Sweet Dreams Boxed Set (17 page)

Matt was five minutes late and Dean met him at the guard desk. “Huang is sitting in an interview room. I want him to sit for a few more minutes, though I think sending two agents to fetch him was enough to get him to talk. He’s as straight-laced as they come. Did you talk to Alex?”

“Yes. It’s all good, we cleared the air.”

“So Hart lied to her. I’m concerned that he knows what she’s doing.”

“How?” Matt shook his head. “Truthfully, I’ve heard the rumor about Sharon before, the one he spoon fed to Alex. It came out during the election, though not publicly.”

“Tell her my offer still stands. I can place her in the Bureau as a civilian—or get her into the Academy, if she wants to be an agent.”

Matt didn’t want that. He didn’t want Alex three thousand miles away. Especially after last night. And the Bureau could assign her anywhere—there were over fifty FBI offices in the country.

But, it wasn’t his call. Alex would have to make the decision herself.

Dean said, “You need to put your feelings aside, Matt. I’m telling you this as a friend—you’re emotionally involved, and that’s going to compromise this case if you go off half-cocked on Hart or anyone else.”

“That’s not me, Dean. You know that. Alex is solid. And we both have her back.”

“After what happened last summer, I wouldn’t blame you for wanting her to decline Hart’s offer.”

“I don’t want her in there because I don’t trust him, but this is a rare opportunity. We need to find a way to keep a better eye on her, though, in case she needs assistance.”

“I’m hoping after Huang, we won’t need Alex to go undercover. You ready?” Dean asked.

“Let’s do it.”

Eric Huang jumped when they walked into the interview room. He wasn’t handcuffed, he’d been given water and coffee, but he looked terrified.

“Thank you for coming in, Mr. Huang,” Dean said and sat down. “I’m Dean Hooper, Assistant Special Agent in Charge. This is Matt Elliott, Sacramento County District Attorney. I’m sorry you had to wait. Mr. Elliott was stuck in traffic. Do you need anything? More water?”

Huang had both hands wrapped around his water bottle. “No, thank you. I don’t understand why I’m here. The agents who came to my house said I wasn’t under arrest, but it didn’t seem I had a choice. They said it was about the shooting,  but wouldn’t let me call my boss.”

“I’m hoping to be done here quickly, but I wanted to talk to you before you speak to Mr. Hart.”

“I told the police everything I remember. Believe me, I’ve been reliving that moment since it happened.”

“We have your statement, and it’s consistent with the evidence. But we’re investigating another line of inquiry. We believe that you were the target of Monday assassination attempt. Do you know anyone who might want you dead, Mr. Huang?”

His face paled. “That’s—that’s ridiculous. I don’t have enemies. Who would hurt me? That makes no sense.” He paused. “The detective asked me if I had enemies, and I don’t. You can ask him. I haven’t done anything wrong, have I?”

“No, Mr. Huang,” Dean assured him. “But our crime lab has analyzed the crime scene, and we believe that the shooter was aiming at you, not Mr. Hart.”

“That—I—I don’t understand.”

“You’ve worked for Mr. Hart for the past year, correct?”

“Yes—since he was appointed as Mr. Goodman’s replacement. I worked for Mr. Goodman in the Senate, then stayed on with him when he was elected LG. Mr. Goodman was a great man. I’m still close to his family.”

“You’re Mr. Hart’s legislative consultant, correct?”

“Yes, but as I explained to the detective the other day, the LG doesn’t have much to do with legislation. I simply review pending legislation and give him a briefing, so he knows what’s happening, what he might want to write a press release on, things like that. But he doesn’t vote unless there’s a tie in the Senate. There hasn’t been a tie since he was elected.”

“Has Mr. Hart asked you to do anything that was different from what you did for Mr. Goodman?”

“I—I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Do you have added duties? Anything unrelated to legislation?”

“No.”

Matt spoke up. “In the last few months, has Mr. Hart acted out of character? Has he done or said anything that made you nervous?”

“Mr. Hart has always been the same.”

“Do you like him?”

“He’s a good boss.”

“Good how?”

“I do my job, he reads my reports, says thank you. I don’t interact with him much.”

“Then why were you at a campaign event?”

“It was my lunch hour.”

“So you wanted to be there? To support him?”

“No, he needed me to be available to answer questions about legislation. I keep up to date on all important bills, and because of Mr. Hart’s focus on criminal justice reform, I am particularly well-versed in all matters of public safety legislation. If a reporter asked something he might not know off the top of his head, I would be available to give him a quote.”

