Ultimate Kill (Book 1 Ultimate CORE Trilogy) (CORE Series) (39 page)

Suts looked to his fellow agent, but Hicks kept his focus on him. “Were you surprised to see Santiago? How was he acting?”

“Of course I was surprised. I thought the man was sick. But he told me he was better and wanted to be by my side because of what happened to the company plane. As for how he was acting.” He lifted a shoulder. “I didn’t suspect a thing.”

“Ms. McCall said Santiago picked her up from the Carlyle airstrip just shortly after three and brought her back to the warehouse.” Agent Hicks glanced down at the open file in front of him. “She claims you forced her to decide between detonating another bomb or killing the man you were also forcing to activate the explosions.”

Christian rubbed his forehead. Fuck. His Rose was a definite thorn in his side. “I have
no
idea what she’s talking about. I have nothing to do with these bombings. As for the man she’s referring to…are you talking about this Michael Fairclough?”

“No.” Suts shook his head. “His brother, Harrison.”

The smart brother
. The shithead who took the laptop and ran off with Vlad. God, he couldn’t wait to watch them both bleed. “I don’t know who Michael is, and I certainly don’t know anything about his brother.” He slammed his palm against the table again. “Why? Because I had nothing to do with those bombings.” He glared at both men, then blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “You’re taking the word of a woman who supposedly changed her name to hide from me, a women who I had zero interactions with, other than exchanging a few words before she walked off with Ric—
eight years ago
. Now you’re accusing me of threatening a man who I’ve never seen or met. What else did this
brother
tell you?”
 

Hicks leaned back in his chair. “He confirmed Ms. McCall’s story.”

Liar. Harrison wasn’t in custody. If he was, they’d likely have the laptop and he would have already been charged with domestic terrorism. During the years he’d been friends with Martin, he’d learned a thing or two about FBI and police interrogation tactics. Martin had, after relaying a closed case that had been made public, explained that his agents had lied about information to lure their informant into cracking.
 

He wasn’t about to crack. Harrison, Vlad…Rose, he had unfinished business to attend to and he couldn’t do it behind bars.

“I don’t know how that’s possible.” He tugged at the V-neck of the hideous jumpsuit. “I’ve never met him and he was never at my apartment.”

“Fingerprint analysis says otherwise.” Suts pulled out a sheet of paper from his file and examined it. “You can’t deny the evidence.”

He wanted to tell them to take their bullshit evidence and shove it up their asses. He’d planned for this moment just as methodically as he had planned the bombings. “You’re right.” He nodded instead. “I can’t. But I’m telling you I never saw or met the man. Is it possible he was at my apartment
before
I arrived?” He shook his head. “Agent Suts, you’ve been to my warehouse. There are plenty of places a man can hide. Or maybe the man left when I came there. I don’t know. What I do know is, again, I
never
saw him.”
 

“Ms. McCall watched Harrison Fairclough detonate the bomb from a laptop,” Suts continued. “She said he did it because you had a gun pointed to his head. After the signal had been sent, she also said you pulled the trigger, but there had been no bullets.”

“Interesting. You also have the gun I carry—which I have a permit for. I’m sure you’ve noticed that it’s most certainly loaded. But I haven’t used the weapon in months. And the last time I did was at a firing range.”

“The gunpowder residue on your hand says otherwise.”

Christian threw his hands in the air. “It wasn’t from
my
gun.”

“Right.” Agent Hicks continued to tap his damned pen against the table. “It was from Ric’s. Why don’t you explain how your fingerprints ended up on his gun?”

