No One Left to Tell (7 page)

‘Not every day,’ she agreed evenly. ‘Look, I want to help you, but I’m really tired and I was about to take a shower. Can you ask me what you need to ask me?’

‘Of course,’ Morton said. ‘Can we sit?’

‘I’d like to get this done fast. I prefer to stand,’ she said and Morton frowned.

‘Of course.’ Morton proceeded to ask the same questions that Perkins had asked.

Paige sighed. ‘With all due respect, Detective Morton, I have already answered all of these questions. I’m so tired I can’t think. Can we please be finished soon?’

‘If you’d sit down, you wouldn’t be so tired,’ Morton said snidely.

Paige had to bite back a snarl. ‘If I sit down, I won’t get back up again.’ She moved to her door to show them out and Morton made a huffing noise, clearly annoyed.

‘Miss Holden, what do you do for a living?’ she asked.

‘I work at a gym. I also work for a private investigator.’

‘Are you licensed?’ Bashears asked. By the look in his eyes she knew he’d known exactly what she did for a living, just as he’d known about her ‘incident’.

‘Not yet.’

Morton took a half-step forward, stopping when Peabody growled. ‘Why do you think Elena Muñoz was shot in her vehicle, then shot again by a sniper?’

‘I don’t know,’ Paige said, and even she would have believed herself.

‘You’re a PI,’ Bashears said. ‘Were you working for her?’

‘No,’ Paige said, and that was actually the truth. Technically. Maria had approached her, begging her for help. Not Elena. A cold shiver raced down her spine as she realized that Maria might be in danger, too. ‘Are we done?’

‘Almost,’ Morton said. ‘Who do you work for, Ms Holden?’

‘The Silver Gym. I’m a trainer there.’

Morton leveled a stare that had become hostile in a single blink. ‘I’m talking about your PI job. Who do you work for?’

Bashears cut in smoothly. ‘We’d like to know in what capacity are you acquainted with Clay Maynard? He stood with you while you spoke with Detective Perkins.’

‘We’re associates. And friends.’

Morton lifted a brow. ‘And he had nothing to do with the fact that Elena Muñoz happened to crash into the lamppost next to your apartment?’

Paige didn’t back down. ‘No. Look, I’m tired and I’ve cooperated. Please leave.’

‘You haven’t told us the truth,’ Morton bit out. ‘But I’ll go, for now. By the way, when you see Mr Maynard next, tell him that Detective Skinner finally returned to work after months on disability. But he’ll never work Homicide again. He’ll sit at a damn desk until he’s old enough for his retirement Timex.’ She leaned closer, this time ignoring Peabody’s warning growl. ‘And you tell your associate and your
friend
that I’ll be watching you both. Because something stinks here and it reeks of
him
.’

Morton yanked Paige’s front door open, then turned for a parting jab. ‘If you know something you aren’t telling me, I’ll nail your ass to the wall. I don’t care how many YouTube hits you get or how many reporters are calling you a Good Samaritan.’

Wide-eyed, Paige stared at the two detectives as they walked down the stairs. Bashears looked annoyed, but with his partner, not with Paige.
At least there’s that
, she thought, closing her door and locking all three deadbolts. She turned, unsurprised to see Clay standing behind her even though he hadn’t made a sound. His jaw was hard, but his eyes were turbulent. And filled with guilt.

Wearily, Paige sank into the chair at her desk. ‘So who is Detective Skinner?’

Clay sat on her sofa, staring at her carpet. ‘Morton’s old partner. Skinner was shot by Nicki’s killer after I discovered her body. Because I didn’t tell the cops what I knew right away, Skinner almost died. When I heard Morton ID herself at the door I thought that there might be trouble. She doesn’t like me much.’

‘Yeah,’ Paige said dryly. ‘I got that. I have to tell someone. I don’t want a Skinner on my conscience. But I’m not gonna tell Morton. She scares the hell out of me.’

He glanced up to meet her eyes. ‘Me, too.’

Paige sighed. ‘So Ramon’s alibi was true. There was no way he could have killed Crystal Jones in a gardener’s shed six years ago. Yet the murder weapon was found in his bedroom closet, wrapped in a canvas apron, stuck down in one of Elena’s boots. It was planted. Maybe by cops. God, we sound so OJ.’

‘It’s been known to happen,’ Clay said. ‘Cops planting evidence.’

She studied him shrewdly. ‘And someday you’ll tell me about it?’

