The Accused (15 page)

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Authors: Jana DeLeon

Tags: #Contemporary romantic suspense, #Harlequin Intrigue, #Fiction

BOOK: The Accused
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“She’s in a coma.”

Alaina’s heart dropped and she choked back a sob.

“It’s touch and go,” Everett said, “but for now, she’s stable.”

“Did they catch her attacker?”

“No, and there were no cameras at her apartment building.”

“Have the police made any progress at all?”

Everett sighed. “I’m afraid not. The two main suspects are Steven Adams and Larry Colbert, who are both apparently lost in the wind. I sent my wife and daughter to her mother’s in Phoenix and stepped up security around the building. If I’d thought for a minute that they’d go after Emily...”

“You couldn’t have known. It makes no sense to take it out on her.”

“No, it doesn’t. Well, I’ve got to get ready for a trial this morning, and I haven’t slept at all. Emily is at Park Memorial Hospital if you want to send a card. I’ll call you as soon as I have an update on anything.”

“Thanks. And, Everett, watch your back.”

“Yeah.”

Carter had been staring at her during the entire conversation, knowing the news wasn’t good. “What happened?” he asked.

Alaina told him about Emily, choking back a sob when she got to the part about the girl being in a coma.

“Did Emily work on the Warren case?”

“No. I mean, indirectly, Emily works on every case. She’s an intern, so she does all the document cataloging, but she’s rarely in court except when she requests to watch the proceedings, and she certainly wasn’t in court for that case.”

“Really? I would think an aspiring attorney would want to be on the ground floor of a criminal case.”

“Emily has no interest in pursuing criminal law. She intends to enter the nonprofit sector. She just hasn’t exactly told Everett that. They would never waste their time and education on helping others, but for Emily, the internship at such a prestigious firm will open practically any door she wants.”

“Sounds like you were close. I’m really sorry.”

Alaina swallowed, the lump in her throat making it ache. “I was closer to her than the others, but that’s not saying a lot. She’s a very private person and I’m a very guarded person, but I like and respect her. She’s so nice.”

Her voice broke and she choked back a sob. “She doesn’t deserve this!”

Carter placed his hand on hers. “Of course she doesn’t.”

“I have to go see her.”

Carter shook his head. “That’s not a good idea. He may have attacked Emily hoping to draw you out.”

“If he doesn’t know where I am, then who’s harassing me here?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t like all these moving pieces. But if I were stalking you, the one place I’d be watching is that hospital.”

She blew out a breath, trying to control her frustration. He was right, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

“Were the missed calls from Everett? You told him to call the sheriff’s department if he couldn’t reach you, right?”

“Yeah. I don’t know why he didn’t call for me there.”

She scrolled through the missed calls, and her pulse quickened when she saw the first one was from Emily. “Emily called me yesterday evening from the law office.”

“Did she leave a message?”

“No.”

“Turn off your phone and turn it back on. Just to make sure there’s nothing hanging out there in cell limbo.”

She powered down the phone, waited ten seconds, then powered it back up, eyes glued to the message window at the bottom. When the message indicator popped up, she jumped on her seat. “There’s a message!”

“Stay calm,” Carter directed. “It may be from Everett.”

Some of the wind left her sails. “You’re right,” she said as she punched the button to check the message. Emily’s voice sounded through the phone a second later.

Alaina, I’m really sorry to call you like this, but I need to talk to you. I found something I don’t understand...it doesn’t look good, but maybe I’m misunderstanding what I’m seeing. I know you will be able to make sense of it. You’re the smartest person I know. And this involves you. Please call me as soon as you get this message.

Alaina’s heart dropped as Emily’s message played. What in the world had the intern stumbled into? She hit Replay and handed the phone to Carter. He listened to the message, his expression becoming graver as the seconds passed.

“I don’t like it,” he said as he handed the cell phone back to her. “Do you know what cases Emily was working on when you left?”

“It could have been anything. A first-year intern is nothing more than a glorified administrative assistant really. Emily did a lot of filing and labeling and assembling documents for court, but she wasn’t involved in the analysis of any of them.”

“But she may have reviewed them if she had the time.”

“Certainly. The way most interns learn is by seeing how the lead attorney has developed the case.” She took a breath and tensed her back, ready to argue. “You realize this means I have to go see her now.”

“She’s in a coma.”

“At this moment, but she may wake up.”

