My head snapped up. ‘‘He what?’’
‘‘He heard Darren had been shot, and he called in to say that he and Darren had met early this morning. Darren said he had some suspicions about a new recruit to the company. He said this recruit was turning over loan applications to a competitor, and he meant to confront the recruit about it. Wolfe said that you were the only new recruit to the company and that he had assigned Darren to train you. Wolfe said that he called you to his office to discuss the matter, but you bailed on him. He thinks Darren hunted you down, and the two of you got into an argument and that may be how he died.’’
‘‘That’s ridiculous!’’ I snapped.
‘‘I didn’t kill him!’’
‘‘What the hell were you doing working for Wolfe?’’ Dutch demanded. This was clearly the first he’d heard of my undercover stint.
‘‘I was trying to clear Lutz,’’ I said lamely.
Milo gave Dutch a look that said, ‘‘Told you so.’’
I scowled at Milo and continued. ‘‘Remember back when you gave me those folders to tune in on?’’ I asked.
Dutch nodded, and I could tell that he was working really hard not to yell at me. ‘‘Yes,’’ he said through clenched teeth.
‘‘Well, by mistake I tuned in on Walter’s folder, and the vision I had said that Lutz didn’t do it. He was the fall guy. Someone else pulled the trigger.’’
Dutch’s eyebrows raised. ‘‘Who?’’
‘‘Wolfe, but he wasn’t alone. There was another guy who is equally responsible, and I’m working on identifying who that is, but I’m not there yet.’’
‘‘Is that why Walter’s loan application was found in your purse?’’ asked Milo.
I nodded. ‘‘Yes,’’ I said. ‘‘That’s why I was working undercover at Universal. Candice suggested that the only way we could get info on Wolfe was to get close to him, so I went to work there, posing as a new loan officer.’’
‘‘So you discovered that Walter’s son had put some loans through Universal,’’ said Milo. ‘‘But he didn’t know about the connection to Wolfe until after Walter died, so why did you go back to work this morning?’’
‘‘Because it’s bigger than Walter’s murder!’’ I shouted. ‘‘There’s something much bigger going on, Milo! And people are suffering and losing their homes and getting beat up and
dying
!’’ I was breathing hard, getting worked up, and Dutch put a calming hand on my arm.
‘‘Hey,’’ he said. ‘‘Slow down, Edgar. Tell us what you know.’’
So I did. I told them about Darren’s scam with the county clerk, about the poor Schalubes, about a loan officer who handed lists over to another crooked loan officer named Sheldon Jacob, and about Selena and her brother and how everything seemed to tie back to Universal.
Both Dutch and Milo took notes and eyed each other occasionally. When I was finished Dutch said, ‘‘Okay. Let me check a few of these things out. Milo, put a rush on the forensics on Cox’s shooting. I’ll call you in a couple of hours.’’
With that he got up and walked out. I looked at Milo expectantly. ‘‘Can I go?’’ I asked.
Milo shook his head. ‘‘No,’’ he said.
‘‘Why not?’’ I demanded. ‘‘I’ve told you everything I know!’’
‘‘And yet we still have a dead guy in your office and you standing over the body.’’
‘‘I didn’t kill him!’’
I shouted again, on the verge of a complete meltdown.
‘‘So let me prove it,’’ he said bluntly. ‘‘Until then, you and Candice are going to sit where we can keep an eye on you. There’s a nice little five-by-ten room downstairs. You might not like all the bars, but at least the food isn’t bad.’’
‘‘I want a phone call,’’ I said. ‘‘I’m calling my sister to bail me out.’’
‘‘Not a problem,’’ said Milo as he stood up. ‘‘Your bail hearing is set for tomorrow afternoon. You can waste your call now, or after bail has been set.’’
I was escorted down the stairs to be fingerprinted and photographed. I was then shown into a cell where Candice was already lying on a bunk with her hands under her head. ‘‘Afternoon, roomie,’’ she said when she saw me.
‘‘This sucks,’’ I said moodily as I was pushed through the opening and the cell door closed with a loud clang behind me.
‘‘Don’t worry about it,’’ she said, sitting up. ‘‘We didn’t kill Darren. From the way the blood was starting to cake around his body and the rigor that looked like it was setting in, I’d say he’d been dead a while before we got there. Plus, I have an alibi. I was at the gym until just before you called. And I’m assuming you were someplace public as well?’’
I nodded. ‘‘I have a receipt for coffee in my purse,’’ I said. ‘‘And a witness I had coffee with.’’
