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“The press conference was clearly damage control, but they talked specifically about Sunflower Group Homes. The podcast didn’t mention Sunflower at all. Violet had never given them the Sunflower information. That was all Colton’s theory, one of the tipping points for Craig. But the Sunflower files aren’t in Craig’s documents.”
Colton tensed. “I gave him everything on Sunflower last week.”
“Let me get this clear,” Kara said. Her head pounded trying to put the information together. “You think that they knew Craig was investigating this Sunflower group and because none of those files were in his office, that they somehow destroyed them because they have someone on the inside? Anything could have happened, including Craig hiding them himself, especially if something in there was explosive.”
Colton said, “Sunflower ties Angel Homes and all the other group homes together. It shows how Zarian’s brother and sister used the system to make millions of dollars. And I had pictures—pictures of every person going into the Sunflower offices over the last six weeks. If they are concerned about something I found, why would they put it out there at all?”
“I don’t know,” Will said, “but why bring it up if they didn’t know we were looking at it? And the only way they could have known we were looking at it is if they had access to Craig’s files.”
“I see your point,” Kara said. “So who had access?”
“Just Craig,” Will said.
“And Peter Sharp,” Colton said. “I’ll be damned.”
“His investigator?” Kara asked. “Why would Sharp be working with these people?” As she said it she knew it could happen. Steve Colangelo was a bad cop. Tom Lee was a bad cop. Why not a bad investigator in the DA’s office? She felt angry and sick to her stomach.
“Craig brought Peter in well after the investigation started, and he didn’t know I was undercover—few people did. Craig, Lex, Elena, Will, Violet. That was it. All Peter knew was that Elena had someone in deep cover.”
“Could he have found out it was you?” Kara asked.
“Not until this week. I’m good, Kara. Just like you.” He shot her one of his charming smiles, but she didn’t smile back. “Anyway, Peter met with Elena and Lex on Monday night. I don’t know what he learned at that meeting, but Elena and Lex trust him.”
“We still don’t have proof that he took evidence,” Kara said, but she was thinking.
Will ran both hands through his hair. “This is fucked.”
“He won’t get away with it,” Colton said.
“The FBI—my team, not LA FBI,” Kara said, “believe the files from Dyson are light. That there are things missing that are referenced in his personal notes. They are operating under the assumption he may have locked up the files or hid them for safekeeping, but Sharp had access to Dyson’s office immediately after the murder and was the first to access it Tuesday morning. He could have hidden the files, destroyed them, taken them. But so could anyone who had access to Dyson’s office.”
“The simplest explanation is usually the correct one,” Colton said. “Sharp knew about Violet’s role and about Chen talking about a deal. He knows about Violet’s history, her work with First Contact, her mother—and that she was working on the computer crash.”
“Why didn’t he have city hall fire her?”
“It’s not easy firing a civil servant, and she’s in the technology department, not working directly for the mayor’s office. But he could keep track of what she knew and what she fed to Craig.”
Kara remembered what Craig told her on Monday. “She had something for him, she was bringing it to him Monday when Chen was killed. But we now have it. So whoever had Chen and Dyson killed only delayed the inevitable.”
“What she had was evidence of how the crash happened and why the deleted files could never be recovered except at the data storage facility. It’s the original backup drive that she needs. And we’re waiting for a warrant to get it. Dammit!” Colton pulled out his phone, pressed a button, frowned. “I can’t make a call.”
Kara grabbed her phone, looked at it.
No signal.
“Someone is jamming our phones,” she said.
She had the awful feeling that they were trapped.
The door rattled, then the glass broke.
There was nowhere to hide.
39
“You doing okay, Violet?”
Michael Harris, the FBI agent who stayed with me in Big Bear last night and kept me in sight since we returned to Los Angeles, sat across from me in the bustling LAPD conference room. He was a large man—not overweight, just big. It didn’t intimidate me because I was tall for a woman, and if I was being honest? I felt safe with him. Safe for the first time since I found my mom living on the streets. It wasn’t that I thought I was in danger. It was that I kept waiting for bad things to happen because they kept happening.
