No One Left to Tell (63 page)

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t know. I think part of me wanted to finish the investigation myself, you know, to have my ducks in a row. But the other part of me doesn’t trust Hyatt either.’ She leaned forward to retrieve the laptop from her backpack, then glanced over at him. ‘Are we really staying with Joseph tonight?’

‘No. We’ll stay at my mother’s. She can stay in the main house with Jack and Katherine. Joseph has the property locked down tighter than Fort Knox.’

‘Will she mind Peabody coming with us?’

‘When she hears the dog bit Silas, she’ll probably go out and buy him a bone.’

‘He did good today. And I’d have shot that bitch Morton myself if she’d hurt him.’

‘I’d have helped you.’ His cell began to buzz. ‘I don’t recognize this number.’

‘The last time that happened, it was very bad.’

That was an understatement. ‘This is Smith,’ he answered cautiously.

‘This is Thomas Thorne. I’m a block away from Stevie’s house and there are cops all over the damn place. What the hell’s going on?’

‘Silas Dandridge held Stevie, her daughter and her sister hostage. He’s dead.’

Thorne hissed a curse. ‘Did Stevie have to do it?’

‘No. She shot him, but the kill shot was done by one of the other cops. She’s too rattled to meet us. Is there somewhere else we can talk?’

‘Come to my club, Sheidalin. My office is soundproofed. Nobody will bother us.’

‘Did you get any information on Bob Bond’s old law firm?’

‘If I did, would you care how I got it?’

‘Of course. But I’m getting very good at forgetting things. Who are you, again?’

Thorne laughed, a big booming sound. ‘Fine. I got the list of current employees, along with personnel files and photos. Meet me at Sheidalin and we’ll sort through it.’

‘Thanks.’ Grayson hung up and did a U-turn at the next light. ‘We’re going clubbing.’

Paige looked down at her
gi
. ‘I’ll look like I’m made up for Halloween.’

‘Based on what I’ve heard about this place, you’ll fit right in.’ He pointed to the laptop. ‘You left off at 1991. Where are the rest of the women who were MAC girls?’

‘Susan McFarland, 1991.’ A few minutes later she sighed. ‘Dead. Suicide.’

‘I’ll call Lucy Trask,’ he said. ‘You can give her the names of the autopsy reports we need so far. At least she can get started. Keep going. There are only six left.’

Thursday, April 7, 7.00
P.M
.

Silas was dead. Goddammit.

He stood looking down at Violet Dandridge, still breathing evenly, still in a deep sleep. He could kill her now but he had no idea what Silas had told the cops before he was shot. If Silas had named names . . .
they’ll come after me. They could be on their way already. I’ll need a trade
. A seven-year-old girl would make a good trade.

If it came to that, of course. If Silas had said nothing, there was nothing to fear.

He hit speed-dial nine on his cell. He’d have to change the speed-dial settings. He no longer needed Silas, Roscoe ‘Jesse’ James, or Harlan Kapansky. Speed-dial nine could move up. Maybe even become speed-dial one.

‘What?’

‘We need to work on your telephone etiquette skills,’ he murmured. ‘What did Silas say before he died?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Good to know.’ Very good. Now his main concern was that state’s attorney and his PI who continued to dig up what was best left buried.

‘Except that someone had taken his kid. Was it you?’

He glanced down at Violet. ‘Not your business. I have an assignment for you.’

There was hesitation. ‘I did what you wanted.’

‘And you’ll continue to do so. That’s how this works. Silas had his Violet. You have your Christopher. He’s what . . . twelve by now? Is he still walking with crutches? Sad, sad thing, that hit-and-run,’ he said mockingly. ‘Did they ever catch who did it?’

The swallow was audible. The tone impotent fury. ‘What do you want me to do?’

‘I’m so glad we understand each other. People with families are so predictable, I’ve found. Grayson has a mother. Call me when you have her in your sights.’

Thursday, April 7, 7.45
P.M
.

‘One,’ Paige said quietly. ‘One is still alive. Out of sixteen years. Sixteen girls.’

They’d parked in front of Thorne’s club, where they sat, stunned. ‘Who’s still alive?’ Grayson asked.

‘Her name is Adele Shaffer, maiden name was Masterson. She married Darren Shaffer six years ago and they have a little girl, Allison. Darren had been working for an overseas company until last year when they moved back. Adele is the only one left.’

‘Let’s get the law firm’s personnel list from Thorne and then we’ll find her. Warn her. And find out what the hell happened when she was twelve.’