“So it was your idea.”

“No, of course not, I don’t work on campaigns, but I checked with our legal counsel and he said that as long as I was on my own time, I could assist. It’s legal. I have a letter confirming that.”

“Do you habitually run things by legal counsel?”

“Yes. Mr. Goodman never wanted anyone think he was crossing a line, so if he had any concerns, he’d ask me to draft a letter and get an opinion.”

“And Mr. Hart?”

“He’s a lawyer, he knows more about the law than Mr. Goodman did.”

“So he hasn’t asked you about getting legal opinions.”

“No, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

Still, Huang frowned, as if assessing something.

Dean asked, “Have you witnessed Mr. Hart engaged in any activities that you considered borderline? Something that Mr. Goodman might have gotten a legal opinion for?”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at.” Huang sipped his water and stared at the untouched coffee.

Dean leaned forward until Huang raised his gaze to meet Dean. “I’m going to trust you, Eric. If I’m wrong, a three year investigation is going up in smoke. But I don’t think I’m wrong. I think that you’re a good legislative aide, that you believe in the system, that you do not cross lines, that you have never consciously broken the law.”

“I haven’t done anything wrong. I swear, Agent Hooper.”

“Good. Because your boss may not be as squeaky clean as you.”

Huang wasn’t an idiot. He immediately knew what Dean meant.

“You’ve been investigating Mr. Hart? Three years ... that’s from before he was even appointed.”

“We believe that Mr. Hart is associating with a known criminal who may have been using Hart for political favors. We have circumstantial evidence, but nothing that proves he’s been taking bribes. Because he doesn’t vote on legislation, we can’t pin much on him.”

“Oh my God,” Huang said.

Matt’s heart pounded.

“Is this about the contract? Except that was just last month.”

“Explain,” Matt said.

“The economic development committee that Mr. Hart chairs gave a contract to Star Consulting for a study. The committee put out bids, and Star came in lowest. Except, they didn’t. I found another bid had been submitted, but Mr. Hart said they’d pulled it. I didn’t think anything of it, but then a letter came in from the lower bid company demanding a freedom of information act request about the bidding process. I started putting it together, but Mr. Hart said he would take care if it. That was ... odd. When I asked about it a week later, he said that it had been a misunderstanding.”

Dean slid a piece of paper and pen to Huang. “Write it all down. The names of the people involved. Dates. Everything you can remember.”

“What does this mean? Am I in trouble?”

“No, Mr. Huang, you’re not in any trouble. But I would strongly suggest that you don’t discuss this meeting with anyone—not in Mr. Hart’s office, not among your family, friends, staff, no one. Write everything down, and we’ll get you back home. We don’t want Mr. Hart to get suspicious.”

Huang started writing.

Matt motioned to Dean and they both left the room. “Shouldn’t we put him in protective custody?” Matt asked. “If we’re right, Hart may have conspired to have him killed.”

Dean seemed surprised. “Do you actually believe Hart himself had something to do with the shooting? Over a sketchy contract?”

“Yes, but I don’t think this is about that consulting contract, not specifically. I think Huang knows more about it, or that contract will lead us to Rykov or other illegal activities. That would damage Hart far more than Rykov. How would Rykov know that Huang was going to be at that press conference? It’s not part of his typical duties. Hart brought Huang in specifically for the event.”

Dean considered, but wasn’t convinced. “Huang may know more, but it’s difficult to interview a witness who doesn’t know what he knows, if you catch my drift.”

“Show him the pictures of Rykov, the shooter, everyone involved. Maybe something will come to mind.” Matt glanced at his watch. “Archives should have delivered the case Alex flagged yesterday. I want to go through it personally. She commented that the address was familiar, and when I dug deeper I learned that Tommy Cordell had been the arresting officer and Anthony Monteith—a drug lawyer—handled the defense even though no drugs were involved. The defendant was convicted and killed in prison. The whole case feels weird, but I won’t know until I read the transcripts and look at the evidence.”

“Let me know if you find anything before I meet with Alex at noon. I hope to bring something to the AUSA this week. If Huang helps us, we can take down Travis Hart first and flip him on Rykov.”

“You want to offer him a deal.” Matt hated the idea.

“Travis Hart will lose his career and be dis-barred, but he’s not a killer. He’s a corrupt politician. Rykov is dangerous. He traffics in human lives. I can’t let him walk. If we get something solid on Hart and the AUSA is behind me, I’m taking what we have to him and offering him a deal. I don’t need you to agree, Matt.”

