“I am. And I wish I had a suggestion for you. But I don’t. I think this might come down to a WITSEC situation, don’t you?”
“WITSEC,” Sierra asked. “What does she mean by that?”
“Officially,” Beau said, “it’s the Witness Security Program. But most people know it by the more colloquial termwitness protection. In return for testifying for the FBI in a case like this, the Feds would give you a new identity and settle you into a new life somewhere else to keep you safe.”
“But…that means giving up your entire life as you know it, right? Never seeing people you know again?” she asked.
“It does. But before you worry about that, consider that you have nothing to bargain with. Your brothers, maybe. You, nothing. You haven’t been involved in your father’s illegal side. So you don’t have anything to offer to the FBI. But I don’t see a point in even going down that rabbit hole because, as I said before, your dad gets out of everything the FBI throws at him. WITSEC isn’t the answer here.”
“Then, what is?” she asked. “There has to be something we can do.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Sierra.” Then he winked.
She stared at him in confusion.
“Fletcher, I’m ending the call now. Thanks for your help. At this point, while we think this through, let’s cancel tonight’s status meeting. And there’s no reason for you all to come out here. I’m not pressing charges against Esteban. Sierra, do you want to press charges?”
She frowned. “Um, no?”
“I’m hanging up now, Fletcher.”
“Sorry about how things turned out,” she said. “We’ll brainstorm here and talk to you tomorrow.”
Beau ended the call and pulled out his pocketknife. He cut the cord tying Rafael’s hands, then took off Esteban’s handcuffs.
They both gave him grateful looks and rubbed their wrists.
When he sat again, Sierra looked up at him. “You really think this is hopeless?”
“There might be another option. But I didn’t want to say it in front of Fletcher.” He grimaced. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this. It goes against everything I’ve always stood for as far as following the law to the letter.”
“Beau, whatever it is, don’t.” Sierra shook her head. “If helping us means you have to cross that line, please don’t. You’d end up hating me down the road, blaming me for compromising your principles. And I couldn’t live with myself for doing that to you.”
“He has an idea,” Esteban said. “Let the man talk.”
“Shut up, Esteban,” she and Rafael both said.
He rolled his eyes and sank against the back of the couch.
“I’m not finished.” Beau turned to face Sierra. “If the law can’t protect you, then what’s the point of having laws? I got into this business to protect people, to get justice. And in this case, the law and justice are two completely different things. True justice would mean prosecuting your father for your mother’s death.I’m not sure I can do anything to get that justice for you, and I’m really sorry about that. But there might be something we can do to get justice for you and your brothers. Meaning, there might be a way to secure your protection so you can go on living your lives and not be afraid.”
She frowned. “How?”
“We do what your mother tried to do.”
“I don’t—wait, are you talking about the evidence she hid?”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about. We need to find that evidence. If we read her journal, maybe we can find clues that help us understand where she hid the evidence. Even if the journal doesn’t help, we can search anywhere you and your brothers believe she might have hidden the documentation. It would be somewhere not too far away so she could access it. But it would be somewhere your father wouldn’t think to look. Esteban, you said she mentioned in the journal that she put it somewhere, what,special? Is that the exact word she used?”
“A special, safe place.That’s what she wrote.”
“Did your mother ever spend much time outside your property? Maybe with friends in another town?”
“Not really. I mean, the country club, some. Church, of course. Mainly, though, she was content to stay home and paint or do gardening.”
“A garden. That would be special to her. Would your father think to search there?”
“Probably. It seems a little too obvious.” This time it was Rafael who spoke. “She also loved the library, the one in the mansion. It’s huge, three stories tall. There are probably over a million books in there.” His eyes widened. “Dad isn’t much of a reader. And even if he thought the evidence was there, I can’t see him spending the time to search that many books. He wouldn’t trust anyone else to search either. He wouldn’t want to risk them finding the evidence and using it against him.”
