Chapter 21

Detective Casey calledon our drive to NOLA. Not only had her daughter already come up with a former Spalding employee to question about Brett’s alleged hitting on Lindsay, she’d gotten her phone number and the woman still lived in New Orleans. I called and left a message, stating that I needed information about her former employment at Spalding Financial and asked her to call me back. I wasn’t sure what the information would mean at that point, but it was something I’d prefer to nail down. I hated loose ends.

By noon, I’d purchased a thick, fluffy navy rug and had set up delivery for the next week. I’d splurged and bought some matching pillows and lamps as well, and Gertie had declared me ‘so domestic she might faint from the shock of it all.’ Ida Belle had pointed out that my choice of darker colors was just plain smart, that the pillows had zipper covers, which were handy to stash weapons in, and the lamps had solid iron bases and could kill three people with one good swing.

It was nice when someone really understood you.

A fake call to Spalding about a delivery that needed his personal signature had netted me the lunch hour that he’d be out of the office, so all that was left was to head over to the park, find Brett, and get up in his butt with both feet. The sun was shining bright, and it was a pleasant seventy degrees out. The park was tiny but pretty, with blooming bushes and flowers placed along a brick walkway that traveled around the entire area, giving people a small walking path. Park benches dotted the path under shade trees, and I could see why Brett chose to leave the office in favor of eating here.

I spotted him at a bench in the back of the park but unfortunately, he wasn’t alone. Devin Roberts sat next to him, and I could tell the two of them were in a heated conversation.

“Looks like the two best friends aren’t feeling very friendly,” Ida Belle said. “I wonder what that’s about?”

“Could be work,” I said.

“Could be personal, too,” Ida Belle said. “As long as they’ve been friends, Devin probably knows more about his life than anyone else, even Kelsey.”

“That’s true,” I agreed. “Still, I was hoping to get Brett alone.”

“So ask Devin to leave,” Gertie said. “He’s not a puppet master.”

I nodded. “Do me a favor and hang back. Feels fair to be one on one. And just out of curiosity, see if Devin goes back to the office.”

They gave me a nod and crossed the street to find a stakeout spot. I headed into the park. Brett was staring ahead, probably trying to ignore Devin, so he caught sight of me first. His eyes widened and he glanced at Devin and said something that had the other man ceasing all conversation and whipping his head in my direction.

“Brett,” I said as I approached. “I’d like a few minutes. Alone.”

I gave Devin a pointed look and he bristled at the dismissal, but Brett gave him a nod and he left, cutting his eyes at me as he walked by.

“I couldn’t help but notice you two were arguing,” I said as I sat.

Brett shrugged. “It takes two to argue.”

“True enough. But it only takes one to listen, so here goes—Kelsey is worried you’re going to ruin Ben’s chance at the transplant. And I have to say, I agree with her. The warden has a reputation for being difficult at best, sadistic at worst. Whatever pressure he’s under to give approval might be short-lived, so you have to strike while the opportunity is available. And you have to do it with no hesitation. Otherwise, he might use it against you.”

He sighed. “I have no intention of harming Ben’s chances. But asking me to be happy with the option is too much.”

“No one’s asking you to be happy about anything. But all that anger you’re lugging around is only going to weigh you down, which is going to hinder your ability to be the father Ben needs if he’s going to get through this.”

He turned to face me, his eyes flashing with anger. “What the hell do you know about being a parent to a dying child? About finding out that the only good thing in your life isn’t even really yours? That your spouse has been lying by omission your entire marriage?”

Something flickered in his expression as he delivered that last sentence. He contained it quickly, but that split second was all it took for me to know the truth.

“You knew about that night Kelsey spent with Ryan, didn’t you?” I asked. “You knew and never told her. Were you following her?”

“No! What would have been the point?”

“To get information you could use to manipulate her back into a relationship.”

“Why would I want to be with her if she didn’t want to be with me?” he asked.

“Because Kelsey is probably the only person who ever told you no. The challenge can be very appealing to a certain type of person.”

He shook his head. “I had plenty of other options, and my job is all the challenge I need. I loved Kelsey and she chose to return to our relationship—before she knew she was pregnant, not because of it.”

“And maybe all of that is true, but you never answered my original question—did you know about her night with Ryan?”

