Anytime.”

  “I will.”

  Connor left and Max said, “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  Max turned and strode out of the lobby. Her rental car had already been brought around to the front. It was all Lucy could do to keep up with her long stride.

  “Carina wants to be involved,” Lucy said quietly. “She wants to help.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I am.”

  Max slid into the driver’s seat. It didn’t take long to arrive at SDPD headquarters, but Max was silent the entire drive. So she was irritated. Lucy didn’t regret bringing Carina along. Knowing the truth would only help her sister—and the rest of her family.

  As soon as they arrived, Carina spotted her longtime partner and excused herself.

  “I’m not going to apologize,” Lucy said to Max as they waited for their escort to the chief’s office.

  “For what?”

  “You’re mad that I brought Carina.”

  “Not mad. Mildly irritated. She could have been helping from the beginning, but I’m not upset that she’s here. Truthfully, the more law enforcement on board, the better chance we have of building the case and for the DA or AUSA to get a conviction. I may not be a cop or a lawyer, but I’ve followed enough trials and investigations to know that with something like this, more cooks makes for a better meal.”

  Lucy wasn’t sure she’d have used that analogy, but she understood what Max meant.

  “Then why the silent treatment?”

  “Truthfully? I had an argument with my boyfriend this morning. He’s in northern California and wants me to come up for a few days after I’m done with Blair Caldwell’s trial.”

  “And? What’s the argument?”

  “I took what you said to heart—that he might have this twisted thought that he’s protecting me or that he doesn’t want the negativity in our relationship or some such nonsense. So I told him as much. And he finally told me why he won’t share.” She glanced around, then lowered her voice. “He said he knows what I will say, that I will tell him he’s being manipulated by his ex-wife. But ultimately, he’ll do anything to keep joint custody of his son, and it would only frustrate both of us if we discuss it.”

  “Is he right?”

  “Partly. He is being manipulated, but it’s more than that. It’s like extortion. Nancy has something that Nick desperately wants—time with his son—and he’s willing to do anything for it. He’s going by the rules—the legal process, the court system—and she then changes the rules midgame. It’s wholly unfair, and Nick is being hung by his balls because he won’t call her bluff.”

  “He doesn’t want to risk his son.”

  “I get that. I don’t want him to risk his relationship. He says we’ll talk, but it’s more of the same. It’s tearing Nick apart and I can’t watch, especially when he won’t let me be involved.”

  In a mere whisper, Max said, “And maybe I just don’t love him enough to ignore all this.”

  Lucy felt for Max—it was clear she had feelings for Nick, but it was also clear that she was losing respect for him. “Sometimes, when I have a difficult decision, I consider each possible choice I could make and run through the outcomes—not what will happen, but how I will feel about each outcome. How would you feel if you ended the relationship?”

  “I’ve thought about it a lot, especially since September. I would miss our conversations, I would miss the sex even though we don’t see each other all that often. Definitely miss the sex. But I don’t think I would be torn apart by ending the relationship. And I don’t think Nick would be, either.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  A uniformed officer came out to escort Lucy and Max to a large conference room. Lucy was surprised that they had such a large group of people. Andrew, Carina, Don Katella, two uniformed officers, and three detectives—or so she thought—that she didn’t recognize. The chief then walked in with FBI SSA Ken Swan. Lucy had met him a year ago when she was visiting her dad in the hospital over Christmas and became embroiled in a hostage situation.

  “Agent Swan,” Lucy said.

  “Agent Kincaid. Good to see you again. Do you have a minute?”

  Lucy almost panicked, suspecting that this was going to be bad news considering her conversation with her boss an hour ago. “Of course.”

  She stepped out of the room with Swan.

  “Just wanted you to know that I got word from Denver—Sharpe made contact with her ex last night, and as you suggested, he spoke to her. When you’re right, you’re right—the woman is certifiable.”

  “Were you able to trace it?”

