“No, of course not.”
You said that too fast, Alex.
He came around his desk, shook her hand. “I hope you’re feeling better after last night.”
“Yes, I am.”
“You never told me what you thought of Pamela.”
Mia said honestly, “I found her very impressive, Alex. She’s smart, committed to your future and hers with you. I’d say she could be relentless in getting what she wants. I agree with you, the two of you fit hand in glove. You’ll make an impressive team. Let me add she looks excellent in black Armani. Thank you for giving me some of your precious time. I’m sure we’ll speak again. Soon.”
She walked to the office door, turned, and smiled at him. “It was a pleasure speaking with some of the people who influenced your life, Alex. You can look for my first article sometime next week.”
“Of course. I’ll look forward to it, Mia.”
When she closed the door behind her, she saw he was standing tall behind his desk, the committed leader in rolled-up sleeves, looking every bit the workingman’s champion.
Sherlock was waiting for her in a small café near the campaign headquarters. Mia slid into the booth across from her, gave her a fist bump. “He’s first-rate at cat and mouse, Sherlock, played the game like a pro. Hardly any tells, but I saw them.”
Sherlock fist-bumped her back. “It sounds like you hit exactly the right note.” She pointed down at a steaming mug. “Tea, Dillon’s favorite, plain. Drink it, Mia, it’ll warm you up.”
Mia poured in milk and added two fake sugars, clicked her mug to Sherlock’s.
Sherlock said, “Tommy called a few minutes ago. I told you he’d tracked down the cars registered to Alex Harrington and Kent Harper seven years ago—a red Jaguar XJ12 and a BMW 330i, and their license plates. He called Creighton’s police chief, asked him to look again at the photos they’d collected from students’ cell phones at the rave. Great piece of luck—turns out we’ve got a red Jaguar with a visible out-of-state license plate. It belonged to Harrington. A big nail, Mia, a very big nail.”
“That’s amazing—but, it’s not enough, is it?”
Sherlock took Mia’s hand in hers and squeezed. “No, but it is the first big nail. It puts them at the rave. It means we’re on our way. Everything’s going to move fast now.” Sherlock’s cell belted out Post Malone’s “Into the Spider-Verse.” She listened, tapped off, gave Mia a big smile. “Good timing, she’s on her way. We’ll meet her there.”
39
Mia and Juliet
Harper Building at 320 Madison Avenue
Harper Strategic Services
New York
Thursday, late afternoon
When the express elevator door opened directly onto the executive offices on the forty-fifth floor, they saw Mrs. Wallaby, Kent Harper’s administrative assistant, pulling a brocade handbag out of a drawer. Mia walked forward. “Thank you so much for waiting for us, Mrs. Wallaby.”
Mrs. Wallaby smiled at Mia, looked beyond her. “Three of you? Well, I did tell Mr. Harper you, Ms. Briscoe, would be coming by. Poor young man, he’s up to his neck in contract negotiations. I hope you have some pleasant news to make him smile.”
“I don’t know about that, but I’ll certainly try to make him forget the contracts.”
Mrs. Wallaby’s eyes locked on Sherlock. “Goodness me, you’re Agent Sherlock.” And she hurried around her desk, thrust out her hand. Sherlock obligingly shook it.
“Such a pleasure to meet you. Kent will be so pleased to meet you as well, and to see you again, Ms. Briscoe. He never says much, but he was smiling the rest of the day after you left. I have to say, though, he hasn’t quite been himself today. I suppose it’s the stress of work. I’m sure the three of you will make him feel better.”
Mia said, “Isn’t business good?”
Mrs. Wallaby gave a discreet cough. “No, of course business is splendid. I shouldn’t have said anything. But I think he could use a pleasant surprise. Would you like me to tell him you’ve brought Agent Sherlock?”
“Please don’t bother. We’ll surprise him.”
Mrs. Wallaby nodded, pulled her coat from the rack behind her desk. “Well, three pretty young women, he’ll think he’s in one of his video games.” The phone on her desk beeped and she picked it up, listened. She winked at Mia as she said, “Yes, sir, I’m on my way. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Once the elevator door closed on Mrs. Wallaby, Sherlock sat down in a visitor’s chair. “That worked out well. Good luck, Juliet, and thank you for coming. What you’re about to do, it takes guts. Don’t think we don’t know that.”
