Silenced (25 page)

“You’re lying,” he said. But in his gut, he knew something was wrong. He remembered how Lucy had avoided eye contact at the hospital. What had he asked her? What had made her hedge?

What had Lucy not told him?

“When Adam Scott killed my daughter, he kept her locket as a sick reminder of his perversion. The reason Roger Morton came to Washington, DC, was to bring my contact a box of jewelry that he was led to believe was worth a small fortune. But the box was recovered by the FBI.

“Lucy recognized the items for what they were—the sick souvenirs of a cowardly bastard. Monetarily, they were worth next to nothing. Emotionally, they are priceless. She gave me Monique’s locket with a note. It read, ‘I know the truth. This belongs to you.’”

“That doesn’t incriminate you or her.” Sean couldn’t help but think he was missing something, but on the surface, those two sentences meant nothing.

“In context, it means everything. I need to find out who stole my locket. I need to know what the blackmailers know. If they’re jerking me around, or if they have inside information. The FBI already knows about Ivy, and I’m going to give them another important clue.”

Sean put his hands behind his neck to give them something to do other than strangle Paxton. “You’re playing a fucking game when
five people are dead
?”

“That had nothing to do with me.” Paxton pounded his fist on the desk. Sean had never seen him lose his temper so abruptly. “I couldn’t have stopped those murders! As soon as I found out that Chris and Jocelyn Taylor were murdered, I called Noah Armstrong. He’ll know everything I do—”

“Except that you hired me to do the background on Ivy Harris.”

“I had to verify her story.”

Sean didn’t know what to think or believe. Paxton was a manipulative bastard whose penchant for playing God now affected the woman he loved.

“No one is going to believe Lucy knew you killed that bastard rapist. Mallory already confessed.”

“I’m trying to explain!” Paxton slowly rose from his chair and leaned over Sean.

“You think she got into the Academy because of the second interview?” Paxton grinned snidely and shook his head. “
I
made it happen.”

Before he could say any more, Paxton’s phone buzzed. He answered it. “Thank you, Ann. I’ll let you know when I’m ready for him.” He hung up. “Noah’s here.”

“Bring him in. See what he thinks.”

“Dammit, Rogan, you’re too stubborn for your own good.” He ran a hand through his thick gray hair. Paxton pointed to a door. “Go in there.”

“Why?”

“Can you trust me on this?”

“No.”

But now Sean was curious. He opened the door. It was a deep closet with plenty of room for someone to stand comfortably. He wondered how many people had eavesdropped from this small room.

He stared at the senator, torn.

Then he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Noah spoke to Lucy on his cell while he waited for Senator Paxton. He didn’t like waiting, especially since Paxton had called him, but was glad he had the opportunity to verify that Lucy had no serious injuries.

Lucy was emphatic that the murder of Wendy James was connected to the other crime scenes, and she made a compelling case, but what Slater said earlier was still true: They had no hard evidence.

“You’re taking the rest of the day off,” Noah told Lucy over the phone.

“Is that an order?”

“Yes. I’ll stop by later. Where will you be?”

“Home, where else?”

“I assumed Sean would take you to his place.”

“Oh. Maybe. Kate’s here now.”

Noah was surprised Sean wasn’t glued to her side. He hoped the hotheaded Rogan didn’t do something unwise, like try and find the driver of the van. Noah wouldn’t put it past him.

“Don’t work too hard,” he told Lucy.

“You just ordered me to take the day off.”

“Were you going to obey me?”

She laughed. “No. But I will stay at home. I don’t think Kate is going to take me anywhere else.”

“Good. If you’re compelled to do anything, write up a report on the accident. I need to debrief you anyway, and putting it on paper will help you remember the details. And I’ll have a courier bring over a copy of the James file for you to review. I have two analysts going over everything we’ve uncovered, but you have a different perspective.”

“I can’t wait.”

She sounded excited about paperwork. She’d be the first, Noah thought. “I also want to get your assessment on the suspect.”

“I already told you I didn’t get a good look at him, but his van will be damaged.”

