by Regan Black
“They claimed he was blackmailing her,” Leigh said. “He wasn’t.”
All of Pippa’s preplanned questions dried up. Fact or fiction, she wondered as Leigh rambled on about everlasting love and all the plans she and David Hicks had been making.
“He didn’t need her money,” she insisted. “Well, fine. No one turns down easy cash, but he didn’t need it.”
“Regardless,” Pippa interjected, “Anna wasn’t afraid of his threat.”
“Because he never threatened her,” Leigh snapped. “You’ve got him all wrong.”
Pippa refrained from mentioning the blackmail note that had been entered as evidence along with Hicks’s previous patterns of bilking money from women. “I only meant Mr. and Mrs. Wentworth had an understanding about her extramarital affairs.”
“Oh.” Leigh blinked, her outrageous false eyelashes adding to the effect.
“Did you lend money to David when you were together?”
“Not a loan, an investment,” Leigh said. “We had plans for a boutique fitness club until...” She pressed her lips together. “Until...”
Pippa had never understood how some women could cry so prettily.
“This is so difficult,” Leigh managed, fanning her face. “I admit sometimes it annoyed me when David blatantly admired other women. But I was the one he came back to.”
Pippa prodded Leigh a bit more until she had a couple of more names of women Hicks had “admired” while out with Leigh. Thanking her, Pippa took her smoothie and headed for the parking lot.
Emmanuel joined her as soon as she was out of sight of the juice bar. “You left her crying into her spinach smoothie.”
“Kale,” Pippa corrected, smothering a laugh. “She had kale and wheat berry, and I lost track after that. Her post-workout remedy is as much a mystery as the real killer.”
He smiled as he held open her car door. “Did you get a lead?”
“Don’t know yet. The names she mentioned didn’t sound familiar.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
She sat down behind the steering wheel and played with her keys. “Good thing we brought two cars,” she said, zipping up her hoodie. She wasn’t sure she’d stopped sweating yet. “That was one intense workout.”
He grinned. “You’re adorable when you pedal. Drink up. I’ll follow you home.”
Home. She smiled to herself through the entire drive. The man had a gift for making her heart feel lighter even when she was up against an insurmountable task. At first she’d thought his easy manner was a strategy as a detective. Now she knew it was just his way. These days, with everyone who recognized her shooting daggers at her or calling her names, it helped to know she had one person not named Colton or Wentworth on her side.
She turned into the driveway and pulled up at her assigned space behind her building and gawked at the mess that greeted her. Someone had dumped enough trash and kitchen scraps to fill her space, making it impossible for her to park. She drove on around to a guest space and walked back to take pictures and call it in.
Her legs were shaking, with anger rather than muscle overload now. Using her phone, she took several pictures. The odor alone made her post-spin-class-self smell like a daisy in a spring breeze. Just in case she thought this could be a coincidence, there was a sign in the center:
Leave the real trash in jail or else.
Or else what? Her condo had been invaded, twice, and now apparently the security was up to snuff, because her harasser had taken an easier shot at her today. Except it couldn’t have been too easy to stage this without being spotted by someone. Still taking risks, still urging her to drop the Wentworth case.
She sent the pictures to Kiely for lack of a better immediate solution. What could be done? “I’m not stopping,” she shouted, just in case the person who’d done this was watching and could hear her.
Emmanuel was striding over, having parked out front on the street as he normally did.
Seeing him, something deep inside snapped, and suddenly angry tears blurred her vision. She blinked furiously. She would not give her tormentor the satisfaction of knowing how much he’d upset her.
Lifting her chin and squaring her shoulders, she called building maintenance. This was just another roadblock in her way, nothing that would keep her from achieving her goal of proving Anna’s innocence.
* * *
Emmanuel broke into a jog when he saw Pippa standing in front of the space where her car should be. The smell hit him before the full scene struck home. Another threat, executed while she was away from home. Joe or one of his many connections had been watching her closely.
How closely was what worried him.
He caught her just as she charged forward as if she was going to shred that nasty sign with her bare hands. “Leave it. Let me call it in.”
“Don’t,” she snapped. She twisted out of his grasp, but she didn’t try to wade back into the mess.
“Why not? It’s vandalism.”
She swallowed, then her chin came up. “Because I’m done.”
“Done with Wentworth?”
“No.” She shot him a look that told him he should know her better than that. “I’m done playing games. We both know there won’t be any helpful evidence in that pile of trash.”
“We do not know that,” he said, calmly.
She arched an eyebrow and folded her arms over her chest, daring him to come up with a better explanation.
“Fine.” He took a good look, analyzing the scene. It was a common plastic kitchen trash bag split along a seam. Based on the astounding lack of evidence found at the other instances of harassment, she was right. They wouldn’t find so much as a single fingerprint or helpful fiber. More confirmation of his theory that it was someone in the department working to keep Wentworth behind bars. “There’s a chance someone got sloppy.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Either way, you can’t stay here anymore,” he said, braced for an outburst.
