“Circumstances have changed. That deal is off the table. Permanently.”
If Kathryn had been hooked up to the heart monitor, it would have showed a terrible jolt. Though she shouldn’t be surprised that Brooke Lee no longer needed her testimony. Madison was cooperating.
“I see. So, can I assume that another witness came forward?”
“If I had a witness, you think I would tell you? Not if I want to keep them alive.”
She knew what that meant. The room tilted around her. They’d found Doug’s body. And they blamed her somehow.
“I’m texting you a photo taken by the security camera at the rear entrance to the Belvedere garage last night at nine thirty P.M. The same location where Douglas Kessler was found shot to death just an hour ago. Take a look. Tell me if you recognize the woman in the photo.”
The clone phone buzzed with a text. Kathryn opened it with a pit of dread in her stomach, already knowing what she would see. Herself, dressed in black, wearing a dark wig. It was almost laughable. She couldn’t have looked more like a criminal if she tried.
“I didn’t kill him.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I know who did, and I can prove it.”
“I’m sure you do know. Look, I’d love to take your co-conspirators down. But not at the cost of working with someone as sleazy as you. You’re entrusted with the most sacred office in our legal system, and you perverted it for personal gain. You’re a killer at least two times over that we know of. Brad McCarthy, and now Douglas Kessler. You could plead guilty to every charge in the book, Judge Conroy, and I would still never work with you. But I will bring you to justice, and that’s a promise.”
Kathryn dropped the call. Her hands were shaking. She felt cold and sick. All along, she told herself that she didn’t trust the feds and didn’t want their help. Now she realized that she’d been counting on it. There was no plan B. If Brooke Lee wouldn’t give her a new name, a new face, a new life, then she lacked the resources to do that for herself. If the feds didn’t take her into protective custody and arrest her enemies, she’d be killed. It was that simple. And not just Kathryn. Her mother and daughter, too. Even her cat. She’d left Lucy behind at the town house because she had no other choice in the moment, but in her mind it was temporary. She’d been counting on the FBI to go pick up her cat and bring her to whatever safe house they stashed Kathryn in. She had no plan to get Lucy back.
“Kathy.”
“Mom. You’re awake.”
“Are those tears for me? I’m still here, you know. Let’s not waste time blubbering,” Sylvia said, her voice weak but clear.
Kathryn hadn’t even realized she was crying. She swabbed her eyes with the back of her hand and forced a smile.
“I’m so happy to hear you sounding like yourself,” she said.
“Who else would I sound like? Did you see Grace?”
“Yes. She ran away and hid.”
Sylvia started to laugh but ended up wincing in pain. Kathryn bent over her in an agony of worry.
“I’m fine,” her mother said, waving her off. “You look worse than I do. Is something wrong?”
“You want a list? My daughter doesn’t know me. My mother is”—she stopped herself from saying dying—“hospitalized. My psycho half brother wants to murder me. The feds want to lock me up for murders I didn’t commit. My cat got left behind when I ran. I need to start a new life in a new country that has no extradition treaty, but I don’t have the cash.”
“Well, that’s quite a tale of woe.”
“Yes, it is. Any bright ideas for how to deal with it?”
“You need money? I thought you had the funds squared away. Isn’t that what you were supposed to be doing all this time?”
“I skimmed what I could. It wasn’t enough. They watch too closely. I was planning to rip off Ray’s bank account, to be honest. But with the feds closing in, he moved the money offshore. I don’t know where it is now.”
“Did you look on his computer?”
“How would I do that?”
“I have the keys to his office and all his passwords. Now, granted, they’re five years old. But Ray never updated a thing in his life.”
“Well, jeez. Why didn’t you say so?”
* * *
Ray’s office was located on a side street near Government Center in a building that had seen better days. Kathryn peered through the streaky glass door into the dingy lobby, then let herself in using Sylvia’s key. It was nine-thirty at night. The lights were on in the lobby, but the place seemed deserted. This wasn’t the sort of building where people toiled till midnight. Still, she was nervous as she waited for the ancient elevator. The smell of it when she got in—a combination of sweat, brass polish, and the oil they used to keep it running—took her back to that summer after college, working for Ray as a file clerk. She’d been so shocked at the parade of grifters and thugs and losers who were his clients. It was an education all right, but she hadn’t learned her lesson.
On the fifth floor, her feet found their way to his door. Suite 5100 was an overblown title for two little rooms with wall-to-wall carpet looking out onto an air shaft. But “Raymond J. Logue, Esq., Attorney at Law” still had a ring to it, of a man with a wad of cash in his pocket, a bottle in the bottom drawer, and connections at city hall. She shook her head, smiling, as she raised the key to the lock.
It didn’t fit.
Why was she surprised? With everything that had happened in the last five years, even someone as disorganized as Ray would think to change the locks. She had nothing on her that could be used to force it, and if she had, she wouldn’t know what to do with it. As she considered her options, her eye traveled upward. Shit. Something else had changed since she’d been here last. Ray had installed a security camera, and it was pointed right at her. Did he check the feed regularly? Was it one of those that dinged his phone when someone came to the door, like at the town house? If so, he just saw her try to break in. He was probably on the phone with Charlie right now, giving up her location.
Forget the money. She had to get out of here.
She ran down five flights, out the door, and around the corner to where she’d left Sylvia’s Volvo. Looking over her shoulder, she slid into the driver’s seat. There was hope. No one had followed her yet. If they did show up, they wouldn’t recognize this car, which had New Hampshire plates and was registered to a person they’d never heard of. She could get away clean—if not for one problem.
She had to go back for her cat.
At that hour, the drive to the town house took less than ten minutes. She parked a few blocks away, skulking through the alley on a reconnaissance mission to make sure they weren’t lying in wait. The house was dark. The only car parked behind it was her own SUV. She went around, cautiously approaching the front of the house. None of the cars on the block appeared occupied. The people walking dogs in the park were too well-dressed to work for Charlie. It seemed like nobody was watching, which surprised her, since the house was the obvious place to look for her. Did they think she’d be too smart to come back here? Hah, they were wrong.