Sanctuary Lost WITSEC Town Series Book 1 (23 page)

John stood, motioning to Dotty’s chair. He
pulled out a fingerprint kit and worked through both of them,
getting full sets of prints. He’d have to load them onto his
computer and compare the images with the latent partial he’d taken
from the knife handle in order to try and confirm or disprove their
involvement.

He sat back down, locking his gaze on Andra.
“I take it Nadia knows about your past?”

She nodded.

“Actually, it’s Nadia-Marie. As in,
Nadia-Marie Carleigh.”

“Okay then, Ms. Carleigh.”

She smirked. “To answer your question, yes. I
know about Andra’s career. Not the gory details, just the
highlights.”

He turned back to Andra. “How do you get into
that? What makes a young woman become an assassin?” She didn’t
speak, so John added, “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Only her mouth moved. She didn’t react in any
other way. “Maybe I do mind.”

“This is a murder investigation. And right
now you’re the chief suspect.”

“She didn’t do it,” Nadia Marie said. “She’s
innocent.”

That was debatable. Andra must have seen it
on his face because she turned to her friend. “He doesn’t believe
that. He believes what everyone else does, that I’m a stone cold
killer.”

Nadia Marie looked like she was about to cry.
“That’s not true.”

“I know,
Cariña
,” Andra said. “And the
fact you believe that counts for everything.”

The other woman shot up. “I have to go.” She
dashed from the sheriff’s office, almost colliding with Palmer
coming back.

The deputy set a cardboard take-out container
on John’s desk and smirked at Andra. “Killers don’t get meals.”

“They actually do, Palmer.”

The deputy’s lip curled. He sat in the
waiting area and took out a burger from his own box. “Did she
confess yet?” He took a huge bite. Grilled onion and mushrooms
spilled out, landing in the box he was holding under his chin like
a bib.

Andra sat completely still, like she was made
of marble. Did nothing faze her? The only time he’d seen a reaction
was with Nadia Marie. They must be close. He’d guess Nadia had
simply worn down Andra’s defenses. Was that the key to getting
through to her? John decided to file it away for later use—if he
could figure out this mess.

“Well, did she?”

“No, Palmer. We’re still talking.” He glanced
at her and she gave him a slight nod. “Andra was about to tell me
how she got into that career.”

“Who cares? Once a killer, always a
killer.”

“It’s necessary to form a complete picture,
Deputy Palmer. Ms. Caleri was likely not born an assassin. So I’d
like to know how she became one.”

If he was going to have to convince half the
town she didn’t kill Betty, he might as well start with his
deputy.

Andra shifted in her chair and cleared her
throat. “It was my eighteenth birthday and a group of us snuck off
school grounds to go clubbing in Barcelona. I met this guy.
Refined. Older. After dancing and a few drinks he convinced me to
go outside with him.” She swallowed. “We were in the back alley
when he…tried it on with me. I couldn’t fight him, so I grabbed the
only thing in reach and slammed him in the head with it. One second
he was on me, the next he was bleeding everywhere. He
just…died.

“This woman strode round the corner almost
like she knew we were there. She was wearing a skirt suit and gold
jewelry, and she looked like a model but older. She hauled me to my
feet and told me to grab his arms. I was shaking so hard I could
barely get a grip on him but we threw his body in this huge trash
container. She asked me if I wanted to go to jail for the rest of
my life, or if I wanted to go with her. She said the
Policia
would catch up to me eventually and my life would be over, so my
only option was to run.

“We got in her car, a brand new Mercedes, and
we drove to another club. She walked me inside to this back room
where two men in suits were talking. She pulled out a gun and shot
both of them. I remember one of them dropped his glass and I got a
cut on my leg. That’s how the CIA started tracking me—because my
blood was at the scene.

“Sheila, that’s what her name was, killed two
more people that night. The last guy, she held him and gave me a
knife. Told me to stab him. I was in shock. He said he was going to
find both of us and kill us. She grabbed my hand and pushed the
knife in. It cut my finger.”

Andra’s head was bowed but her face had gone
pale. John wanted to go to her and do…something. He was in shock
just listening to it. He could barely comprehend what she was
saying.

