Dark Horse (33 page)

42

Weiss came out of the hospital first,
running for his car. As he drove past me, I could see he was on his cell phone. Something was going down.

Ten minutes later, Armedgian finally arrived and went into the hospital, then came back out a minute later with Dugan. They stood on the sidewalk, Armedgian angry and animated. Their voices rose and fell, the gist of the conversation drifting my way as I sat in my car with the windows down. Armedgian felt he’d been left out, should have been notified immediately, blah, blah, blah. Dugan was short with him. Not the FBI’s secretary, get over it, all on the same page now, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

They went to their individual vehicles and drove away, dash lights flashing.

I got out of my car and went back into the ER, going down the hall toward the examination room Erin had been in. Landry came out of the room with a large brown paper evidence bag in hand: Erin’s clothes, which would go to the lab to be examined for DNA evidence.

“What’s going on?” I asked, changing direction and hustling to keep up with him.

“Erin says Jade was one of the kidnappers.”

“Positive ID?” I asked, not believing it. “She saw him?”

“She says they wore masks, but she thinks it was him.”

“How? Why does she think it was him? His voice? A tattoo? What?”

“I don’t have time for this, Elena,” he said impatiently. “Weiss and some uniforms are on their way to pick him up. I’ve got to get back to the station.”

“Did she say anything about Van Zandt?”

“No.”

“Who else then?”

“She didn’t say. We don’t have the whole story yet. But we’re grabbing Jade before he can split. If he knows she’s gotten away, he knows he’s gotta get out of Dodge. If we can snag him now, we’ll get him to roll on his partner.”

The doors swooshed open and we went outside, headed for Landry’s car. I wanted everything to stop, for time to stop right then so I could think before anything more happened. The plot had taken a hard left turn, and I was having a difficult time making the corner. Landry, however, had no intention of slowing down.

“Where did they have her?” I asked. “How did she get away?”

“Later,” Landry said, getting into his car.

“But—”

He fired the engine and I had to jump back as he pulled out of the parking space and drove away.

I stood there like an idiot, watching him go, trying to digest what had just happened. It just didn’t make sense to me that Jade would take the risk of kidnapping someone—or that he had the temperament for it. I couldn’t see Jade as a team player in a thing like this.

Landry had developed Jade as a suspect, had circumstantial evidence against Jade. He had a vested interest in Jade being the perpetrator.

I wanted to know what Erin had said. I wanted to hear her story from her lips. I wanted to ask the questions and interpret her answers from my own perspective, with my own knowledge of the case and the people involved.

An ambulance came screaming toward the hospital, screeching to a halt in the bay as hospital staff ran out to meet it. A huge woman screaming blue murder came out of the vehicle on the gurney, calling for Jesus as arterial blood sprayed in a geyser from what looked like a compound fracture of her left leg. Someone shouted something about a victim from the second car coming in.

I slipped back into the hospital behind the mob as they rushed the woman toward a trauma room. Staff were running everywhere in the chaos of the moment. I went directly to the room where Erin had been and slipped inside.

The bed was empty. Erin had already been taken to a regular room. The exam room had not yet otherwise been cleared. A steel tray sat with suture equipment and bloody cotton balls. A speculum lay in the small sink, discarded after the rape exam.

I felt like the party was over and no one had invited me in the first place. Landry had Erin’s clothes and the rape kit. There was nothing here for me to find.

I sighed and stepped back from the table, my absent gaze dropping to the floor. A small silver bracelet lay half-hidden under the table. I bent to pick it up. Made of silver, the links were fashioned in the shape of stirrups, one interlocking with the next. A couple of tiny charms hung from it—one a horse’s head, one the letter E for Erin.

Just the thing for a horse-crazy teenager. I wondered if it had been a gift. I wondered if the gift-giver was a man, and if that man had betrayed her in the most terrible way.

The door swung open and I turned around to face a deputy.

“Where did they take my niece?” I asked. “Erin Seabright?”

“Fourth floor, ma’am.”

“Will she have a guard?” I asked. “I mean, what if one of the men who took her comes here—”

“We’ve posted someone outside her room. You won’t have to worry, ma’am. She’s safe now.”

“What a relief,” I said without enthusiasm. “Thank you.”

He held the door for me as I left the room. I walked away, disappointed. I couldn’t get to Erin. I couldn’t get to Jade. I didn’t know where Van Zandt was lurking. It was three in the morning and I was locked out of the case again.

I slipped the bracelet in my pocket and headed home to sleep.

The calm before the storm.

43

What do you have to say
about this, Mr. Jade?”

Landry placed the photographs on the table in front of Don Jade, side by side by side. Jade astride a horse, smiling at the camera. Jade standing beside a colorful fence in a showring, in breeches and boots, profile to the camera as he pointed to something. Jade on another horse, going over a fence. Jade with his arm around Erin, her face scribbled over in ink by a jealous Jill Morone.

“I don’t have anything to say about them.”

Landry reached out and turned the last picture over like a blackjack dealer flipping an ace.