Matt didn’t have to like it, but Dean was right. There were levels of crime, and while no prosecutor liked offering a deal to any criminal, there were valid reasons to do so. Sergei Rykov was one very valid reason.

“Whatever you need from my office, you’ll have it,” Matt said.

***

Alex walked into the coffeehouse in Old Sacramento and, after grabbing a large coffee, found a table in the corner where she could watch the door. She was practically smiling. She’d slept better than she’d had in quite some time.

From her pocket she pulled the note Matt had left on her nightstand.

Alex ~

I had to leave early to go home and dress for work. I’ll see you at the meeting with Dean at noon.

I told you we were compatible. Very compatible. I want to see you tonight. My place, so I don’t have to run out at the crack of dawn.

XO ~ Matt

Compatible? She’d call them combustible. She wasn’t going to read too much into their relationship, not right now. She was simply going to enjoy it. Enjoy Matt. See what happened, where this thing between them led, and not force anything.

But she certainly liked the D.A. Very, very much.

Alex’s best friend Detective Selena Black slid into the chair next to her. “You’re smiling. Spill.”

Alex couldn’t help herself. She showed Selena the note. She felt like she was in high school again, giggling over a crush. Except this was more than a crush.

“Matt
Elliott?
As in the hottest D.A. in the country Matt Elliott?”

Alex grinned and snatched the note from Selena’s fingers. She slipped it back in her pocket and sipped her coffee. “But keep it between us. I’m not going to tell anyone for awhile.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to jinx it.” She realized she probably shouldn’t have told Selena, either. If she took this position with Hart, she had to keep any relationship with Matt secret. The thought sobered her up quickly. “And there’s some people who can’t know.”

“Spill.”

She bit her lip. “It’s complicated. And I’m serious, this conversation can not go anywhere.”

“Alex, this is me. Selena. Who had your back at the police academy? Who’s your closest friend? I won’t repeat a word, but obviously something is bothering you.”

Alex still didn’t quite know how to bring up the subject. She started by hedging a bit. “You might not even be able to help, because you’re working sex crimes.”

“Ask. Anything.”

“Have you ever had any suspicion that my ex Jim might not be squeaky clean?”

Selena didn’t speak for a long minute, but her expression betrayed her.

“And you never told me?” Alex said. “This is important. I need to know.”

“What’s going on?”

“Jim’s the lead detective on the Travis Hart shooting. And ... he said something to me last night that had me thinking he knows more about the shooting than he’s telling me.”

“Maybe he’s just being a jerk.”

“Maybe.”

Selena sipped her coffee. “Just because a cop isn’t squeaky clean doesn’t mean they’re like Tommy Cordell.”

There were lots of shades of gray. Some things were easier to overlook than others.

“That said,” Selena continued, “a few years ago—five, maybe six,—I had an aggravated assault case. The victim was found barely alive in an alley. She was a prostitute, run by one of the Russian gangs. I suspected she was beaten by one of her johns. In my experience, if her pimp did it they wouldn’t leave her on the street to be picked up by the authorities. I worked her hard—pushed her to give me something, anything, to find the bastard who had hurt her. She wouldn’t talk. I had a Russian interpreter with me, but the girl spoke English well enough. She simply said she was mugged. She wasn’t fucking mugged, Alex.”

“Where does Jim come into it?”

“The girl left the hospital against doctor’s wishes. Two days later, she was found dead in her apartment. Jim caught the case. Didn’t work it like I would have.”

“Did she die from her injuries?”

“The coroner’s report said she OD’d on narcotics. Suspected suicide, possibly accidental—self-medicating for her injuries. But when Jim found out I’d pulled the autopsy report, he confronted me. It was ... unusual. It’s not that he said or did anything
wrong
, but his hostility was unwarranted. I let it go. There was no proof against anyone. I would have worked the pimp over—I couldn’t find any of his other girls who’d been beaten like that, which made me think it might not have been a regular john, it might have been a guy who picked her up and beat her because she was a prostitute. The hospital did a rape kit, which can be difficult to use in a prosecution because of her job. No semen, but anal tearing and evidence of spermicide. When I reviewed the original hospital report, it catalogued her injuries—bruising around her wrists, broken nose, one side of her face bruised, two cracked ribs. A clump of her hair had been torn out. But the bruising wasn’t consistent with being beaten. It was mostly on one side.”