Carter frowned, but she could see the wheels turning. “If she wanted to talk to you about a case, she probably had the case documents with her. I could talk to the officer assigned to the case and see if I can get a copy of the documents recovered at the scene.”

“That would be great!”

“Don’t get excited just yet. They don’t have to give me anything, but I’m hoping if I explain the situation here and ask nicely that they will.”

“We have to try.”

Carter nodded and pulled some money from his wallet. “Let’s head to the house. I’ll do a cursory check while you change clothes, but anything more intense will have to wait until we get back. I don’t have anyone who has the training or authority to do it for me.”

“I wouldn’t want anyone else in there anyway. It may be dangerous for them.”

“I agree. We’ll inform Amos of the situation on the way out—tell him to take a day off.”

Connie came out of the storeroom as Alaina was pulling her purse over her shoulder. “Was my cooking that bad? Neither of you finished your breakfast.”

“I have an emergency back in Baton Rouge, but the breakfast was great.”

Carter nodded. “You keep cooking and Jack might be out of a job.”

“Thanks,” Connie told Carter, “but I’m not interested in doing more work, so my cooking will be our secret. I hope things turn out all right in Baton Rouge.”

“Me, too,” Alaina said.

But she was already worried. What had Emily seen that caused her so much distress? And did it have anything to do with the attack on her?

She hoped answers lay in Baton Rouge because all she’d found in Calais were questions.

Chapter Fifteen

Carter hurried down the hospital stairs to a coffee shop on the first floor, leaving Alaina in Emily’s room, waiting on the doctor to make his rounds. The lead detective on the case had agreed to meet him there, wanting to speak to Alaina as well in case she could provide any information about the attack on Emily. Carter had explained that they were there to get information and likely had nothing to give, but the detective wanted to talk to them anyway.

Carter understood the direction he was taking. Often, people had no idea how much information they possessed because they only had one or two pieces of a large puzzle. But the detective was collecting all the pieces he could and hopefully would form a picture that led to an arrest. Detective work was rarely as portrayed in the movies or books. Mostly, it was tedious and arrests were made over the details and not great leaps of intuition.

The detective wore street clothes, as was often the case when they were canvassing for information, but Carter picked him out of the coffee shop crowd in a matter of seconds. Something about the way cops studied everything while appearing not to and the way they positioned themselves for optimum defense regardless of the situation—it was almost like breathing. He wasn’t sure they could hide it if they wanted to.

As he crossed the shop, the detective spotted him as well and nodded, then pointed to a table in the corner. Carter stopped at the counter to grab a coffee and headed over to join the detective, who was already working on a big cup himself.

“Carter Trahan,” Carter said as he took his seat and extended his hand across the table.

“John Breaux,” the detective said as he gave Carter’s hand a shake. “I appreciate your meeting me.”

“I don’t know if I can help, but you are welcome to anything I have.”

“How is Ms. Jensen?”

“She’s still unconscious but her vitals are stable. The doctors think she will awaken. They just have no idea when.”

“That’s good news compared to last night.”

“I noticed you had a guard at her room. Are you planning to keep one there?”

“Until someone is arrested, absolutely. Given Ms. Jensen’s connections with the law firm and the threat on Mr. Winstrom, we can’t assume this was a random attack. Unconscious in that bed, she’s a sitting duck.”

“I’m glad she’ll have protection. Alaina wanted me to make sure that was the case. If you get short-staffed or get the order from above to pull the security detail, let me know. Alaina said she’d pay for private security herself.”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that, but I appreciate Ms. LeBeau’s offer and will definitely let you know if the situation changes. You said Ms. LeBeau has had some problems since her arrival in Calais?”

Carter nodded and gave John a rundown of the things that had transpired since Alaina’s residency at the estate.

“Is it possible someone local is responsible?” John asked when Carter finished.

“Sure, and I have someone in mind whom I’m keeping an eye on. He was expecting to inherit but Alaina’s stepfather didn’t have the right to distribute the estate. It was all set in stone by her mother, who was the heir.”

“Will he inherit if the sisters don’t meet their obligations?”

“Not that I’m aware of and he wouldn’t be either, as the terms of the will have been kept confidential. But the person I’m talking about isn’t all that stable. He’s childish, at best, and at worst, a professional alcoholic.”

“So he might do it just for sport—if he can’t have it, then they won’t either.”

Carter nodded. “That’s what I was thinking.”

