Innocent Mistakes

by Melissa F. Miller

  Aunt Sasha shakes her head. “It’s not our burden to prove she didn’t do it. It’s the Commonwealth’s burden to prove she did. But, honestly, Sean, I don’t think Principal Dunbar has the appetite to pursue this, and with Hunter’s uncle out of the picture, I’m sure the ADA will offer her the same deal he offered Colin. And that’s her worst-case scenario. It’ll work out.”

  “She can’t take that deal. She didn’t post the comment,” Colin blurts.

  Aunt Sasha studies him. “Neither did you, and you were prepared to take the deal. She may make the same decision.”

  “No!”

  Dad’s eyes widen in surprise at the force in his voice. Aunt Sasha lifts one eyebrow.

  “I mean … no, she shouldn’t do that.”

  “That’ll be up to her,” Dad points out.

  Colin tries to beat back his frustration, but angry tears prick at his eyes. “She can’t.”

  “Why don’t we take that walk?” Aunt Sasha suggests.

  He nods and blinks back his tears. She holds the door open, and he steps out onto the porch.

  Keep it together, dude.

  She hands him his phone as they walk down to the sidewalk, and he pockets it. They cross the street and head to the small park in the middle of the neighborhood. It’s so tiny that it barely counts as a park, but there’s a pond with ducks and some benches scattered around it. They walk past the playground that he and Siobhan spent hours playing at when they were little.

  “Remember the time I was babysitting and you and your sister had a contest to see who could hang upside-down from the jungle gym the longest?” Aunt Sasha points her chin toward the monkey bars.

  He laughs at the memory. “I forgot all about that.”

  “I didn’t. You two hung there like a pair of bats for ages. I thought you’d be there forever. But when the backs of Siobhan’s knees got sweaty and she started to slide down, you let go, too, so you’d hit the ground at the same time. Such a good brother.”

  He shrugs off the compliment. “I bet Finn and Fiona would do the same thing.”

  “I hope so.” She gives him a tired smile.

  He bets she’s so tired because of the swatting. He looked up the local headlines on his laptop this morning, and there was a picture of the police still outside her house at midnight.

  They walk around the loop and come across a bench that’s in the shade of an apple tree.

  She gestures toward the bench. “Let’s sit.”

  “Sure.”

  Once they’re settled on the bench, she says, “Who’s Science Grl?”

  The question comes out of nowhere. “What?”

  “Science Grl. The IT specialist found messages between you and someone named Science Grl on some social media app.”

  He stiffens. “It’s nothing. It doesn’t have anything to do with Hunter.”

  She tilts her head. “I didn’t say it did. I’m just wondering who she is.”

  Stop being defensive, dummy.

  He tries to sound casual. “She’s nobody. Just some girl.”

  “It looks like the two of you started talking right after you and Mallory ended things.”

  “Maybe? I don’t remember.” He shrugs.

  “It makes it harder for me to help you when you’re holding back on me, Colin.”

  The disappointment in her voice stings, but he ignores the twinge. “You don’t have to help me anymore, though, right? If the post came from Siobhan’s phone, ADA Donaldson can’t charge me.”

  “That’s true, but it would be helpful to know what’s going on. It might be important for Siobhan’s defense.”

  “It’s not,” he insists.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Yes, why? Are you calling me a liar?”

  “No. I just noticed that the messages between you and Science Grl seem secretive, or coded.”

  “What? No,” he scoffs.

  She reaches into her pocket and takes out a printout. Then she says “For example, you wrote ‘Keep the objective in mind when you interact with Target.’ And Science Grl responded, ‘I am. But Target just repeats same thing. Can’t get what we want. Will keep trying.’ That sounds like you two are plotting something.”

  He stares down at his hands. He doesn’t have a good answer, and he’s not about to tell her what that message actually means, so he says nothing. She waits.

  Finally he says, “Maybe Siobhan came home upset because you’re poking around in things that are none of your business.”