‘What about Peabody?’ Paige asked when they got out of the car.

‘Do sharp noises bother him? Like cracking whips?’

She swung her backpack to her shoulder, her eyes wide. ‘Not that I know of.’

‘Then he’ll be fine.’ He snapped Peabody’s leash on his collar. ‘Let’s go.’

The club was dark, the music loud, and the bouncer was freaking enormous. His nametag said
Ming
. He let them in, not giving her
gi
or Peabody a second glance.

‘I was told to expect you,’ Ming said. ‘Thorne’s office is the first door on the right.’

The office door opened and Paige found herself craning her neck to look up. Thomas Thorne was bigger than the bouncer. He had to be six-six and exuded a dangerous sexuality. It was a wonder he didn’t have a dozen women pawing him.

There was only one woman with him and she wasn’t doing any pawing. She was typing into a computer and scowling at the screen.

‘I’m Thomas Thorne,’ he said, shaking Paige’s hand. ‘This is my business partner, Gwyn Weaver. Gwyn, State’s Attorney Grayson Smith and his PI, Paige Holden.’

Gwyn was a tiny brunette who would have been beautiful without the angry frown. ‘Nice to meet you. Nicer if you could figure out what’s wrong with my spreadsheet.’

‘Take a walk,’ Thorne told her. ‘You always find the glitch after you’ve had a walk.’

Gwyn rolled her eyes. ‘Which is Thorne’s way of telling me to get lost.’ She left the office, her scowl still firmly locked in place. Paige wondered if she scowled all the time.

Thorne closed the door behind her. ‘Sorry about that. Gwyn’s not been herself for a while.’ He pointed to the small table in the corner. ‘Let’s sit.’

‘You have the personnel lists from Bond’s law firm?’ Grayson asked.

‘I said I did.’ Thorne regarded Grayson with some suspicion. ‘I have to say, though, I was surprised when Stevie approached me.’

‘How so?’ Grayson asked. The two men, normally on opposite sides of the legal table, assessed one another. Paige wanted to snap at them to hurry up, but realized it wasn’t easy for Grayson to trust a defense attorney so she swallowed her impatience.

‘I wasn’t all that surprised to hear there was case fixing in the prosecutor’s office,’ Thorne said. ‘I’ve wondered a few times, but never had any proof. And before you ask, I never have, never will fix a case or use illegal means to defend a client.’

‘I wouldn’t be here if I thought you would. So what did surprise you?’

‘Well, that Bond’s firm is suspected of involvement, for one. They’re an old firm with an excellent reputation. But mostly I was surprised to hear that it was you who wanted the information, Smith. I expected you to insist on a subpoena.’

Grayson flushed, but didn’t look away. ‘I’m within my rights to request a list of personnel with employment dates, but people are dying,’ he said harshly. ‘We can’t afford to delay and we can’t afford for this firm to know we’re looking at them. Not yet. Stevie and I needed someone that an employee inside a defense firm would trust enough to give personnel files to. We figured they’d trust another defense attorney. We needed someone we could trust not to share that we’d asked for the information to begin with. Stevie trusts you, so I will too. For now. For this.’

This seemed to satisfy Thorne, who slid a folder across the table. ‘These are current employees of Bob Bond’s firm who also worked there at the time of Crystal Jones’s murder, sorted by gender. Stevie said you were looking for a man.’

The folder was full of employees’ personnel records and photos, all male.

‘Jackpot,’ Paige murmured. ‘Do you know any of these guys, Thorne?’

‘One of the partners,’ he said. ‘He’s arrogant, but a crook, fixing cases? I wouldn’t have thought so. I know several of the junior partners. None of them stand out as criminal.’

Paige began with the photos. Including partners, junior partners, clerks, paralegals, and office administrators, there were dozens. ‘We figure the guy who paid Sandoval was about six feet,’ she said. ‘That narrows the list of employees considerably.’

‘The man who paid Sandoval might not be the lawyer we’re looking for,’ Grayson cautioned. ‘Anderson said he was probably one of Bond’s flunkies.’

‘And maybe he was,’ Paige said, not looking up from the photos. ‘But he was important enough to get Sandoval killed for keeping his picture and Elena killed for stealing it, which makes me doubt he was a flunky.’

‘You could be right,’ Grayson said. ‘It’s certainly a place to start.’ They compared the builds of the lawyers to those of the man in the Sandoval photo, whittling the pack down to ten. ‘I wish the photo included their hands,’ he said. ‘The guy who paid off Sandoval got regular manicures.’