“Makes sense, but I still want to cover all bases.”

“I would, too. What can you tell me about the attack?”

“Ms. Jensen left work at 6:00 p.m. and went to her gym. She worked out for approximately an hour, then had smoothies with some acquaintances for another hour. It was just getting dark when she parked at her apartment.”

“No security cameras, right?”

“No. It’s a decent building but old. It doesn’t have the amenities of newer developments, but it’s near the college and the rent’s cheap, so it tends to be filled up mostly by college students.”

“No one saw anything?”

“I’m headed back over there after this to finish canvassing. Between classes and their social lives, it’s hard to pin down an entire building of students. But so far, no one who was in the building at the time of the attack saw or heard a thing except the girl who called the police.”

“And what did she see?”

“She has an apartment on the side facing the parking lot where the attack occurred. She was on her balcony watering a plant. The lighting in the lot is not substantial, so she didn’t see the strike, but when she heard Ms. Jensen scream, she scanned the lot and saw someone clad in jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt running across the lot and away from the building. Then she saw Ms. Jensen collapsed next to her car and she called 9-1-1.”

Carter shook his head. “A building of college students doesn’t seem like a good mark for a thief. Did you find any prints?”

“No. It may be that he didn’t touch anything we could print, or it may be that he was wearing gloves. The witness couldn’t be sure on that point.”

“Her purse was taken?”

“The receptionist at the law office said Ms. Jensen carried a purse and sometimes a briefcase. There was no sign of either at the law office, the gym or her apartment, so I’m assuming both were taken.”

John frowned.

“What?” Carter asked. “You have that look like something doesn’t sit right with you.”

“Yeah. It could be nothing, but Ms. Jensen was wearing a diamond necklace. It was her mother’s and the stone was a pretty good size. I figure if it was a random theft, he would have pulled it off her neck. The chain was thin.”

“Maybe she screamed and he bolted before he could steal the necklace.”

“Maybe, but the situation doesn’t fit tweaker or professional.”

Carter nodded. “Which leads to the attack being personal and not made by a professional.”

“Yeah, but then why steal her bags? If the same person who threatened Mr. Winstrom is responsible for attacking Ms. Jensen, why make it look like a robbery in one case when he bragged about his work in another?”

“I have no idea, but I don’t like it.”

John blew out a breath and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t either. I’m glad to hear another law enforcement professional say that, because the chief thinks I’m out on a limb here. But I can feel it—something isn’t right about this case.”

“I’m at the same place with the situation in Calais. On the surface, it looks like a fairly simple case of jealousy, but I feel like I’m missing something.”

John nodded. “Like something’s moving just below the surface.”

“Exactly.”

“Do you think our cases are related?” John asked.

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”

* * *

A
LAINA
DOWNED
the last of her iced cappuccino and set the glass back on the coffee shop table with a sigh. Detective Breaux had left just a minute before, no closer to knowing what was going on than he had been before speaking with her.

“I wish I could do something,” she said. “I kept saying ‘I don’t know’ over and over to all Detective Breaux’s questions. I feel so useless.”

“Every little bit helps,” Carter said.

“Helps what? Add more useless information for him to sift through?”

“You sift through tons of data all the time putting a case together. You know firsthand that what seems irrelevant to the layperson could be the item that brings you a conviction.”

“Perhaps, but when I’m sifting, the crime has already been committed. I’m not up against a time clock trying to prevent it from happening again.”

“We all have our roles to play. It doesn’t do you any good to put yourself down. You’re doing what you can.”

“Am I? Because I can’t stop thinking if I’d only gone into town to check my messages yesterday, or if I’d gotten to know Emily better so I could guess at what she wanted, or if I’d never made the impulsive decision to quit my job and move to the swamp in the first place—”

“Maybe she wouldn’t have been attacked?” Carter finished.

“Maybe.” She blew out a breath. “I know it sounds ridiculous when you say it out loud, but I can’t help how I feel.”

“No, but I’m still going to tell you that you’re wrong.”

She gave him a small smile, knowing he was trying to make her feel better. “So what now?”

Carter stared out the window and frowned. She turned and saw a woman walk in front of them on the sidewalk carrying a briefcase.

“Why did she carry a briefcase?” Carter asked. “Wouldn’t a backpack be more normal fare for a college student, even one in law?”

Alaina nodded. “I had a pink one with bright yellow flowers.”

