Annette went cold as memories from last night’s close encounter on the road in the Mountain Brook area swarmed her head. Black sedan. She’d seen it before. The driver had been able to stay on her tail when the feds couldn’t.
But ... Daniel wouldn’t have tried to run her off the road ...
. . . would he?
36
By the time Schaffer was finished questioning Annette, Carson had started to sweat. Each time she crossed or uncrossed her legs his entire body tensed when he should have been completely focused on the questions.
It didn’t help that Wainwright and Luttrell, along with Schaffer’s boss, had been in this booth with him for nearly two hours. Neither wanted him there, but Schaffer had overridden their protests.
Carson owed the lady big time. He was, frankly, a little stunned. Why would she protect him when her butt was on the line?
Special Agent in Charge Talley had kept his thoughts to himself. Carson was relatively certain the man had decided there was enough tension in the room without his interference.
Luttrell reached for the door at the same time as Carson.
The glare-off lasted a full five seconds.
“I suppose,” Luttrell mocked, “you’ll post her bail when she’s arraigned.”
Carson chuckled. “You’ll have to find enough evidence to charge her first.”
He walked out of the room. Didn’t spare any of the three men another glance. Maybe his career was over, but he wasn’t backing off until he had the truth.
The whole truth.
To do that he needed Annette Baxter. And Dane Drake.
Wainwright, sans Luttrell, caught up with Carson halfway to the elevators. “You’re throwing away everything,” he cautioned.
Carson stared for several seconds at the man he had trusted, had admired, before he responded. For one of those seconds he considered that Wainwright was correct ... maybe Carson was throwing away all that he’d worked so hard to achieve. “All I want is the truth.” He searched his mentor’s guarded gaze. Until a few hours ago, Carson had never doubted this man ... but that had changed now. “Doesn’t that put us both on the same team?”
Wainwright moved his head from side to side, that fatherly worry cluttering his expression. “You’re the last person on earth that I thought would fall for her ludicrous story.”
There had been a time when a part of Carson had desperately needed a father figure ... he’d prized that aspect of his and Wainwright’s relationship. Not anymore. “What story is that?”
Wariness instantly replaced the worry. “Whatever that woman has told you is nothing but fabricated nonsense to cloud your perspective. You’ve read her file, you know what she’s capable of. I don’t think I need to spell it out.”
That was the moment Carson understood just how deep the lies went. Schaffer had been correct. Wainwright was hiding something. “You’re right. You don’t need to spell it out.” He clapped the man he’d once respected above all others on the shoulder. “When I’m done, I’ll have the whole truth.”
Carson walked away, didn’t look back until he’d reached the elevators where Annette waited. He glanced back once, long enough to see Luttrell and Wainwright huddled with Talley.
Annette didn’t speak until she and Carson were outside the building and headed for her car. She wheeled on him. “You told them, didn’t you?”
Carson was confused for a moment; the conversation with Wainwright was still reverberating in his head. Then he understood. “About the Anderson name?”
Fury radiated from her blue eyes. “No one knew! Only you.”
She got into her rented Jag before he could answer. Shaking his head, he rounded the hood and climbed behind the wheel. Apparently she was too angry to drive. He started the vehicle and turned to her. “I didn’t tell them. I don’t know how they discovered your connection to that alias, but I had nothing to do with it. Remember, I just found out. At the center. Clearly, someone already knew, or your sister wouldn’t be a target.”
That reminder seemed to calm her down or, at least, to shift her anger in another direction.
Carson considered the issue of the murder weapon. “You said you disposed of the weapon Dane used.”
“I did.” She stared forward. Wouldn’t look at him.
“And if the thirty-eight isn’t yours, that will come out.”