‘‘We’re good,’’ said Candice, lying back down on the bunk. ‘‘They’ll arraign us tomorrow, we’ll post bond, and my attorney will get us off.’’
I sighed and headed over to the opposite bunk. ‘‘I can’t believe they killed him,’’ I said softly.
‘‘Just be grateful it wasn’t us,’’ said Candice.
‘‘But why?’’ I asked. ‘‘What did Darren have to do with this whole thing? I mean, I’m assuming that Wolfe is the one who pulled the trigger, and that he figured out I was working with you on trying to clear Lutz, but what does that have to do with Darren?’’
Candice shrugged her shoulders. ‘‘Don’t know, Abs. He could have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.’’
I frowned. ‘‘So what do we do now?’’
‘‘We wait,’’ said Candice.
‘‘For what?’’
‘‘For something else to happen,’’ she said ominously. But as it turned out we didn’t have to wait very long at all.
Around seven Dutch came to the cell, his look grave. ‘‘I need to speak with you,’’ he said to me through the bars.
‘‘Great. Let me get my coat and we can go for pizza,’’ I snapped from the bunk. By now, my own mood had darkened.
Dutch waved at someone off to his right and a police officer came and unlocked the door. I got up and walked over, praying that he was really taking me for pizza. ‘‘We can use one of the rooms upstairs,’’ he said and I followed him up to the room we’d sat in before.
‘‘So what’s up?’’ I asked wearily as I sat down.
‘‘Bree’s missing,’’ he said, getting right to the point.
I sat up in my chair and looked at him in horror. ‘‘What do you mean, Bree’s missing?’’
‘‘I made contact with her yesterday evening,’’ he said. ‘‘I understand you also had a little chat with her?’’
I nodded. ‘‘I wanted to make sure she was on the lookout for anyone suspicious. I didn’t want her mother’s killer to think Bree was the one who tipped you off.’’
‘‘You beat me to the punch,’’ he said, and I could tell he was a little miffed.
‘‘Sorry,’’ I said and looked at the table.
‘‘Anyway, I told both her and her husband to be cautious, and to call me about anything that felt weird or strange or scary. I got a call from the husband an hour ago. Bree was due to pick up her kid from day care. When she didn’t show, they called the husband. He said he’s called her at work and on her cell, but she doesn’t answer. He said he called a friend of hers who also works with her, and she said that Bree went to lunch today and never came back.’’
‘‘Oh, God,’’ I said. I felt my insides go cold. ‘‘You don’t think . . .’’ I couldn’t finish the thought. All I could think about was Bree’s little boy and how much she adored him.
‘‘I don’t know, Abby,’’ Dutch said. ‘‘I mean, I’ve been very careful, very discreet about doing some background checks on Robillard. But the guy’s been very good about covering his tracks.’’
‘‘You’re sure she’s really missing?’’ I asked, even though I knew the answer. ‘‘I mean, maybe she went to a friend’s house, or a relative’s? Maybe she forgot that it was her turn to pick up her son?’’
Dutch shook his head. ‘‘Her husband has already called everyone he can think of. And she didn’t forget. Her husband also told me that she called him in the morning to say that their son had a doctor’s appointment and she was going to leave work a little early to make it to the doctor on time.’’
‘‘Damn it,’’ I said.
Dutch pulled out a picture from his coat pocket and gave it to me. It was of Bree and her son. ‘‘I asked her husband for a photo,’’ he said and waited for me to say something as I took a tentative look.
I breathed a sigh of relief. ‘‘She’s alive,’’ I said, seeing the somewhat three-dimensional image of Bree staring back at me. If she were dead, her image would’ve appeared flatter and slightly more transparent.
Dutch sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his short hair. ‘‘Can you tune in on a location or a clue as to where Robillard might have taken her?’’
‘‘You’re sure he knows someone is pointing to him as the murderer?’’ I asked.
‘‘The man’s gotten away with it for twenty years, Abs. If anyone would be watching the investigation closely, it would be him. And . . .’’ he hesitated.
‘‘And?’’
Dutch gave me a guilty look. ‘‘And, before I went to see Bree and her husband, I went to Robillard’s boss, the SAC, with my suspicions.’’
My jaw dropped. ‘‘Didn’t you say that Robillard’s boss was also ex-CIA?’’
