Silenced (37 page)

Mina lifted her hand off the gurney and Ivy grabbed it. “Mina! It’s me, Ivy. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left you.”

Mina squeezed her hand, then dropped it.

“Blood pressure’s falling,” one of the medics said and finished putting her in the ambulance. They closed the doors and drove off.

Lucy watched the scene with Kate. As soon as Mina was gone, Kate walked over to Marti North, who was keeping the kids settled while they were checked out by the medics. Lucy and Ivy followed. “What happened?”

“He came in through the back. I should have canceled school, but I didn’t think we were in danger. He had a gun and forced me to tie up the children. I tried to make a game out of it, but they knew I was scared. Dammit, I spent three years in the Army and that bastard terrified me!”

“And then?”

“He used my phone to call Ivy, and of course she picked up.” Ivy clasped Marti’s hand.

Kate said, “You knew that the FBI was looking for Ivy, yet you kept her location a secret?”

“I didn’t trust the system. She doesn’t know who’s after her.”

“But she knows why,” Lucy said. She looked at Ivy.

“I didn’t know any of this would happen. All I wanted was to save my sister.”

“And you did,” Lucy said. “You made a decision and you’re willing to stand by it. I respect that. But you have to live with it and make it right. We need all the information you have.” She glanced at Marti. “And anything you can remember about the suspect.”

“He was shorter than me, not quite six feet tall, brown hair, blue eyes. He was wearing a blue polo shirt and his back was bleeding. He was really angry about it, I could tell he was in pain. He kept saying he wasn’t going to kill the kids, he just wanted Ivy. Like he was explaining and justifying his actions.

“He was getting antsy, worried about being caught,” Marti continued. “I had no idea there were two of them, until he started talking on his phone to another guy he called Ned. Mina wasn’t tied up—he wanted to be able to move her around, I think. As a hostage. He told Ned to shoot Ivy as soon as she approached the front. When Mina heard that, she screamed and tried to get his gun. He pushed her down—she practically flew across the room. She couldn’t get up, but he just shot her. Twice.”

“Why didn’t the stakeout team hear it?” Lucy said.

“We were in the back. It was a twenty-two. The kids started crying, and he seemed almost stunned that he’d done it. I thought she was dead. That’s when he set the fire. I think he was trying to make a smoke screen to escape, but it was too hot and the artwork caught on fire. He waited until the smoke was thick and went out the back and along the north side. It’s narrow, but the fence is wooden and easier to climb. He has to be cut up, though, from the barbed wire.”

“We’re looking for him. We need a full description, have you look at some mug sheets,” Kate said.

“I can do you one better.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. “I took his picture right after he shot Mina. It’s crooked because my hands were bound.”

Lucy and Kate looked at it. It only showed his profile, but it was certainly clear enough to distribute widely.

“Marti, you’re brilliant.” Kate sent the picture to everyone on the internal FBI distribution list, and a copy to her assistant at Quantico to resize, sharpen, and run through facial recognition.

Noah came up to the group. “The suspect out front is Theodore Abernathy. He has a record, served time. His known associates include his brother, Brian.” He pulled up a DMV photo. “Is this the man who shot Mina?”

Marti nodded. “That’s him.”

“Thanks. I’m getting this photo out to all hospitals and transportation hubs. How much time did he have?”

“He left about two minutes before you came in.”

Noah looked at his watch. “That gives him a twenty-minute head start.” He stepped away to call in the information.

Kate turned to Ivy. “Where’s your sister?”

Ivy hedged.

Kate snapped, “He could be going after her. Where is she?”

“I’ll tell you, but I have to come. She won’t trust anyone. She’s terrified, and last night she said if our father takes her, she’s going to kill herself. She’s still jittery from the drugs he was feeding her to keep her compliant. I’ll tell her it’s okay. She has to hear it from me.”

Matt Slater was listening to Ivy’s explanation. Before he said anything, Noah stepped back into the group. “Theodore and Brian Abernathy are the sons of Devon Sullivan from her first marriage.”

“Wendy James’s boss?”

