Divine Intervention (21 page)

"How's Jasi?"

"Sleeping." There was a hint of anxiety in her voice.

"What about Walsh?"

He heard Natassia laugh softly.

"He's watching Jasi sleep," she answered. "I think he's just what she needs."

Walsh?

Ben wondered what Brandon Walsh could offer Jasi―besides heartache. Walsh wasn't like them. He didn't understand Jasi or her gift. She deserved someone who accepted her in every way, someone who believed in her.

"Ben?"

"Yeah, Natassia?"

"I checked Baker's financial statements. There's no indication that he paid Gibney blood money. No evidence of a murder conspiracy that I could find."

"Okay. I'll be at the hotel in about two hours," he told her.

Natassia's voice was faint. "That long?"

"Sorry, I have a stop to make first."

18

~ Kelowna, BC

Ben flew back to Kelowna in the Ops chopper.

Then he hopped in a taxi and gave the driver an address. Fifteen minutes later, the taxi rolled up next to 103 Dremner Boulevard. Remaining in the back seat, Ben flipped open his data-com.

"I need to make a call first," he told the cabby.

The phone was picked up on the fourth ring. The voice on the other end was small and timid.

"Yes?"

"Is Martin Gibney there?"

"No, Mister is out."

Ben recognized the voice. It belonged to the Asian housekeeper, Su-Lin.

"What about Mrs. Gibney?" he asked.

"Yes, yes!" Su-Lin said excitedly. "Mrs. Gi-ney right here. You want speak to her?"

"No. That's okay." He hung up.

Speaking to Lydia Gibney over the phone was not what Ben had in mind.

He paid the driver to wait for him, and then headed for the mansion. A soft, feminine voice answered the
H-SECS
intercom.

"
Si?
Can I help you?"

"Uh, CFBI, Mrs. Gibney. I need to speak with you." Ben held his badge up to the camera lens.

When the door opened, Gibney's wife stood in the entrance wearing a pair of faded jeans and a t-shirt. Her long coal-black hair was clipped back away from her face.

The woman looked like she was eighteen.

Not quite the high society wife, Ben thought.

He showed her his ID again. "Agent Benjamin Roberts. I spoke with your husband
yesterday."

"
Si.
Yes, I know. Martin mentioned that someone had stopped by. This is about Dr. Washburn's death. Is that correct?"

Her voice was soft, with a slight Spanish accent.

Ben accompanied Lydia Gibney through the house, past the sitting room where he and Gibney had sat the day before. Incense wafted from somewhere in the house and its sensual fragrance trailed after them. Sultry jazz filtered through hidden speakers in the ceiling.

Something caught Ben's attention.

A mood wall. The wall shifted gradually from peaceful aqua tones into shades of crimson as Lydia walked by.

Red, he knew, was the color of fear or extreme nervousness.

What was Lydia so afraid of? What did she know?

Ben followed her outside into the garden.

"Close deck door," she ordered loudly.

The door whispered behind them and closed.

She gave him an apologetic shrug. "I hope you don't mind, but I prefer being outdoors on a day like this."

Then she smiled and took the seat across from him.

Ben flicked on the data-com and clipped it to his jacket.

"No problem, Mrs. Gibney. I just have a few questions and, uh, some are of a rather sensitive nature."

The color drained from Lydia Gibney's face.

"What do you mean, a sensitive nature?"

He scooted forward, his voice calm. "We have the security disks from the Paloma. There are cameras everywhere."

He waited for his words to sink in.

When they did, the woman took a steadying breath, but it didn't stop the tremble in her voice.

"What exactly did the cameras see?"

Ben could sense her fear. He didn't envy her position. Having an affair was one thing. Getting caught was another. Her husband held a prominent position.

Lydia Gibney could lose everything.

"We know that you and Premier Allan Baker were having an affair," he remarked gently. "The cameras show you going into his hotel room the night of the party. We also have a witness who's seen the two of you together at other functions."

Lydia began to shake. Her dark eyes blinked back tears and she tossed a hasty glance over her shoulder.

"If Martin finds out―"

"Mrs. Gibney, I can't promise that we'll keep your name out of this, but if you can help us, give us some information…"

Lydia nodded slowly. "Allan and I have been, uh, seeing each other for the past year. Martin…doesn't know."

"When you left his room that night, what were you arguing about?"

"Martin had called while I was in Allan's room. He told Allan that they were going to fire Allan's father. Allan was very upset. He tried to get Martin to influence the board members, to keep his father on."

"Because he didn't want a scandal?"

"Allan was afraid that if the press caught wind of this, they would dredge up his past," Lydia answered, a distraught look in her eyes.

"You mean, why would Martin cover for Dr. Washburn for so many years?" Her voice was tinged with disgust. "My husband met Dr. Washburn years ago. Martin was still trying to pay off his university loans."

The woman hesitated, guilt engraved across her face. "I-I really shouldn't say anymore."

Ben cleared his throat, then said, "Mrs. Gibney, if you know something, you need to tell me. Or I'll be forced to go to your husband with the security disks."

Lydia released a long sigh. "Dr. Washburn came to Martin with a proposition. A month later they were operating an abortion clinic. Underground, of course. Most of their clientele had money―real money. That's how Martin paid off his debts."

