“He didn’t see her leaving the apartment, but she passed him in the hall from the direction of the apartment.”
“Did you coach him?”
Patrick started to close the door.
“Dammit, this is fucking a mess, Kincaid! I have a cop killer on the loose and the FBI arrested my witness!”
“The escape is not your case,” Patrick said. “And Sean Rogan is not a cop killer. Your rhetoric is going to get him killed. You don’t want the truth. You have a fucking theory you want to prove.”
“I want justice.”
“So do we.”
Megan came out of her room, her hair damp, but she was dressed. “What is all this yelling?” She straightened when she saw Banner. “Detective.”
Banner ignored her. “Do you realize that withholding information in a police investigation can get you tossed in prison?”
“I’m not withholding information. I told Ned that a detective may come and speak to him as they continue to investigate Mona Hill’s murder. It’s not my responsibility to do your job for you.”
“Yet you think your friend is innocent.”
“My partner. My brother-in-law. And he is. And the fact that you bought into this so quickly tells me either you’re corrupt or an idiot.”
Lucy stepped forward. “Patrick, stop.”
“If you know where the escaped prisoners are, you have an obligation to notify authorities.”
“I don’t know where Sean is, and if I did, I would notify the authorities, but sure as hell not you because I don’t trust you won’t shoot first, ask questions later. Maybe you should read Kate Donovan’s reports on this, because she’s been copying in your office from the beginning.”
Banner looked confused. Then he said, “Take my advice and back off.”
“Good-bye.” Patrick closed the door.
“What was that?” Megan said.
“He’s a prick. And if he hasn’t read Kate’s reports that’s on him.”
Kate had been sending frequent reports as she confirmed facts. She confirmed that the phone found in Sean’s cell was not used to change the transfer orders. She located the exact terminal where the transfer orders were changed, and had proven that Sheffield had used the terminal at the time the orders were changed. They had Erica Anderson’s statement that she had been working for the Hunt family for the last three months but when she heard a cop was killed during the prison break, she wanted to come forward—but feared for her life and the life of her children. And Kate had sent Erica’s statement to Houston that she planted the gun in Sean’s plane. And yet here they were, still thinking that Sean was guilty.
Sheffield hadn’t spoken since asking for his lawyer, but that wouldn’t last long, and Anderson was already on record. All that information Kate had shared with every law enforcement agency investigating either Mona Hill’s murder or the prison break. She wanted to make sure that the authorities knew that Sean was a victim, not a perpetrator.
All this was great news, but it still didn’t help them find Sean.
“Where is Kate?” Lucy asked.
“Houston headquarters. She slipped out early this morning—she’s calling now.” Megan answered. “Kate, you’re on speaker with me, Lucy, and Patrick.”
“I might have found Paxton.”
“Where?”
“Jack and Kane made friends with Hunt’s mistress. She shared all her financial records with them. Including recent payments. He was paid $150,000 last summer, then $150,000 three weeks ago—the day after Elise Hunt was released from juvie. Portia said that Elise took all the second payment for what she called ‘Operation Payback.’ Hunt was supposed to collect the final payment yesterday after the escape, but no money has been wired.”
“How does that help us find them?” Lucy asked.
“The money came from a shell corp. It took me and the two best people in the white-collar crime unit a couple of hours to trace it. It’s the parent company of the shell corp that paid Michael Thompson.”
“You connected Paxton to Thompson? On paper?”
“No, because I don’t have a connection between these shell corps and Paxton, but we connected one of them to Colton Thayer and found property in the corporation’s name in Montgomery, Texas.”
“That’s less than an hour away,” Lucy said.
“Rick thinks it’s actionable, we’re putting together an FBI SWAT and hostage rescue team right now. We’re not informing Houston PD. They have been riding our ass about Sheffield, and we’re not budging. Rick and I both think someone will get trigger-happy. They are looking for two escaped convicts. We know Sean’s innocent but it still looks bad right now.”
“What about the tape from the bus?” Lucy asked. Someone had shot out the cameras on the bus, but techs were working on salvaging the tapes.
“We’re working on it. I don’t want to get your hopes up, not until I know whether we have the potential to retrieve the data or not. It’s seriously damaged. I’m going to go back and take another run at Sheffield, he might know more than he’s said.”
“I need to be part of the raid,” Lucy said.
“No.”
“If Jonathan Paxton is there, I’m the only one who can talk to him. You heard Dillon last night. Jonathan thinks of me as his daughter. He framed Sean because he thinks Sean is bad for me. Everything he did, he did because of me. I don’t want anyone else to die. There’s been too much bloodshed, both the guilty and the innocent.”
“Don’t let them know I told you that they’re staging at headquarters right now and ETA to leave is twenty-two minutes.”
Patrick said, “Go, Lucy.” He looked at Megan.
“I got her,” Megan said and followed Lucy out.
* * *
It was Rick Stockton who gave the okay for Lucy to join the team. Her phone rang as soon as they started toward Montgomery.
“Kincaid,” she answered.
“It’s Stockton. Don’t make me regret this. Not only is your job on the line, but mine as well.”