“We took a boat to France, rented a car and
drove through to Frankfurt. It was a few weeks before she got
another assignment. It came in the mail, to a P.O. Box. By that
time she had me convinced this was the only life for me. She’d been
injured so she couldn’t have kids of her own. I was going to be her
“legacy”. That’s what she called me.”

Andra took a breath. “In two years she killed
fourteen people and I killed seven until one day this CIA agent
approached me at the market. I didn’t know who he was at first, he
just chatted. Flirted with me. I was clueless. I’d never had an
actual relationship with a man before. Drew and I met for coffee a
few times and he eventually told me the U.S. government knew who I
was. Sheila had been on a spree, taking jobs for some guy who
wanted CIA assets in Europe killed. They wanted to hire me to do
their work for a specified period of time before they would give me
a new life somewhere else. I’m pretty sure he mentioned Kansas.”
Her lips flexed into a pseudo-smile for a second.

“My first job was to kill her.”

John studied her as she talked. The darkness
in her eyes and the way her voice had dropped in pitch, she was
someone he barely recognized as the woman he’d eaten lunch with in
her cabin.

“I slipped something in her espresso and
walked away.” Her eyes lifted, pinning him to his chair. “Sometimes
I swear I can still hear her choking.”

Palmer snorted. “You expect us to believe
this crap? Some kind of crazy Stockholm syndrome conveniently
manufactured so it’s not your fault?”

“I never said that.” She turned her head
toward Palmer and her jaw flexed. “I killed those people. I worked
for the CIA long enough to figure out that the guy was stringing me
along. There was no Kansas. But by then Drew and I had married. I
bought a new identity, ready to leave. But he came home while I was
packing.” She pulled up her sleeve to reveal a long, jagged scar
that snaked up her forearm. “I hopped a plane to Virginia and
turned myself in to the FBI.”

“You killed a CIA agent?”

“It was tough, proving he was acting alone
and without authorization. Drew was highly connected in Washington.
I had to come up with more than I’d brought with me in order to
convince them everything I was saying was true. But I did it.”

John studied her. “Witness protection?”

“Drew’s Washington connections hired a guy
who knew my face to come and kill me. He almost got to me twice.
Once in the hospital after I had the baby and once after the
adoptive parents took her home to Spain. I was deemed a flight risk
and sent here to live out my life with no contact with the outside
world except that I can receive mail from Helena’s parents. I’m
restricted from any internet usage and from sending anything out in
the mail.”

“Helena?”

“My daughter.”

John’s head was reeling just taking in the
wealth of information she’d shared. He’d have to read her file and
corroborate it all. But no one with a history like hers needed to
manufacture anything. He had no doubt it was probably all true.

“I knew there was something about you.”
Palmer tossed his to-go container in the trash. “Something I didn’t
like at all.”

“Palmer.” What was with this guy? It was like
he had something personal against her that made him hostile to
everything Andra said or did. “Is there something I should
know?”

The deputy shrugged. “Like what?”

Andra didn’t say anything.

John turned back to the other man. “I’ll take
it from here. You can go home, but we’re going to have a
conversation in the morning. If you’d like to continue being a
deputy then you need to be here at eight-thirty sharp.”

Palmer’s cheeks pinked. He didn’t look at
Andra. “Is she spending tonight in the jail?”

“That depends on Ms. Caleri. She was deemed a
flight risk and earlier inferred it was possible for her to
disappear in order to avoid being arrested.” John didn’t need
Palmer thinking he was deferring to her. “I need time to compare
her fingerprints with what I took from the knife.” He studied
Andra. “Do I need to worry that you’ll take off?”

She opened her mouth but frowned and then
said, “I’m not going to disappear.”

What did she want him to say? Of course he
had to question her intentions. He needed to know she would stick
this out with him until the verdict came in, or the killer was
found. She had to trust he was going to do his job regardless of
what everyone in town thought. Their opinion wasn’t going to sway
him, no matter the pressure.

She looked concerned, but John couldn’t see
any worry on her face or guilt. Just a wary observation of the two
law men in the room, particularly John. Was he supposed to be angry
at her story?