‘And wore a pinky ring,’ Paige added. ‘At least back then. We’ve got ten possibles here. We can run with ten, get backgrounds.’

‘I’ll go back to my source inside the firm, find out about these ten,’ Thorne said. ‘But it’s possible that whoever brokered the court deals doesn’t work there anymore.’

‘We know.’ Paige thought of Violet. The lawyer who’d brokered all the deals between Anderson and Bob Bond had compelled Silas to kill for him many times.
To kill us because we’re too close
. Now the lawyer had Violet.
Violet could already be dead
. ‘We’ll check out the ten and if we come up with nothing, we’ll look at the others who work for the firm.’

The office door opened and a woman came in. Paige found herself openly staring. The woman didn’t wear tailored slacks and an elegant silk blouse as Gwyn had. Her dress, what there was of it, was black leather. Her blue eyes were heavily outlined in black and her strawberry-blond hair was streaked with purple.

Grayson blinked. ‘Lucy? I’d heard about this place, but didn’t expect you to be here. Or to look like that.’

‘You’re the ME?’ Paige asked incredulously. ‘Lucy Trask?’

The woman nodded. ‘That would be me. You must be Paige. I’m so glad to—’

‘Why are you here?’ Thorne interrupted. ‘Why aren’t you with JD at the hospital?’

‘Because JD made me leave. Said there were too many germs in the hospital and it’s not good for the—’ Lucy stopped abruptly and rolled her eyes when Thorne grinned.

‘Yes?’ the big man asked. ‘Anything you’d like to share with the class?’

‘It’s supposed to be a secret,’ Lucy grumbled, her cheeks heating.

Grayson bit back a smile. ‘We won’t tell anyone.’

‘Not a word,’ Paige promised for the second time that day.

‘I make no such promise,’ Thorne declared, then sobered. ‘How is JD?’

‘Asleep. He was trying to be all macho and wouldn’t take the pain pill the nurse kept telling him to take. I promised to leave for a few germ-free hours if he’d take the damn pill, so he finally did. It’s farther to go home than come here, so I’ll hang here for a few hours, then I’ll sneak back in and sit with him.’

She turned to Paige with a grateful smile. ‘As I was
saying
, I’m so glad you’re here. I wanted to thank you in person. JD told me how you tended him this afternoon. He gave me a message for you. If it’s inappropriate, blame him, not me. He told me to tell you, “You show me yours and I’ll show you mine”.’

Paige smiled. ‘He means scars. I’ve got one on my shoulder. I’m glad he’s okay.’

‘Me too,’ Lucy said fervently. ‘He’s more worried about Stevie.’

‘She’ll be okay,’ Grayson said. ‘Eventually.’ He sighed. ‘I hope. Did you have a chance to check those autopsy records for us?’

‘I did.’ Lucy opened her leather handbag and pulled out a CD. ‘Here are the reports. The hospital has wi-fi so I was able to download them while I was sitting with JD in his room. All your suicides tested positive for barbiturates. Three were found hanged. The rest were ruled intentional overdoses.’

‘Hanged like Sandoval?’ Grayson asked.

‘No. Sandoval had been repeatedly denied oxygen. These women weren’t tortured in any way. Just drugged and hanged.’

Thorne frowned. ‘Is it possible that any of them drugged and hung themselves?’

‘Possible, but unlikely. They were probably unconscious before they were hung, or at least drugged enough to offer no resistance. I can’t see the victims being able to step on a stool and get the noose around their own necks.’

‘Why didn’t this come up before?’ Paige asked. ‘Why did no one notice?’

‘No one was looking for patterns, but barbiturates at that level should have raised flags.’ Lucy sighed. ‘The autopsies were done by the same doctor, who died last year.’

‘Of course she did,’ Paige muttered.

‘She quit the ME’s office, moved to New Orleans and got a job waiting tables. A month later she didn’t show up to work. They found her dead in her car, in her own garage. Carbon-monoxide poisoning. A week later. Nobody had missed her.’

‘I remember when that happened,’ Thorne said. ‘You took off time for her funeral.’

‘My boss and I went, out of respect. We were the only people there. It was so incredibly sad. No one knew why she’d killed herself, but we weren’t all that surprised. She had always been darker than the rest of us, always preoccupied. We just thought she wasn’t suited for ME work. Not everyone is.’

‘Did she have barbiturates in her system too?’ Grayson asked.