“Yes, that one,” he said, taking the phone back and pointing to Olivia Laturna Repetto. “They were off to celebrate an anniversary right after the photos were taken. Going to the Caribbean or something like that.”
“Is this the man who was here?” Drew asked, handing Louis yet another image, on his phone this time.
“Yes, that’s him. Looks a little older in that picture, but that’s him. Do you think he brought the gun into my home? Why would he do something like that?” he asked.
Carly looked to Drew to take the lead, no doubt because he had more experience evading questions than she did. It was a somewhat dubious compliment.
“At this point, we’re not sure, Louis. We’re trying to find the origin of the gun and whether Mr. Repetto had anything to do with it or not. You’ve given us an idea of where to go next, so thank you.”
The man rocked back on his heels again and seemed to be debating whether to ask any more questions. In the end, he said nothing.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Charles,” Carly said.
“Louis,” he corrected.
She smiled. “Thank you for your time, Louis. We truly appreciate it.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Anytime. Anything I can do to help.”
Drew and Damian also thanked him and the three of them took their leave.
Once they were all buckled into the SUV and he was steering it into traffic, Damian asked, “Want to tell me what that was about?”
Drew glanced back at Carly, planning to take her lead on just how much she wanted to share.
She was looking out the window, but he didn’t miss the smile that was spreading across her face. “We’re closing in, Damian. We’re going to be able to bring my mother’s killer to justice.”
• • •
Carly had drifted off to sleep hours earlier, but Drew sat, quiet and alone, at his computer in his DC apartment. Occasionally, his eyes would stray to the river that swept past his building. In the cool October darkness, the lights that lined the river walk reflected crisp colors on the still water and leafless tree branches swayed in a gentle breeze. But despite the beauty of the hour, his eyes stayed mostly fixed on his computer screen.
Marcus had returned from Florida with a treasure trove of information embedded in the tiny chip Seraphina had been carrying around for close to fifteen years. Naomi and Brian had done a preliminary scan of the data and it was clear from the material they were gathering that Joe hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d described Sophia Davidson as organized. She’d created spreadsheets documenting each of Repetto’s visits—noting the day and, in some cases, length of each visit. She must have made her brother sit down and go through it all with her as well, because beside each entry she’d included a summary of the conversation between Repetto and Tony. The summaries included notes as to whether the information that had changed hands was information Tony had passed on to Repetto or if it had been information Repetto had asked Tony to pass on to others. And in the latter case, she’d noted to whom Tony had passed the information.
And, of the four times Repetto had asked Tony to pass on a “rumor,” Sophia had noted that, not long after he’d done so, at least two of those people had lost a significant amount of money. Of course, neither investor had ever come forward with a formal complaint about the rumor, as they would have incriminated themselves for insider trading, but, having been friends with those investors, Sophia had known of the losses, if not the exact extent of them.
Naomi and Brian were looking into these particular “rumors” and the fallout from them, as well as the flow of information that went the other way, from Tony to Repetto, and, no doubt, linking it to stock trades Repetto made soon thereafter. Not having insight into what Repetto would have invested or gained, Sophia had not been able to provide a direct link between what her brother had told the agent and what Repetto had used. But the information she had provided allowed Brian and Naomi, who had full access to Repetto’s accounts at this point, to make those connections.
The twins were sending Drew bits and pieces of data in real time and he was culling through it to make his own set of files. He planned to take a risk the next day that no one knew about and no one would approve of. But he hadn’t worked at the CIA for nearly two decades without picking up a few tidbits about human nature and the impact of good intelligence—good intelligence could often be, and often was, more persuasive than any other form of communication.
Adding the most recent piece of data Naomi had sent to the open file on his computer, he heard Carly shifting in his bed. They’d come back to his apartment after visiting Louis Charles, sent some e-mails to update everyone on what they’d learned, and then gone to dinner. A couple of glasses of wine with the heavy Italian meal had been enough to soothe her adrenaline, and at around ten o’clock she’d started to drift off. Once she’d been sleeping soundly for a bit, he’d slid from the sheets and made his way to his computer. Where he’d sat for the last four hours.
Again, he heard her shift. After taking a look at the latest file Naomi had sent, Drew saved everything to a thumb drive then shut down his computer. For a number of reasons, he didn’t want Carly to wake up and find him missing from the bed. Not only did he not want her asking too many questions about what he’d been doing, but he didn’t want her waking up alone either. So, after placing the drive next to his wallet on the dresser, he slid back into bed beside her.
Watching her profile in the ambient light of the city, he hoped she was emotionally ready for the day to come. Vivi and Damian had obtained an arrest warrant for Vince Repetto just moments earlier, something he’d tell Carly when she awoke in the morning. Between finally being able to question Repetto and the evidence everyone else was tying up, including documenting the movement of the gun, taking statements from other people Repetto had used in his schemes, and tracking Repetto’s finances, he expected to have the situation all cleaned up, all neat and tidy, within the next thirty-six hours—a blink of an eye compared to the near fifteen years both Marcus and Carly had been waiting.
