Shattered

by Allison Brennan

  “Sharpe’s desk,” Ken said. “Now.”

  The receptionist got back on the phone. It took longer to reach Nina this time, and when she did, she said, “They want to go to Danielle’s desk. They have a warrant.”

  She hung up and less than fifteen seconds later, a tall, burly man with a shocking head of white hair reminiscent of Albert Einstein came through an almost hidden set of doors on the far side of the lobby. Immediately behind him was a willowy brunette in impossibly tall spike heels.

  “I’m Archie Frank,” he said in a deep voice.

  Ken and Lucy showed their ID, the warrant, and explained that they needed to speak with Danielle Sharpe.

  “I’m Nina Fieldstone, Danielle’s supervisor. What’s this about?”

  Ken was about to speak, but Lucy was painfully aware of the two receptionists listening to the entire conversation. “Is there someplace we can go in private?” Lucy said.

  Frank turned and walked back through the doors. They followed. The first door on the left was a small conference room with the same stunning view. “I don’t appreciate the FBI coming in unannounced and terrorizing my staff.”

  “An overstatement,” Ken said. “Danielle Sharpe is wanted for questioning in a homicide investigation.”

  “Murder?” Nina said. “Danielle?”

  Frank shot her a look that said to shut up, and he said, “Warrant.”

  Ken handed him his phone. “We drove up from San Diego, I didn’t have time to print it.”

  Frank scrolled through. “This is vague.”

  “Not for me.”

  “Where is Ms. Sharpe?” Lucy asked.

  Nina looked at Frank, he nodded, and she said, “She called in sick this morning.”

  “Is that common?”

  “No—she had a doctor’s appointment last week, she has been under the weather—so I’m not surprised she took a sick day.”

  Was Danielle suspicious? Did her ex-husband say or do anything on the phone call that may have tipped her off? Lucy would have to listen to it again. Something wasn’t right.

  “We need her address immediately,” Lucy said, “and we have some questions for you both.”

  “I barely know Ms. Sharpe,” Frank said.

  “Sandra Gillogley gave her a recommendation two years ago and you hired her.”

  “Sandra is a longtime friend and colleague. She’s given many recommendations. Ms. Sharpe worked for her for a couple of years and did a good job, we needed someone with her experience.”

  “And that’s it?”

  He paused for a few seconds, then said, “Nina, I’m going to ask Trevor Banks to be our legal representative for this investigation.” He then said to Ken and Lucy, “Mr. Banks is one of our senior associates, he came from the Los Angeles City Attorney’s office and has extensive experience with criminal law and warrants. He’ll be your contact between this law firm and the FBI for the duration of the investigation into Danielle Sharpe. If you’ll excuse me.”

  He walked out. Lucy wanted to say no, she didn’t excuse him, because he was a pompous jerk. But Ken let him go. He turned to Nina.

  “I-I’m just stunned,” Nina said.

  “Are you friendly with Danielle?” Lucy asked.

  “Yes, we go out after work occasionally.”

  “Did you speak to her this morning when she called in?”

  “Briefly, she called on my cell phone, told me she was sick. She sounded sick, I told her to take the day off and if she needed another day to just let me know. She’s put in a lot of extra hours since the New Year for an important client.”

  “When was the last time you saw her?” Lucy asked.

  “Friday. Here at the office—she looked tired. She was supposed to come to Grace’s house—she’s another legal secretary—for a game of bunco. We have a group that plays once a month. But she said she hadn’t slept well, and felt under the weather.”

  “So you would say that you and Danielle are close?” Lucy didn’t buy it. Danielle wouldn’t be close to anyone.

  “I’m probably closer to her than anyone else here. Danielle is quiet, keeps to herself.”

  “But are you close? Like girlfriend, tell-each-other-secrets close?”

  “No, not like that.”

  “Did you know that her only son was murdered by a sexual predator twenty-three years ago?”

  Nina’s eyes widened. “No. All she ever said was that she was divorced.”

  The door opened and a young, attractive male in a suit walked in. “Trevor Banks.” He handed his card to both Ken and Lucy.