Just as Ben had suspected. Abortion was the key.

Terminating a pregnancy was legal and had been for years, but Washburn and Gibney had been doing it on the sly―and charging big bucks.

"Why would your husband jeopardize his career?"

Lydia shrugged, then shook her head.

"Martin was easily influenced back then. Dr. Washburn held my husband's career in his hands. Another reason why Martin was forced to influence the board to keep him on. If Dr. Washburn had told the board what they had done, my husband would lose his job too. And probably end up in prison."

"Did Allan Baker know what his father had done?"

"I'm not sure. Allan never mentioned it. He rarely talked about the past…or his father. Allan was always afraid of his past. He used to say ghosts were chasing him."

"Did he say who or what those ghosts were?"

"Ghosts from his past." Her black eyes examined him intensely. "He was placed in foster care as a child. Did you know that?"

Ben nodded.

"Allan was placed with a woman who abused him terribly."

"Charlotte Foreman?" he asked, shocked.

"Yes, that was her name. She had four other foster children living with her during the time Allan was placed there. She was an animal, that woman. She would burn the children with cigarettes or on the stovetop when they refused to do what she asked them. She'd lock them in the shed for hours."

Lydia stood up, agitated and shaky.

When she finally spoke, her voice was hoarse and filled with emotion. "Can you imagine what that would do to a child, Agent Roberts?"

It could turn a kid into a cold-blooded murderer, Ben realized.

Aloud, he asked, "Was she responsible for burning Allan's hands?"

Lydia froze and her gaze drifted.

"His foster mother held them down on the stove burner. She accused him of stealing money from her emergency jar. Allan swears he never took a cent from that woman."

Ben tapped the arm of his chair, restlessly.

"On the night of the party what exactly were you and Baker arguing about?"

For a moment, Lydia said nothing. Her eyes pooled and she slumped back into the chair.

"Allan demanded that I get a quiet divorce―leave Martin. He wanted me to tell my husband about our affair but I told him that I couldn't do that to Martin."

Her voice wavered and her smile softened.

"My husband is a good man. He took me away from a dangerous world and gave me all this." She waved a hand in the air. "How could I possibly leave him after everything he has done for me?"

"What about Allan Baker?"

Ben knew that his question was inappropriate and unnecessary to his investigation, but he was curious.

The woman smiled sadly. "I love my husband, Agent Roberts. But Allan is…well…Allan."

Clasping her hands in her lap, she bent forward and asked, "Haven't you ever felt the excitement of being with someone you know you should stay away from? Someone forbidden to you?"

Lydia didn't wait for an answer.

Instead, she smiled calmly. "That's what it's like for me and Allan. It's strictly passion. Sex, if you like. Martin has, well,
problems
in that area."

Ben shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "So you left the hotel and came home to your husband?"

Lydia's gaze was incredulous, shocked.

"No," she admitted. "I didn't come straight home. Allan called me on his cell phone and apologized. I thought you knew that already."

That
was the cell call the security camera recorded, he realized.

Ben glanced at her sharply. "After your call to Baker, he left the hotel in a black BMW."

Lydia smiled mysteriously.

"Follow me, Agent Roberts."

She led him to a door on the side of the house. When she entered a security code the door opened, revealing a three-car garage. Parked in the middle stall, a Series 7 black BMW sedan gleamed expensively.

Ben drew a deep breath.

Baker, you son-of-a-bitch
!

The man
had
left the hotel and he had lied about it.

They had him!

Lydia's voice grew quiet, solemn. "Allan and I met in the back of the hotel."

"So where did you drop him off?" Ben asked, concealing his excitement.

She glanced up, confused. "I didn't drop him anywhere. I picked him up and we went back to the Golden Sands Motel on Lakeshore Drive. I wasn't comfortable going back to his hotel room. There were too many of Martin's friends at the gala."

Damn!

Baker had an alibi.

And, Ben realized miserably, it would be easy to verify it with the manager at the Golden Sands Motel.

"How long did Baker stay with you at the Golden Sands?" he asked, a final shot in the dark.

Lydia turned away, ashamed. "Until almost three in the morning."

That let Baker off the hook completely.

Son-of-a-bitch!
Allan Baker was innocent.

Ben clicked off his data-com, signaling that the interview was over.

"Here's my card," he said, scribbling his cell number on the back. "If you think of anything else, please get in touch with me. Thank you for your time, Mrs. Gibney."

Lydia Gibney escorted him to a garden gate, clutching the business card in her hand.

"Thank you, Agent Roberts―for your discretion."

He knew that the woman wanted nothing more than a guarantee that he wouldn't expose her affair with Allan Baker.

"You realize that the press will probably get wind of all this," he apologized. "I cant―"

"I know," she interrupted, holding up one hand. "Martin will find out. The house is wired with security cameras. He'll know you were here again."

Lydia swallowed hard. "I think I'll tell him tomorrow―before he hears about it on the news."

Ben smiled grimly, unsure of what to say.

"That's probably a good idea, Mrs. Gibney."

Without a word, the woman accompanied him down the sidewalk to the front yard. She waved goodbye, one hand shading her eyes from the sun.

Heading for the street, Ben was relieved to see that the taxi driver had waited. The driver was asleep. His baseball cap was pulled over his face to shade him from the hot sun.