“I will not be chased from my home,” she snapped, her voice low.
He was about to suggest a compromise when her phone rang. “Kiely,” she said to him as she answered. “Hi. I’m fine, stop worrying.” A pause as she listened. “No.” Another pause. “Yes.” She glared at him. “My sister wants to talk with you.”
“Hi, Kiely,” he said, taking the phone as Pippa stalked back to her car.
“She didn’t call the police?”
“Technically, I am the police,” he reminded her, moving around the scene. “There aren’t any obvious tracks, but I planned to take pictures before anything else happens. My thought was to shove this all into another bag and have the lab take a look anyway.”
“Agreed.” Kiely sighed. “I’ll call Sadie to swing by. I know why Pippa doesn’t want to bother anyone in the department, but if the perp made a mistake, it could be the break we all need.”
“Exactly my thought,” Emmanuel said. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Great. Thanks, Detective. And the next time we have a Colton family dinner or CI meeting, Griffin wants you to join us.”
Not about to give an answer without clearing it with Pippa, he wasn’t sure what to say. “Thanks.”
Kiely chuckled and wished him luck before she ended the call.
“Here.” Emmanuel walked over to Pippa’s car and returned her phone.
“She’s insisting you do something to investigate isn’t she?”
“Yes.”
She muttered an oath in French, her preference.
“I know you’re tired of all of this, so why take a chance that this time a critical error was made?” He could see her resistance to his logic, but he knew she’d come around. He held out his hand. “Come on, we’ll go get a trash bag together.”
She put her hand in his and they headed upstairs. It felt good
to walk with her like this, as a team. As a couple.
“Building maintenance has extra bags,” she said. “We can go in the back.”
“All right.” That would give him some time to think how they could best make a move that led to a resolution rather than more questions.
Chapter 12
The next morning Pippa was working at home again, too antsy for the office. The first payment to Capital X was officially overdue. She was trying to fit what Leigh had told her yesterday into the context of her notes from the official case file. Granted, her concentration was shot, knowing any minute now Capital X enforcers were likely to descend on the woman pretending to be Alison Carrington a few blocks away.
However her brother and the GRPD had coordinated the plan, Pippa couldn’t get her mind off the risk to the undercover officer who had volunteered for this and the others who hoped to drop a net around the enforcers so they could unravel the operation.
Unlike Anna, Pippa had always valued the people who served the police department. It started with the example of her parents and the ways her siblings served the local police department and military justice, in the case of her other sister, Vikki. Spending this time with Emmanuel, falling for him, drove home the bigger risks of the people who chose to serve and protect the community. Pippa ran into the proverbial fire when necessary, but aside from these recent days, the direct physical danger was minimal. Would the woman working undercover be able to avoid serious injury?
Considering all the bones Capital X broke in the name of business, she wondered if they had a kickback arrangement with local orthopedic specialists. Not that she expected doctors to be that corrupt, but referrals were a thing in every industry now.
Another totally irrelevant thought that had no bearing on what she needed to accomplish today.
She had to focus on the things only she could do. Kiely would give her the play-by-play if Capital X made a move on the Alison Carrington alias. Pushing away from her desk, she went to the kitchen to prepare a cup of tea.
Maybe the soothing brew would settle her racing thoughts. Leaving the tea on the counter to steep, she returned to her desk and the pictures of the scene when Hicks’s body had been found.
Every time she studied this file, she did it knowing Anna was innocent. But a jury convicted her on this same evidence. Why? They had to have thought the information backed Emmanuel’s testimony.
The prosecutor presented a compelling case in court. A blood trail, the blackmail motive, even Anna’s brooch at the scene. In the jury’s shoes, with Anna’s snobby reputation, that had probably been enough.
Anna had insisted on owning unique, often one-of-a-kind items, down to the smallest personal accessory. For years she’d seen it as a crime if someone else was spotted wearing the same outfit or jewelry design.
Like so many things, in Anna’s view, David Hicks was technically disposable. Mr. Wentworth had put up with his wife’s infidelity for years, most likely in an attempt to keep things stable for Elizabeth. Somehow staying married was less costly for the Wentworths than divorce. Factor in the negative publicity of a scandal affecting their charitable endeavors, and an objective person could find more motive for them to stay together.
Pippa knew marriages were tricky. By design the most intimate of partnerships, yet so often the most flawed. Maybe her view was skewed because of what had happened between her parents, but outsiders rarely got the full picture of another couple.
She turned the pictures of the crime scene around, studying them from all angles as Emmanuel would have done that day. The jewelry under the body bothered her almost as much as the idea of Anna doing the messy work of murder.
How long had the body been there before the coroner turned it over and found that brooch?
She checked the report and could only guess that Joe McRath might have had time to walk the house, find the brooch and plant it.