Juliet sucked in a deep breath. “I won’t lie, this is scary, seeing Kent again—but it will be worth it. And it’s time I stepped up to the plate.”
Mia and Juliet walked the short gray-carpeted hallway with the old photos of New York City on the walls. “You okay?”
Juliet’s beautiful face looked fierce. “Yes.” She paused. “Like I told you and Sherlock in the lobby, I might not have come, hard to say now, but Sherlock’s call talked me into it. I’ll admit, Mia, I wanted to shoot you for telling her, an FBI agent. But you know what she said to me? ‘Imagine lying in an unmarked grave, no one knows where you are or what happened to you. Imagine what your parents feel, their child, gone with no idea where or why, think about what they’d live with the rest of their lives.’” Juliet paused, swallowed. “I thought of my mom and dad, and I knew if I simply disappeared, no word, no trace, it would kill them.”
Mia laid her hand on Juliet’s arm. “What Sherlock said is true. You can’t know how much I admire you. You ready?”
Juliet took a deep breath, nodded. “Let’s do it.”
Mia tapped on Kent’s door as she opened it. He was standing in the middle of the office, holding a gilded medieval sword over his head, ready to bring it down. He jerked when he saw Mia in the doorway. He slowly lowered the sword, gave her an embarrassed smile. “It’s been a hard day. I’ve found exercising with this sword de-stresses me. What a great surprise.”
But it was anything but great. So he’d spoken to Alex, and now she was the enemy. Then Kent saw Juliet and froze, a look of horror on his face until he smoothed it out. He said, “Juliet, ah, I don’t understand. Why are you here in New York? Do you have a performance at Carnegie I didn’t hear about? Why are you with Mia?”
“Hello, Kent,” Juliet said. “No, I’m not here to perform. It’s been a long time. You’re looking well.” She waved her hand at the walls. “You’re still playing with your sword. And I see you’re still surrounded by your gaming toys.”
“They’re bloody collectibles, worth a mint!”
Mia shook her head at him and said, her voice filled with censure and disappointment, just like Mrs. Marvin, one of her third-grade teachers, “Sure they are, Kent. The sword, everything in here—in a grown man’s power office—is make-believe, a teenage boy’s fantasy. Aren’t you a little old to be slashing around that ridiculous sword?”
Kent slowly laid the sword against his desk, to give himself time to think. When he finally looked at Juliet, he said, “Why are you here?”
“I’m here, Kent, to right past wrongs.”
“What past wrongs? What is going on here? Mia?”
Mia gave him a blazing smile. “I’m Juliet’s backup.”
“Backup for what?”
But he knew, Mia saw it in his eyes. He was afraid.
Juliet said in a clear, steady voice, “Mia knows you and Alex roofied and raped me two years ago, both of you. I believe I know why Alex raped me. He was furious when I told him I wouldn’t be a politician’s wife, that I didn’t want to spend my life being in a fishbowl with him, the brunt of the daily comments and conjecture.
“But you, Kent—why did you rape me? I thought you liked me, maybe even respected me. And here I was your best friend’s fiancée. But I guess I was wrong. To be honest, I always wondered why you were always hanging around, like you were tet
hered to Alex’s side. Did Alex invite you to have at it, to humiliate me, and you simply did as he told you, like always? Did you enjoy it, Kent? Did you enjoy raping me?”
Kent stood still, tall and stiff, then sat down at his desk, clasped his hands in front of him on the desktop. When he looked up at them, he looked bewildered, hurt, and confused. It was well done. He said in a stern patriarchal voice, exactly like his father’s, if he’d only known, “Juliet, I don’t understand what you’re talking about. That’s all nonsense, and you know it. The breakup with Alex . . . well, you know the two of you were like oil and water, not meant for each other. Everyone knew it.