“I meant Hannah Edmonds, aka Ivy Harris.”

“Ivy isn’t her name?”

“No. She’s the daughter of televangelist Kirk Edmonds.”

“I’ve never heard of him. Why did you call her a suspect?”

“She is a person of interest in the kidnapping of Sara Edmonds.”

“Sara? Mrs. Neel said her sister was named Mina.”

“I’m going to talk to Mrs. Neel shortly, but I think Mina and Sara are two different girls. One a prostitute, the other the missing daughter of Reverend Edmonds. I’ll send everything I know so you can get up to speed.”

“You don’t know that she kidnapped her sister. Sara could have run away.”

“But we won’t know until we talk to her. She’s a fourteen-year-old girl who was living for the last ten days in a house with known prostitutes, two of whom are dead.”

“Ivy was extremely protective of her sister. If you find her, she’s going to be difficult to talk to. Get someone like Hans to work with her.”

“You were with her for less than ten minutes. I don’t think that’s enough to judge.”

“It’s more than enough.”

Paxton opened his door and waved at Noah. He said to Lucy, “I have to go. Just read the file and then we’ll talk.” He hung up and walked over to shake Paxton’s hand.

“Senator.”

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Agent Armstrong, it was one of those calls that’s hard to get off. Please come in.”

Paxton closed the door and sat down behind his antique desk. He motioned for Noah to take a seat across from him.

Noah glanced around the room before he sat, getting a snapshot assessment of Paxton. He’d been here before, months ago. Standard Senate office—large, ornate, stately.

“I’ve debated with myself whether to call ever since I heard that Alan’s mistress was murdered.”

Noah was certainly curious, but he couldn’t imagine what Paxton had to say. “I can’t discuss the investigation with you. I thought you wanted to talk about Chris Taylor.”

“I did want to inquire about the status of your investigation, but when Detective Reid came by this morning with Lucy, I was under the impression that it was a Metro Police investigation, not federal.”

“We’re working with them.” Stockton hadn’t officially released the information that the FBI had taken over the case. That situation was still being smoothed over with DC Metro, as best as could be done under the circumstances.

“I’m not proud of my actions, but I don’t regret them. Unless what I did led to that poor girl’s death.”

The hair on Noah’s skin vibrated with energy. It was the same feeling he’d had in the Air Force when he sensed something was amiss. Noah homed in on Paxton’s carefully chosen words.

What I did led to the poor girl’s death.

“Explain.”

“It’s no secret Alan and I don’t get along. Frankly, I think he’s a pig. Everyone in the building knows he’s cheated on his wife. And most everyone looks the other way. It’s like infidelity is a misdemeanor. But if someone can’t respect his marital vows, how can he respect promises to his constituents? If he can lie to his wife, it must be that much easier to lie to the American people.”

“Senator, I’m not interested in a campaign speech.”

Paxton’s cheek twitched with irritation.

“I was the anonymous source who gave the pictures of Alan and Ms. James to the tabloid.”

The confession surprised Noah. He had to pause before he could ask a question without stammering.

“You told the press about the affair?”

Paxton waved his hand in the air as if swatting a fly. “The press already knew. But they didn’t have proof. It’s sad that to run with the story, they wanted sordid photographs.”

“Which you provided.”

“I did.”

“I have a hard time believing you followed Congressman Crowley.”

“I didn’t. I hired a professional. Don’t be so skeptical, Agent Armstrong. Husbands and wives do it to each other all the time. If Janet Crowley had hired a private investigator to get photos of her husband’s infidelity in order to divorce that bastard, no one would think twice.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Why do you think?”

Noah didn’t answer the question. He stared at Paxton until he answered.

“Alan’s a prick.”

“He’s in your political party.”

Paxton laughed heartily, then cleared his throat. “After California went through their redistricting, Alan was gerrymandered into a much different seat, one that would be far more outraged about his infidelity. I have a protégé who can defeat him in the primary, but it would be costly. I would much rather have him resign over the affair.”

“You did this as a campaign stunt?”