  “Kincaid,” Ken said, “go with Ms. Fieldstone and get Sharpe’s home address and phone number. Banks, take me to Danielle’s desk.”

  “Mrs. Fieldstone can’t be alone with one of your agents. Which is more important to you?”

  “Both,” Ken said. “A child’s life is in immediate danger and I’m not going to play one-upmanship with a bunch of lawyers.”

  “Agent Swan, there’s no need for—”

  “No bullshit, or I’ll arrest you for obstruction.”

  “You hardly have a case—”

  Lucy said, “If we don’t find Danielle Sharpe quickly, the son of one of your employees will be killed. We have evidence that she’s a serial killer, and every second you delay is a second closer to another murder.”

  Nina sucked in her breath.

  “I don’t think theatrics are necessary,” Banks said, though he looked both shaken and suspicious. “Nina, get Agent Kincaid what she needs. Agent Swan, with me.”

  Wasn’t that what Ken just asked for? Banks turned it around as if the order came from him. Ken winked at Lucy as he and Banks walked out.

  “Were you lying?” Nina asked as she led Lucy down a long hall and through a series of turns.

  “No.”

  “Dear Lord, I have a son.”

  “Where is he?”

  She looked at her watch. “My mother-in-law is picking him up from school. She watches him until I get off work. I need to call her.”

  “Call her, and then get me the file.”

  She shook her head. “She doesn’t have a cell phone. She walks to pick him up at school. She’ll be home a few minutes after three.”

  That was still nearly twenty minutes away.

  Nina’s office was private and spacious. She opened a file cabinet, pulled out a slender folder and handed it to Lucy.

  Lucy immediately opened it. A photo of Danielle—much more current than her driver’s license. Lucy took a picture of it and sent it to the team that Ken and Chief Causey had assembled this morning.

  She flipped through. Hiring dates, reviews, previous employer, address. “Address in Glendale—is this far?”

  “I haven’t been over there, but it’s just south of the Galleria.”

  Lucy had no idea where that was, but Nina made it sound like it was close.

  She sent Ken a text message with the information.

  Lucy asked Nina if she could have a copy of the file. Nina took the documents and left the room.

  Lucy looked around. Nina didn’t have the view of the L.A. skyline, but of the freeway below and hills beyond that. Her desk was immaculate, with a pen and pencil set, her name plate, and a grouping of pictures. Lucy noted one of Nina with a man she presumed was her husband and a cute boy of about six. They were at Disneyland and Minnie Mouse and Mickey Mouse had joined the family for a photo op. A school picture of the boy, this maybe a year more recent. His two front teeth were missing and one had just started to grow in. A wedding photo of a much younger Nina and her husband.

  Nina came back and handed Lucy the copy. “I had to get Banks to approve this, but it’s okay—it’s covered under the warrant.”

  Lucy could have told her that, but instead focused on the photos. “Your family?”

  “Yes. My husband—he’s a partner here. And our son, Kevin. He’ll be nine next month. The time sure goes … did you really mean that a child is in danger?”

  �
��Yes.” Lucy looked at her phone. Ken said he had sent over two agents with Glendale PD to Danielle’s residence and to let him know when she was done.

  Lucy wasn’t done. Banks wasn’t here, and Nina was thinking about something … Lucy had to get it out of her.

  “How many employees with your law firm? It’s public information, please don’t make me do the research.”

  “Um—well, with the partners, junior partners, associates, support staff … between sixty-five and seventy employees. I could get you exact numbers if you need them, but I’d need to run a report.”

  “The warrant didn’t specify employee information,” Lucy said, “but Danielle targets a specific type of family. The family has one child, a boy, under the age of ten, and both parents work. Who else—other than your family—fits that profile?” She didn’t want to mention the adultery—that would raise the woman’s hackles and she might not talk.

  “Oh, God—Kevin.” She pulled her cell phone out and dialed. “Mom? Mom—it’s Nina. Do you have Kevin?… I know, you always pick him up on time, I just … okay. Okay, I’m sorry, I was just thinking about him … yeah, I won’t be late, I know Monday is your bingo night.… Thanks, Mom.” She hung up and let out a deep breath. “Kevin’s safe. He and my mother-in-law just walked in the house. They’re making oatmeal raisin cookies.”