“Of course I liked you, admired you. Alex used to tell me he pictured the children he’d sire with you, all of them smart, talented, but with his backbone, his guts. He said he knew he’d have to toughen them up because you were so sensitive and, well, unwilling to disagree with anyone. He insisted he didn’t care you weren’t interested in politics, he told me you were so beautiful he’d be content to simply sit and look at you. He loved you, Juliet, and you broke his heart.”
Juliet spurted out a laugh. “Now that’s rich, Kent. As far as I can tell, Alex has only ever loved one person—himself. Well, maybe you think he loves you, too, so long as you keep to your place and be a good dog. But you know what? It’s easy for me to see him kicking you to the curb if he doesn’t need you anymore. Have you ever thought about that? Have you ever wondered what Alex really thinks of you? If you’re really nothing more than a doorknob to him? His little shadow who does whatever he tells you to?”
Kent sighed, a reasonable man striving to be patient, difficult with a gamer’s sword propped against his impressive desk. “Are you saying these things because Mia wants to write an exposé, make a name for herself? And she picked Alex’s career to destroy?
“Juliet, listen to me. You know none of this is true. Alex and I are best friends, have been since we were kids. There’s no big man and his shadow, that’s absurd. Yes, Alex did tell me you actually accused him of raping you and he was floored, deeply hurt. He didn’t understand why you would make such a horrible accusation. I wanted to talk to you myself, try to find out where all that was coming from, but Alex told me to stay away. He didn’t think there was any way of talking you out of this crazy idea we’d both raped you.
“I did not rape you, Juliet. If Alex did rape you, which I don’t believe for a minute, then he did it alone. I don’t know why you’ve brought me into this.” He looked at Mia. “You did this, didn’t you? It’s true, isn’t it, you want to ruin Alex and me, as well. Juliet, you can’t believe a word she says. Believe me, I know nothing about what happened two years ago.”
Juliet didn’t answer him. “Mia, he hasn’t even asked us to sit down, hasn’t offered to hang up our coats.” She turned and helped Mia off with her coat, laid it and her own on the backs of the two chairs in front of his desk.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Mia said as they seated themselves, made themselves comfortable.
“I do mind. I’ve had enough of this. I want you both to leave.”
Juliet looked at him and slowly began to applaud.
“Stop it!”
She did, nodded, and said in approval, “What you said, Kent, it was well done. A lawyer couldn’t have been more fluent, more convincing. If I didn’t have my own personal firsthand experience with what a pervert you are, I might have been fooled. Being in charge of the New York office has toughened you up. Has it made you tough enough to maybe even disagree with Alex once in a while?”
Kent turned on Mia. “You’re responsible for this, aren’t you? You talked Juliet into saying these ridiculous things to me, to make all these vile accusations. None of it is true. It’s obvious Juliet has suffered a breakdown, and I’m sorry for it, but it has nothing to do with me. Or with Alex. Why are you doing this?”
Mia said quietly, “Because seven years ago you and Alex drove from Boston to a fraternity rave at Godwyn University in Pennsylvania. You wanted new prey, and you wanted anonymity. You picked out the girl and Alex roofied her drink, but something went very wrong. You had to set fire to the frat house to get her out of there.”
His expression of shocked disbelief turned to angry insult. He kicked back in his chair, folded his arms over his chest. “Godwyn University? I’ve hardly even heard of it. Drive to Pennsylvania for a stupid college rave? That’s crazy, and it’s fiction. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Mia continued, “Do you remember her name, Kent? It was Serena. You and she spent time talking about gaming. Maybe she only told you her handle—Aolith. She told me all about you when we were in the bathroom. She was having fun with you, another gamer. You and Alex murdered her, Kent, and you buried her. And we have proof.”
“I will say it again. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never known a girl named Serena or Aolith, and I’ve never been to Godwyn University. Juliet, I suggest you consider getting some help for your issues. As for you, Mia, you’re a disgrace to your profession. I’d like both of you to leave.”
Mia said, “I’m sure Alex told you about the two photographs I showed around of the two of you at that rave seven years ago. One photo clearly shows Alex’s silver link bracelet and his notched ear from his accident playing lacrosse. It shows him next to Serena’s drink, about to put the roofie in it. And there you are, Kent, wielding your imaginary sword, and Serena’s laughing. All in good fun, until she took a drink.”