She swallowed heavily. “I—I truly appreciate this.”
“I sensed you think that I believed Sean was guilty. I never did. Sean drives me crazy sometimes, but he’s one of the best men I know, and I am destroyed that he’s gone through this. I helped negotiate the pleas for Paxton and Thayer to keep them out of prison. Paxton because he would have really screwed the FBI and a multitude of cases, it would have been a fucking nightmare with all the legalities, lawsuits from families of the sex offenders, and more. And Thayer, because of Sean. He pleaded with me to find a way to give him probation or time served. I know that Sean felt guilty for infiltrating Thayer’s organization, his past friendship, everything they’d been through together—all that played into it. I shouldn’t have done it, I was wrong. I might have lost Sean’s respect and friendship, but Thayer should have gone to prison. I made a mistake.”
“No, Rick, you did the right thing. You were between a rock and a hard place with Paxton because of who he was and what he’d done … and Thayer did the wrong thing for the right reason. They both could have started fresh, done something good with their lives; instead, Paxton used Thayer to fulfill his vendetta against Sean.”
“I talked to Dillon and while I know you and your brother believe that Paxton won’t harm you, don’t go in thinking you’re bulletproof. He’s working with Jimmy Hunt, which tells me he’s a changed man. The Jonathan Paxton I knew would have killed Hunt before he worked with him.”
“Or,” Lucy said, “used him before he killed him.”
* * *
After ending the call with Rick, Lucy spent the rest of the drive convincing the lead agent, SSA Steven Pierce, to let her go in alone.
The only reason he finally—reluctantly—agreed was because he didn’t want bodies to drop. No one in the FBI wanted another Waco or Ruby Ridge. They wanted a peaceful resolution without an armed standoff, especially when they didn’t know how many hostiles or hostages were on site.
&n
bsp; And thank God they considered Sean a hostage, not a hostile. That was because of Rick, Lucy was positive, because Sean’s name hadn’t been cleared by Houston PD.
“He’s going to know we’re out here,” Pierce said.
“Yes. I’m going to tell him, but he’ll know as soon as he sees me. I’m going to explain to him that the only way this ends is with him surrendering.”
“You think that will work?”
“It’s the only way it’ll work. If we storm in, we put Sean in jeopardy.”
“You need to be wired and wear a vest.”
“Agreed.”
“If I think it’s going south, we’re coming in hot.”
“I understand.” She hoped it didn’t come to that. “I’m going to try to get Jonathan to tell me where Sean is—you might be able to rescue him while I keep Jonathan occupied.”
“We’re working on disabling the cameras, but if they have someone monitoring the feeds they’re going to notice a change, even if we loop it. When we get them down, we’ll move into a closer position.”
Lucy took a deep breath. This was it. She couldn’t screw up.
* * *
Jonathan Paxton watched as Elise ate a full brunch as if she’d missed a week of meals.
He didn’t want to kill her. When she showed up early this morning, Colton wanted to turn her away, but Jonathan didn’t trust her. She hated Lucy; he wanted to know why.
Sadly, if she was a threat to Lucy, she would have to die. But he couldn’t help but see her as a young girl, raised by brutes, abused, unschooled in proper behavior.
He wasn’t ignorant of her crimes. He’d read her files—all of them. He’d read Lucy’s testimony against her. But he wondered if Lucy herself was a tad biased against Elise because of who her family was. That, perhaps, Elise was a victim who only did what she had to do to survive.
Lucy, of all people, should understand that.
“Wow, Senator, that was delicious,” she said.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He sipped his coffee. He’d eaten long ago.
“So, my dad.”
“He left for Mexico last night.”
“Really? When? Because when Travis called me he said he was supposed to bring them.”
“Late.” He’d found out about Travis’s call to Elise after the fact. The men loyal to Hunt were no longer a problem. “If I recall, your father instructed you to meet him there.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t do everything he says. And I don’t like his girlfriend.”
“You had an unusual childhood.”
“You’re telling me. My aunt Margaret was crazy. She liked me, though I don’t know why, considering her sister screwed my dad and got me out of it. But she was like, you’re the daughter I never had, blah blah. And my mom was just … a wacko. I don’t think there was a day she wasn’t high.”
“You’ve done some bad things.”
She shrugged. “You do what you need to do, right?” She picked at crumbs on her plate and looked at him. “I should probably go now. If my dad isn’t here, I’ll catch up with him across the border.”
“You can stay for a while if you like.”
She snorted. “Not. I mean, you’re nice and all, and this place is fucking amazing, but I should probably disappear for a while.”
“Did you do something for which you need to disappear?”
“Sort of. Sometimes I really hate it when my dad’s right.”
“Dads usually know what’s best.”
“Not always. But this time, I should have listened to him. I wonder if I’ll ever figure out when his advice is bad or on target.”
Jimmy Hunt wouldn’t be giving anyone any advice again.
“Your father’s plans for the Rogans. Did something happen?”
“Well, I know they got Kane. He killed my brother. I miss Toby. I kind of screwed up with Agent Donnelly. He killed my sister. I liked her, she was smart. That’s kinda why I have to disappear for a while.”