“Gladly.” Oh, how he’d love to shove that pen up the agent’s nose and straight to his brain. “About three-thirty—I’m not sure the exact time—I came out of my bedroom. Rose…Naomi, she was there. After Ric reintroduced us, I pulled him aside and asked him what the hell she was doing here. He said she was in town on business and that they’d made plans to get together. I told him to get her the hell out of my warehouse.” He tapped his thumb against his chest. “I wanted my privacy. I also told him the apartment was
my
place, not his. That he was not to bring his women back here. So, Ric said he’d get rid of her and put her in a hotel, once he had a room.” He shook his head. “I was furious and went back into my bedroom to watch the news. When I saw one of my delivery trucks had been targeted, I rushed out of the bedroom. Rose was tied to the chair and Ric and Santiago were standing by her arguing.”

He drew in a deep breath. Now was his time to shine. He stared Hicks directly in the eyes. “I’ve never been so sickened and scared in my life. I pulled Ric into the office and demanded he tell me what the hell was going on, but before he could explain, Santiago burst through the door.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, he relived the scene. Only he added the embellishments, along with the fabricated fear and desperation the moment
should
have called for—if it had been true. “Santiago went after Ric. Ric drew the gun he carried from the clip attached to his back. I tried to restrain Ric and stop him from shooting Santiago. Before I could…” He drew in another deep breath. “It happened so fast. Santiago slit Ric’s throat and, at the same time, the gun went off.
That’s
how I had the blood on my shirt. And
that’s
how I had the gunpowder residue on my hands.”
 

He made his chin tremble and swallowed hard. At the same time, he looked to the desk. “There was so much blood. I…can’t believe they’re both gone. I
can’t
believe that they were behind these bombings. It makes no sense.”

Christian kept his eyes cast down, when he really wanted to glare at the agents and tell them to go fuck themselves. Idiots. They had no idea who they were dealing with—at all.
 

“So,” Suts began, “the gun goes off and kills Santiago and…”

“While I called Martin, I ran out of the office to check on Rose.” He looked at them and frowned. “When I didn’t find her tied to the chair, I started looking for her. I wanted to make sure she was okay and to let her know she was safe. Honestly, I was hoping she could give me answers.”

“What kind of answers?” Suts asked.

“Why was she really here? What were Ric and Santiago up to?”

“You didn’t suspect they were involved in the bombings?”

“No. Why would I?”

Hicks held up the photo of Mickey and stabbed his index finger at the carvings on the dumb brother’s stomach. “Rose Wood.”

Christian rubbed his temple and looked away from the picture. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

Suts glanced to his notes. “Do you recall where the first bombing took place?”

“Yes, San Francisco.”

“What about the name of the establishment?”

He looked to the ceiling as if thinking. “Redwood Tavern?”

“No. It was Rosewood Bar & Grill. I know you remember the name of the pilots who lost their lives in Denver and—”

“Oh, my God,” he gasped. “Jerry Rose and Woody Gilmore. Rose…Wood.”
 

“Every single bombing has a Rose Wood link. The riverboat that exploded in St. Louis was called the Delta Rose. The wood connection there should have been Hazel Wood, but she was fortunate and wasn’t on board. Then there’s Leavenworth, Kansas, where a bomb went off at the Chapel Woods Presbyterian Church during the funeral for
Rose
Michaels.”

“The school in Idaho?” Christian asked, widening his eyes as he looked between both agents.
 

“Rosewood County,” Hicks answered with disgust. “The Sun Valley Hotel and Convention Center in Henderson, Nevada was located on Rosewood Court. Let’s not forget Smithfield, Wyoming, where an explosion ripped through Saint Dorothy of the Roses Nursing Home which is located in
Wood
County.”

Christian held up a hand. “Please,” he said, forcing a word he never used. “I…this is unbelievable. You’re telling me that these terrorist acts were all because of a woman?”

“Ms. McCall says you were sending her a message.” With a smug tilt of his mouth, Hicks leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “She says she’s been hiding from you for years and that this was your way of forcing her to come to you.”

