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Authors: DiAnn Mills

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BOOK: Deadlock
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CHAPTER 17

10:57 A.M. WEDNESDAY

Thatcher’s mind spun with Danford’s confession as he drove the short distance from the Galleria to the FBI office. He doubted Alicia had told anyone about the attraction, but had anyone else at the office picked up on it?

Traffic brought them to a halt, frustrating when he had a job to do. “Can’t believe this. Bumper-to-bumper and no reason why.”

Bethany reached for her phone. “I’ll check to see if there’s been an accident. Could
 
—”

Something sailed by Thatcher’s face, splintering the driver’s side window and sounding like someone had thrown gravel. A bullet! A sound he’d recognize anywhere.

He whipped his car onto the shoulder and out of the way of oncoming vehicles. Ducking, he drew his firearm while snapping his attention to Bethany, who sat stunned.

“Get down!”

When she didn’t move, he pushed her face into her lap. He bent below the steering wheel.

“What’s wrong with you?” He caught himself before destroying any confidence she might have. “Focus. The shot came from my side.” He released her.

“I froze,” she said through a ragged breath. “I wasn’t prepared for this. Thinking about the case and
 
—”

“An agent is always prepared.” He exhaled to control his anger while waiting for another bullet to whiz by. He studied her. No blood. A hole on the passenger’s side window indicated the bullet’s exit. Shattered glass that looked like rock salt covered her lap and arm. She trembled. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Her firm response didn’t match her white knuckles, telling him she was berating herself.

A car horn blared behind him, and he resumed his driving position to pull as far right as possible. How could they return fire in creeping traffic?

Bethany rose, peering in every direction with her weapon in hand. “I’m sorry. Haven’t been involved in a firefight for a long time.”

“Get your training pants on.” He bit back another remark while zeroing in on other vehicles. This wouldn’t work between them when he couldn’t trust her. He opened the door and stepped out to ensure no one else had been targeted. “Your performance is that of a rookie.”

“It won’t happen again,” she said.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

She looked all around them, the shattered glass still on her lap. “Don’t close the book on me, okay?” Her cell chirped with a text as she stepped out of the car and continued to scan the traffic to their left. “Do you see anyone?”

“Not a thing suspicious. The left lane has sped ahead. We’ll take a look at the traffic cams once we’re back at the office.”

Her cell sounded the text reminder.

“Is that important?”

She grabbed her phone. “Lucas is at it again.”

“What did he say?”

“That he’s not finished with me. ‘Don’t sleep.’”

A chill snaked its way up his spine. “Are you sure the sender is your brother?”

“Oh yeah. He’s done this kind of thing for years. I’ve got it handled.”

Thatcher doubted Lucas could be controlled by anything but
a locked cell. “Radio in the shooting and arrange for the FBI to pick up my Mustang and deliver a loaner car.”

A delay they didn’t need.

12:03 P.M. WEDNESDAY

Bethany sensed Thatcher standing in the door of her cubicle, and willing him away wouldn’t cause him to leave.

“Do you need something?” she said, shoving an experienced agent tone into her words.

“Checking on you.” He handed her a Diet Dr Pepper. “Did you eat?”

She frowned.

“Just asking.”

“Not yet.”

“I was hard on you.”

Actually, he wasn’t hard enough. “I could have gotten us or innocent people killed.”

“You can’t undo life. We move on and learn from our mistakes. I’ve jumped into things that should have gotten me killed. Adrenaline is my high, and I thrive on it.”

When he smiled, her pulse sped and she caught her own emotions. “Appreciate your grace. Can’t believe the traffic cams didn’t provide any more of a lead than a string of vehicles hurtling down the interstate.”

“We were followed and targeted. Scorpion is nervous.”

After her blunder, she refused to argue with him. “What about your car?”

“Initially, all they have is a couple of bullet holes. Lab’s checking it out. What’s Lucas drive?”

“Chromed-out Harley. I looked after the shooting but didn’t see him.” She shook her head. “He’s a bully. No way would he risk his freedom for revenge, especially by firing at federal agents. I have to think this through.”

“Okay.”

“The woman who schedules appointments at
Pap
á
’s shop is a friend. I’ll text her.” And she did.

“We have updates, thanks to the other agents on the cases,” he said. “Traffic cameras in and around the two murders cleared. The landscaping company Ruth Caswell used has not done business for the Javons or Danford Accounting. Neither did the victims use the same housekeeping services. Backgrounds are in the works for employees who cleaned both homes. Nick Caswell affirmed no repairs of any type had been completed to his mother’s home in over a year, and Mae Kenters always brought her own food. Blood types, insurance companies, and health provider reports are incomplete.”

Bethany’s head spun, and her stomach sounded like a cannon. “Can we grab lunch?”

“For one small person, you have the loudest growl.”

“My stomach, right?” Irritation crept in with her hunger issues. “Let me fill you in, Thatcher. I’m also a victim of a disease called hangry.”

“What’s that?”

“I get angry when I don’t eat.”

“Sure you don’t want to drive over to see Paul Javon?”