“They saw you.”
“Well, yeah. But I always have a backup plan.”
“Smart. Your father wasn’t happy when I took Sean off his target list.”
“I don’t care. Dad said you wanted to take care of him yourself, fine by me. He didn’t kill anyone I care about, and he’s really smart. Totally fooled my sister and everyone. I kinda think that’s cool.”
“And Lucy Kincaid. You know she’s off-limits.”
“Yeah, of course. But why?” she asked bluntly.
He admired that directness. “I have history.”
“You screwing her?”
He bristled, forced himself to remain calm at the disgusting image Elise put in his head. “No. I’d like to know why you don’t like her.”
“She can read my mind. It freaks me out.”
“She reads your mind?”
“Yeah. Like a psychic. She knows exactly what I’m thinking. And, like, how I think. She got me all twisted up when she interviewed me and I didn’t know what I was saying. Because she, like, had it all down already.” She frowned. “I’m not making any sense.”
“I think I understand you.”
He remembered her conversation with her father. Would she go after Lucy when she realized her father was dead? Could he risk it?
Elise Hunt wasn’t a good kid, but she was practically a child. He didn’t want to kill her.
“If you’d like to stay, you can. Even just for tonight.” That would give him some time to ponder the situation. “I might have a job for you.”
“Really?” she perked up. Then she shook her head. “I appreciate it and all, but I need to go.”
“Of course.” He didn’t have much time to make his decision.
“But can I have a favor?”
“What do you need?”
“I don’t know how hot my car is, and I’m really low on cash. When I was low on cash before my brother told me to just sell my body, but I don’t really want to do that anymore if I don’t have to.”
Jonathan saw red. “You do not have to ever sell your body.”
“I don’t need a lot. My dad got paid, he’ll take care of me once I get there.”
Colton walked into the doorway, worried. He motioned for Jonathan.
“Excuse me,” he said to Elise. “I’ll see what I can do about a vehicle and spending money.”
He left the room with Colton. Colton said quietly, “Lucy Kincaid is at the main gate.”
“Alone?”
“I don’t see anyone, but I told Team Alpha to broaden the perimeter and check for mercenaries. If she came in with RCK she might be a diversion.”
“No. She came with the FBI.”
“How do you know?”
He knew because he knew Lucy. “I need you to leave. You know how to go. You have been the son I never had, I do not want you hurt by what’s about to happen.”
“I’m not leaving you, Jonathan. We can get out of this.”
“There’s a chance they are bluffing, a good chance. I will know when I talk to her. But I’m not going to risk you.”
“What about her?” he nodded toward the dining room.
“Give her a car and a thousand dollars. If she can elude the FBI, she’ll make it to Mexico. If not, it’s not my problem.”
* * *
The gate opened ten minutes after she stood there, making sure the camera could see her. Lucy walked in. No one was around. As soon as she stepped through, the gate closed, the click of an electronic lock sealing her in.
She wasn’t truly trapped. This was a vast estate and there were ways to get out—the rear boundary was trees and a seasonal creek—and the fencing was scalable in places.
“I’m through the gate,” she said. “I don’t see anyone, but I feel someone watching. Okay, now I see him, an armed man to my right standing between two trees. He’s not making a move toward me.”
She continued walking down a long gravel drive. The house came into view, a beautiful estate, far too big for on
e person. Even her entire family—parents and six brothers and sisters—would find the house spacious.
It took her ten minutes to reach the porch, and she didn’t see anyone else until she started up the stairs and spotted two men, one on each side of the porch, standing sentry. They ignored her.
An older woman, impeccably dressed, opened the door before Lucy knocked. “The senator is expecting you,” she said.
Lucy entered; the woman closed the door behind her.
She looked around her surroundings. The entry was large, with a sweeping staircase. A grand room to the left seemed to be a sitting room with one wall of bookshelves; the room to the right an even grander living room, everything decorated in traditional American. It was a comfortable house, even with the vast spaces.
But she stared at the fireplace in the living room.
And the painting above it.
She froze.
That’s me.
“The senator lost his daughter thirty years ago,” the housekeeper said. “She was lovely.”
Yes, it was Monique, but it was also Lucy. Lucy had seen pictures of Monique, but not this one—she wondered if Jonathan had commissioned it based on both her and Monique’s photos. Monique died when she was seventeen, this was Monique … older. It was the eyes … Monique’s eyes were more catlike and a lighter brown than Lucy’s. They had almost identical wavy long black hair and the same general build, similar cheekbones, and proportions, and Monique’s paler skin was reflected in the painting. But Lucy’s eyes were dark brown and rounder, and those were the eyes that stared back at her.
That was the moment Lucy realized the depth of Jonathan Paxton’s obsession with her.
“Agent Kincaid,” the woman said. “This way, please.”
Lucy followed the woman past the grand staircase and to the left. The hall was wide; to the left were windows that looked out on a courtyard. At the end of the hall, double doors led to a library.
It was one of the most beautiful rooms she had ever seen.
And standing there in the middle of the room, in front of a large wood desk, was the former senator.
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