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“What about this one?” she asked, placing one more photograph on the bench.
He felt the air leave his lungs. “That’s my sister-in-law,” he all but blurted out. “That’s Eden’s sister.”
Bethenny nodded. “And this one?”
He gripped the bench for support as he looked into the pair of familiar eyes.
“My brother-in-law.. .” he said, barely able to speak. He didn’t know why Bethenny was showing him these pictures, but he knew that whatever she said next would almost kill him.
Bethenny nodded slowly, and he realized the envelope wasn’t empty. She pulled out one more photograph, turning it over and placing it on the bench like a dealer at a card table.
He sucked in a breath and felt the walls shift.
“What are you saying?” he asked with a raspy voice. It was a surveillance shot, and even though it was somewhat grainy, he knew without a doubt what he was seeing: his brother-in-law in a boxing ring, and on his right shoulder was the same symbol.
His brother-in-law, Jim, had been like a brother to him. In fact, he’d talked to him only a few weeks ago.
“I don’t know how this is connected, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence. I need you to tell me everything you know about him,” she said, tapping on the surveillance photograph.
“Where did you get these?” he asked without thinking. It wasn’t an accusation; he was simply curious.
“I pulled in a favor from someone I know at the FBI. I asked for all known associates of the Valley Kings. This photo was matched to Jim O’Connor. I recognized the name from Eden’s file. Given that you told me you thought Eden’s death was a revenge killing and one of your last cases was the Valley Kings, I thought we needed to investigate this.”
Lachlan shook his head, not that he refused to believe it, but he was struggling to comprehend what she was saying.
“Do you know what your brother-in-law does for a living?” Bethenny asked.
“Of course, he’s an accountant,” Lachlan said—and as soon as he uttered the words, he knew that had been a lie.
Bethenny pulled her lips to one side. “In a matter of speaking,” she said. “The FBI file on him suggests he’s not an accountant in the traditional sense—in the legal sense. They don’t have proof, but it’s noted that he’s suspected of doing the books for Albert Bonnano—Head of the Valley Kings.”
If Lachlan had thought the room was spinning before, now it was somersaulting.
LACHLAN
He inhaled deeply, trying to pull some air back into his lungs. He felt like everything was unraveling in front of him and he was desperately trying to gather every loose thread before he missed one. He knew every piece of information was important right now.
He lowered his voice, suddenly aware that bugs might have been installed in his house. If someone had broken in to frame him, it was likely they’d have planted a few bugs too. He wondered if Mitch had done a sweep of the house after they’d searched it.
“I told you I worked a case that involved the Valley Kings. They were planning a mass killing—a revenge—against the former prosecutor, the detectives who worked the case, and their families. We’re talking close to one hundred people. Normally the FBI would handle it, but the local Valley Kings group was consulting with their international cohorts to plan an attack on foreign land, executed by foreign assets. They were going to make it look like a terrorist attack—they planned to hit innocent people in the wrong place at the wrong time—so it wouldn’t look like a revenge kill. I was working on the foreign intelligence and feeding it back to the FBI.”
“So his name didn’t come up at all during your surveillance?” Bethenny asked and Lachlan could see she, too, was scrambling to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
“No—but they likely used code names. That symbol didn’t come up either,” he said, frowning. “Are you sure it’s theirs?”
She nodded without hesitation. “It’s new, apparently. It’s been turning up on members for the past twelve months. You wouldn’t have seen it when you were working the case a few years ago.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. A crawling sensation ran up his spine, all the way to the base of his skull. “Where is he now? Do you know?”
“No,” she said, pressing her lips together. “The local police went to pay him a visit this morning but his wife said he left for New York a few days ago. She couldn’t provide any details and the phone number she gave us matches a phone still at his house. So, he’s likely carrying a burner phone. There’s a trace out for his car, and we’re monitoring his phone calls and credit card information.”
Lachlan sighed. “He won’t use his credit cards—he’ll have cash, and he’ll change cars.” He wouldn’t make a silly mistake like that, Lachlan knew, because he’d been under Lachlan’s nose the entire time and hadn’t made a mistake. Lachlan had been one of the best surveillance agents the CIA had, and he’d never seen the truth about Jim. But that was the thing about people you were close to—it was hard to see them for what they really were. That was why the best agents had few friends, no family, no spouse. It was easier when there were fewer emotions involved.
Jim wouldn’t make a mistake—but maybe Lachlan could force him to.
“Regardless, let’s say he is involved in this. What is his motive?” Lachlan asked.
Bethenny turned over her empty hands. “That’s what I was hoping you could tell me.”