“Josh Stein just got the search warrant for DSA based on the information we obtained about Park Way apartments and Betty Dare. Stein’s already on his way to her office, wants me to lead the team to search her house.” He looked at Slater. “Okay, boss?”

Slater nodded. “Go. Donovan, you’re point on this situation.”

Noah motioned for Lucy to talk to him in private. “Lucy, I’m sorry for being hard on you. It’s been a difficult week and I didn’t handle the pressure well. I have no excuse.”

“Noah, you stood up for me time and time again, knowing that if I screwed up you would be taking the heat. This case taught me more about FBI bureaucracy and personalities and conflicts that I could ever have learned in the Academy. And I did overstep my bounds, and it wasn’t the first time. It was just the first time you called me on it.”

Noah took both her hands and squeezed. “Good job. Go get Ivy’s sister and get her statement so we can keep her father away from her. Without it, legally he can take her back to his home.” He looked at his watch. “Our Baltimore agent said she was meeting him at headquarters at eight, but he was late.”

“I’ll call her and fill her in.” It was nearly nine.

Noah left and Lucy turned to Ivy. “Let’s get your sister.”

Kate said, “Matt, we need a pair of agents—can you spare two?”

“I’ll join you and pull Spencer with me. My guys have this contained. Ms. North, we’ll need you to make an official statement, if you’ll talk to that agent over there who’s with your custodian. We’ve also contacted the parents; you’ll probably have your hands full.”

*   *   *

Sara sat in the small room above the rectory, reading. Reading was her escape. At home, she read a book a day. She loved historical fiction, rich with beautiful words and dashing knights and fair maidens. She particularly loved Merlin and King Arthur and had read every variation of the stories she could find. She’d read
The Crystal Cave
by Mary Stewart a dozen times and never grew tired of it. Father Harris didn’t have a copy, and all the books Ivy had bought for her had burned with the house. But Father Harris had given her four books by J.R.R. Tolkien, and she was already done with
The Hobbit
and halfway finished with
Lord of the Rings.

Books had enabled her to survive during these dark months. She realized that reading while her sister was meeting with the man who wanted to kill her was not a sane thing to do. But if she didn’t read, she’d panic out of fear for the one person who had done everything to save her. So she read more, faster, drowning out the doubts and anxiety that crept in.

She jumped when she heard sirens. Lots of sirens. They weren’t coming here, but His Grace Church was only a few blocks away.

She ran down the stairs, searching for Father Paul. He wasn’t in the rectory. She ran across the courtyard, stumbling over a bench. She fell hard on her knees, the book skittering from her hand.

Sara jumped up and retrieved the book, brushing dirt from its pages.

“Hello, Sara.”

She froze.

Slowly, she turned her gaze until she met the cold blue eyes of the monster himself.

“Daddy.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

For people who were security conscious, the Jagers were very predictable.

Sean didn’t think they were very good criminals. He disabled the security cameras and used a standard lock-pick on the back door since the front was bolted and getting in that way would have required visible force. He didn’t want them to know anyone had been here until they checked on the locket.

Sean quickly assessed that the house was empty. There were two dogs—small Pomeranians who yapped up a storm when they saw him, but they were locked behind a child safety gate in the family room, where a dog door led to a small dog run. As soon as Sean disappeared from sight, they forgot about him and the house became silent again.

The Jagers had adjoining libraries, both bigger than most New York apartments. They, and the master suite, filled the east wing of the sprawling ranch-style home.

Devon’s library had pictures of her with, it seemed, everyone she’d ever met. In fact, there were more photos than books on the shelves. They filled the walls and all the surfaces. Her desk was glass and had no storage. She had a locked file cabinet built into the wall.

Sean pulled out his pocket computer and ran a program to detect hidden wires or trips in the room. There were none.

The file cabinet opened easily enough with the right tool, and Sean searched the contents. He smiled.

Devon Sullivan had files on every person she’d blackmailed. What she knew, how she knew it, how she used it or if she had plans to use the intel. There were hundreds of files in alphabetical order by last name. This was an FBI wet dream.

He immediately went to P for Paxton. There was a file.

Could it be this easy?

He pulled it out and opened it.

It was empty.