“Stunt? Hardly the right word. I did it because he’s a jerk. He’s talking about running for U.S. Senate and I don’t want him on my side of the building.”

“And you don’t feel an ounce of remorse for what happened to Wendy James?”

“If she was killed because I exposed the truth, I sincerely regret it. But however much I despise Alan Crowley, however much I
want
him to be guilty, he’s not a killer, or a rapist.”

“She wasn’t raped.”

Paxton said, “The press reported there was an attempted rape.”

“The press isn’t always right.”

Paxton visibly relaxed. “Good.”

“Good?”

“It’s tragic she was killed. She was a young, beautiful woman with her whole life ahead of her, regardless of the mistakes she made. But to be raped and then murdered is the most vile crime that can be committed on a woman. There’s a special place in Hell for men like that.”

Noah hoped there was a special place in Hell for puppeteers like Paxton. He wished there was some way he could officially bring Paxton in for questioning. He could probably think of something—withholding information from the FBI for one, because he suspected there was more to this story than Paxton had told—but his actions would be out of spite.

The truth was hard to argue against.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Sean stepped out of the closet. He didn’t know how he felt about what he had just heard. He understood Paxton’s motives—he’d done similar things, exposing people who deserved it while keeping his own hands clean. He’d learned the hard way that gloating could get him in trouble.

He didn’t want to like Paxton. He
didn’t
like Paxton. But he understood him.

What he didn’t understand was how Paxton could hurt Lucy. She would be devastated if she found out that Paxton had pulled strings to get her into the FBI Academy. And if he was determined to be corrupt, her career would be tainted. If that note she allegedly wrote came out, the media, or the FBI, could make it sound like anything they wanted. Even if it
was
innocuous, they could make it appear like she was keeping Paxton’s secret—accessory after the fact—so that she could get his help. She had made it very well known that all she wanted was to be an FBI agent. The people in charge could even make it look like Paxton got her in so he could have his own bought-and-paid-for agent.

“Now do you understand?”

Sean had been trying to put together the information Paxton had given him earlier with what he said to Noah. “What do the note and locket have to do with exposing Crowley?”

“It has everything to do with it. The locket disappeared
after
I turned over the photographs to the press.”

“Coincidence?”

“No. I was threatened. If I didn’t back off, the caller would expose the secrets of the locket. The thing is, there are no secrets. It belonged to my daughter. It’s all I have left of her. I want it back. But if they know about Morton—if that’s what they meant about ‘secret,’ then I can’t risk exposure.”

“But you killed him,” Sean said matter-of-factly.

“Lucy will be irreparably damaged as well. I’m not willing to take the risk. Are you?”

“You bastard. You’ve dirtied her entire career.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic, Rogan. I’m going to set things right. I always do.” He almost sounded pained, but Paxton was a politician and a liar. He didn’t care about what happened to Lucy.

“Who else knows about the note?”

“No one. At least, no one knows Lucy wrote the message. But several people know she had the locket. Noah Armstrong gave her Adam Scott’s box and told her to make the decision about whether his victims’ families would want the items back. She worked with the FBI to locate the families and wrote them letters.”

Sean hadn’t known. Six months ago, he and Lucy had just started seeing each other. He shouldn’t be hurt she hadn’t included him, but he was. The experience must have been extremely painful and difficult for her, in light of the fact Adam Scott had kidnapped, raped, and nearly killed her. Yet she worked with Noah on it.

Sean didn’t want to help Senator Paxton, but did he really have a choice? Even if the note could never be linked to her, Paxton’s unspoken threat to reveal that he’d pulled strings to get Lucy into the Academy hit home.

“Whoever took the locket has access to your office,” Sean said.

“I’ve already had you run background checks on everyone I thought might have done it—”

“I’ll run background checks on
everyone
who’s come in and out of your office.”

Paxton reluctantly agreed. “Very well. I have a window as to when it went missing. I’ll get you my appointment books. But Sergio Russo already went through—”

“Sergio Russo isn’t me.”

“I’ll get you everything you need first thing in the morning.”