He stared at me, a range of emotions flashing through his eyes, and I knew he was trying to decide how to respond even though his hesitation had already provided me with the answer.

“I didn’t know the extent of it,” he said finally. “I didn’t know that she’d slept with him and never asked. When he was arrested for killing Lindsay, I assumed they’d parted ways at the bar and both gone home.”

“How did you know they were together at all?”

“A picture. Someone sent me a picture of the two of them kissing.”

“Who sent it?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. The number was blocked, and trust me when I say that I used every available option I had to try to track that person down.”

“It had to have been someone you knew if they had your number.”

“It was my work cell. It’s listed on the company website. And even if it wasn’t, there are plenty of people in my social circle who not only had that number but would have been happy to see Kelsey and me part ways.”

“Other options who were trying to get rid of the competition?”

“Something like that.”

“And you never once questioned Kelsey about that night?”

“No. Not until…”

“Until you knew for certain that Ben wasn’t your biological son. You realize the man who fathered him is going to sit in prison the rest of his life if I can’t find suitable evidence to prove otherwise. And the best evidence I have right now is Kelsey’s statement. Do you think she’s lying about spending the entire night with him?”

“No. The photo was date-stamped, and I received it that night. And since the DNA test was positive, there’s no denying the extent of their involvement. I have no reason to believe she’s lying about anything that happened that night.”

“Even if it meant getting Ryan out of prison to save Ben?”

“Even if she lied to get access, there’s no reason to continue to lie. At least not to me. Ryan’s agreed to the transplant if he’s a match.”

I nodded, then played devil’s advocate. “Maybe he agreed because he thought Kelsey would help get him exonerated if he saved Ben.”

“If Kelsey said she was with Ryan that night, then I believe her. I know it probably seems foolish from where you’re sitting since you could make the argument she’s been lying by omission this entire time, but you don’t know Kelsey like I do.”

“Then why didn’t you tell her about Ryan being arrested for killing Lindsay? You’d received the photo and knew she was with him that night. Why didn’t you tell her when he was arrested?”

“Because the police had an open-and-shut case and said so from the beginning. As her employer, they questioned me right after it happened, but it was cursory, at best. They made it clear they already had their guy and the evidence to convict. I figured it was just a kiss at a bar and there was no point in throwing who he actually was and what he did in Kelsey’s face.”

Brett was trying to come across as magnanimous, but he didn’t fool me for a minute. He hadn’t wanted to know if Kelsey’s relationship with Ryan had gone any further than that kiss and was probably happy to believe the man had committed murder because it meant he’d be permanently out of the picture.

“But since you believe Kelsey, then you know Ryan didn’t kill Lindsay.”

He blew out a breath. “I do now.”

“Do you still have that photo?”

He gave me a single nod.

“Good. I’m going to need it. It corroborates Kelsey’s statement that she was with Ryan that night. Even though it doesn’t account for the range of time when Lindsay was killed, it lends credibility to Kelsey’s entire claim.”

He nodded but remained silent, and I could practically feel the emotional turmoil rolling off him in giant waves.

“Look,” I said, “I know none of this is what you wanted. But what has happened isn’t justice. Not for you, Kelsey, Ben, or Ryan. And most of all, not for Lindsay.”

“I’ll send you the picture. I’ve kept it all this time… I don’t even know why.”

“Maybe it was the universe protecting Ben. He’s really the only person you need to consider right now—what’s best for him? If the surgery is a go and it gives him a chance at a full life, will it be good for him to find out his biological father is in prison for murder?”

“Of course not.”

I raised one eyebrow at him.

He blew out a breath. “You’re right. I need to push my personal feelings aside. Devin was saying the same thing—just sign whatever is necessary, write checks, and save Ben. Everything else can be addressed once we’re sure he’s okay.”

“Sounds right.”

He pinned his gaze on me. “I know you probably won’t believe me, but Ben means everything to me. Being his father is the best and most important thing I’ve ever done. And I don’t want him in pain—physically or emotionally—for one second longer than he has to be. I’ll do anything to lessen his burden. Kelsey has nothing to worry about where I’m concerned.”

“You’re a great father, Brett. It might not mean much to you right now, but Kelsey said the same thing to me the first time we met. She wasn’t wrong.”

