Page 57 of Flash Freeze

“Murder?” Kerrington straightened, her eyes rounding. “No one’s mentioned murder.”

“We’re planning to release that detail to the press this afternoon,” Bach told her, backing up his press conference ploy. “The coroner has confirmed that Mr. Nolan died from a blow to the head before the explosion and subsequent fire gutted the office where his body was found.”

With a surprised and confused expression, she turned to her lawyer. “Claire?”

The powerful Adebayo remained as silent and unyielding as a stone, his presence more symbolic than essential.

Ms. Buchanan responded with equal surprise. “This is the first I’ve heard of it.” She swung her gaze to Athena, her nonchalance shattered. “You can’t think Keaton had anything to do with that. The boy won’t even harm a mouse, uses those catch-and-release traps. He only took that job because Lone Star didn’t have any junior positions open when he graduated, and I told him he could gain experience at Gulf Allied. You can’t possibly think he—”

“We’ve spoken with Mr. Walsh, as you are aware,” Bach said.

Buchanan’s brows narrowed. “You tapped his phone? Of course you did. I’d like to see the warrant.”

Bach produced a copy from his folder and slid it across the table to her. She studied it with a frown and pushed it back. “Then you know he had nothing to do with the bomb or killing the EPA inspector.”

“Mr. Walsh is not under suspicion of arson or murder at this time,” Athena stated, giving the lawyer a look that said, You, on the other hand …

“Ms. Kerrington,” Bach said in his tough-cop voice, “isn’t it true that Lone Star Industrial’s Houston facility was the next plant on Mr. Nolan’s list to inspect, and, if he weren’t dead, he’d be starting his inspection next week?”

She gaped at him. “Yes, but we have nothing to hide.”

“You received citations in the past,” Athena reminded her.

Buchanan answered in her stead. “Yes, but unlike Mr. Whitmore, Lone Star made all necessary corrections. And what purpose would killing Mr. Nolan serve? The EPA would just send somebody else. This line of questioning is preposterous.”

Athena felt as if they were grasping at straws. Still, she pressed on. “Ms. Kerrington, I know you had eyes and ears in Gulf Allied’s office. They reported to you or your attorney things of interest. Now, assuming these ‘little birdies’ were not stealing corporate secrets for you, surely you learned something from them.”

Kerrington looked at Buchanan for approval. The lawyer relaxed her defensive posture and nodded.

“Perhaps, in the course of casual conversation, the dilapidated state of their plant came up,” the CEO said. “And someone might have voiced concern over financial discrepancies. They might have thought Whitmore was selling products off the books—either that, or someone was stealing from him under his nose. Either is believable. The man is so self-absorbed and arrogant, his attention always on other matters.”

Amanda Kerrington’s expression softened, expressing genuine sorrow. “I wish none of this had happened. We wanted Inspector Nolan to do his job. If Gulf Allied was shut down after a legitimate inspection, Houston buyers would turn to Lone Star.”

“You see, Agent Bouvier, Detective Bach,” Buchanan said triumphantly. “We had no reason to sabotage Gulf Allied or to want the inspector dead. Amanda has told you everything we know. As to your claims of spying on the competition, I challenge you to prove it. People talk, and it isn’t a crime.”

CEO Kerrington leaned forward, pinning Athena with a serious gaze. “I heard you arrested the manager, Mr. Booker. He struck me as concerned, doing the best he could with an unpleasant situation.”

“We can’t comment on Mr. Booker or his arrest,” Bach answered. “It’s a separate matter. Let me make myself clear. If you are holding back even the slightest detail pertaining to the bombing, murder, and deaths of three Gulf Allied employees, I’ll have you arrested for obstruction of justice. Ms. Buchanan, a conviction could cost you your law license. Do you ladies understand?”

The women shared a grave look, and Buchanan answered. “We understand. Honestly, we weren’t involved in that tragedy and don’t know who was, or why.”

“Very well,” Athena concluded. “Thank you for coming in, especially considering the weather. Drive safely out there. The first responders are busy enough without another wreck to deal with.”

“I assure you, we shall,” said Adebayo as he pushed up from the table. He extended a hand to Amanda, and she took it with a sly smile.

“We’re all concerned for the well-being of our first responders,” she said. “And I truly hope you catch the person responsible.”

Athena watched as Bach escorted them out. I take it you did your homework too, Amanda. The knowing gleam in the CEO’s eye gave her pause. What if truly bad people found out about Flash? Athena would have to make a solid decision, and soon, between what her heart wanted and keeping Flash safe from her enemies. She knew what Flash would say, but she didn’t deal with ruthless career criminals and deranged psychotics every day.

John and Samuel have wives and kids. The job hasn’t put them in danger. Then she remembered that former Agent Anthony Daniels had been compromised when the cartel threatened his family. Flash wasn’t like an FBI wife, though. She ran into burning buildings without hesitation, strong and brave to a fault. This wasn’t something Athena could just unilaterally decide. Flash wouldn’t stand for it.

We need to talk about it, she determined. But first, that entitled Charles Whitmore.

Chapter 27

Despite the FBI building running on backup generators, the interview room remained uncomfortably chilly when Athena and Bach returned from a short break. The room wasn’t the only thing meant to intimidate. Its sterile atmosphere, metal table and chairs, and harsh fluorescent lights were matched by the billionaire and his elite attorney from Prescott, Sterling & Caldwell LLP. CEO Charles Whitmore wore a gunmetal gray three-piece suit, a Stetson felt hat, and a granite-carved expression. His attorney, a White man in his fifties, regarded them with practiced superiority as he adjusted his diamond-studded silver cufflinks. Unimpressed, Athena strode to her chair and sat as though neither man had made the slightest impression.

“Assistant Special Agent in Charge Athena Bouvier and HPD Detective Elyan Bach, beginning interview with CEO Charles Whitmore and his attorney. This interview is being recorded.”