Page 96 of Bring Them Home

“Abigail McGee, she’s a local, married to a PWCPD detective from Missing Persons, Lloyd McGee. You might remember the name? She was put into WITSEC eight years ago after overhearing Lucas Hernandez say something on the phone.” Amanda was impressed she maintained a neutral tone given her jumpy nerves.

“Ah, yes, I remember the case.”

That’s all he has to say? A foreboding slithered through her body. “Well, Abigail was murdered this week. Trent and I figured you might want to see justice for her. You know, given she’s a local and the wife of a cop.”

“I might have heard something about that. That’s tragic.”

She imagined the PWCPD’s Public Information Office would have issued a statement of some sort by now.

“It is. Well, Trent and I are here with a request for a few warrants. One is for Hernandez’s arrest.” She paused there as his eyes dilated a fraction. “Another is to apprehend Antonina Martini. And the third is for the authorization to search Hernandez’s residence for the weapons used in the murders of Abigail McGee and Paul Archer.”

“And the supporting documentation for this?”

Trent handed over a folder that held what they had gathered together.

Amanda pulled out her phone and emailed the video to him. “And I just sent you a video that shows Hernandez and Martini with Abigail McGee moments before her death.”

Anderson opened his email and watched that first. Afterward, he said, “Tell me what I’m looking at here.”

“You can see that she’s bound and being forced to go along with them. The direction they are leading her is behind the barn where she was shot and her body was found,” Amanda said matter-of-factly.

“I see.”

“The house you just saw Hernandez and Martini walk out of belongs to Hernandez,” Trent began.

“The house in Haymarket,” Anderson put in.

“That’s right. In the documentation I just handed you”—Trent pointed at it—“you’ll see the lab can place not only Abigail McGee on the property, but also the Archer family.”

Anderson sat back in his chair and swiveled as he studied the contents of the folder.

Amanda’s heart was pounding while they waited to hear his response.

“The search warrant on Hernandez’s residence was previously denied.”

They had disclosed that in the paperwork. It niggled that Anderson made it sound as if he had no hand in that. “It was.”

A few more minutes passed.

Anderson closed the folder, took a deep breath, and didn’t meet their eyes when he spoke. “Yes, I can approve all of the warrants you’ve requested. I’m glad you could bring fresh evidence that allowed for this.”

Is he, though? His mouth was saying one thing while his agitated energy said another. Amanda had come here wanting to be mistaken about Judge Anderson, but was leaving with a very different feeling.

FORTY-NINE

Before leaving the judge’s house, Anderson had asked Amanda and Trent when they planned to execute the warrants. It was another flag in all of this mess that suggested Anderson had something to hide. Trent tried to convince her it might have just been him showing interest. She wasn’t so sure. Was he hoping he’d be out of town by then? Or even worse, did he plan to tip off Hernandez? The search warrant authorized a nighttime execution, giving them a window to search it anytime after 5 PM and until 10 PM.

She called Malone, and they met him at Central. They filled him on their visit to the judge.

“He approved the warrants.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“Time will tell.” That’s the most enthusiasm she could muster. While they could finally arrest Hernandez, the fact her faith in Judge Anderson may have been misplaced made it bittersweet.

“You’re not to execute these warrants on your own. SWAT will be in charge, and other officers will be sent as backup. Am I understood?”

“We were planning to take a more relaxed approach, let Hernandez think we’re just there to talk again,” Amanda told him. “We’ll arrest him and Nina and then serve the search warrant. By that time, he’ll already be cuffed and out the door.”