  She was nervous. Why?

  “What other families?”

  “I have to think…” She sat down heavily at her desk. Lucy sat across from her.

  “Carly has a boy. I don’t remember how old he is, maybe four now. She started working here after he was born.”

  Lucy took a note. “Carly what?”

  “Um, Carly Milligan. She works part-time, her husband is a surgeon. And then … no, they have a girl. Bruce Zarian has a boy. He’s one of the junior partners. Really nice guy. Melinda Cage—she’s an associate, she has a son. Well, she has two sons. The oldest is a teenager. I think she’s going through a divorce, I can find out—”

  “Look at the employee list if that helps. One child, a boy, under ten and over five. Married.” She paused. “And in each case, the father had been having an affair.”

  Nina’s face paled. “Wh-what? Sh-she kills husbands?”

  “No. She kills their son.”

  “Oh, God. Oh, God. This can’t be happening.”

  It clicked. “Is your husband having an affair?”

  “I-I don’t know. I don’t know. But … I am. I have to go to my son.”

  “I will have an agent pick him up at your mother’s house and bring him here. Okay?”

  “Okay. Okay. I have to talk to my husband. I can’t believe—”

  “Hold on one second, okay?”

  Lucy called Ken on the phone. “Ken, I need someone to pick up the Fieldstone boy at his grandmother’s house. He may be Danielle’s next target.”

  “I’ll call you right back. Send me the address.”

  “Plainclothes, discreet. If she’s stalking him, we don’t want her to become suspicious.”

  “Roger that.”

  Lucy got the address from Nina, sent it to Ken. “You and your husband are not in trouble here, but I need you to be completely honest in all your answers.”

  “Always. Are you getting my son?”

  “Yes, and my partner will get the names so you can give your mother-in-law the information.”

  “Can I call Tony?”

  “Yes.”

  She made a brief call.

  “I’m sorry about this,” Lucy said after she hung up, “but all the secrets need to come out.”

  “Tony knows. I’ve been having an affair with Grace for three years, since her divorce. It’s … comfortable. Tony and I are happy, we make it work. We’re talking about having another baby. I love him.”

  “And if he’s having an affair?”

  “I-I’ll deal with it. I still love him. I can’t very well say he can’t screw around if I’m doing it.”

  But Lucy could tell she was hurt. Either because he hadn’t told her or because she really was a hypocrite, Lucy couldn’t be certain.

  “From what we know, Danielle targets families where the husband is the adulterer. There are four known victims over twenty years.”

  “Twenty years?”

  “I can’t go into details, but we’re confident we have the right person.” Lucy looked at her phone. “Can you call your mother-in-law and tell her to expect two FBI agents within twenty minutes, a man and woman. They’ll be dressed casually and show their photo identification and badges. If Danielle is stalking your son—and she has stalked the other victims—we don’t want to tip her off. If anyone calls or asks your mother about Kevin leaving early, she needs to tell them that friends picked him up because his mother had to work late.”

  “What? Why?”

  “We don’t want Danielle knowing that we’ve identified her. She’s on edge, she may snap and do something unpredictable. The agents will bring Kevin here.”

  “But you’re going to find her, right?”

  The door opened and Tony Fieldstone walked in. Lucy recognized him from his photos. He was several years older than Nina, in good shape, and dressed impeccably.

  “What’s going on with Kevin?”

  He looked at Lucy, then said to his wife, “Nina, you can’t talk to the FBI without Trevor here. Archie told me they have a warrant, but that doesn’t mean—”

  “It’s Kevin.”

  He blinked. “What?”

  “Danielle’s wanted for murder. And Agent Kincaid thinks that she’s planning to hurt Kevin.”

  “Danielle?” He shook his head.

  “Sir, we’ve sent two agents to pick up your son at your mother’s house, and it’s imperative that we find Danielle Sharpe as soon as possible. I need to be blunt. She targets families who have one child and—”

  Nina said, “Tony, are you and Lana sleeping together?”