He allowed a bit of his anger to surface for effect. “She’s
lying
. I’m happily married. I have children. And if I wanted to have an affair—which I don’t—I’m sure I could go about it in a much more discreet manner.” He let out frustrated breath. “I plan to run for the Senate this fall. I’m friends with your director, with senators and congressmen, with the Vice President of the United States. Why would I jeopardize my marriage and potential political career? Let’s not forget that I not only lost valuable employees, but an eighty-six million dollar plane. My company is going to take a huge hit. I’m terrified customers will associate BH-Xpress with violence.” He shook his head. “More than all of that, I’m a devout Protestant and follow Christ’s teachings. Mass murder is not part of my DNA or my moral fiber.”

“What about abortion?” Suts asked.

“Agent Suts, I just told you my religious beliefs. I’m also a Republican. Abortion is
not
something I believe in—at all,” he said with indignation. “I’m sure that’s not why you brought it up, though.”

“No. Ms. McCall alleges that you got her pregnant and then had Ric, and a man claiming to be a doctor, abort the baby.” Hicks face twisted in disgust. “Without proper medical care or equipment. Because of this, she can no longer have children.”
 

Christian slammed his palm against the table. “Again, I did not have sex with that woman. If I did and I impregnated her as she claims, the child would be alive and well. I don’t believe in abortion. I couldn’t even imagine looking into my son and daughter’s eyes knowing that I had taken part in destroying a child that belonged to me.” He gripped the edge of the table. “What evidence do you have for this ridiculous allegation? Where is the doctor? Where did this supposedly take place? Instead of questioning and accusing me of things I had nothing to do with, maybe you should look more into not only Ric and Santiago’s background, but Ms. McCall’s. I’m sorry she’d been put through what she had today, and these…terrorist messages.” He rested his forearms on the table. “I’m not saying I don’t believe her, but have you looked into her mental health? Or her financial situation? I’m worth billions. She wouldn’t be the first person looking for a bit of my wealth.”

Instead of acknowledging his gripping rebuttal, Hicks moved forward and sifted through his file. “At twelve twenty-six p.m., Central Daylight Saving Time Monday afternoon, Ms. McCall called Ric’s cell phone. We have a recording of the exchange between them. Where were you at that time?”

“I told you,” he said with a tired sigh, when what he really wanted to do was punch the wall. The bitch had been working with someone after all. He’d find out who and make sure they were taken care of, as well. He would not allow any of this to taint his company or political career. “At my warehouse apartment and in my office.”

“You didn’t hear or witness this exchange?”

“No. Is my voice on this recording?”

Suts shook his head.
 

“So, again, why are you questioning me? What Ms. McCall is accusing me of is a ridiculous travesty. From where I’m sitting, and from what you’ve told me, it’s clear Ric was behind everything. Honestly, if I hadn’t seen Ms. McCall tied to a chair and witnessed what Ric and Santiago did to each other…I wouldn’t believe Ric capable of such horrors.”

Hicks lifted a piece of paper and looked it over. “At any point today did you witness Ric on his phone?”

“Of course. He set up my press conference and fielded several calls. Plus he—”

“Not just phone calls,” Hicks said while still looking at the paper.

Considering his current position, he’d let the arrogant agent’s rude interruption slide. “Meaning?”

“Did you see Ric using his smart phone for research?”

“I…maybe, I’m not sure. We were busy discussing business in the morning, then when the plane went down, our focus was on that.”

“Records show that Ric had Googled Rose Wood several times throughout the day. Each time he’d done it had been shortly after one of the bombings. You know nothing about this?”

Of course he did. From the start, he’d refused to allow any evidence to be tied back to him. Having Ric look for information from his phone had been a calculated stroke of genius, along with the perfect way to keep the evidence on Ric and off of him.
 

“No. I don’t.”

Hicks set the paper on the table and took out another photograph. “Do you know this woman?” he asked and slid the picture across the table.

Christian stared at the driver’s license photo of Allison Hobar and instantly remembered how the maid had serviced him. “Yes. She works as a kitchen maid at my house. Why?”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

He pretended to think. “I’m not sure. My wife is better at that sort of thing. She would know. Better yet, check with my head of housekeeping.”