“And when she didn’t cave—oh, no.” Lucy realized Adeline’s mistake. “If Contreras is working for Tobias, he knew that Adeline was talking to us, and once we got her into FBI headquarters, she might tell us everything. So he killed her and ran.”
“He must have planned it from the beginning,” Brad said. “Tobias is not spontaneous.”
“He put Contreras in her organization to keep an eye on her. For years.”
“Or he recruited Contreras,” Barry suggested.
“True,” Brad said. “Either way, he must have figured out the FBI had an undercover operation. He had access to everything—her house, her finances, her friends, her campaign information.”
“What if,” Lucy said, “Contreras became suspicious of Harper? Contreras lived in the house. What if he saw the change in Harper’s demeanor? But he took it more seriously than Adeline and had him followed. He could have known he’d gone to the FBI in May. What if they thought Harper was the FBI informant? And didn’t know about Dunbar’s operation?”
Barry nodded. “At first I didn’t see where you were going with this, but now it makes sense. If they suspected Harper was working with the FBI, they would follow him, and that’s how they found out about Gary Ackerman. Harper needed someone he trusted, and the only person he could be certain wasn’t involved in Adeline’s criminal enterprise was an old friend from school with a loyalty to their mutual friend Roy Travertine.”
“So Ackerman helped Harper put together the details. Because of Ackerman’s work with Travertine, he’d know more about campaigns and campaign finance law than Harper, but Harper knew about money and numbers, and together they figured out what Adeline was doing.”
“It still doesn’t explain why Harper flew into San Antonio just to meet with Ackerman.”
“If Tobias knew about Ackerman and Harper, he could have figured out how they were communicating and sent Harper a message to meet. We know they met in different places each time,” Lucy said. “Ackerman was paranoid, so the request for a spontaneous meeting might not have seemed odd to Harper.”
When they pulled up in front of Everett’s house, the lights were on and an SAPD police car was parked out front. The three of them got out of the car. Barry showed his badge and introduced them.
“We checked on the family. There’re three people inside, Mrs. Everett and her two children, a teenage boy and a young girl.”
“Where’s her husband?”
“Mrs. Everett said he was working late.”
“Can you stay out here and watch the house? One of Mr. Everett’s associates was murdered, and we have reason to believe the killer may be after Mr. Everett,” Barry said.
“Yes, sir.”
Barry stepped away from the police car and said to Brad and Lucy, “We need to go to his office.”
“I want to check on the family first. Mrs. Everett might know more than she told the police,” Lucy said.
“You think she’s part of it, too?”
“I’m not making any assumptions. But we need to talk to her, find out what she knows.”
“Go ahead. I’ll call Juan and send a couple of agents to Everett’s office, then check the perimeter, make sure the house is secure.”
Lucy and Brad walked up the path to the front porch. Security lighting around the house showed neatly trimmed bushes and trees. The house itself was a two-story brick structure on a large double lot, but it had a cookie-cutter feel to it and looked like most of the other two-story brick houses in the area. Lucy loved the custom house Sean had found for them; it was unlike any other in their neighborhood.
She knocked on the door. A moment later, a woman answered.
“Yes?”
She showed her badge and Brad flashed his. “I’m FBI Special Agent Lucy Kincaid. This is Agent Brad Donnelly. We’re looking for Mrs. Everett.”
“That’s me,” she said. “The police were already here.” She looked over Lucy’s shoulder. “Oh, they still are.” She frowned. “I just spoke to my husband, and he said he’ll be home soon. Now I’m getting worried.”
The woman in front of her had short, stylish brown hair and blue eyes. She was taller than Lucy’s five feet eight inches, and looked about thirty. She was certainly not Mrs. James Everett—not the woman Lucy had seen in the photograph in Everett’s office.
She would have walked away then, except there were two children in the house. That meant they were in danger.
“There’s no reason to be alarmed,” Lucy said. “Would you mind if we came in and sat with you until your husband returns?”
“Why?” she asked.
“We need to talk to him.”
“Why does the FBI need to talk to my husband? What’s wrong?”
The woman was a good actress. Lucy would take her down now, except she wasn’t confident that there wasn’t someone else in the house with her. Until she knew the children were safe, Lucy had to go along with this charade.
“Ma’am, we understand your concern,” Brad said, taking Lucy’s cue, “but I can assure you that we’re only here to help.”
“Thank you, but I think it’s best if you wait outside.”
Lucy put her foot inside the door. “Mrs. Everett, where are your children?”