“Drew?” her voice, heavy with sleep echoed in his room.
Rather than answer and wake her more, he gently pulled her against him. She rolled over, slid an arm across his chest, and nestled her head against his shoulder. A few minutes later, he felt her breath even out as it whispered across his skin. He just hoped that the following night she’d feel as at peace.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Carly watched as Drew slid a thumb drive across a table toward a man who looked to be about her age. He also looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place him.
“My contact information is on this drive, once you’ve had a look,” was all Drew said.
She could tell from the flash of guilt that came into Drew’s expression when he saw her standing there that he hadn’t wanted her to witness the exchange. She glanced down at the man at the table, who’d turned his attention back to his book, then she looked back at Drew.
“Everything okay?” he asked, obviously wondering why she’d returned from the restroom so quickly.
She thought about pressing him, asking what he’d given to the man, but she didn’t want to put him in an awkward position. He’d been spending most of his time with her, on her case, but he still worked for the agency and she thought it was entirely possible that what she’d just seen was agency business.
“Everything is fine,” she said. “I need a key to get into the restroom.”
Saying nothing about what she’d just seen, he motioned her toward the counter of the busy coffee shop where he’d suggested they stop on their way to meet Vivi, Wyatt, and Joe.
The three agents were flying in that morning to meet Damian and the small FBI team Damian had put together to execute the arrest warrant on Vince Repetto—something she could hardly believe was really happening. She hadn’t wanted to delay, hadn’t wanted to stop, but Drew had convinced her by reminding her that getting to the airport early to meet Vivi and the others woul
dn’t actually make them arrive any earlier. So they’d stopped.
When she came back from the restroom a few minutes later, he gestured to the line and said, “Latte?”
“Yes, please.”
“And maybe a croissant?”
She pursed her lips, but nodded. He had been trying to feed her since they’d risen from bed ninety minutes earlier. But after he’d told her about the warrant, eating breakfast had fallen off her list of priorities for the morning. She didn’t think she’d be able to stomach even the simple pastry, but saying “yes” was easier than saying “no.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were again headed to the airport. Ten minutes after that, her three friends were stepping through the airport doors, each giving her a hug before climbing into the SUV. Vivi was the last in and she lingered for a moment, her eyes searching Carly’s. She was grateful for Vivi’s concern, but she wanted nothing more than to get on with the day.
As if sensing her desire, Vivi gave her a small smile and asked, “Are we ready to get this show on the road?”
Carly’s stomach fluttered and she gave Vivi a nervous smile in return.
“Then let’s get to it,” Vivi said.
When they were all seated in the large SUV, Damian placed a call to the team he’d had put in place as soon as the warrant had come through, confirming that Repetto was still at home. Carly had thought it would have been fitting to arrest him in his place of work—a job he’d abused so horribly—but in the end, she’d been convinced that quickly and quietly was the best option.
The morning traffic made the relatively short distance to Repetto’s home feel interminable—she felt like she could have walked there faster. Of course, walking herself there faster wouldn’t have done any good. Neither she nor Drew had any jurisdiction over the arrest. She wouldn’t be able to do anything but watch unless, or until, the FBI gave her permission to do otherwise.
Beside her, Vivi reached over and gave her hand a squeeze as they made their way north. Idly, Carly wondered about Repetto’s wife and how her husband’s arrest would affect her—his arrest for not just a slew of financial crimes, but murder as well.
Deep in the files Naomi and Brian had found on the chip from Seraphina, Sophia had included information about a security company that backed up all the CCTV cameras they’d had on the barn—a company Repetto had known nothing about.
Repetto had, of course, viewed the footage from the night of the murder provided by the primary security company, a company that only stored data for seven days. He’d reported that the house hadn’t been visible, only the barn, and as a result, the FBI hadn’t taken any footage into custody. He’d been wrong though. About two things.
Most of the footage had been of the barn, but there had been a single camera angled in such a way as to see the parking area near the house. The second mistake Repetto had made was in assuming Sophia Davidson had not arranged for a separate company to take and store all the CCTV footage beyond the seven days provided by the primary provider.
No doubt, Sophia had originally intended to use the video to back-up her assertions regarding the dates Repetto had visited. But inadvertently, she’d also provided them with what they needed to prove Repetto had visited Sophia and Tony on the night they’d been killed, and within the window the coroner had ruled as their times of death.
Both the evidence of his arrival at the Lamot/Davidson house and the way they’d been able to track the gun, though that was admittedly circumstantial, had been enough to persuade a judge to include murder charges in the arrest warrant.
“You okay?” Vivi asked as the SUV came to a stop in front of an elegant home in Chevy Chase, a wealthy suburb of DC.
Carly felt her heart constrict as she glanced over at her friend. She had never seen Vivi wearing either an FBI jacket or a bulletproof vest, and the sight made her smile a bit. No one was anticipating any problems, but it was good to be prepared. Ian would have approved.
“Yes, or rather, I will be once he’s in custody,” Carly answered with a glance toward Joe.