She raised a finger. “Good call. I’d like to have his girlfriend’s name.”

They choose a deli near the office. As she eased into his car, her stomach protested again. How embarrassing.

“I pulled out my stash of snacks from the Mustang.” He flipped up the console between them. “Here’s dried fruit and nuts, peanut butter crackers, and PowerBars.”

No one had ever looked out for her like this, and gratitude rolled through her. “I thought you were transferring personal things into a plastic bag when we got the loaner. You got these for me?”

“Yes. Don’t want my partner going into diabetic shock.”

Thatcher believed she couldn’t do her job because of health issues. “I’m fine.”

“How about ‘thank you’?”

“I’m sorry. Yes, thank you for your thoughtfulness.”

At the deli, they ordered at the counter and found a corner booth near a side exit. Her controllable-without-meds diabetes would never come between her and her job.

“You have the shakes,” he said.

“Not for long.” A text from her friend confirmed Lucas had been at the shop with
Papá
since nine thirty. “Glad I made sure he wasn’t up to no good.”

“Me too. Neither of us are on his friend list.”

“We have something in common.” She stared into his dark-brown eyes, nearly hypnotized by their depths.
Stop it, girl!
“Did you believe Danford?” she said.

“Innocent of anything except being in love with Alicia. Not a hint of anything to discredit him.”

She unwrapped her utensils from a thick paper napkin. “How did you know he was in love with Alicia?”

“His eyes softened when he spoke her name.”

She hadn’t seen it. “And what if he’d denied his attraction?”

“Are you going to buck my every move?”

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“You tell me.”

His face tightened, and she regretted her lack of restraint. Disrespecting her father last night, messing up the earlier shooting, and now insulting her partner.
Please, God, help me. Is the constant juggle of this investigation and my family’s issues setting me up for a fall?
She liked Thatcher. He treated her respectfully even when she deserved a shutdown, and he was entitled to the same from her. “Thatcher, I apologize. I’m being an oversensitive, irritating woman. No excuse.”

“I’d rather have a spunky partner. Tell me, what would you have done before asking Danford about his relationship with Alicia?”

She took a deep breath. “I’d have checked security cameras in the building, pulled phone records, and had a few facts before I posed it. Carly mentioned Javon’s girlfriend, but with Danford you had nothing but your gut.”

He smiled with no condemnation. “Maybe you’re just hangry.”

She shrugged. “How long did it take you to learn the job?”

“Still learning.”

A server set their food before them
 
—for Bethany, a wild salmon salad, and for Thatcher, a roasted turkey breast club. She said a quick, silent prayer, then dug into her meal. After a few bites, she scrolled through messages. “Danford’s alibi in Dallas checked out.” She glanced into Thatcher’s face. “And Alicia did file a restraining order, but it wasn’t served.”

“I’m suggesting surveillance on Javon.” He took a bite of his sandwich. “His girlfriend might be persuaded to talk, once we locate her.”

Their cells buzzed with a message, and she checked hers first. “The comparison of those who attended Alicia’s memorial and Ruth’s funeral are in, and we have no similarities.”

“I still want to run the photos against facial recognition. Long shot, but who knows?”

She studied him, a man who believed their partnership had the potential to be unstoppable. Would they ever see eye-to-eye on a case, or would their methods delay solving two murders?

“Your eyes glaze over when you concentrate,” he said.

“Always thinking. I hope Carly Javon moved in with her aunt and uncle.”

“Call her.”

She pressed in the young woman’s cell number and waited. The call went to voice mail. “Hey, Carly, this is Special Agent Bethany Sanchez. Checking in to make sure you’re okay.” After requesting the young woman return her call, she pulled up her contact information and phoned the landline Carly had given for her aunt and uncle, Anita and Ken Cooke. A woman answered.

Bethany confirmed the woman was Anita Cooke and introduced herself. “I’m looking for Carly Javon. She gave me your number if I couldn’t reach her directly.”

“Is this the agent she’s been speaking with?”

“Yes, ma’am. Is she available?”

“Yes, of course. I needed to make sure her dad wasn’t up to one of his tricks again. The man needs to be locked up permanently. Let me get her for you.”

A few moments later Carly responded.

“So glad you made the move.”

“Thanks. I found something you might be able to use. I’m now sure my mother’s death was no surprise to my dad.”

An alarm triggered for the young woman’s safety. “What have you learned?”

“I’d rather discuss it with you in person.”

“Okay,” Bethany said slowly. “Did you put yourself in danger?”

“Depends on how you look at it.”

“How soon are you available?”

“I can be there at three thirty.”

“Good.” She’d seen the results of family disputes in the streets and the repercussions of violated civil rights. Maybe she hadn’t heard God correctly when she prayed about the change in divisions. “Carly, I have no idea what you’ve been doing, but I’m concerned.”

“What would you do if your mother had been murdered?”

CHAPTER 18

3:30 P.M. WEDNESDAY

Bethany and Thatcher observed Carly Javon through one-way glass. She sat alone in an interview room. An ugly bruise on the left side of her face shone through a generous layer of makeup. Her hair was combed, and she wore jeans and a Rice University T-shirt.