But judging from the permanent bulge in the folder, there had been a thick stack of paper in here at one point. Why had Sullivan removed it? Had the locket been in here?

Shit.

He skimmed the other names. He recognized a few—judges, politicians, law enforcement, business owners, union leaders, nonprofits—Devon Sullivan was one busy, busy lady. Sean would have loved to have photographed every file, but he needed to find the locket, so he only looked for specific names. Like his.

He had no file in the drawer, nor did any other Rogan. There was nothing on Wendy James or Hannah Edmonds/Ivy Harris, which was smart if Sullivan was the one who ordered them dead. He found Judge Robert Morgan and pulled the file. It wasn’t thick.

He opened it, took one look, and closed it.

Inside was an explicit photograph of the naked Morgan with Ivy Harris. Morgan was a hermaphrodite.

He put the file back.

If Sullivan blackmailed him for some reason—such as to rule on the side of the killer her husband was defending—with this photo, Sean could see how a distinguished judge might be driven to suicide. He didn’t want his condition revealed to the public, but he couldn’t let a killer walk free.

Sean went from disliking Sullivan to hating her.

It was close to nine and if Paxton was true to his word, he’d be calling Noah at nine. Even if they raided the place immediately, it would take them at least forty minutes to get here, realistically closer to an hour. Sean didn’t want to be here that long. He was about to close the drawer when he saw a very familiar name.

KINCAID, LUCY

Sean pulled the file and shut the drawer.

Inside was a complete copy of Lucy’s FBI file, more complete than the one Paxton had. There was also a disk labeled with a date seven years ago.

Sean’s pulse sped up. His hands clutched the file so tight he left marks. He put the entire file in his satchel. No way was he leaving it behind.

Lucy’s file was marked high clearance. Someone had copied the file for Sullivan. Who wanted to destroy Lucy? Who was in a position to do so? Why?

Sean needed to find the locket and get out. Devon Sullivan didn’t have it in her drawer of secrets, so he went to Clark Jager’s adjoining office. The space was darker and cooler, there were very few photographs, and the bookshelves were filled with books—90 percent law and nonfiction.

Trying to think like Jager, Sean quickly went through the room looking for a safe. Jager wasn’t the type of man to leave incriminating evidence in an easy-to-open cabinet.

Sean was right. He found the safe behind a picture of Jager and Sullivan on their wedding day.

It had the best security in the house.

“Damn.”

He took out his tools and got to work cracking the safe. It was going to take him at least ten minutes.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

As soon as Slater pulled up in front of St. Anne’s church, Ivy began to panic. “He’s here.”

“Your father?” Lucy asked, surprised.

“That car—that’s his car! The driver—that’s Foster. I don’t know if that’s his first or last name, but he’s been my father’s right hand since before I ran away.”

She opened the door and Kate pulled it closed again. “Ivy, listen to me. We’re not going to let him take her. Got it? You have to let us do our job.”

But Ivy was becoming hysterical. Kate slapped handcuffs on her and attached them to the handle. “I’m really sorry, but we can’t worry about protecting you while dealing with this situation.”

Slater said, “Spence, detain the driver.”

“Yes, sir.” He got out of the vehicle.

“Donovan, what are we looking at in there?”

“Any number of people. The priest. Sara—” she turned to Ivy. “Where was Sara this morning?”

“In the rectory. There’s a small room in the attic where we’ve been staying. I told her not to leave it under any circumstances. The only way to the rectory is through the church and the courtyard.”

Slater called in another team then said, “Let’s do this. Donovan, based on this guy’s track record, he probably isn’t going to listen to a woman. I’ll do the talking. You keep your sights on him. If he shows a weapon and makes any threatening moves, you have clearance to drop him. Lucy, you focus on the minor. First opportunity, bring her out.”

“Yes, sir.”

“How did he know we were here?” Ivy said. “No one knew. No one until you showed up this morning. Did you tell him? Dammit, I knew I shouldn’t trust you!”

“It didn’t come from my office,” Slater said emphatically. “We’ll find out exactly where the breach occurred and, believe me, if anyone turned that little girl over to a man who abused her, I will destroy their career.” He caught Ivy’s eye. “Do you believe me?”