“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Schaffer said to Carson, “but this entire investigation has been about bringing down Fleming.” She rested her gaze on Annette once more. “We were, still are for that matter, perfectly happy to offer you a deal including immunity. All you have to do is provide the evidence we need. I might even be able to make the murders go away. We might not work as hard as we need to in order to prove the gun was yours.”
Before Carson could respond, Annette countered, “That may be the way it started for you, but that was never the goal for Wainwright and Drake. They wantme,not Otis Fleming. And the gun isn’t mine.”
“I don’t have any doubts,” Carson said to Schaffer, “that they want to nail Annette, but”—he turned to Annette then—“I’m certain at least the secondary goal is to bring down Fleming.”
“There are things you don’t know,” Annette explained. It wasn’t until then that he noticed how tired she looked. Even her voice lacked the usual commanding air. “I went to see Otis just before we started our search for Dane. He told me he had negotiated a deal for himself.”
When had she gone to see Fleming? The only time Carson couldn’t account for Annette’s activities was while he had been with Elizabeth. No matter what Fleming said, Carson knew just how badly Wainwright wanted to bring him down. “What could Fleming have possibly offered in exchange for himself?”
Annette moistened her lips. “Me.”
Carson choked out a laugh. Unbelievable. “And Fleming told you this?”
“Yes.”
“How can you be sure,” Schaffer interjected, “that he was telling the truth?”
Annette looked straight at Schaffer then. “Because Wainwright was there.”
The disbelief drained out of Carson, only to be replaced by an equally startling emotion he couldn’t quite label. “In Fleming’s house?”
“Having tea,” Annette confirmed.
A prolonged moment of stunned silence followed.
“The bottom line,” Schaffer announced, shattering the tension-filled quiet, “is you don’t have any evidence to back up your accusations. As much as I like you, Tanner”—her gaze connected with his—“I can’t go on hearsay or conjecture. I need something tangible to make this leap.”
“We have a witness.” Carson’s gut knotted. He hoped like hell the agent wouldn’t see the lie in his eyes.
“Who?” Schaffer didn’t bother keeping the doubt out of her tone.
“Dane Drake,” Annette answered for Carson. “He was there when Carson’s family was murdered. He knows what happened as well as the steps that were taken to cover up the truth.”
Again Carson was blown away by the woman’s ability to lie without the slightest flinch. How could he trust anything she told him? Panic trickled in his chest. He was basing his entire theory, risking everything, on what she had told him ... onher.
“I need to question this witness,” Schaffer said without preamble. “Where is he?”
“He’s in hiding.” Carson wondered how many laws he would have to break before this was over. “As you can well imagine, considering that his father has been murdered, if Dane shows his face he’s a dead man.” The image of Dane sprawled on that bed flashed in Carson’s head. He clenched his teeth to hold back the grimace.
“So what exactly is it that you’re proposing?” Schaffer wanted to know. “What’s your strategy? And what do you expect to gain?”
Carson felt some amount of relief at the idea that the agent was even willing to hear him out. Now if she would just suspend logic and go with his plan.
At this point, Carson had nothing to lose.
“I put in a call to Aidan Moore, the attorney who represented Stokes,” he explained. “I tell Moore that I have new evidence indicating that Stokes and Wainwright made a deal that included this massive cover-up. That’s just the trigger. Wainwright’s reaction will provide the rest of what we need.” Slim, very slim. Who the hell was Carson kidding? The whole plan was damned anorexic.
Schaffer’s eyebrows shot upward. “Do you possess actual evidence?”
Carson opened his mouth to say not exactly but Annette beat him to the punch.
“Yes, we have the wedding bands taken from the victims.”
He nodded. “That’s right.” The wedding bands most likely couldn’t be linked to a perpetrator, but they did have them.
“You call Moore,” Schaffer said, drawing Carson’s attention back to her, “and he calls Wainwright. Then what?”
“Wainwright calls me. I agree to meet him with the rings,” Carson glanced at Annette wondering just how she would take this next part. “Your people monitor the meeting, during which I’ll manipulate the confession.”