Dutch glowered at me. ‘‘I know it was risky,’’ he snapped. ‘‘But I had to start somewhere. And I needed clearance to do the digging. I mean, I had to have access to Robillard’s old bank records and his old itineraries. His boss was the only guy that had worked with Robillard long enough to give some insight and give me clearance.’’
‘‘But you didn’t tell him where you got that it was Robillard who killed Cynthia, did you?’’ I asked him nervously.
‘‘No,’’ Dutch said and hung his head. ‘‘He would never have taken me seriously if I’d mentioned I got the ID from a psychic.’’
The look on Dutch’s face was really guilty, and I knew there was a little more to the story. ‘‘So how did you explain where the information came from?’’
‘‘I pointed to Bree. I said she had been meeting with a hypnotherapist and it had triggered a memory of who was in the house that night.’’
‘‘Oh, my God,’’ I whispered.
Dutch got up and began pacing the floor. ‘‘I know, I know!’’ he said, his fists clenched by his sides. ‘‘I blew it!’’
I got up and went over to him, putting my hands on his chest to stop him from pacing. ‘‘This isn’t your fault, Dutch,’’ I said.
‘‘It is absolutely my fault, Abby,’’ he said and his face registered so much emotion that it broke my heart.
I smiled sadly at him. ‘‘You did it to protect me,’’ I said. He gave me a funny look, so I elaborated. ‘‘You know Robillard is dangerous, and I think you pointed him away from me subconsciously to make sure I wasn’t in anyone’s line of fire.’’
‘‘I’m an ass,’’ he said. ‘‘I put an innocent woman in danger when I knew better. I should have just worked quietly behind the scenes for a while and assessed the situation differently.’’
‘‘So now what?’’ I asked him. I wanted him to focus on the solution, not placing blame for the situation.
‘‘We need to find her,’’ he said, ‘‘and quick.’’
I went back to the table and sat down. I then closed my eyes and focused all of my concentration on Bree, but it was no good. All I kept seeing was my own jail cell. Finally I opened my eyes and gave an apologetic shrug of my shoulders to Dutch. ‘‘Can you get me out of here?’’ I asked him. ‘‘I can’t focus in here.’’
Dutch gave me a sad look. ‘‘Sweetheart, there’s nothing I can do on that front, and you know it. But Milo’s working the guys in forensics overtime to clear you two. With any luck he’ll be able to drop the charges before your arraignment.’’
‘‘Fine,’’ I said, feeling so weary I could barely think straight. Still, I closed my eyes again and tried my damnedest to get a bead on Bree. Nothing more came to me, so with a sigh I said, ‘‘Dutch, the radar’s not working tonight. I’ll need to wait until I get some rest. Come back after the arraignment and I’ll try again. Okay?’’
Dutch nodded solemnly. ‘‘I understand. I’ll keep working on it tonight, and I’ll be here in the morning for the arraignment.’’
Dutch walked me back downstairs and turned me over to the officer who had retrieved me earlier. Before leaving me, he gave me a tremendous hug and whispered in my ear, ‘‘Be good, okay? And don’t worry, we’ll figure all this out.’’
I hated letting go of him, but when the officer cleared his throat, Dutch stepped back and with a final squeeze of my hand he was gone. I trudged back to my cell and saw that Candice had already dozed off. The door clanged behind me and I looked at her to see if she’d woken up, but the noise only made her roll over and face the wall.
With an exhausted whimper I went over to my bunk and lay down, waiting for sleep to take me away. Still, tired as I was, it was late into the night before I closed my eyes.
Chapter Twelve
As it turned out, the charges against Candice and me were dropped by seven a.m. and there was no need for an arraignment hearing. The forensic results, along with the coroner’s report—which Milo had also rushed through—showed that Candice’s gun had not been the one that killed Darren and that he had been dead for no less than ninety minutes before either one of us showed up. That gave us both solid alibis, as I’d been at Universal until nine and Candice had been at the gym.
Further, the 911 call that came in reporting shots fired was traced to a disposable cell phone found in a trash can right in front of where Candice and I had parked our cars. Someone had to have watched us park and go into the building before making the call. Unfortunately, there were no prints on the phone, but it didn’t matter. Milo knew we had been set up and so did the DA.
Dutch picked us up and drove us over to get our cars, then split to work on finding Bree. I promised him that after a shower and a little breakfast, I would do my best to tune in on any clue about her whereabouts. I also invited Candice over to my place, which she accepted gratefully. ‘‘There’s no way I want to explain this to Nana,’’ she said, holding up her fingers and showing me the ink marks from having her fingerprints taken.