Best Laid Plans (20 page)

The question Lucy most wanted answered was why Mona had sent Elise to James Everett. There had to be a specific reason, over and above that his regular girl Bella was sick.
If
she had been sick.

“Barry,” Lucy said as they were driving to Mona Hill’s residence, “I think we should talk to Bella first.”

“Why?”

“Because this whole thing feels wrong. Bella gets sick and Elise is sent to Everett instead—after she either killed Harper Worthington or witnessed his murder.”

“You’re jumping to a conclusion.”

“Am I? A witness put Elise at the motel at Worthington’s time of death; she then goes to Everett and that’s where we find Worthington’s phone. It’s like someone is dropping breadcrumbs for us to follow. I feel like we’re being led from point A to point B because that’s where someone wants us to go.”

“The evidence hasn’t been that easy to obtain,” Barry countered. “We’re good investigators, and we have access to a lot of information and resources. Plus, young prostitutes aren’t the smartest girls on the street.”

“I know what you’re thinking—Elise took the phone, probably wanted to sell it or get information off it, and accidentally left it in Everett’s room not realizing that tracking the phone would be so easy.” Lucy just didn’t believe it. It felt off to her, and she couldn’t explain why. “It seems too coincidental.”

“Let’s assume that Elise was involved in Worthington’s death,” Barry said.

“That’s an easy assumption.”

“What if she was ordered last-minute to take over Bella’s client?”

“Okay,” Lucy said.

“Okay? You’re giving in too easily.”

“I’m not giving in. I think it’s possible. But that’s why I want to talk to Bella before Mona Hill knows what we want. If this woman is as dangerous as Tia thinks, she may intimidate Bella into silence.”

Lucy looked up Bella’s address from Tia’s records. “Well, dammit,” she said. “Mona Hill owns and lives in a twelve-unit apartment building west of downtown. Bella rents an apartment from her. Bella isn’t going to talk to us, especially at her apartment.”

“Because someone will rat on her.”

Lucy nodded. “Tia might be able to track her down and talk to her off-site. Can I send her a message?”

“You don’t have to ask me.”

Lucy hesitated, then said, “I don’t really know what my role is in this investigation.” There. She’d said it.

“What does that mean?”

“Sometimes, you keep me out of the loop, on a need-to-know basis. Or you get irritated when I ask questions. Or completely dismiss a theory. Then other times, you seem to want a dialogue, or seem surprised when I don’t automatically do something—like email Tia.”

He didn’t say anything and Lucy hit herself for being so damn needy. No, it wasn’t that. It was that she wanted to know exactly where she stood. Was there something wrong in that?

“I’m a rookie, and I took your conversation to heart on Saturday night. I had a wonderful dinner with Sean, we spent all day Sunday doing yard work at St. Catherine’s Boys Home, and I barely
thought
about the case. I know that I’m obsessive and a workaholic. But I also have an impression that you’re waiting for me to slip up.”

“I’m not,” Barry said. “I’m not used to working with a rookie like you. The last rookie we had on the squad was a guy who never should have been in Violent Crimes. He couldn’t handle half the cases we deal with and had no instincts to speak of—in what he said or did. He left the month before you got here—went into an analysis unit at headquarters, because he should never have been around people—so maybe you’re bearing the brunt of my leftover frustration with him.”

Lucy didn’t think that was the complete story, but it satisfied her for the time being. She turned her attention to her phone and sent Tia a message.

Barry pulled up in front of Mona Hill’s apartment building a few minutes later.

It wasn’t what either of them expected.

While the neighborhood wasn’t particularly nice, the apartment complex was well maintained. Two brick buildings faced each over a tidy green courtyard. Each building had a main entrance, so no one had a door that went directly outside, which helped with security. There were blinds on the windows, not the sheets or newspaper that were often the décor of necessity in some slums.

Barry looked at the address again. “Hill is in unit one, the building on the right.”

They crossed the street and walked through the courtyard. The front door was solid wood with thick, etched glass in the center. Barry rang the bell for Mona Hill’s apartment. Lucy felt eyes on her. She glanced behind her, but didn’t see anyone. All the blinds were closed.

“What can I do for the FBI today?” A voice came out of the speaker.

Barry frowned and glanced at Lucy. Obviously there was a camera, and they must look like federal agents on the surface, though Lucy thought they also could have passed for SAPD detectives.

Barry said, “Mona Hill?”

“Yes?”

“Agents Crawford and Kincaid with the FBI. We have a few questions. It won’t take long.”

“I don’t care to speak to the FBI.”

“You’re not in any trouble, we just—”

“I know I’m not in any trouble, sugar,” Mona said.

“Ma’am, this is an official federal investigation, and if you don’t talk to us here, we’ll need to bring you in for questioning.”

“Really?” Mona said. “After you just told me I’m not in any trouble?” She laughed. The speaker made her voice sound tinny.

Barry was tense and muttered something under his breath that Lucy couldn’t make out.

Lucy said, “Ms. Hill, you know how this works. We can do this dance indefinitely, but in the end, you’ll either talk to us here, or talk to us at FBI headquarters.”

“That’s not how it works in
my
world.”

“Or Agent Crawford and I can make your life miserable. Follow your employees—for lack of a better word—when they go out to work. Arrest them, arrest their clients, cause you a few sleepless nights. Indefinitely. That’s my idea of fun.”

“You must not have much of a life, Agent Kincaid.” Her words were meant to be insulting, but her tone had changed from playful to all business. “I would then sue you for harassment.”

“That would cost you time and money before you could get us off your case. Considering evidence that you have information pertinent to our investigation is pretty damn good, we’ll get a warrant and compel you to talk. Or you can talk to us now.”