Carter smiled. “I can see that.”

“Emily had the briefcase for her work at the firm. I don’t think she used it for school. She usually left it at the office unless she was taking something home with her.”

“Like last night?”

“If the receptionist saw her with it, then I guess so.”

“Is there any way to tell what she was working on?”

Alaina frowned. “I suppose I could ask Everett, but why?”

“Just thinking. With a random robbery, the perp usually removes anything of value and ditches the containers, but the police didn’t find either in the vicinity.”

“Maybe he jumped in a car and left. Anyway, I don’t see how it would help to find them unless he left a print.”

“No, but I was thinking about the message Emily left for you. She said she’d found something that didn’t look good. Given that she called you right after she left the office, we can assume it’s something she saw at work.”

Alaina straightened in her chair. “And you think she brought whatever it was with her?”

“It would make sense. If her attack is related to information contained in those documents, it would help to know what documents she’d taken with her.”

A wave of frustration coursed through her. “But Everett wouldn’t know what she had, especially if she was bringing it for me to see.”

She looked across the street and her pulse quickened. “I have an idea.”

“Why does that look on your face make me think I’m not going to like it?”

“If you don’t, you can sit here and pretend I never told you.” She nodded her head toward the window. “Across the street is an internet café. They have a couple of computers available for anyone to use. I could log in to the law firm’s server remotely and see what Emily copied before she left for the day. She would never have risked removing originals from the firm.”

“How can you see the copies?”

“As a safety feature, the copier automatically creates a scanned backup of anything processed, either by copying or documents sent to print from a PC.”

Carter’s expression cleared in understanding. “So you could see everything she copied that day.”

“Exactly.”

He frowned. “But surely they deleted your network passwords after you resigned.”

“I’m sure they did, but one of the attorneys there has coffee at that internet café all the time because he’s chasing a doctor who works at this hospital. He just left that café.”

“So? I still don’t get how that helps.”

“He’s an idiot. I can probably guess his password and if anyone checks the server logs, they’ll think it was him. Everyone at the firm knows about the doctor and the café.”

“So you want to hack into your old employer’s server—the most prestigious law firm in Baton Rouge—using a coworker’s credentials.”

She bit her lower lip. “Yes.”

He smiled. “I like it. And I promise I didn’t see a thing.”

She grabbed her purse and they hurried across the street to the café. Although they were already coffee-logged, Carter bought two cups so that nothing appeared out of place. Alaina snagged a computer in a remote corner of the café and went to work. It took only a minute for her to figure out Kurt’s password and gain access to the system.

Carter’s eyes widened when the law firm logo appeared at the top of the page. “Wow, you weren’t lying. What’s his password—123456?”

She rolled her eyes. “Hotguy.”

Carter stared. “You’re kidding me.”

“If only I were. This is the idiot who got the promotion that should have been mine.”

“That’s just wrong, but his incompetence may come in handy now.”

She clicked through the printer queue, scanning for Emily’s passcode. “Here’s Emily’s code.” She pointed to a numbered link, then clicked on it.

As she scanned the documents, her spirit began to flag. They were all blank forms for packets they gave to new clients. Maybe her theory was wrong.

When she got to the last entry in the log, she sucked in a breath.

“What is it?” Carter asked.

“The Warren case. She copied all the interviews with the defendant, his parents and the parents of the victim.”

He shook his head. “And we come full circle—right back to the Warren case. Maybe the attack on Emily
was
related to the vandalism of Everett’s car. If one of those victims’ fathers is mentally off—and it’s a good possibility in either case—they wouldn’t necessarily make rational decisions.”

“And Emily is the easiest target because she’s the only one who doesn’t live somewhere with security and guards.” She blew out a breath. “Damn it! I thought we were onto something.”

He placed on hand on her shoulder. “We are onto something. Every little bit helps and this answers at least one question in your mind. Now you know what Emily wanted to speak to you about.”

“No...I mean, I still don’t. I have no idea what Emily saw in those files that bothered her and I’ve been over them a hundred times.”

“Maybe it was something she didn’t understand because she hasn’t been at it long enough. Likely, it was something you could have easily explained.”

“So the attack on her had nothing to do with me?”

“We have no way of knowing for certain, but taking this into account, it doesn’t look that way.”

“So what do we do now?”

“You check on Emily one last time and then we figure out what to do about that security risk you’re living in.”

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