  The look on Tony’s face said it all. He couldn’t even respond to the blunt question.

  “I thought so,” Nina said. “I just—why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Not here, Nina! Not now—”

  “It’s as much my fault as yours,” Nina said, her voice cracking. “She kills children of couples who are unfaithful. Four boys already, and Agent Kincaid thinks that she’s been stalking us. But my affair with Grace has been going on longer—I never thought—God, I never thought—”

  Lucy said, “This is not your fault, Nina.” Her voice was sharper than she intended. “Neither of you are to blame. I can tell you more later, after we find her, but casting blame isn’t going to help.”

  Tony went to his wife and hugged her tightly. “Are you certain?” he asked over the head of his wife.

  “Yes.”

  Ken came into the office, Trevor Banks on his heels. “Kincaid, a minute.”

  Banks wasn’t happy. “Nina, have you been talking? I told you.”

  Ken shut the door on Banks and said quietly, “She’s not there.”

  “She bolted? Who tipped her off?”

  “Address is a mail drop. We need another warrant to get her mail and records to see if there’s a physical address associated with it, but that’s going to take time.”

  “Both Fieldstones are having affairs—but it seems they know, or sort of knew. We have to find her house.”

  “Ask them.”

  Lucy and Ken walked back into Nina’s office. Lucy asked, “Have you ever been to Danielle Sharpe’s house?”

  They all shook their heads.

  Nina said, “I can call her. She’ll recognize my number—she always picks up.”

  “No,” Banks said at the same time as Lucy said, “Good.”

  Lucy stared at the lawyer. “This woman may not seem like a threat, but she has the capacity for violence. She has killed four young boys and a babysitter. That we know about. Don’t ask me for proof, don’t ask me for evidence, that’s not your call. The AUSA issued a search warrant for her desk, her house, her
car. We have an arrest warrant. We are going to find her, and the more you delay and play around with legal bullshit, the greater chance she’ll disappear. If Mrs. Fieldstone is willing to help us, then dammit, let her!”

  Lucy stunned herself. She didn’t know what came over her, but she couldn’t backtrack now. She turned to Nina because Banks didn’t say a word, and said, “We need to trace the call—”

  Ken snapped his fingers. “Cell phone! We didn’t have her phone number until now, we can trace it without a call. Brilliant. Call, but I’ll also get the local office on it. One way or the other, we’ll get her.”

  He left the office.

  Lucy said to Nina, “Call her and ask how she is, and if she can at all come in to take care of something, or if you can bring work to her. Is there anything that only she can do?”

  “Noooo,” Nina said. “What if I tell her I want to bring her chicken soup?”

  “She put a false address on her employment records, she’s not going to let you visit her.” Lucy didn’t even think she was at home, but Lucy wanted her address because there was going to be evidence there that would help convict her. Lucy wanted to get it before she had a chance to destroy anything.

  House.

  “Hold on one second,” Lucy said and followed Ken out the door.

  She found him around the corner on his phone. He put the person on hold. “Have something?”

  “Electricity. Water. She has to have them in her name. Can we get those records?”

  “Absolutely. I’ll get the L.A. office working on it.”

  Lucy went back into Nina’s office. “Okay. Call her, ask her to come in. Is there something only she would know where it is? Or did she work on something that you can plausibly say got deleted? Misfiled? A client that only wants to work with her? It has to be believable, or she’ll catch on.”

  “She’s been preoccupied,” Nina said. “I had to call her on Thursday, after her doctor’s appointment, because she hadn’t filed a document properly.”

  “Use it. But don’t push too hard. I don’t want her to get suspicious.”

  Nina paused a minute, then dialed the number.

  She listened. “Voice mail,” she said.

  “Just ask her to call you back,” Lucy said.

  Nina nodded. “Hi, Danielle, it’s Nina. Can you give me a call when you get this message? I have a question about the Carroll file, and I can’t find the docs on your desk. It’s important—thanks.” She hung up. “Okay?”