Silence. Lucy held her breath, kept her expression blank and her chin up. She felt Mona Hill watching them, though Lucy resisted looking around for the camera.

“Good luck getting your fucking warrant,” Mona said.

“Thank you for your time,” Lucy said. “We’ll just wait here and speak to your employees until the warrant comes through.”

Barry opened his mouth, then didn’t say anything.

The door buzzed and Lucy pushed it open before Mona changed her mind.

“Ballsy,” Barry said under his breath.

Lucy didn’t respond—couldn’t respond—because her heart was pounding. There was something about Mona’s tone that had her on edge.

The first door on the right opened and Mona stepped out. She closed the door behind her. “That’s far enough, sugar,” she said.

Lucy had miscalculated. Mona wasn’t scared of them, she was curious. Suspicious. Shrewd. Wanted them to show their hand.

Mona was in her mid-thirties with wise eyes and a self-assured confidence that wasn’t just bravado. She was of mixed race, so Lucy couldn’t tell which ethnicity she might identify with, if any—she could have blended with almost any culture with relative ease. Her skin was slightly darker than Lucy’s half-Cuban complexion, but her eyes were green and her hair was a curly light brown. She was alluring and sharp, as if every bone in her body could cut someone in half.

Lucy wished she could warn Barry that they’d stepped into Mona’s sandbox, and Mona was in charge.

“Thank you for speaking with us, Ms. Hill,” Barry said.

“Your girl threatened me,” Mona said, sounding wholly unthreatened. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?” Every word out of her mouth was a contradiction. She damn well knew she had a choice, and her choice was to listen, not speak, unless she wanted to tell them something.

“It wasn’t a threat, Ms. Hill. We’re looking for a girl named Elise. We heard she works for you.”

“I don’t know anyone by the name of Elise,” she said.

She was lying.

“We know you sent her to meet with at least one of your clients,” Barry said.

“No, you don’t,” Mona countered. She was answering Barry, but looking straight at Lucy.

“We’re not here to arrest you for solicitation,” Barry said.

Mona laughed.

“But we can make your life difficult if you don’t cooperate.”

“Sugar, you don’t know the pile of shit you’re stepping in.”

“Elise is a suspect in a murder investigation,” Barry said, “and I have enough evidence to get a warrant for your phone records, property records, employee records, rental records, and bank records—and whatever else I can think of between here and the AUSA’s office.”

Mona tightened her jaw but didn’t say a word. That threat seemed to hold a bit of water. She was used to dealing with SAPD and the San Antonio criminal justice system; the federal system was not only different, but carried a mightier hammer.

Lucy spoke. “We know that Elise is new in town. Why would you protect her?”

“Who says I am?”

Mona was good. She didn’t reveal anything in her expression or body language. She was assessing them, but Lucy knew Mona would never give them any information if it didn’t directly benefit her. And Mona didn’t get to where she was by turning on her girls at the first sign of trouble.

“I’m new in town, too,” Lucy said. “I have no loyalties, no friends, no baggage. I will make it my life’s mission to make your life miserable. Or I can forget you completely.”

She hoped her expression was as serious as her voice.

Silence descended in the small entry for a good minute. No one moved.

“There’s nothing to this story you’re pulling out of thin air,” Mona said. “It’s simple. Last week a girl who called herself Elise asked for some work. She seemed to know the ropes. When one of my regulars got sick, I called her. That’s it.”

“How many clients did you send her to?” Barry asked.

“I’m not answering that.”

“What’s her phone number?” Barry asked.

Mona rattled off a number and Barry wrote it down.

“You wouldn’t take a stranger into your operation without vetting her,” Lucy said. “You’re not that stupid. Who referred Elise?”

Mona laughed humorlessly but didn’t answer.

“Agent Kincaid asked you a question.”

“Get a fucking warrant, and I still won’t tell you.”

“I think you will,” Barry said, irritated.

No, she wouldn’t. Lucy was certain this was the extent of the information Mona would share. Enough to give them a lead, not enough to put Mona or this Elise in any direct harm from the authorities. In fact, it was too easy. She gave them one thing—a way to track Elise. Why? Why even give them that? She could have lied, said she didn’t have a number. She could have told them to pound sand. But she gave them a lead.

Mona stared at Barry without blinking. “Arrest me, or leave my property.”

“We’ll be back,” Barry said. “We have more questions, and like I said, it’ll be here or at headquarters.”

He turned to the main door and opened it. As he stepped out, Lucy followed. Mona said, “Agent Kincaid?”

Lucy turned. Mona had a half smile on her lips, but there was nothing friendly about her expression.

Mona said, “I never forget a face.”

Lucy’s head spun and if Barry hadn’t touched her arm just then, she might have collapsed. She turned and walked out with tunnel vision. She didn’t really remember how she got to the car, only that she was in the passenger seat sitting on her hands to keep them from shaking.

Barry asked, “What happened back there? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Nothing,” Lucy said.

Everything.

“Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to say.”

“Hill was just trying to get under your skin. You got us in, that’s the first step. We’ll come back and push harder.” He glanced at Lucy, then turned the ignition and pulled out of the parking space. “I thought you had a thicker skin than this.”

She straightened her spine. “I’m fine. She just caught me off guard.”

“We don’t have that luxury,” Barry said. “She’s savvy. She’ll hold us at bay for as long as she can. But we’ll run the phone number, see what we can get. Probably a burner, but it’s a local area code. We might get lucky and track down where it was purchased, see if we can get more info about this girl. It’s nearly five, we need to head back to headquarters.”

Lucy just wanted to go home.