  “When you asked me to help you with a legal issue, you made it my business.”

  He doesn’t respond.

  She puts her hand on his knee. “Colin, I’m going to tell you what I told your sister. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “Nothing’s going on.”

  “I don’t think that’s true. I think that you haven’t changed since you were a little boy hanging upside down. You’re trying to protect Siobhan—that’s what I think. But sometimes you need to talk to an adult, Colin.”

  He coughs. “There’s nothing to talk about, Aunt Sasha.”

  She sighs and stands up. “If you change your mind, know that you can tell me anything. Not only because I’m your lawyer, but because I’m your aunt. I love you no matter what.”

  He leaps to his feet, too, and mumbles something that’s supposed to sound like an agreement. They walk in silence until they reach the playground.

  Then she says, “How did you know something happened last night?”

  He starts. “What?”

  “Your dad called me last night while I was still at work. He said you wanted to know if we were okay.”

  “Oh, that. I just had a bad feeling. You know? I guess it was nothing.”

  “Oh, no, it was something.”

  He arranges his expression into the most innocent face he can make. “Oh? What happened?”

  She stops walking and examines his face for a long time. The disappointment in her eyes cuts through him. She says, “I don’t know what happened to make you and Siobhan think you can’t trust me. I’ll do everything I can to help you regardless, but you’re making my job harder by holding things back.”

  She turns and walks away, leaving him alone in the park. He wants to run after her and tell her everything, but he stops himself.

  Instead, he pulls up his messaging app and pings Mallory:

  We need to pull the trigger. Can U meet me tomorrow while ur mom’s at church?

  He waits and watches the three little dots blink:

  Yes. Am with Target now. Will c u @ 7 tomorrow. I’ll have what we need.

  He exhales and returns the phone to his pocket. One more day, and then Hunter will pay for what he did to Vonnie.

  27

  Sasha thinks about Siobhan and Colin for the entire drive into the city. She’s not convinced she got through to either of them. She wants to give them a chance to come to her, but they’re really tying her hands. If they keep holding out on her, she’s going to have to tell Sean and Jordan about the deep fakes and get their permission to take it to Joe Donaldson. She can stall one more day—maybe. That’ll have to be long enough.

  When she gets to work, she pops into Jake’s for a coffee. As she’s leaving the coffee shop, she hears her name. She turns to see Carter Lightman flagging her down from a table in the window.

  This should be interesting. She crosses the room and gives him a broad smile.

  “Carter, what are you doing in the neighborhood?”

  “I had a meeting with my architect. I’m gutting the carriage house behind Mother’s place. We’re taking it down to the studs and giving it a complete remodel. And I can’t resist Jake’s London fog, so here I am.”

  Her curiosity gets the better of her. “London fog?”

  “It’s a lavender-infused Earl Grey tea latte with steamed milk and a splash of vanilla. It’s transcendent.”

  “It sounds transcendent.”

  “And if you
ask, Jake’ll make you a dirty London fog, which is the same drink with a shot of espresso.”

  “Oh. Wow.”

  “Right? So, what are you drinking?” He nods his head toward her mug.

  “Coffee.” He stares at her, so she elaborates, “Black.”

  “How delightfully retro.”

  “Right?”

  She’s burned her bridge with Megan, but the Lightman family is a big deal in Pittsburgh legal and political circles. If she were smart, she’d make nice with Carter for a minute or two. He’s not a bad person, just bizarrely rich.

  She drops into the chair across from his. “So, remodeling the carriage house, huh? Is that where you and Megan are going to live after the wedding?”

  He rears back his head and gapes at her. “You haven’t heard the news.”

  No, although she suspects she can guess. “I haven’t spoken to Megan since Thursday. I’m sure she mentioned that we didn’t see eye to eye on legal strategy, and she fired me.”

  After I backed her into it.

