For several seconds no one said a word. No one breathed. What had been suspicion on their faces transformed back into disbelief, then utter shock.
“Leigh?” Talia finally asked. “Leigh Smithson?”
“Our Leigh?” Pete whispered.
Chase swallowed again. “Yes.”
“But why?” Nancy asked, her voice cracking. “Why did she do it?”
“We don’t know,” Chase said. His jaw went taut. “Yet. But we will.”
“It makes sense,” Luke said. “The witnesses or suspects who were killed before we could find them. Leigh was feeding Bobby information. Her LUDS showed she called the phone we found in Bobby’s coat.”
Talia slumped in her chair. “But how did she know what happened in here?”
“She put a listening device here, in this conference room,” Ed said.
“I’ll keep you updated on the investigation into Leigh’s motives,” Chase said. “Now, we need to focus on finding Bobby. She’s disappeared. We’re watching Ridgefield House, the bunker on the river, and the house she shared with Garth.”
“We checked her computer,” Luke said. “And her main clients. She doesn’t appear to be with any of them. We’ve checked every Davis relative and nobody’s seen her.”
“What about Granville’s thích?” Susannah asked quietly.
Chase sighed wearily. “I’m not disputing he exists, Susannah, but until we have some evidence that he’s physically done something to someone-”
“He did,” Susannah interrupted. “Monica said he was in the bunker, talking to Granville, that Granville asked him to help break her. Whether this guy laid a hand on Monica or not, he knew she was there. That’s conspiracy to commit kidnapping.”
“She’s right,” Chloe said.
Yes, she is, Luke thought, pride and respect for her swelling anew. Even with all she’d been through, her mind still worked with clockwork precision.
“Besides,” Susannah added. “Maybe that’s where Bobby’s hiding.”
Chase rubbed his temples. “You’re right. Suggestions?”
“We get Darcy’s killer to talk,” Susannah said. “He knows who he is but he’s afraid.”
“I’ll call Al Landers,” Chloe said. “We’ll work on getting through to Darcy’s killer.”
“We’ve got Bobby’s photo posted with every agency in the tristate area and with Customs in case she tries to leave the country,” Chase said.
“Which is only good if she travels under her own name,” Susannah countered.
“You’re right again,” Chase said tightly. “But until we know more, that’s all we can do. We meet again at eight in the morning.”
“Susannah,” Chloe said. “Can you give me a minute? I need to talk to you.”
Susannah remained seated as everyone filed out, as did Luke. Chloe lifted her brows and Luke shook his head, not liking the vibe. “I’m staying, Chloe.”
Chloe shrugged. When the door was closed she turned to Susannah. “Your gun.”
“My father’s,” Susannah said.
“It’s not marked or registered,” Chloe said. “Serial numbers are filed off.”
“I didn’t think to look at serial numbers. I’m sorry.”
Chloe shook her head. “Oh, please. You’re far too smart to make a mistake like that. But let’s move on. You were carrying a concealed weapon without a license.”
“She has one,” Luke protested. “In New York.”
“Not recognized here,” Chloe said. “No reciprocity exists.”
“What’s the point?” Luke asked. He’d known this was coming. Still, it made him mad.
“The point is that every reporter in that room saw Susannah shoot that woman with an unregistered gun she has no license to carry. I can’t let that slide by.”
“For God’s sake, Chloe,” Luke snapped, but Susannah put her hand on his.
“It’s all right. I knew what I was doing when I put the gun in my purse. I knew Bobby would stop at nothing. I knew I was vulnerable. I didn’t want to die. So I took one of my father’s guns and put it in my purse and shot the woman in front of a room full of cameras.” She met Chloe’s gaze. “Will you charge me?”
Chloe looked uncomfortable. “Dammit, Susannah.”
“If I hadn’t had the gun, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Susannah said, calmly. “Bobby had her gun pointed at me from inside her pocket. You know she’d already fired three shots, one that hit me. So I shot her and I’m not sorry.”
“I’m not going to charge you in the shooting,” Chloe said. “It was clearly self-defense. But, Susannah, what kind of example would I be making if I let you get away with breaking the law? What would you do if our roles were reversed? Be honest.”
“I’d have to charge you,” Susannah said.
Luke gritted his teeth. “Susannah.”
“The law is clear, Luke. Chloe doesn’t really have a choice.”
“I know.” Chloe closed her eyes. “Dammit.”
“You said that already,” Susannah said dryly. One side of her mouth lifted. “You wanna sleep on it, Counselor?”
Chloe let out a surprised chuckle, then sobered. “You could get disbarred.”
Susannah’s smile faded. “I know. But I’d rather be disbarred than interred.”
Luke thought of the bullet hole in her blouse again and had to draw a deep breath.
“I’d have done the same,” Chloe murmured. “That’s what makes this so hard.”
“Chloe, I did what I needed to do. You do what you need to do. I won’t fight you.”
“If you did I’d feel better,” Chloe grumbled.
“It’s not my job to make you feel better,” Susannah said evenly.
Chloe glared at her. “Goddamn it. Doesn’t anything rattle you?”
“Yeah,” Susannah said bitterly. “Lots of things, but one in particular comes to mind. What the hell did that reporter mean when he said Garth Davis denied raping me?”
Chloe sighed. “Tomlinson said he got an anonymous tip about the Darcy Williams murder, and that Garth Davis hadn’t raped you, and to check it with Garth himself. He did and Garth confirmed, categorically denying having assaulted you in any way.”
“But my picture…” Susannah closed her mouth.
“Her picture was in that box with the others,” Luke said, stowing his desire to rip Garth Davis’s fucking head off.
“I know,” Chloe said. “I talked to the tech who’s been categorizing the photos. She says there were nude shots and rape shots. She said there were sixteen victims photographed nude, but only fifteen being assaulted. Susannah, you weren’t.”
Susannah stiffened, but said nothing, and Luke remembered their conversation in Monica’s ICU room the day before. He did at least one, she’d said, talking about Simon. How had she known?
“Garth’s lying,” Susannah said softly. Too softly. Her hand that held his trembled.
“We’ll talk to him,” Luke promised. “But not today. I’m taking you home.”
Chloe stood. “I’m gonna sleep on it. I’ll give you my decision tomorrow.”
When Chloe was gone, Luke pulled Susannah into his arms. “It’ll be all right,” he murmured into her hair. “One way or another.”
She hung on tight, her whole body trembling. “How do you know?”
He pressed his lips to her forehead before tipping up her chin to meet her gaze. “Because you’ve survived a hell of a lot worse alone. And you’re not alone anymore.”
Emotions churned in her eyes. The fury and fear he understood. The gratitude made him angry. But it was the hope that made his own eyes sting. She smiled at him then, and leaned up on her toes to brush her lips over his, sending every nerve singing. “Then it’ll be all right. Let’s get out of here. I think I could sleep a year.”
Dutton, Sunday, February 4, 7:45 p.m.
“Goddammit,” Bobby hissed, her lips white with pain. “Be careful.”