“Until someone drew a line through it, the inscription on this was: To Erin. Love, Don. Do you have something to say now?”

“I didn’t write it.”

“We can have an expert compare handwriting samples.”

“Don’t even start the battle of the experts with me, Detective,” Bert Shapiro said, sounding like he might die of boredom. Landry wished he would. “I’ve got bigger clubs in my bag than you do.”

Bert Shapiro: walking, talking, designer-dressed prick.

Landry looked at the attorney with hooded eyes. “What’s your connection to these people, Counselor?”

“This should be self-evident, but we are dealing with the Sheriff’s Office, after all,” Shapiro said to the room at large, amused with himself. Stubby little cocksucker. “I’m Mr. Jade’s attorney.”

“Yeah, I caught on to that. And Van Zandt’s attorney.”

“Yes.”

“And who else in that little rat’s nest? Trey Hughes?”

“My client list is confidential.”

“Just trying to save you some time,” Landry said. “Hughes will be in here next, talking to us about Mr. Jade. So, if he’s one of yours too, you can just hang out with us morons at the Sheriff’s Office all day. Enjoy our hospitality and bad coffee.”

Shapiro frowned. “Do you have some legitimate reason for wasting Mr. Jade’s time here, Detective?”

Landry looked around the room, the same way Shapiro had. “That should have been self-evident when Mr. Jade was Mirandized. He’s charged with the kidnapping of Erin Seabright.”

Jade pushed his chair back from the table and got up to pace. “That’s absurd. I haven’t kidnapped anyone.”

“What evidence do you have to support the charge, Detective?” Shapiro asked. “And before you answer, let me point out to you that it’s not illegal to have one’s photograph taken by an ardent fan or employee.”

Landry looked at Jade, letting the anticipation gain some weight. “No, but it is against the law to hold a young woman against her will, chain her to a bed, and beat her with a riding whip.”

Jade exploded. “That’s ridiculous!”

Landry loved it. The cool cat was in a corner now. Now the temper came out. “Erin didn’t seem to find it amusing at all. She says you were the mastermind.”

“Why would she say such a thing?” Jade demanded. “I’ve never been anything but kind to that girl.”

Landry shrugged just to be annoying. “Maybe because you terrorized her, abused her, raped her—”

“I did no such thing!”

Shapiro put a hand on his client’s arm. “Have a seat, Don. Clearly, the girl is mistaken,” he said to Landry. “If she’s been tortured, as you say, who knows what kinds of things the kidnappers put into her head. They might have convinced her of anything. They might have had her on drugs—”

“Why would you say that?” Landry asked.

“Because clearly the girl isn’t in her right mind if she thinks Don had anything to do with this.”

“Well, somebody’s misunderstood something,” Landry said. “When last we spoke, Mr. Jade denied having had anything other than a working relationship with Erin Seabright. Maybe he misunderstood the meaning of ‘working relationship.’ That doesn’t generally involve sex between employer and employee.”

Jade blew out a breath. “I told you before: I have never had sex with Erin.”

Landry pretended not to be listening. He fingered the photographs on the table. “You know, we found these photographs this morning—Sunday morning—in the apartment shared by Jill Morone—victim of murder and sexual assault—and Erin Seabright—victim of kidnapping and sexual assault. Jill Morone was last seen alive having an argument with you, and you yourself admit you were the last person to see Erin before she disappeared.”

“She came to tell me she was quitting,” Jade said. “I had no idea she’d gone missing until you brought it up.”

“Employee relations are not your strong suit, are they, Don?” Landry said. “Erin wants to leave you, so you chain her to a bed. Jill disappoints you, so you shove her face in a pile of shit and suffocate her—”

“My God,” Jade said, still pacing. “Who could believe I would do any of that?”

“The same people who believe you electrocuted a horse for the insurance money.”

“I did nothing of the kind.”

“Erin knew, Jill knew. One’s dead, one’s lucky not to be.”

“This is all speculation,” Shapiro said. “You don’t have a shred of evidence against him.”

Landry ignored him. “Where were you a week ago Sunday, Don? Sunday late in the day, say around six o’clock.”

Shapiro gave his client a look of warning. “Don’t answer that, Don.”

“Let me speculate,” Landry said. “With your friend Ms. Atwood, who has the amazing ability to be in two places at once?”

Jade glanced down. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You told me Ms. Atwood was with you Thursday night when Michael Berne’s horses were being set loose and a woman was being assaulted not fifty yards from your barn.”

Shapiro held a finger up. “Don’t say anything, Don.”

Landry went on. “The night Ms. Atwood was also seen in attendance at a charity ball in Palm Beach. Did you think we’d just take your word for it, Don? Or the lady’s, for that matter?”

“We got together after her event.”

“Don, don’t—”

“Oh.” Landry nodded. “You mean the same time she was also partying with friends at Au Bar?”

Jade sank back into his chair and rubbed his temples. “I don’t remember the time exactly—”

“You would have been smarter picking Jill for your alibi for Thursday night, after all,” Landry said. “She was willing to lie for you, and she was probably home alone at the time.”