He felt nothing but deeply sad for the child
she’d been, sucked into a world she knew nothing about. The Sheila
woman she’d mentioned had been little more than an abuser, twisting
Andra’s mind. Not only had she survived that, but she’d even fought
for her future. And giving up a baby? No wonder she’d wanted
solitude when she came here.

Palmer scratched the back of his red hair and
stuck his hat back on his head. “I can escort Ms. Caleri back to
her house.”

Andra didn’t react. John figured that meant
she was okay with it. “Very well, Palmer.” He looked at her. “I’ll
be by tomorrow to let you know my assessment of the
fingerprints.”

She stood.

“I shouldn’t need to tell you to lay low.”
John paused a second but she didn’t look at him. “Let me know if
you need anything.”

Palmer held the door and she strode out; chin
high, not even sparing him a glance. “Uh boss?”

John frowned at him.

“She doesn’t have a phone at her place. And
no radio either. She’s off the grid. Couldn’t call for help if she
wanted to.”

The door shut.

John didn’t like it. He didn’t like any of
this.

He pulled up the fingerprint from the knife
on the computer screen and loaded Andra’s prints, starting with the
index finger. He put them side by side and zoomed in, then rotated
Andra’s print until the lines matched. The print on the knife was
the side of the finger pad.

John blew out a breath, sat back and stared
at both pictures. He moved his gaze between them like a grid
search. Whatever he found would have to be confirmed by a lab, but
Justice Simmons would likely grant him an arrest warrant on the
grounds of a good match—even by the naked eye.

His satellite phone rang.

“Sheriff Mason.”

“Nice ring to it; sounds more natural now. I
take it you’re settling in?”

“Yeah, Grant. Thanks.” He sighed. “But I’m
guessing that’s not why you’re calling.”

“Then you guessed right, since the
congressional panel requested Andra Caleri’s file and they’ve been
calling every half hour all day asking for updates.”

John sat up straight. “How do they know she’s
a suspect?”

The back door swung open and Pat bounded in.
John handed him the take out box Palmer had brought for them and
motioned him to the waiting area chairs. Pat grinned at the
contents and dug in to the burger.

“They won’t say how they know but someone
told them. What is going on there?”

John sighed. “Andra’s WITSEC file was
plastered all over the walls of the Meeting House. Now everyone in
town knows she was an—” Pat was in the room. “They know what her
job used to be.”

“So you know?”

“She shared her story with me and Deputy
Palmer.”

“Is she in a cell?”

“The fingerprint on the knife is very
possibly a match to hers. But it’s a partial so I can only say
inconclusive at this point. She’s home for the night. I’ll rouse
her first thing. She needs to come back and answer more questions
at least.”

“Who took the file?”

John gritted his teeth. “I also need to
figure that out.”

“Do it fast.”

“Seriously? It’s been three days since Betty
Collins was murdered. I’m not a miracle worker.”

“Those sound like excuses to me.” Grant
paused. “This doesn’t have anything to do with the fact she’s hot,
does it?”

“Excuse me?”

“No, I don’t think I will. I’m asking you
straight out, John. Is this woman’s…physical appearance affecting
your ability to be impartial? I want an honest answer and not
because Congressman Thane—”

John groaned at the mention of the pompous
windbag from the hearing.

“—is breathing down my neck. The man wanted a
video conference so you could lay out the details of the case.”

“They want me to explain myself?”

“They called it a briefing. But basically,
yeah. They want you to prove you’re doing a good enough job.
They’re pushing for an arrest. They want Andra Caleri detained and
Congressman Thane wants her out of town because he thinks she’s a
danger to the residents.”

“I’m not arresting her just because I need to
provide them with results. I want the truth. And what Andra looks
like—” Or how John might feel about her. “—has nothing to do with
this.”

“I sincerely hope not, brother.”

John glanced up. Pat’s ears were at
attention. Great. Now he was going to have to figure out how to
explain this in a way an eight-year-old would understand the
gravity, would know to have a care around town and would also not
be completely traumatized. “I need the fingerprint analysis,
ASAP.”