Anna was in a rarefied class all her own, but she wasn’t stupid. Caught up in the moment or not, she wouldn’t leave a piece like this behind. Her mind did not operate that way. Pippa closed her eyes and imagined Anna overlooking the moment when a prized piece went missing.
It just wasn’t possible. Elizabeth’s mother wasn’t the kind of woman to ignore that kind of sparkle. According to the time of death, it had been a sunny day. The sunlight would’ve caught in those stones, and based on the location of the body, if the brooch had fallen to the grass, Anna would have noticed.
If Emmanuel hadn’t planted the brooch—and she knew he had not—it had to be McRath. The reports gave no indication of any other police officers entering the private suites in the Wentworth mansion until after the coroner cleared the body for transport. That was enough to get someone’s attention, possibly enough attention to reopen the case.
Before she blurted it all out to a judge, or hinted at it in the media, she’d like to know why an honorable, decorated cop like Joe snapped. Whether or not McRath killed Hicks—and for the life of her she couldn’t figure out why he would—only McRath had the opportunity to stage the scene so completely for his partner on that day, Emmanuel.
Would evidence tampering be enough to free Anna?
Could she prove it? Even Emmanuel, a seasoned detective, had not realized the murder scene was staged. And she would do anything to avoid the embarrassment of having him admit he’d been fooled. Her goal here was to free an innocent woman, Anna, not tarnish Emmanuel’s reputation. With their recent personal involvement, if he changed his mind now about what he had seen then, his motives would be suspect. A detective working with a lawyer to free a convicted killer? She didn’t want to think about the severe fallout that would rain down on him.
There had to be a way for her to draw out Joe.
* * *
Emmanuel walked into the coffee shop near the “Alison Carrington” apartment and placed his order. Though it seemed normal, there was nothing relaxed about this particular morning. Everyone was braced for an unprovoked attack. While he waited for his order, his thoughts wandered back to that first day when Pippa had brought coffee to him in his car.
He hadn’t been at his best in that moment, having just learned of Ingrid’s death by RevitaYou. She’d shown tremendous compassion and unforgettable hospitality. He might have started falling in love with her right then.
Coffee in hand, he left the shop and strolled on down the block. To anyone watching, he was another man distracted by his phone, although he was alert to any danger or disturbance. He knew where the GRPD spotters were located. He knew where Kiely and Riley were hiding.
Emmanuel’s only role here was as extra support.
The female officer playing the part of Alison took a seat at an outdoor table with her coffee and a small takeout. Working undercover wasn’t nearly as easy as it seemed on television. It could be equal parts boring and extreme. In this instance, Emmanuel was strung up tight as a bow.
Set on silent, his phone lit up with an incoming call from Griffin. “What are you doing out here this morning?” his friend asked.
“You can’t expect me to sit this one out,” he replied.
“I can expect you to keep an eye on my sister like we agreed,” Griffin said. “She’s not here, is she?”
“She’s working from home. I just checked in with her.”
“Why doesn’t that make me feel better?”
Emmanuel assumed it was because Griffin had plenty of experience with the daring nature of his sisters. “If I wasn’t out here, she would be,” he said instead.
“What’s going on with you two?” Griffin asked.
He’d known this conversation would happen, but the timing couldn’t be worse. He walked along, circling the block. “I’m keeping an eye on her.”
“Pretty close eye.”
“Seriously? You just accused me of not being close enough.”
Griffin might have laughed. “
Stop before I need brain bleach. She’s an adult. I’ll shut up while we’re working.”
“Thanks for that.” Anything to put an end to this uncomfortable chat.
“Just don’t hurt her,” Griffin snapped. “Pippa claims to be invincible, but she isn’t.”
Emmanuel wisely kept his mouth shut. His insights into Pippa were his own and likely wouldn’t gel with her brother’s perception. Not once had he believed her invincible. Too daring, maybe. And that was only because he’d fallen for her.
Which was ironic because her bold courage and determination had been the first things he’d found irresistible. Relationships were ridiculous. He didn’t care for the way his feelings twisted him up when he needed to concentrate.
Before he could muster a suitable reply, he noticed the enforcers approaching their target. Neither man looked familiar to Emmanuel, but that didn’t mean much. He ended the call, holding his position and watching the scene unfold.
The two men walked right up to her, almost as if they’d been watching. The smaller of the two men pulled out a chair and sat down. He had deep-set eyes, a shaved head, and a swagger and build that implied he had plenty of fighting experience. The larger man stood there looking intimidating, his big hands clasped loosely in front of him. They didn’t seem to care that they were drawing attention from other patrons of the coffee shop.
Then the big man reached for the woman playing Alison, yanking her up and out of her seat. She twisted out of his grasp and started to run, per the plan. Her job, once confirming the men were enforcers from Capital X, was to lead them to a less public area down the block for the takedown.
She didn’t make it that far.
The bald man was too quick, catching her around the waist and pinning her to his side so she couldn’t escape. The bulky man hemmed her in and they started to walk away.