Shapiro was up now, hovering behind his client. He leaned forward and said, “Mr. Jade has nothing to say to you on this subject or any other. We’re through here.”

Landry gave the lawyer a look. “Your client can still help himself out here, Mr. Shapiro. Don’t get me wrong. He’s in deep shit, but maybe he can still climb out of it and take a shower. His partner is still out there, running around loose. Maybe Don here wasn’t the one with the whip. Maybe the whole scheme was the partner’s idea. Maybe Don can help himself out giving us a name.”

Jade closed his eyes for a moment, inhaled and exhaled, composing himself. “I’m trying to be cooperative, Detective Landry,” he said, still struggling to be calm. “I don’t know anything about a kidnapping. Why would I risk doing something so insane?”

“For money.”

“I have a very good career. I have a very good situation with Trey Hughes at his new facility. I’m hardly desperate for money.”

Landry shrugged. “So maybe you’re just a psycho. I once knew a guy killed a woman and cut her tongue out just to see how far back it went in her throat.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Yes, it is, but I see that kind of thing all the time,” Landry said reasonably. “Now I see this deal: one girl dead, one girl missing, and a horse killed for the insurance money; and it all revolves around you, Mr. Jade.”

“But it doesn’t make sense,” Jade insisted. “I would have made good money on Stellar as a sales horse—”

“Provided you could get him sold. I understand he had some problems.”

“He would have sold eventually. In the meantime, I collected my training fee every month.”

“And you’ll collect your training fee for his replacement, too. Right?”

“Trey Hughes doesn’t have to wait to sell one horse to buy another.”

“That’s true. But I’ve learned over the years there are few people greedier and less patient than the rich. And you stand to make a big commission on the replacement horse. Isn’t that right?”

Jade sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gather himself. “I intend to have a long and happy working relationship with Trey Hughes. He’s going to buy and sell a lot of horses in that time. I’ll profit on all of them. That’s how the business works. So, why would I risk that by kidnapping someone? The risk would far outweigh any possible gain.

“If, on the other hand, I live a law-abiding life,” he went on. “I’m set to move into a beautiful new facility to train horses for people who will pay me a great deal of money. So you see, Detective Landry, you simply don’t have a case against me.”

“That’s not quite true, Don,” Landry said, pretending sadness.

Jade looked at Shapiro.

“What do you think you have, Landry?” Shapiro asked.

“I have ransom calls placed to the Seabright home on a prepaid cell phone purchased by Don Jade two weeks ago.”

Jade stared at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And do you have a witness who can positively identify Mr. Jade purchasing this phone?” Shapiro asked.

“I never purchased any phone,” Jade said, peeved with his attorney for making it sound like he had.

Landry kept his gaze on Jade. “I’ve got Erin Seabright, beaten and bloody and scared to death, telling me you’re responsible. It doesn’t get any more real than that, Don.”

Jade turned away and shook his head. “I had nothing to do with it.”

“You got greedy,” Landry said. “If you wanted her out of the way because she knew something about Stellar, you should have just killed her and dumped her body in a canal. You hold a hostage, things go wrong. People are unpredictable. You maybe wrote the script, but not everybody takes direction as well as a girl chained to a bed.”

Jade said nothing.

“Do you own property in the Wellington area, Mr. Jade?”

“That would be a matter of public record,” Shapiro said.

“Unless he put it in a partnership or a blind trust,” Landry pointed out. “Will you share that information with us or make us dig for it? Or should I ask Ms. Montgomery, who keeps track of all your little details?”

“I fail to see what this has to do with anything,” Shapiro said.

Again, Landry ignored him, his focus on Jade, watching every nuance of his expression. “Have you ever had any dealings with Bruce Seabright or Gryphon Development?”

“I know Gryphon Development is in charge of Fairfields, where Trey Hughes’ barn is going up.”

“Have you personally had any dealings with them?”

“I may have spoken with someone from their office once or twice.”

“Bruce Seabright?”

“I don’t recall.”

“How did Erin Seabright come to work for you?” Landry asked.

“Trey knew I was in need of a groom and told me about Erin.”

“How long have you been associated with Mr. Hughes?”

“I’ve known Trey for years. He brought his horses to me last year.”

“Shortly after the death of his mother?”

“That’s it,” Shapiro announced. “If you want to go on a fishing expedition, Detective Landry, I suggest you hire a boat. Come on, Don.”

Landry let them move for the door to the interview room, speaking only as Shapiro reached for the doorknob.

“I own a boat, Counselor,” he said. “And once I get a trophy on the line, I reel him in, fillet him, and fry him. I don’t care who he is or who his friends are or how long it takes.”

“Good for you,” Shapiro said, pulling open the door.

Dugan was standing on the other side with Armedgian and an assistant district attorney.

“You’re free to go, Mr. Shapiro,” Dugan said. “Your client, however, will be enjoying the county’s hospitality for what’s left of the night. Bail hearing tomorrow.”