‘Probably not,’ he murmured. ‘Not one of my better memories.’

‘You didn’t . . .’ Paige let the thought trail and watched him shake his head.

‘Never. And I tried to stop it, but it was too huge.’

‘So you left the force.’

‘Yeah. If cops were involved, this is already bigger than you and me, Paige.’

‘Well, cops
are
involved on some level – assuming they were chasing Elena this morning. Then Morton, who worked on the Crystal Jones murder, comes in as a pinch hitter. This does not bode well. I have no idea where to turn.’

‘I can call the cop I mentioned before. I think we can trust her.’

‘How do you know her?’

‘She worked Nicki’s homicide.’

‘So she works with Morton. Look, even if Morton hadn’t been the one to investigate Ramon’s murder, she has a vendetta for you, Clay. And I promised Elena I wouldn’t take this to the cops. Call me superstitious, but I don’t like to renege on a deathbed promise.’ Paige rubbed her aching forehead. ‘So where do I go to do the right thing?’

Clay shrugged. ‘What about a defense attorney?’

‘Elena contacted one of those innocence organizations that help wrongly convicted prisoners. They said she was so far back in line that it could be ten years before they even got to Ramon’s case. They told her that she needed new evidence. And so did I.’

‘You can’t blame yourself, Paige. Besides, you have that evidence. A defense attorney will listen to you now. Maybe the innocence organization would move Ramon up in line so he wouldn’t have to wait ten years.’

‘Ten minutes is too long for Ramon to stay in jail.’ Peabody laid his head on Paige’s knee and she scratched behind his ears. ‘I could talk to the defense attorneys, but if dirty cops are involved . . . Someone in law enforcement needs to know.’

‘We could try the state’s attorney’s office.’

‘ASA Grayson Smith.’ Paige considered the trial transcript she’d spent the last few weeks poring over. ‘He ran a clean trial. Cut and dried.’

‘Any indication he could have been corrupt?’

‘Not to my knowledge. He only used the evidence that Morton and her old partner collected. Maria said that he tried to get Ramon to take a deal but Ramon refused. When the case came to court Smith was harsh with Ramon, but kind and respectful to Maria. Compassionate, even. She and Elena wanted to hate him, but couldn’t. Elena was even considering visiting him, asking for his help.’ She bit her lip. ‘I’m going to have to trust someone. I’ve got enough ghosts haunting my mind. I don’t need someone dying because I held back.’ She swiveled in the chair and opened her everyday laptop.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Pulling up my file on Grayson Smith.’ The most recent photo she’d found had been taken on the courthouse steps the previous winter. He was a very handsome man, tall and linebacker-big. His double-breasted wool coat hung from his broad shoulders like it was custom-made for him. His hair was dark, his skin golden. ‘He doesn’t look like a Grayson. Or a Smith.’

Clay looked over her shoulder. ‘What does it matter?’

She lifted a shoulder. ‘It doesn’t. It’s a game I play. Just trying to figure out where people come from. Probably due to the fact that I was the only one with black hair and black eyes in a family of blond, blue-eyed Norwegians.’

‘Are you adopted?’ Clay asked, interest in his tone.

‘No.’ Although there had been a hell of a lot of days growing up that she wished she had been. ‘But I never knew my father, who I have to assume was not a blond, blue-eyed Norwegian. I think I’ll take a shower, then go meet Mr Smith.’

‘What, you’re going to look into his eyes and see if he’s trustworthy?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Has it ever worked before?’

Paige thought of the failed relationships that littered her life. ‘I wish. I would have run from about ninety per cent of my old boyfriends.’

‘Then why even bother?’

She considered her answer. ‘Because I don’t know what else to do.’

‘You want me to come with you?’

‘It would be better if you went to check on Maria. I’m worried about her. If anyone thinks she knows what Elena was carrying, her life could be in danger.’

‘If they find out you’ve got what she was carrying, your life could be in danger, too.’

An icy finger ran down her spine. ‘Yeah. I know.’

Tuesday, April 5, 8.55
A.M
.

Silas swallowed hard when he saw the caller ID on his cell phone. ‘Yeah?’ he answered before the last ring, his voice flat. He’d learned to be a hell of an actor.

‘You lied to me.’

Silas’s jaw tightened. ‘No, I did not.’

‘You never said that Elena spoke to anyone. But there’s video all over the Internet that shows that she did.’