  He dunks the tea bag up and down, up and down, as he tells his story. “Yes, she mentioned it. After she told me that you agreed with me that she should just let the ring go, we had a heated discussion.”

  Note to self, heated discussion sounds much classier than fight.

  “Oh?”

  “She gave me an ultimatum: her or my family.”

  “Ouch. What did you say?”

  He runs his hand through his hair. “I gave her an ultimatum of my own: me or a piece of metal. She picked the metal, and we called off the wedding.”

  “I’m so sorry, Carter. But, when you say she picked the metal—she kept the ring?”

  “As a matter of fact, she did.”

  She grimaces. “That’s unfortunate. I foresee a nasty, protracted legal battle between your sister and your ex-fiancée.”

  Carter chortles. That’s the only word she can think of to describe his hearty laughter. “Your crystal ball must be broken.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, everyone is fine with Megan keeping the ring.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Mother knew, when she gave it to me for Megan, that doing so was against Grandmother Helene’s wishes.”

  “She did?”

  “She did. It was … a test, of sorts. Mother and Paige had been telling me for ages that Megan was a gold digger.”

  “Wait. Doesn’t she also come from a wealthy family?”

  Carter smiles, indulgently, “Megan’s family is new money. There’s a difference.”

  Sasha nods as if she has the slightest idea what he means. “Of course.”

  “Anyway, Mother and Paige set up, well, I suppose one might call it a sting operation. They wanted to protect me from myself. They saw that I was dazzled by Megan’s beauty and charm and not seeing her for who she truly was. So they decided to let Megan show me.”

  “With a sting operation?”

  He sips his tea. “It was quite clever, really. I mean, they had to be willing to let go of a 3.5-carat diamond, but it’s not really Paige’s style. Besides, Grandmother left us plenty of other jewels.”

  She’s momentarily speechless. Paige’s attorney had the diamond appraised, and Sasha knows how many zeroes are in the number. Carter’s watching her closely as she tries to wrap her mind around the sheer mind-boggling wealth of it all.

  She musters a smile and stands up. “I’m glad it worked out the way you wanted, and I hope the renovation goes smoothly.”

  He bounces to his feet. “Thank you, and thanks for being so frank with Megan. It brought the issue to a head while it was still easy to unwind.”

  “It was my pleasure, Carter.”

  “I’ll come see you if I ever need a prenup,” he calls as she walks away.

  She waves goodbye to Jake and hurries up the stairs to her offices. Something Carter said about his mother and sister’s sting operation stirs a memory and she pulls out her phone to call Connelly. He answers on the second ring.

  “Hey, I was just about to call you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, we’re sitting out on the deck watching a mama duck teach her ducklings how to swim.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “Not quite.”

  “Oh?”

  “You’re not here.”

  She smiles. “Maybe I’ll be able to join you in a day or two—once I get everything straightened out with the twins.”

  “Our twins and I would love that.”

  “Me, too. So were you going to call me with an update or just to hear my voice?”

  “An update. Hank’s confirmed that my personnel file was accessed at Homeland Security by someone who had no business looking at it.”

  “Someone you know? Somebody who has a beef with you?”

  “No. I’ve never spoken to the guy.”

  She draws her brows together. “Then why? Do you think he’s been compromised?”

  “Not in the way you mean. He used to work at the FBI. And when he got called onto the carpet, he said he was just doing a favor for a friend in the Bureau.”

  “Merriweather?”

  “Merriweather.”

  “But why? You can’t possibly think an FBI agent swatted us.”

  “It seems unlikely, but he got our address Thursday afternoon. Friday night, a SWAT team broke down our door. At a minimum, Merriweather has some questions to answer.”

  There’s an edge, a promise of violence in his voice, that makes her uneasy. “Connelly—”

  “I’m going to talk to him. That’s it.”

  “What’s your plan? Just call him up?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe it’ll wait until I get back to Pittsburgh so we can talk face to face. But you can be sure that Nathan Merriweather’s going to hear from me.”

