Ian tried to hide his displeasure. He knew I was right.
"Imagine the fallout if that letter should get leaked to the press," I said. "Your career is over. So is Holden’s. He can kiss that TV deal goodbye.”
"Is that a threat, Deputy?"
I ignored him. "You know what I think? I think one of you found out Wesley was going to come clean. You knew he was going to pull the rest of you down. He had to be eliminated. Easy enough. A simple overdose would solve the problem. Nobody would look into it. Nobody would think twice about a junkie dying after coming out of rehab."
Recognition flashed in Ian's eyes.
"But then there were unintended repercussions." I had put all the pieces together. "Wesley had confessed to his therapist. She was the only other person on Earth who knew. She had to be dealt with. What if she violated her oath? A long shot, but a risk. Now you, as a lawyer, know that she can’t violate her professional ethics. Just like you have an attorney-client privilege. Someone like Holden, on the other hand, might let paranoia get the best of him.”
Ian knew where I was going with this. It was obvious by the look on his face.
"I think Holden killed Cameron and Landon,” I said. “I think you're next on the list. If you disagree, you're just lying to yourself. Right now, you're the only other person who can testify against him. You're the only person who was on that boat and knows exactly what happened to Sarah Sweet.” I let it hang there for a moment. "If you're smart, and I think that you are, you'll realize this is an opportunity to make a deal. Come clean, testify against Holden, and let the truth come out. The family deserves that. Sarah deserves that."
Ian stared at me with those sharp eyes for a moment, contemplating his next move. "That is quite the imaginative story, Deputy. I think that would make a fascinating episode on a crime scene drama, but it's just not reality. If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I’ve got work to do.” He pushed the letter back across the table.
"You can keep that," I said. “There's more where that came from. By the way, I will be back with a court order to compel your DNA. Right now, you should be asking yourself, what are the odds your DNA shows up in Sarah Sweet’s panties? I think the odds are pretty high.” I shrugged. "Something to think about."
We pushed the chairs away from his desk and stood up. Ian looked unsettled as we turned and walked for the door.
I shared a grin with JD as we walked down the hall toward the reception area. We both enjoyed turning up the heat on these scumbags. With any luck, they'd be cooked pretty soon.
We left the building and walked across the parking lot to the Porsche. My phone buzzed with a call from the sheriff. I swipedthe screen and held the device to my ear. The sheriff barked, “How the hell did she get that letter!”
He was not a happy camper.
“Who?”
“You know damn good and well who.”
“Paris? I didn’t give it to her.”
“Well, it’s all over the damn news now. You think that’s going to taint a potential jury pool!”
“I had nothing to do with it.”
Then we both said in unison, “Darrell.”
I sighed. “Well, can you blame him? He wants everyone to know he’s innocent.”
That leak to the press set quite a few things in motion.
46
Teagan greeted us with that delightful smile when we hit the barstools at Diver Down. It had been a crazy day, and it wasn’t over yet.
We scanned menus as we watched the flatscreen behind the bar. Paris did what she does best—stir things up. She and her crew had camped out at Ian's house and accosted him as he pulled into the driveway.
Lightning flashed, and cold rain poured down. Thunder boomed.
The camera closed in. Ian tried to shield his face as he marched toward the front door, carrying a briefcase.
Paris shouted questions. "What's your involvement in the death of Sarah Sweet?"
Ian didn't answer.
"Is there any truth to Wesley's confession?”
