“You already talked to the police—and Lucy. Or does Noah have evidence that you’re a lying prick?”
“You don’t know when to stop, do you?” Paxton was furious, but Sean detected his confidence was waning. He didn’t respond, just stared Paxton in the eye. Sean sat down on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table.
I’m not going anywhere, buddy.
“I’m being blackmailed,” the senator said in a low voice. “And if it gets out, not only will Lucy lose her job, the media will destroy her.”
Sean laughed, certain Paxton was bluffing, trying to scare him into leaving so he could lie to Noah and not be caught.
“You think I believe that?”
Paxton straightened and tilted his chin up defiantly. In a low, even, prideful tone, he said, “I killed Roger Morton.”
Sean kept his poker face on, and posture casual. He didn’t move from the couch. He could hardly move without wanting to hit something.
Lucy was right. Paxton had killed Morton.
Carefully, he said, “True or not, it doesn’t hurt Lucy.”
“She knew.”
Was he trying to pin it on her? Destroy her reputation? “Like hell she did. If you say a word, I’ll destroy you. You won’t know when or where or how, but if you hurt Lucy, you’re through.”
But she’d known. Maybe not with hard evidence, but her instincts had told her Paxton was a killer. She was right.
Paxton sat across from Sean.
“She didn’t know at the time,” Paxton admitted, “but she knows now. She’s an accessory after the fact. Lucy can’t lie. It’s why she’s avoided me all these months. When she figured out what I had done, she left me a note. That note is missing.”
Sean didn’t know how to respond. He couldn’t imagine that Lucy would put anything incriminating in writing, or that she would keep Paxton’s guilt a secret from not only the FBI but also from Sean. Not if she had proof.
“You’re lying,” he said. But in his gut, he knew something was wrong. He remembered how Lucy had avoided eye contact at the hospital. What had he asked her? What had made her hedge?
What had Lucy not told him?
“When Adam Scott killed my daughter, he kept her locket as a sick reminder of his perversion. The reason Roger Morton came to Washington, DC, was to bring my contact a box of jewelry that he was led to believe was worth a small fortune. But the box was recovered by the FBI.
“Lucy recognized the items for what they were—the sick souvenirs of a cowardly bastard. Monetarily, they were worth next to nothing. Emotionally, they are priceless. She gave me Monique’s locket with a note. It read, ‘I know the truth. This belongs to you.’”
“That doesn’t incriminate you or her.” Sean couldn’t help but think he was missing something, but on the surface, those two sentences meant nothing.
“In context, it means everything. I need to find out who stole my locket. I need to know what the blackmailers know. If they’re jerking me around, or if they have inside information. The FBI already knows about Ivy, and I’m going to give them another important clue.”
Sean put his hands behind his neck to give them something to do other than strangle Paxton. “You’re playing a fucking game when five people are dead?”
“That had nothing to do with me.” Paxton pounded his fist on the desk. Sean had never seen him lose his temper so abruptly. “I couldn’t have stopped those murders! As soon as I found out that Chris and Jocelyn Taylor were murdered, I called Noah Armstrong. He’ll know everything I do—”
“Except that you hired me to do the background on Ivy Harris.”
“I had to verify her story.”
Sean didn’t know what to think or believe. Paxton was a manipulative bastard whose penchant for playing God now affected the woman he loved.
“No one is going to believe Lucy knew you killed that bastard rapist. Mallory already confessed.”
“I’m trying to explain!” Paxton slowly rose from his chair and leaned over Sean.
“You think she got into the Academy because of the second interview?” Paxton grinned snidely and shook his head. “I made it happen.”
Before he could say any more, Paxton’s phone buzzed. He answered it. “Thank you, Ann. I’ll let you know when I’m ready for him.” He hung up. “Noah’s here.”
“Bring him in. See what he thinks.”
“Dammit, Rogan, you’re too stubborn for your own good.” He ran a hand through his thick gray hair. Paxton pointed to a door. “Go in there.”
“Why?”
“Can you trust me on this?”
“No.”
But now Sean was curious. He opened the door. It was a deep closet with plenty of room for someone to stand comfortably. He wondered how many people had eavesdropped from this small room.
He stared at the senator, torn.
Then he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Noah spoke to Lucy on his cell while he waited for Senator Paxton. He didn’t like waiting, especially since Paxton had called him, but was glad he had the opportunity to verify that Lucy had no serious injuries.
Lucy was emphatic that the murder of Wendy James was connected to the other crime scenes, and she made a compelling case, but what Slater said earlier was still true: They had no hard evidence.
“You’re taking the rest of the day off,” Noah told Lucy over the phone.
“Is that an order?”
“Yes. I’ll stop by later. Where will you be?”
“Home, where else?”
“I assumed Sean would take you to his place.”
“Oh. Maybe. Kate’s here now.”
Noah was surprised Sean wasn’t glued to her side. He hoped the hotheaded Rogan didn’t do something unwise, like try and find the driver of the van. Noah wouldn’t put it past him.
“Don’t work too hard,” he told Lucy.
“You just ordered me to take the day off.”
“Were you going to obey me?”
She laughed. “No. But I will stay at home. I don’t think Kate is going to take me anywhere else.”
“Good. If you’re compelled to do anything, write up a report on the accident. I need to debrief you anyway, and putting it on paper will help you remember the details. And I’ll have a courier bring over a copy of the James file for you to review. I have two analysts going over everything we’ve uncovered, but you have a different perspective.”
“I can’t wait.”
She sounded excited about paperwork. She’d be the first, Noah thought. “I also want to get your assessment on the suspect.”
“I already told you I didn’t get a good look at him, but his van will be damaged.”
“I meant Hannah Edmonds, aka Ivy Harris.”
“Ivy isn’t her name?”
“No. She’s the daughter of televangelist Kirk Edmonds.”
“I’ve never heard of him. Why did you call her a suspect?”
“She is a person of interest in the kidnapping of Sara Edmonds.”
“Sara? Mrs. Neel said her sister was named Mina.”
“I’m going to talk to Mrs. Neel shortly, but I think Mina and Sara are two different girls. One a prostitute, the other the missing daughter of Reverend Edmonds. I’ll send everything I know so you can get up to speed.”
“You don’t know that she kidnapped her sister. Sara could have run away.”
“But we won’t know until we talk to her. She’s a fourteen-year-old girl who was living for the last ten days in a house with known prostitutes, two of whom are dead.”
“Ivy was extremely protective of her sister. If you find her, she’s going to be difficult to talk to. Get someone like Hans to work with her.”