He drew in a breath, and I saw tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. Finally, he rose and walked away.

* * *

Ida Belleand Gertie were already in the SUV when I got back, and I filled them in on my conversation with Brett on our way to Alexander’s office. Like me, they were initially surprised about the photo someone had sent Brett and were anxious to see it. I wished ten years hadn’t lapsed because technology was always improving, and I might have been able to track the sender. Although Brett’s assumption that it was one of his social circle was probably accurate.

I sent Kelsey a text letting her know that Brett wouldn’t be a problem and that I’d call her later to fill her in. Then Ida Belle and Gertie gave me a rundown on Devin’s movements after he left the park.

“We thought he was going back to the office,” Gertie said, “but then he turned the opposite direction at the end of the block. We followed him about halfway down, where he went into a building.”

“We couldn’t tell what it was at first,” Ida Belle continued. “And we didn’t want to walk right by it in case he had a view out the window, so we crossed the street.”

“I wanted to buy Mardi Gras masks, but someone wouldn’t go for it,” Gertie said.

“Because it’s not even noon, we’re not on Bourbon Street, and Mardi Gras was weeks ago,” Ida Belle said. “We needed to blend, not draw attention.”

“So anyway?” I interrupted. “Did you figure out what the building was?”

“A boutique hotel,” Gertie said. “Looked ritzy. And no restaurant. You know what that means—someone is getting before noon delight.”

Ida Belle shrugged. “No restaurant but they might have a meeting room. Or maybe a client is staying there.”

Gertie rolled her eyes, and I laughed.

“The way he kept looking around while he was walking,” Gertie said, “he was definitely having a nooner and was making sure no one saw him going in.”

“Did you see anyone else enter the hotel?”

“No,” Ida Belle said. “We hung around until you texted us that you were headed back to the car, but no one entered or exited in that time. Do you want to go back and stake it out?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know how it would be useful, and I want to see if Alexander found out anything on the mercenaries.”

Alexander was practically bouncing when we arrived, and I couldn’t wait to hear what had him so excited. He waved us into his office and we all took seats. He perched on the edge of his desk, his legs swinging slightly like a schoolboy, and he grinned at us as though he knew something awesome and was savoring the moment before telling us.

“Did you find out who the mercenaries were?” I asked, unable to wait a second longer.

“Ex-Marines,” he said. “And I use ‘ex’ rather than ‘former’ because they were both dishonorably discharged for war crimes two years ago.”

I nodded, not a bit surprised. “And let me guess, they served under Kitts.”

“Not directly, of course, as those two failures would have never achieved enough rank to be a direct report, but yes. Even more interesting, they were under investigation for other crimes by the DOD but mysteriously disappeared just when they were going to be arrested.”

“Someone tipped them off,” Ida Belle said.

I nodded. “I’ll bet any amount of money it was Kitts. Preparing his own private group of soldiers to handle his dirty work.

“Probably,” Alexander agreed. “The DOD was never able to locate them, and finally someone suggested they’d been eliminated to keep them from talking.”

“So the DOD assumed they were dead until they turned up in my living room.”

He nodded. “They were very happy to hear you’d left one alive. I don’t have to tell you how much of a boost that was in your favor.”

“I’m sure the DOD knows I did it for my own reasons and not to help them out.”

“Absolutely, but this is one of those times when one action serves two purposes.”

“And the video where he named Kitts?”

“Enraged the Marine Corps and delighted the DOD.” Alexander beamed. “The Marines have completely withdrawn their support. They won’t even allow him military counsel, claiming that the attack on you, on American soil, is a civilian issue rather than military.”

Gertie gave a loud hoot, and Alexander laughed.

“They hung him out to dry,” Ida Belle said, looking equally happy.

“Oh, it gets even better.” He leaned forward and grinned. “I heard through my contacts that Kitts is going to be arrested for crimes against the United States. It’s supposed to happen sometime today. And with all the knowledge and connections he has to make fleeing and hiding a stroll in the park, there’s no way he’s getting bail.”

I sat back in my chair, completely stunned. I knew the video and the attempt on my life had been a fatal decision in Kitts’s plans, but I had no idea it was going to be the wind running with the loose thread.

Kitts’s entire sordid life was about to unravel.