Chapter Forty-Eight

Tess Angelhart

Tess brought pastries over to her mom's house early Thursday morning. "Is she awake?"

Her mom nodded, sipped her coffee. "I heard her, but she hasn't come out yet."

"Jack and Margo are on their way." Tess poured her own mug of coffee, then sorted the sweets onto a plate she'd grabbed from the top shelf. When she was a teenager, she hated being the tallest girl in the family by far—sisters and cousins. Even her brother Nico was an inch shorter than her. Now? She'd grown into her gangly limbs and liked being able to use all the shelves in the kitchen.

She sat at the kitchen table with an apple fritter. "Did you talk to her?" She took a bite and savored the sugar.

"Yes. I'll represent her during her interview with the police about the fire, but I don't expect anything to come from it." Ava sat down, selected a plain croissant with her manicured fingers. "She has a solid, verifiable alibi and I'll shut down questioning if it veers too far off that path."

Tess wouldn't want to be a cop on the other side of the table from her mother. Ava Angelhart was a rare attorney who performed exceptionally well whether for the prosecution or the defense. If she believed in you, she was your greatest advocate.

"What do you think?" Tess asked.

"About the fire?"

"About her family. Faking her death."

"If she was honest with Margo," Ava said, "then she must have been both grieving and conniving to pull it off. Death—especially violent death—changes you."

Tess glanced up as Jennifer walked into the kitchen. She wasn't certain if Jennifer heard her mother's entire comment until Jennifer said, "I told Margo the truth. Not the entire truth, there's much more, but I didn't lie." She gestured toward the coffeepot. "May I?"

Ava nodded, and Jennifer poured herself a cup. She sat at the far end of the farm-style kitchen table in a bright nook that looked out to the pristine backyard. The Angelhart family had spent hundreds—thousands—of hours around this table. Their formal dining room had long ago been converted into the home office that Ava used—and once shared with her husband.

Her mom had more patience than Tess, so Tess asked Jennifer, "What did you leave out yesterday?"

It took Jennifer a minute, then she spoke. "I told Margo the big things. The retaliation. The murders." She stared at her coffee. "What I didn't say was all the little things, the security around the house, the men that came and went, some I never saw again and didn't know why. The lies my dad told me, and how I miss my brother. The guilt I feel because I never followed through on my threat to tell the FBI after the nightclub bombing. Because I didn't know if my dad lied to me about a bad agent who would have us killed. My little brother—I couldn't live with myself if something happened to him."

"You were fourteen," Ava said. "Traumatized, angry—your decisions then were clouded by youth and grief. Your decisions today are what matters."

"I can't prove anything."

"You may know things you don't realize you know. That bombing was twelve years ago. There is no statute of limitations on murder."

"But my family has people in law enforcement, people in government who help them."

"You're in Arizona," Ava said. "I know people here, and I know who I trust. The question is, do you trust me to keep you safe?"

Jennifer didn't say anything.

Ava laughed lightly. "Not me, personally, I promise you. But I can get you real protection. If you decide to go down this path, I'd contact an assistant US attorney I know—we went to law school together and have worked well over the years when our cases crossed. He is ethical and honest. He'd assess whether he can open an investigation into your allegations, and call in the US Marshals to provide protection if warranted. That would mean putting everything you know on the record, under penalty of perjury. I need to do a little research, but I'm almost positive any crimes you have committed—the identity theft, the hacking—have passed the statute of limitations. But going this route won't be easy. You may have to leave Arizona, take another name, build a new life."

"I'd have to do that anyway," Jennifer said quietly, staring into her mug. "My dad knows that I'm here, that I'm using Jennifer's name, so he can find me anywhere."

"I suspect," Ava said, "that Margo is correct in her assessment that when we started investigating the employees at Desert West, that triggered something that alerted your father or made him suspicious, and he then hired Miriam to find you, confirm your identity."

Jennifer nodded. "He'd want confirmation. He could send someone. Or maybe come himself." She visibly shivered and held her mug as if it were grounding her.

"You told Margo he wouldn't hurt you," Ava said. "How certain are you?"

She hesitated. "I don't think he would. I'm his daughter. But I really don't know. He's believed I was dead for eight years. How does that change a person?"

"What about your other family? Your brother, aunts, uncles?"

"My mother was an only child, and we never really socialized with my dad's family. My grandfather—my mom's dad—died four years ago."

"How'd you find out?" Tess asked.

"I set up Google alerts about the family. I expected over the years that my dad would go to prison eventually, or be killed. If—if he had died, I planned to reach out to my brother. Anyway, I saw the obituary. Heart attack. He was eighty-two."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Ava said.

"I hate what my dad did—the crime, the violence, the arrogance of it all. But...he wasn't always that way. He treated me and my brother well, loved us. We played games—my dad and I loved cards, and my grandfather would play chess with my brother. They'd both come to my soccer games and cheer me on, and to my brother's baseball games. I remember how proud they were when my brother made a game-saving dive to catch a ball in center. Right before Jenny and her family were killed." Her voice cracked and Ava put her hand on Jennifer's arm.

"No one is all good or all bad," Ava said. "It's sometimes difficult to reconcile people we know with things they do. It doesn't make you a bad person to fondly remember the good times with people who loved you."

"I just don't see how they could love me and put our family in danger like they did. I can't forgive that."

"That's okay. Maybe now that you can talk about it with someone, it'll help you come to terms with your past and navigate your future."

Tess admired the way her mother always had the right words, the right tone for difficult situations.

"So, what now?" Jennifer asked.

"Jack is contacting the detectives and letting them know that they can interview you here, in my home. We won't be telling them anything about your family situation. Margo said you already called your employer about what you had been doing with the files, but you'll need to talk to them again, answer all questions."

"Logan was on the call with me. If he didn't back me, I don't know what they would have thought."

"They would have eventually discovered the truth, but having someone in your corner helps. We're all going to help you get through this."

"Thank you." Jennifer's voice cracked.

Ava patted her arm, then rose. "With your permission, I'll contact the federal lawyer I mentioned and start the ball rolling."

"Okay," Jennifer said with a nod. "Okay."