He slammed his palms on the desktop. “That’s enough! None of this is true. Show me these ridiculous photographs. It can’t be Alex or me. We weren’t there.
“Both of you, listen to me. You misunderstood Alex, that’s all. Yes, Alex mentioned a couple of photos to me. He said Coach Wiliker called him about your showing them to him. They were blurry and who knew who the men were? I wasn’t there. Alex wasn’t there, at least not that I know of. He had other friends. Ask him. I don’t know.” He rose, his hands clenched at his sides. “I will say it one last time. I wasn’t ever at Godwyn University. I wasn’t at this stupid rave. I know nothing about this girl. Now, leave, both of you.”
Already throwing your lifelong friend under the bus, Kent?
Mia heard the panic in his voice, kept pushing. “Serena described you to me that night, Kent, when she met you. She was so excited, full of your praises for knowing as much about gaming as she did. Imagine my surprise when I saw those photos and then saw a silver link bracelet on Alex’s wrist when I interviewed him at his campaign headquarters on Tuesday, only two days ago. People who knew you then, like Juliet, can testify that it was Alex and you in those photos at the rave. It’s only a thirty-minute drive north from there to Valley Forge National Park. That’s where you buried Serena, isn’t it?”
“I’ve never been to that park, either. I didn’t even know it’s a national park. Stop this now!”
Juliet said, “You’re forgetting the Revolutionary War belt buckle and two buttons Alex found there. He was stupid to have kept them because I saw them, Kent, many people have, displayed in his living room trophy case. I asked him about them, and he told me he’d visited Valley Forge National Park with you a couple of times. Did he find them in the dirt while you were digging Serena’s grave? Or nearby?” Juliet leaned forward, raised her finger at him. “Ring up one lie.”
Mia said, “And before you say all of that is supposition again, let me tell you exactly what I believe happened. Alex drove the two of you in his precious red Jaguar to Godwyn that night seven years ago. And guess what? We have a photo of the Jag parked outside the fraternity, the license plate nice and clear. Alex gave the Jag to Pamela’s younger sister four years ago. No supposition there, she’s posted photos of Alex with her and the Jag. The Jag’s being impounded as we speak by the Boston FBI, and their CSI team will be going over it. You’d better hope Alex did a good job cleaning up that car. A single hair root, a tiny drop from blood splatter, and they’ll identify Serena’s DNA. The technology is that
good now.
“Don’t forget your cell phones. There’ll be records. Did you know wireless carriers keep billing and cell tower records for seven years? Did Alex make a call that night? Maybe from the rave? Or from where you buried Serena at Valley Forge? I can’t imagine after all that excitement, all that work burying Serena, the two of you wanted to drive all the way back to Boston. They’ll find out where you stayed, count on it.”
Kent went as pale as his white walls.
Mia said, “You’re remembering, aren’t you? Remembering Alex made a call? It was Alex who would have, because he was always in charge, not you. He was the one with the big-shot friends, not you. You were always the hanger-on. I don’t think you were the one who killed her, Kent, Alex did. He was the one to put the roofie in her drink.
“Were you upset when she died? You were unless you were faking all your gaming fun with Serena that night. And I don’t believe that. I saw the two of you, laughing, carrying on. Are you going to let Alex dominate you forever, until you’re both in prison for life? Don’t you think it’s time you start protecting yourself?”
His eyes locked on Mia. His expression hardened, and when he spoke, he was once again the big boss, the man in charge, his voice low and vicious. “If you dare to print a word of this, Harper and Harrington lawyers will bury you, bury your whole muckraking newspaper. They’ll hound you until you can’t even find a job writing about snowfall in North Dakota. And you, Juliet, if you accuse us of anything at all, we’ll show you’re the bitter, vindictive bitch you are. Your parents will be ostracized, and your precious concert career will be over.”
Mia smiled at him. “That’s a meaty threat, Kent, but you know what? It sounds pretty lame to me after you tried to kill me last night. Or was it Alex who tried to run me down? He knew exactly where I’d be since he had Miles Lombardy buy me a drink.”
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