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“You’re forgetting I’m an FBI agent,” she said. “I don’t have idiot voters with short attention spans to manipulate. I will be held accountable by my office.”
She had three years until retirement. Three years, and then she would begin to collect the profits she had to defer for the last decade because she didn’t want to report them. The money was just sitting there, waiting for her—she and Paul could finally enjoy their lives rather than working so hard for everything they had. She had done everything in her power to set up her children to have comfortable lives. It wasn’t Jonathan’s fault that this got screwed up. He shouldn’t have to pay for it.
“You’ve done nothing,” Lydia said, sounding exasperated. “You have plausible deniability. Jonathan has done nothing wrong, and even if some intrepid reporter exposes him, his pedigree and good works will save him. In fact, I’m working on a statement he can give. It will start with his call for a full investigation and audit of the grant program. That he is shocked that anyone would cheat the system that is set up to help so many of the unfortunate. My office will coordinate it. We’ll find pockets of waste and clean it up. Anything that our detractors find later will appear like nit-picking and sour grapes. It’s a win-win.”
“You’re forgetting one important fact. Murder does not get brushed under the rug so easy.”
“We have no connection to anything so unsavory.”
Did she really believe that?
“Theodore has made several very bad decisions,” Rebecca said. “And your daughter is in the middle of it.”
Now, Lydia bristled. Of course she did; no one could say a negative word about her perfect, beautiful daughter.
“Nothing can be traced to him,” Lydia said haughtily. “He’s too smart.”
Rebecca was done. Sometimes, talking to Lydia was impossible. “Someone needs to find and deal with Ms. Halliday, and that means dealing with Detective Quinn, who apparently has her under wraps. I’m working on discrediting Quinn, but if Halliday told her anything, the detective will be a pit bull in ferreting out and exposing our business. She doesn’t let go.” Rebecca stood.
Lydia walked her to the door. “I’ll remind you, Becca, that I did put out a hit on Detective Quinn after the media exposure didn’t take care of her in March, and the person you recommended failed. So I will do this my way.”
Rebecca didn’t have a response. She walked away and wished she had never met Lydia Zarian.
In the car she made a call she was dreading. It was a bell that couldn’t be unrung.
“Dorothy,” she said firmly, “your son has made a huge miscalculation, and I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. The repercussions are starting to steamroll, and Lydia is in complete denial. She has a plan and she hasn’t shared it with me—when Lydia starts thinking, that’s when we always get trouble.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Dorothy said and ended the call.
33
It was eight fifteen by the time Matt walked into the First Contact office. He’d sent Michael to Kara’s condo to check on the status of her firearms and any sign of break-in, then talk to the neighbor who had the key. They needed to get in front of this.
Lex, Elena, Peter and Will were there. Colton was not.
“I told you to have him here,” Matt said.
Elena stared him down. “I don’t answer to you, Agent Costa.”
“He’ll be here,” Will said. “Please, sit.”
Matt glanced at Peter. “You were in on this, too? You told Detective McPherson that you had no idea why Craig was killed.”
“I’m his investigator for the DA’s office. I do background checks and interviews. It wasn’t until I met with Elena and Lex on Monday night that we started thinking the grand jury investigation might have been the trigger. He hadn’t even planned to impanel them until late last week.”
“It’s water under the bridge,” Lex said. “Let’s focus on the now. I hope you told Kara to stay away.”
“Kara is on her way here,” Matt said. “I have proof she was nowhere near the dog park where Thornton was killed. I will submit it to Granderson once Violet is safe.” He and Kara realized that if there was a mole in the FBI—or more than one—and they shared the receipt, Violet could be tracked to Big Bear.
“How solid?” Peter asked.
“Receipts and witnesses.”
“Why was her phone at the park?” Peter asked, curious. “It seems odd that her phone would end up at the same place where Thornton was killed.”
“Violet believes that someone tracked her through her phone, and since Kara had an FBI-issued phone, GPS is always on.” Matt remembered how hard it had been to get Kara to switch over to the FBI phone, but she’d finally agreed.
But someone would have to have her FBI phone number to track it, and they would have to either be a really good hacker, or in law enforcement.