  She lets herself into her office and switches on her light. “Whatever you do, just please keep your temper.”

  “You’re one to talk—a graduate of court-ordered anger management,” he teases her. Then his voice grows serious again. “How’d it go this morning with the kids?”

  “Not great. Siobhan got really upset when I tried to talk to her about the deep fakes, and Colin refused to talk to me at all about the Science Grl messages.”

  “He stonewalled you?”

  “Mmm-hmm. But I did get Siobhan to confirm that Hunter Dalton is Castle Rock.”

  “For sure?”

  “He told her as much in line in the cafeteria one day.”

  “What a little ….”

  “I know.”

  “So she did post the comment?” Connelly asks.

  “She still insists she didn’t. So, no.”

  “Who else could it be?”

  “I know, it doesn’t make any sense. But that’s not why I’m calling. I ran into Carter Lightman at Jake’s, and something he said reminded me of some super-boring documentary you made me watch about George Washington’s spy ring.”

  “The Culper Ring? What was boring about that?”

  She rolls her eyes. Endless documentaries are the price of being married to a history buff.

  “Anyway. Didn’t someone in that ring use the code name Bolton?”

  His excitement crackles through the phone. “Yes! Major Benjamin Tallmadge. He was Washington’s director of military intelligence. He organized the Culper Ring and used ‘John Bolton’ as his alias. I’m impressed you remember that detail.”

  It must have come early in the program—before she fell asleep.

  “Thanks. You know Colin loves American history as much as you do. Do you think he would know about Bolton?”

  “Definitely.”

  “You sound pretty sure.”

  “I am. We’ve talked about the Culper Ring. He wrote a paper about Hercules Mulligan. Mulligan was also a member of the ring.”

  “Oh, right, like in the musical.”

  Connelly huffs, “Yes, like in the musical. Also like in the American Revolution.”

/>   “Sure, of course.”

  “So where are you going with this?”

  “Carter told me he and Megan split up.”

  “Shocker.”

  “I know. The whole thing with his grandmother’s ring was a set up. His mother and sister knew she’d take that ring and refuse to give it back, thus revealing herself to be a … wait for it … gold digger.”

  “A sting operation.”

  “Pretty much. That made me think about those messages between Science Grl and Bolton in a new light. I think they’re planning a honey trap.”

  “Hmm, using a female agent to lure in the target.”

  “Right. Mallory Fuller is Siobhan’s best friend, and she used to date Colin. As soon as they split up—out of the blue, mind you—Mallory starts dating Hunter.”

  “You think they engineered the break-up so that Mallory could get close to Hunter?”

  “I do. I asked Siobhan if Colin knew about the deep fakes, and she was adamant that she didn’t tell him, which I can understand. But she did tell her best friend.”

  “And Mallory told Colin.”

  “Of course she did. And the two of them cooked up some plan to expose Hunter or avenge Siobhan or whatever. That all tracks, right?”

  She waits while Connelly considers the idea, probing it for holes. After a moment, he says, “Yeah, it hangs together. Except for one thing. Why would they post that stupid message for Hunter to kill himself? It tipped their hand and drew attention to Colin. It’s poor spycraft.”

  She laughs. “Well, when the spies are sixteen and their brains aren’t fully developed, there may be some impulse control issues.”

  “Fair enough,” he concedes.

  “But I’m still not convinced any of them posted it. One of the tasks on my list is to put together a timeline and figure out who else had access to Siobhan’s phone.”

  “Smart.”

  “It was Colin’s idea, actually.”

  “Well done, Bolton.”

  “Then I need to try to figure out exactly what Colin and Mallory are planning to do to Hunter, but …”

  “Nobody’s talking.”

  “Precisely.”

  “Organized crime could take a lesson from teenagers. Who needs omertà when you have a deep-seated distrust of anyone over the age of thirty?”