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“For every penny I could get,” she said. “Moved up here, bought a little apartment building. I live in one of the units and rent out the rest. My life is quiet, simple. I like it that way.”
“I gather you had to sign an NDA?” Nick asked.
“You gather right, which is why I didn’t want to talk at Raff’s.”
“You don’t think he still has men on you?”
“I just don’t know,” she said. “I figure with Leland running for office, I’m probably safe. Attention on me could bring attention on Leland…”
“But?”
“But… I haven’t really felt safe since I cut a deal with Frederick Walker. I still wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, sure that I hear glass breaking or someone jimmying the locks on my front door.” She drew in a deep breath and stood. “Anyway, talking about this is freaking me out. I should go before it gets dark.”
He rose to his feet, reached into his pocket, and withdrew his business card. “If you ever need anything, call. I can be here with help in less than an hour.”
She took it, her eyes colored with surprise.
“Thanks.” She started to walk away, then turned around to look at him. “Your friend, the woman in the accident, does she live alone?”
Nick nodded with his heart in his throat.
“If you plan to keep asking questions, you should tell her to lock her doors. Tell her to keep them locked.”
26
Alexa woke with a start, the music still playing softly from her laptop, half on her lap and half on the sofa where she’d fallen asleep. Had she heard something? Something from the back of the apartment? Or had that been a dream?
Her head was fuzzy from the glass of wine she’d allowed herself while working on her list of enemies, and she sat up straight, her heart pounding against her rib cage.
She turned off the music and listened. The apartment was quiet, but under the quiet there was something else, the silence she heard when she went hiking and the birds stopped singing, the absence of sound, the presence of something unseen.
Or maybe she was just being paranoid.
She eased off the couch, her eyes on the dark hallway leading to her office and bedroom. The only light emanated from the small table lamp next to the couch. She’d lived in the apartment for over three years, knew every inch of it, but it suddenly seemed sinister, the shadows unfamiliar.
She clutched her phone, debating the merits of calling the police while she made her way to the kitchen. She quickly discarded the idea. She wasn’t some damsel in distress. She was an Assistant Attorney General, and there was no real indication there was anyone in her apartment. What could she say? I was passed out on the couch and thought I heard something but I’m too afraid to investigate?
If every person in the city who felt that way called the police they’d need to double the size of the force.
No. She could handle this. It was probably nothing, and she had her phone in case it turned out to be something.
She hesitated over the knife block next to the stove and removed the big chef’s knife from its sheath. Then she started for the hall.
27
The sun had set, the sky unfurling a blanket of darkness when Nick headed back to the city. Nick couldn’t get his conversation with Karen LaGarde out of his mind. She’d been luckier than most — whether by design or good fortune, she hadn’t been home when Frederick’s thug broke into her apartment, and the money she’d negotiated with Frederick Walker had helped her start over.
But what about the others?
And Nick was convinced there were others. It had been unspoken in the stories Karen told about all the times Frederick had intimidated people or paid them off to protect the reputation of his son. Nick didn’t know how far back the trail of destruction led, but in his experience, people who were bullies had always been bullies, and he had a feeling that given more time, Clay would find a long list of victims in Leland’s wake.
He was almost positive Alexa was one of them. So far Nick had been the one to inquire about her accident, requesting the file and visiting Linda Maynard. The inconsistencies in her case file had seemed like the last thing on Alexa’s mind the night she’d realized he’d known about her accident all along, which meant the odds of her doing her own digging were slim. She’d been upset by his mention of the accident, and there was no reason to believe that a woman who’d spent twelve years putting something behind her would decide she wanted to revisit it.
But Alexa wasn’t most women.
She was smart and determined, someone who sought the truth for a living. She’d been angry the night she’d discovered his betrayal, but would she really just forget about what he’d told her?
He tried to tamp down his worry as he entered the city. Alexa had made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with him, and there was no reason to think she was in danger, not unless she’d gone digging for information like he’d done. Even then, Nick had been careful in his inquiries, using back channels like Kyle and Clay to get what he needed. Alexa would probably do the same, use her contacts at BPD.
