“I wish I’d known the rest of it. I would have been there years ago.”
“Excuse me.” Luke stuck his head in. “I saw Chloe leave. Are you finished?”
“We are.” She rose. “Luke, this is my boss, Al Landers. Al, Special Agent Luke Papadopoulos. He’s a friend of my brother Daniel.”
“You’re the guy I saw in the hotel hall last night,” Al said as they shook hands. “What are you doing to catch this guy in the black sedan?”
“We’re setting up surveillance at the funeral this afternoon,” Luke said. “And we’d like to talk to the guy who was convicted for Darcy Williams’s murder.”
“I can arrange an interview. What about the other guy, Susannah?” Al looked grim. “The one who assaulted you. Did he know Darcy’s killer?”
Susannah’s cheeks grew hot. “No. They were strangers, too.”
“How do you know for sure?” Luke asked gently, and his implication hit her hard.
“I guess I don’t,” she said. “How stupid were we?”
“Pretty damn stupid,” Al said sadly. “What were you thinking, Susannah?”
“I wasn’t.” She looked away, crossing her arms over her chest. “I met Darcy when she was a waitress in the West Village and I went to NYU. One night I went in for some carryout and we started talking. Turned out we had a lot in common. Both of us had bad relationships with our fathers and mothers who didn’t protect us. Darcy had run away at fourteen, done drugs, the whole nine yards.”
“Whose idea was it to meet the men?” Al asked, and again her cheeks heated.
“Darcy’s. She hated men and then, so did I. She said she wanted to be in control for once. She wanted to be the one to leave the guy in the middle of the night without a thank you. I was appalled at first. Then… I just did it.” And the second time was easier. And the third time a dark thrill. By the fourth time… it shamed her to even think of it.
Al and Luke were looking at each other oddly. “What?” she asked.
“What if Darcy was put up to meeting you?” Luke asked, his voice still gentle.
Susannah’s mouth fell open. “Oh my God. I never…” Her arms went limp at her sides. “That’s crazy.”
“Didn’t you think it odd that both assaults happened on the same day?” Al asked.
Susannah blew out a breath. “Of course. But I’d gone to that hotel of my own free will.” By then it had become a dark obsession. “I chose that date specifically. It was supposed to be my declaration of independence. Later, I told myself it was… an omen. God’s punishment, call it what you want. I’d royally erred and I was paying the price. The date was a message. Clean up or else. It sounds stupid when I say it out loud.”
“You were a victim,” Luke said. “Twice. You weren’t thinking like an ADA, you were thinking like a human being who had to make sense of something horrific. There isn’t any sense to it, though. Bad things sometimes happen to good people. Period.”
I wasn’t a good person. I wasn’t. But she nodded gravely. “I know.”
Luke’s dark eyes flickered and she knew he hadn’t bought her easy acceptance of his words. “What about the man who assaulted you? Can you describe him?”
“Of course. I’ll never forget his face. But what will that help? It was six years ago. The trail went cold a long time ago.”
“We’ll still sit you down with a sketch artist, just in case this guy is still around and involved with that black sedan.” He turned to Al. “How can I talk to Darcy’s killer?”
“Michael Ellis,” Susannah murmured.
Luke frowned. “What did you say?”
“Michael Ellis,” Al supplied. “Darcy’s killer. Why?”
Luke scraped his palms down his stubbled face. “We found two passports in Granville’s firebox. Both had his photo, but neither had his name. One name was Michael Tewes. The other name was Toby Ellis.”
“Sonofabitch,” Al muttered. “Granville set this up.”
“Either with black sedan man or he told him later,” Luke confirmed. “Sonofabitch.”
Susannah sat down, her heart in her throat. “It was all planned,” she said tonelessly, dropping her eyes to her lap. “I was set up. They’ve been laughing at me. All this time.”
Luke crouched in front of her, taking her cold hands in his warm ones. “Granville’s paid. This other guy will, too. Does the name Rocky mean anything to you?”
She shook her head. “No. Should it?”
“We think that’s Granville’s partner’s name.” He gave her hands a squeeze.
She looked up, met his eyes, another thought taking root, just as crazy as the others. But this wasn’t crazy. It was reality. “Simon stalked me. In New York.”
“What do you mean?” Luke asked.
“Daniel didn’t tell you?” she asked, and he shook his head. “When we were in Philadelphia the detectives had several sketches of Simon. He’d become very good at disguise, one of which was an old man. It was how he lured his victims. I recognized the picture. I sometimes saw the old man when I was walking my dog in the park. It was Simon. He’d sit five feet from me and chat, and I never knew it was my own brother.”
“But Simon can’t be Granville’s partner,” Luke said. “Simon’s dead.”
“I know. But…” She sighed. “I don’t know what.”
Luke squeezed her hands. “Just try to relax and keep your eyes open at the funeral. I’m going to be there, too.” He looked at Al over his shoulder. “You’re going?”
“You couldn’t stop me,” Al said grimly.
“Good. We can use all the eyes we can get.”
Ridgefield House, Saturday, February 3, 9:45 a.m.
Bobby hung up the phone, feeling elation and trepidation in equal measures. Paul’s analysis had been spot on as usual and now, after a minimum of persuasion, Bobby had a new informant on the GBI team. But the informant’s information was unsettling. Beardsley not only had lived, he’d talked. The police knew about Rocky. After the nerve she’d shown today, this was Rocky’s final straw.
“Mr. Charles is here to see you,” Tanner said from the doorway.
Meddling old man. “Show him in, Tanner. Thank you.”
Charles came in, dressed in a black suit, his ivory box under one arm. “I thought I’d stop by.” He patted the box. “Maybe play a game of chess.”
“I’m not in the mood for games.” Bobby gestured to a chair. “Sit. Please.”
Charles’s lips twitched condescendingly. “What’s stuck up your craw?”
“DRC119,” Bobby said, and had the pleasure of seeing Charles blink in surprise for the first time ever.
But he recovered quickly, his smile returning. “How did you know?”
“I have a source on the GBI team investigating the incident at the bunker.” Bobby suspected the GBI mole was holding out, but there had been enough information shared to establish an action plan.
“My star pupil,” Charles said mildly.
“Don’t change the subject. Were you driving that black sedan?”
“Of course. I didn’t want to miss the expression on her face.”
“What if you’d been stopped? Caught?”
“Why would I have been stopped? I wasn’t speeding.”
Bobby frowned. “That was an unacceptable risk.”
Charles’s expression went from genial to glacial. “You’re behaving like an old woman.” He leaned forward until their eyes locked. “I taught you better than that.”
Chastised and feeling five years old, Bobby looked away.
Charles settled in his chair, satisfied. “What else did your GBI mole tell you?”
“Beardsley heard Granville talking about Rocky, by name,” Bobby said, subdued. I hate you, old man.
“By Rocky or by her name?”
“Well, by Rocky, but that’s still too close for me.”