His blood went cold.
Video?
‘From my vantagepoint I saw no words exchanged.’

‘You also didn’t mention the Good Samaritan who stopped to help her.’

‘Had I known they exchanged words, I would have killed her too.’

‘I need to know what they said. I need to know what Elena knew.’

‘Did you speak with Denny? Ask what the woman had seen?’

‘Of course, but I haven’t gotten a straight answer yet.’ There was a touch of amusement in his tone, punctuated by a guttural moan in the background. ‘But Mr Sandoval did, after a little convincing, tell me that Elena saw you. That you arrived at the bar as she was escaping. That’s not what you told me either. So, you did lie to me.’

‘I didn’t tell you she didn’t see me. By the time I got there she was already driving away. I had her in a place where I could run her off the road when Denny started shooting. I saw her heading into the apartment complex and I chose the building at the next driveway. That’s the truth. I got to the roof seconds before she crashed.’

Just as the woman leapt out of the way
.

There was no answer, only heavy, angry silence. Silas closed his eyes. He couldn’t win this. He just had to survive. ‘What do you want me to do?’

‘That’s much better. Listen and obey, or you will not be a happy man.’

He listened, his palms clammy. He’d do as he was told. The risk of disobedience was too high. When the instructions were complete, he disconnected. Just in time.

He made his lips smile as he opened his arms to the little whirlwind who’d brought him back to life from the ashes. ‘Hey, baby.’

‘Papa.’ She hugged him hard, then flattened her little seven-year-old hands on either side of his face, her eyes very serious. ‘You looked sad on the phone. Why?’

He kissed her forehead. ‘Because your Fluffy ate the pie that Mama made me for dessert tonight.’ He didn’t lie unless he absolutely had to, but he’d say anything, do anything to keep her from knowing the real world.
From knowing the truth about me
.

She laughed, a twinkling sound that soothed him. ‘Mama will make you more.’

He brought her close, wished he could hug her with all the emotion in his heart. But he could break her if he wasn’t careful. He was always careful. ‘You be good today.’

‘I’ll try.’

‘There is no try,’ he said with mock severity.

‘There is only do,’ she responded, as she always did.

‘I love you, baby.’

She burrowed into his neck. ‘I love you too. I hafta go. The bell’s gonna ring.’

He put her down, the smile still on his face as she darted away, waving over her shoulder. He turned for his van, waiting until he was inside before letting out the breath he’d held. But there was no relief. He’d been holding his breath for seven and a half years.

Seven and a half years since he’d made a horrible choice. He watched her rejoin the other children, happy, safe. Loved. And he knew if he had to do it all over, he’d make the same horrible choice again.

Tuesday, April 5, 11.15
A.M
.

‘Did you call Anderson?’ Daphne whispered as they sat at the prosecution table waiting for the Samson jury to come in. ‘Please say you did.’

‘Yeah, I did,’ Grayson whispered back. ‘I had to deal that bastard Willis down.’ And he was very unhappy about it. With good behavior, a man who’d murdered two convenience-store workers in cold blood would be out in three years. It sucked. He glanced up at the jury door as it opened and the first juror entered the courtroom.

Anderson had wanted him to deal this case down too. The Samson jury had been out too long and the boss didn’t believe they’d be delivering a guilty verdict.

Grayson was betting on the jury.
I guess in a few minutes we’ll know who was right
.

‘Dammit. I’m sorry.’ Daphne pursed her lips. ‘Did you tell Bashears about Elena?’

He nodded. ‘They’re trying to find out who else she talked to about her husband.’

‘Did you call your mother?’

He grimaced. ‘Crap.’

‘Grayson,’ she scolded.

‘I’ve been busy.’ He’d been going over his files on the Muñoz case, when he really should have been doing other things. Like calling his mother. ‘I’ll call her when we’re done. Ah, finally,’ he added as the last of the jurors filed in. ‘Cross your fingers.’

‘And toes,’ Daphne muttered. ‘Defense is looking damn smug.’

The judge entered, the tension in the courtroom palpable. ‘Does the jury have a verdict?’ the judge asked.

Grayson held his breath. Having to deal a murderer down still stung. Grayson didn’t want another loss on his conscience.
Elena’s murder is a tragedy, but not your fault
. Except he’d been telling himself that all morning and it wasn’t helping. Rereading the file had left him with the uncomfortable feeling that he’d missed something.