  “It lasted less than two minutes. Collins tried to extend the conversation, but no dice. We know what region, however—it came from Southern California. The techs narrowed it to Los Angeles, Orange County, or San Bernardino.”

  “That’s more than we had before.”

  “You need to hear it. She called just after midnight Denver time.”

  “We have to present—”

  “Two minutes.” He pulled out his phone and earbuds and handed it to Lucy. She put the earbuds in and Swan pressed Play.

  Lucy closed her eyes.

  “Hello,” Richard Collins said. Lucy could hear the strain in his voice.

  Danielle didn’t say anything for several seconds.

  “Who is this?” Richard said.

  “Me,” Danielle said.

  “It’s after midnight. You can’t keep calling me so late. I have to work.”

  “Matthew would have been thirty on Friday.”

  “I never forget his birthday, Danielle.”

  “We didn’t deserve to have him.”

  “That’s not true. We loved him.”

  “No, we didn’t. If we loved him, we would have been there that night.”

  “You don’t believe that. Listen, I have an idea. Let’s meet in Tallahassee on Friday, okay? Have lunch? Talk about this—talk about Matthew. You have to find a way to put this behind you.”

  “Behind me? He was murdered, Richard! Because I wasn’t there to protect him. Because you were fucking another woman! He’s dead and it’s all our fault!”

  That was new, Lucy realized. On the previous conversations, she hadn’t said anything about her blame. She was either escalating or something had happened with the family she was stalking.

  “It’s not your fault or my fault. It was Paul Borell and he’s in hell.”

  “I’m in hell! And I wish you were there with me!”

  She disconnected the call. She said to Ken, “Can you send that to Dr. Dillon Kincaid? He’s going to be on the conference call, but I want him to listen to it first.”

  “E-mail?”

  She gave him Dillon’s contact information.

  “She has a victim,” Lucy said. “She has a plan—we have to find her
fast.”

  “Denver is working on the tech, but I don’t think they’re going to get any closer.”

  “We have a room full of smart people, we’ll figure it out before the morning is over,” Lucy said.

  “How long can you stay here? I can clear it with your SSA—Richardson already gave me the approval.”

  She needed to be honest with Ken from the beginning. “I took time off to be here, but I didn’t tell my boss why.”

  “And he would have a problem with it?”

  “She might. She’s new to the office. We’ve been in a bit of flux this year—my SSA left on paternity leave, we had a temporary guy, and now the original SSA is retiring early. I don’t want to make waves.”

  “I can smooth over anything, but if you don’t want me to call, I won’t. Still, I can’t guarantee that your name isn’t going to come up. If we arrest this person and there’s a trial, you’ll have testimony, briefing the AUSA, any number of things.”

  She hadn’t even thought that far ahead.

  “Did you lie to her about what you were doing?” Ken asked.

  “No, not really. I said family issues. I don’t lie well, so I thought being vague would be best.”

  “I’ll talk to Richardson, see what she thinks we should do. I’d like you to be part of this—you earned it.”

  “I just want this woman stopped.”

  “You and me both.”

  * * *

  Lucy let Max present their findings—how she became interested in the cold cases, what she put together and when, and then the timeline. Lucy presented the profile of Danielle Sharpe—a woman so destroyed by grief and anguish that she had a need to spread the suffering to others. She had turned her actions into punishment of sorts—not only for herself, but for anyone who mirrored her own failed life.

  They were in the middle of questions when Ken Swan excused himself from the room.

  Something was definitely up—he had his phone to his ear before the door closed.

  Chief Causey said, “Ken, Andrew, and I already hashed out jurisdictional details—the FBI is taking lead, our office is providing whatever support they need. Andrew has a conflict of interest, and it would be far better for the federal government to prosecute—especially since we’re dealing with a minimum of three jurisdictions and potentially more. But, Ms. Revere, I have a question for you. Do you think in any way that my squad was incompetent or made critical mistakes after Justin Stanton was killed?”