“HICC has been busy,” Daphne muttered. The pictures showed Weeks and Beeker at various locations, but the most damning included the two of them and a van full of young people, some bound, most looking drugged.
“Here’s what I think,” the detective continued. “Beeker pulled you into this human trafficking ring a couple of years ago. It’s occasional work but pays well. Then when his bosses needed James Church dead, they turned to someone they trusted, Beeker, who brought you in again. The timing couldn’t have been better because you have gambling debts with a few very unforgiving people.”
The lawyer closed his eyes for a moment, but didn’t stop the process.
“You don’t know shit,” Weeks said.
“You owe Freddy Montagne $153,000, Mr. Weeks,” the detective said. “The horses haven’t been kind to you.”
Weeks opened his mouth. His lawyer shook his head. Weeks looked as if he’d override his counsel, but then snapped his lips shut.
“The payout you’d get for the hit would go a long way to clearing your debt, so you accepted the job,” she continued. “Two weeks ago, you and Beeker traveled cross-country, landed in Reno, stole a truck, drove to Mystery Lake, and stalked Church.”
“With the help of intel from Terry Palance, who managed to track his phone,” Ryan added. At the mention of that name, Weeks paled.
“I think he just realized they aren’t winging it here,” Daphne said, her voice laced with humor and admiration.
“You took a shot, missed, then kidnapped Ms. Parks in the hopes of using her as leverage to finish the job you’d fucked up once already,” Ryan continued. “Then when that went sideways, Beeker started getting cold feet. He couldn’t afford to get caught because he’s the sole support for his ailing mother. But you needed the money to buy time with Montagne. You solved the argument by taking Beeker out of the picture, then continued with the original plan to kill James Church.”
Daphne hit the button to unmute the call. “How the hell did you dig up all this information overnight?”
Callie and Ava laughed. “We’re that good,” Ava said, Callie agreeing with a “Hear hear.”
“This is better than my books,” Daphne added.
“Not quite,” Ava said, “but glad you’re impressed. Fiction is much sexier than real life.”
“That’s why it’s entertainment,” Daphne replied. “Seriously, though, I don’t need all the details of the crimes, but when we’re back, when this is all wrapped up, I want to know how youacquiredthe knowledge.That’sthe interesting part to me.”
“Cook us a meal and you’re on,” Callie said. “At least to the extent we can talk about it.”
“Deal,” Daphne said as Weeks’s voice cut across the line.
“I want a deal. Can I get a deal?” he asked, his eyes darting between his lawyer and Ryan.
The lawyer visibly sighed, then looked to Ryan, too.
“You know the drill, counselor. Come with a proposal and we’ll discuss it with the DA,” Ryan said.
In turn, the lawyer nodded. “Could you give us the room, please?”
Ryan went through the motions of officially ending the interview, then he and his colleague departed.
“Now what?” Lovell asked, as Ava and Callie filled the screen.
“Now we wait to see the proposal the lawyer will put forward,” Callie said.
“I wasn’t much help,” he said.
“We weren’t sure how the interview would go, which is why we wanted you there,” Callie replied. “Don’t think of it as a waste of time, though. If the DA strikes a deal, we’ll want you to fact-check his statements about your siblings to the extent you can.”
Ava chuckled. “Buckle up, boys and girls, the ride is about to get bumpy.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Daphne picked up her phone, set it down again, then headed to the minibar. Unlike her, James had packed his running gear and, needing to burn off some energy, he’d gone to the gym fifteen minutes ago. She’d sensed he needed some time alone as well, so she’d kissed him goodbye and told him she’d figure out dinner while he was gone.
Grabbing a sparkling water, she crossed the room to what she now referred to as their rumination window, the spot she and James gravitated to when they needed or wanted to think. Having snagged her phone on the way, she looked at the screen, debating whether to call Callie or not. As close as they were, they’d never crossed the line into each other’s professional space. And what she was contemplating doing definitely crossed that line.