Bethany hated this for Carly
 
—the scars might never heal. “Looking at her makes me want to cuff her dad personally.”

“What if her injuries have nothing to do with Alicia’s murder?”

“It would at least get the jerk off the streets.”

“Are you going to persuade Carly to press charges against dear old Dad?” Thatcher said.

“Her mother wouldn’t have filed charges, but she’s spunky.”

Bethany opened the door to the interview room. “Carly, what’s the story on your face?”

“The truth or a lame excuse?” She stared wide-eyed.

Bethany liked her. Now to see if she had the courage to nail her dad. “What do you think?”

“He didn’t like the idea of me living with my aunt and uncle. Or taking my violin.”

“Did you let yourself back into the house?”

“I did, and he surprised me. Not pretty.” Carly clenched her jaw.

“How about allowing us to arrest him?” She eased onto a chair across from the girl. Thatcher joined them.

“Where do I sign? I came to you instead of the police because I trust you.”

“Begin with what happened.”

“He accused me of lying to you about his and Mom’s relationship. He threatened my aunt and uncle. He also told me I was just like my mother and deserved whatever happened to me.”

The coward needed to be stopped. “Was Shannon there?”

“She had a class.”

“So you’re ready to fight back?”

“I want him found guilty for his hand in killing my mother. Agent Sanchez, I’m convinced he knows how my mother died.”

“Why?”

“I should have told you this sooner. Sorry. Mom confided in me about leaving him. I wanted to find out what he’d been doing online, so I searched through his deleted e-mails. If he’d been smart, he’d have permanently gotten rid of them. Anyway, four days before Mom was killed, he sent an inquiry to their attorney requesting a change in their wills, specifically that Mom didn’t name Carly and me as beneficiaries, just him. He also wanted to know if the trust fund had him listed in the event Shannon and I were no longer alive.” She drew in a sob. “I didn’t see where the attorney responded.”

No indication of those deleted e-mails had been reported by the investigators. Had they been permanently erased after Carly had seen them? “Was it the same computer we imaged?” Thatcher said.

“No. He has a laptop. He had plenty of time to hide or destroy evidence.”

Bethany took the young woman’s hand. “We realize how difficult this is for you.”

Carly nodded. “If he’s not stopped, he’ll hurt my aunt and uncle. Maybe kill them too.” She reached inside her purse and pulled out a tissue. “You called at the right time. I’m angry and I ache all over. Ready to do whatever it takes to have him arrested for murder, beginning with what he did to me last night.”

“Excellent decision. What about your sister?” Bethany said.

“I think she’s okay.” A sad smile with a cracked and bleeding lip. “Shannon is so afraid of Dad that she’d never say a thing against him. But I have my priorities, and it’s not bowing to him. None of this will stop me from getting my education. Mom set up a trust fund for me and Shannon a few years ago so we can finish and go on to grad school. Actually there’s enough for doctorate work too. I could live on my own, but my aunt is Mom’s sister, and I care about her.”

“Does your aunt or uncle have any information about your mother’s death? Do we need to question them?”

Carly shook her head. “My mother didn’t want to involve them. They’ve always come to me with worry about Mom.”

“Do you think your father was serious about changing and just couldn’t?”

She snorted. “No. I think it was a front, the good guy role. The other woman probably has a lot to do with it. I mean, he had what he wanted
 
—Mom supporting him and the girlfriend. When I was back home last night, I tried to find his girlfriend’s name and Mom’s cell phone. I don’t believe for a minute it was stolen. But Dad keeps his bedroom door locked. Got caught before I could break in.”

Bethany captured Thatcher’s attention for him to take over. “We have a search warrant for your parents’ home,” he said. “Although your father gave us permission without one. You’re a brave girl to come here twice to help. Can you tell me if any home repairs were done in the last few months?”

“No.”

“Pizza deliveries?”

“Sure. Always used the same restaurant because they had coupons.” When he handed her a pad of paper, she wrote the company and phone number.

“Have you learned anything new about Mom’s murder?”

“We’re making progress.”

Bethany wished he’d agree with her about Paul Javon’s guilt.

“You’ve helped us so much today,” Thatcher said. “And you’re filing charges before you leave, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Your mom would be proud of you.”

“I hope so. At least while he’s in jail, he won’t be hurting anyone.”

Bethany refused to discount a threat to the Javon girls. “Have you talked Shannon into moving out?”

“She doesn’t think Dad will hit her. I told her I used to feel the same way until he bloodied my nose. But I’m not giving up. She has a boyfriend, and he knows about the problems at home.”

Could be another violent crime. “Promise me and Agent Graves you’ll not go back into your dad’s house for any reason. It’s much too dangerous.”

“Even when he’s in jail? Doesn’t matter. I have to learn the truth.”

“There’s nowhere you could look for anything the FBI hasn’t already detailed,” Bethany said.

Carly smiled. “Probably not.”

BOOK: Deadlock
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