Carson pulled out of the parking slot and headed for the street. “Buttheydon’t know that.”
As he yielded for traffic, he watched that realization strike the worry from her face.
She smiled. “This is true.”
He eased into the street and considered the plan already formulating in his head. “We have to implement this strategy very carefully.” He glanced at her. “We only have one shot.”
“And only a few hours before the maid service at the hotel discovers Dane’s body.”
“You’re right.” Carson rolled into the left lane and made a U-turn.
“Where’re you going?”
“To buy us some more time.”
3:50 a.m.
2201 Lime Rock Road, Vestavia
Schaffer Residence
Carson had hung the Do Not Disturb sign on the door to Dane’s room. If they were lucky, that would give them the rest of the day to get this done.
IfSpecial Agent Schaffer would cooperate.
Clad in sweatpants and a T-shirt, she had allowed them into her home at this ungodly hour. That hadn’t actually been surprising considering her surveillance team had been attempting to locate Annette for the better part of the night. Persuading her to listen to their story without calling in to report their arrival had been slightly more difficult.
Schaffer propped her feet on the coffee table of her family room, then took her time assessing first Annette and then Carson. “You want me to believe,” she said to Carson, “that Wainwright, along with his deceased friend Senator Drake, is manipulating all that’s happened in order to facilitate some massive cover-up?”
Carson didn’t blame her for being skeptical. Their story sounded crazy at best. But he was sticking to it. Hell, it was the only one they had. “Yes.”
“Then why would Wainwright have come to me,” Schaffer insisted, “with that video?”
The video? That was the tip Wainwright had given her. “There wasn’t anything particularly earth shattering on that video,” he reminded her.
Schaffer snorted. “That’s because you got the edited version. I wasn’t about to trust you with the real thing. When you didn’t appear to know about it, I wasn’t sure what was going on in the DA’s Office.”
Carson looked from Annette who shrugged back to Schaffer. “What was on the tape?”
“Your friend here was assuring Fleming that she could take care of the senator. Two weeks later he’s murdered.”
Carson and Annette stared at each other. She shook her head. “It wasn’t like that.” She turned to Schaffer. “His son was in trouble again. Senator Drake wasn’t sure I could make it go away to his satisfaction. He played that card every time. He refused to come to me. He always went to Otis. Or had Wainwright take care of it.”
“There you go,” Carson urged. “Wainwright used that conversation out of context.”
Schaffer turned to Annette then. “Him”—she hitched her thumb in Carson’s direction—“I can halfway believe. Though I’m not saying I do. But you.” Schaffer folded her arms over her chest. “Why would I put any faith in a single word you say?”
Carson felt a twinge of sympathy for Annette. Even as a child, no one had believed her when she’d told the truth. No wonder she’d stopped trying and had chosen another path to survive. He studied her profile, noting again the delicate features that so belied the tough-as-nails woman beneath.
“I have no reason to lie.”
Judging by Schaffer’s expression, that wasn’t the answer she was looking for. “I can think of one or two.” She relaxed into the thick sofa cushions. “Holderfield. Drake. Ring any bells?”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” Annette fired back. “Those murders—”
“The murder weapon used on Zac Holderfield,” Schaffer interrupted, “has been linked to an alias of yours. My people, as well as the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Department, are working overtime to confirm that link. That same weapon we now know was used to murder Drake.” She lifted an eyebrow at Annette. “How do you explain that?”
“Those murders,” Annette began again, seemingly unfazed, “are part of the setup. I know too much. They want to discredit me so that nothing I claim against them is reliable, and then they want me on death row. Or dead.”