They’d jointly decided that Joe would be the one to make the arrest. Vivi, Damian, Wyatt, and the two agents who’d been watching Repetto, would be backup.
Vivi studied her for a moment. “Then I guess we better get to it. Damian?”
“My two guys are waiting for our signal,” he answered.
“Then let’s give it,” Vivi commanded.
In unison, Joe, Wyatt, Vivi, Damian, and the other two agents exited their cars and made their way to the front door. The two agents she didn’t know circled around the back, but the rest, led by Joe, knocked on the dark wood door.
Carly saw a woman appear and, even from where she sat, she recognized Vince Repetto’s wife, already dressed and made up for the day. She didn’t work, so Carly wondered where she might be going, but the thought slid from her mind as the woman, clearly confused, opened the door and let the four agents in.
“How are you, really?” Drew asked from the front seat with his head turned back to look at her.
She tore her attention from the front door to meet his steady gaze. “I’m glad we were able to include the murder charges.”
Emotion flashed in his eyes and she knew he didn’t like the fact she’d even had to say those words.
“Me too,” he said quietly.
A beat passed then she let out a long exhale, preparing herself for his response to what she was about to say. “Drew, we got lucky with the video evidence that had Repetto’s car on it. Maybe we should see if luck is still on our side.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, maybe we should keep looking to see if there was someone else involved,” she said, then held her breath, waiting for his answer. The look on his face shifted and she hated what she saw there. Pity, definitely, but maybe a little frustration too. She looked away, forcing herself to breathe. “Look, we know he involved someone else when he confronted Marguerite, why not when he killed my mother? You know as well as I do that having someone else involved is the only way to make sense of some of his actions.”
“Carly,” he said after a beat, his voice soft in the car.
She kept her eyes trained on the front door of the house.
After a few moments, he let out a long breath. “Look, if there was someone else involved, everyone will do their best to find that person. Joe and Vivi and the rest of the team will interrogate Repetto today and then take what he says and run it through their systems. If there is anything there, you know they, or Brian and Naomi, will find it.”
When he said nothing more, she turned back toward him, his blue eyes still steady on hers.
“I don’t know what they will find,” he spoke again. “I honestly don’t. But if you’re asking if I think there was someone else involved in what he did to your mother? Then, yes, I agree with you, there probably was. But was it criminal? I don’t know. And Carly, it’s possible we will never know.”
She studied the painful honesty in his eyes. He didn’t like telling her that she may never get all the answers she wanted. And she liked hearing it even less, even though she needed to. Because she knew, but hadn’t admitted to herself, that unless Repetto told them himself, or they found some evidence of a partner, they—she—might never know the entire truth. And, somehow, she’d have to learn to live with that.
She sighed and rubbed her temples. He reached out and took one of her hands in his. She started to thank him for everything he’d done, but then Joe came walking out of the house guiding a hand-cuffed Repetto ahead of him and her breath caught in her throat. She watched Vivi, Wyatt, and Damian follow Joe out onto the porch as the other two agents came around from the back of the house.
Vince Repetto looked remarkably similar to the man she’d known as Vince Archstone nearly fifteen years earlier—time had been kind to him. He was still trim and cut a figure in his suit. And, even with his hands cuffed, he looked like a man who knew power.
Joe led Repetto toward the other FBI car
and opened the rear door. Repetto paused before sliding in and his eyes went to the front door of his home. Carly’s gaze tracked his and there she saw his wife accompanied by her father, Senator Laturna, who must have joined the couple for breakfast.
Olivia Laturna Repetto stood there in her designer dress with one arm wrapped around her petite waist, her other hand covering her mouth. On both her wrists, gold and diamond bangles glistened in the morning sun, their glamour at odds with the look of confusion and shock she wore on her face as she watched her husband being led away.
Beside his daughter, Buzz Laturna stood firm, his body straight and strong, with one arm draped over her shoulder and his unblinking gaze set on the unfolding situation.
Carly wondered what the woman’s father might be thinking—was he proud of his son-in-law, believing this to be a mistake, or had he thought his daughter had married beneath her and the situation was finally proving him right? Senator Laturna gave no indication of his feelings and as soon as the car door closed on Repetto, he ushered his daughter back inside the house, no doubt to call a high-priced attorney.
Vivi, Wyatt, and Damian stood by as Joe and the two nameless agents pulled their car, with Repetto in the backseat, onto the street, then made their way back to the SUV. Vivi gave Carly’s hand another squeeze when she and Wyatt climbed into the backseat.
They spoke little on the ride to the FBI office and Carly appreciated the few moments of quiet they gave her—moments to prepare for what would come next, for what she would or wouldn’t hear during the interrogation they’d agreed to let her listen in on.
Before she realized where they were, Damian pulled into the garage under the J. Edgar Hoover building. They hadn’t wanted to alert Repetto to her involvement, so rather than risk a chance hallway meeting, she’d agreed to wait in the car until he was situated in an interview room. What felt like an eon, but was probably no more than ten minutes, passed before Damian received the call clearing them to go up.
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