Chapter Fifteen
Olivia stared at her computer screen and rubbed her bleary eyes. “I thought I’d find something interesting on this flash drive, but all I see is research for the Evan Brown case. Why did Zoe back up this case to a flash drive and not the cloud with all her other research?”
“Maybe because she’d picked this one for her show?
” Lincoln tapped the file folder in front of them, the same one Olivia had liberated from Melissa MacGuiness’s bag.
“Wendy was stealing content. Maybe Zoe knew. So she backed up the more important notes on a flash drive instead of on the cloud account.”
“Zoe told Wendy she was going to use the Hamilton case when she was really interested in the Brown case?”
“But Wendy figured it out anyway,” Lincoln said.
“Yes, but I feel like I’m missing something. There are countless unsolved murders. Why was this one so important that Zoe was keeping her files secret?”
“Wendy’s spying would also explain why Zoe refused to share the show’s financial information with her. She doesn’t trust Wendy.”
“With good reason.”
“What do the notes on the flash drive say about the Brown case?” Lincoln asked.
“Thirty years ago, an unnamed caller implicated Evan Brown and his brother, Tim, in two murders committed during a burglary gone wrong. Tim and Evan both had rap sheets that included sexual assault, plus short jail sentences for a string of burglaries they committed together a few years before. Warrants were issued for Tim and Evan. The cops arrested Tim, but Evan was nowhere to be found. His car and some other personal possessions were also missing.”
“He ran and left his brother hanging?”
“That’s what the cops assumed at the time.
In his statement, Tim claimed they’d only planned to burglarize the house.
They thought the house was empty, but the property owner confronted them as they entered through the kitchen window.
He was armed and fired at them. The bullet grazed Tim’s arm.
Tim wrestled the homeowner and made him drop the gun.
He said Evan picked up the gun and shot at the homeowner twice.
One bullet hit him in the head, killing him.
The second went through the interior wall and killed the homeowner’s disabled adult son.
Since Tim was wounded, his blood—and DNA—was found at the scene—and on the gun. ”
Lincoln said, “Under the New York felony murder rule, it doesn’t matter which of them committed the murder. If the killing occurred during the commission of the burglary, all participants in the felony can be charged.”
“Tim was arrested, tried, and convicted of second-degree murder, plus some lesser charges. Due to the severity of the crime and his previous record, his sentence was harsh: twenty-five years to life in prison.”
“I hear a but in there,” Lincoln said.
Olivia nodded. “Turns out Evan’s been dead all this time. His car was pulled from a lake last year. His skeletonized remains were inside. Zoe’s notes say he’d been underwater for decades.”
“We need to get more information on that case.”
“Agreed,” Olivia said. “Also, we have that list of potential passcodes I found in Zoe’s desk.”
“We can use them to try and access her financial accounts,” Lincoln suggested. “The money always tells a story.”
“It does, and I don’t know why hacking Zoe’s accounts makes me feel as sleazy as searching her apartment and breaking into her office. I’m only trying to help her.”
“She doesn’t ever have to know.”
“Not telling her feels dishonest too.” Olivia’s phone buzzed with a text. She ripped her eyes off her computer screen to see Nicki’s name. She tapped the screen. Her blood went cold as she read the words aloud. “‘Come get me.’” She texted back: Where are You?
Nothing. Not even three dots to indicate Nicki was texting back. Olivia pressed the “Call” button. Nicki’s phone rang three times, then went to voicemail.
“She’s not answering.” She looked up at Lincoln. “She’s never texted me while she’s on a date. Never. She keeps a tight wrap on her dating life.”
“Where is she?” Lincoln was already out of his chair and heading toward the door.
“Let me look. I can find her phone.” Olivia and Nicki had agreed to share their locations with each other, but Olivia had never tried to find her before.
She’d promised to only use the app in an emergency.
Nerves gathered in her belly as she waited for it to open.
“I don’t like this. I have a really bad feeling. ”
“Let’s go. Use the app in the car.” Lincoln was at the front door, keys in hand. “We’ll head toward her place.”
Olivia’s Find My app opened as she followed him. She held her breath until Nicki’s phone location showed up as a dot on the map. Olivia expanded the map until she could read street names. “Her phone is a half mile from her apartment. I think this is a restaurant.”
They jumped into Lincoln’s car. Olivia was still fastening her seat belt as he sped away from the curb.
“Do you want to call the police?” he asked.
“And tell them what?” Olivia tried to quell the sick feeling in her stomach. “That my niece texted me for a ride and now won’t answer her phone? It hardly sounds like an emergency.” Yet Olivia couldn’t help but think that’s exactly what it was.
“It’ll be OK.” But Lincoln’s voice lacked conviction. “Maybe she’s having a terrible date and needs to be extracted from it.”
“Nicki can and has handled bad dates herself, and if she really needs an extraction, she’d call.” Olivia couldn’t imagine Nicki reaching out to her unless something was seriously wrong. Dread rose in her throat, solid enough to restrict her breath. She closed her eyes and breathed.
The car leaned as Lincoln took the next turn at a fast pace. Olivia grabbed the door handle. With his former job as a cop and her career in true crime, they both immediately thought of all the worst-case scenarios. Possibilities reeled in Olivia’s mind. Stop. Imagining the worst would not help.
Barely ten minutes passed before Lincoln pulled up next to the restaurant. There were no spots at the curb, so he stopped in the middle of the road. “You go in. I’ll park.”
Olivia was already opening the door. She stepped out, slammed it closed, and jogged to the door of the restaurant.
She went inside. From the lobby, she could hear a commotion.
Olivia hurried through the restaurant and past a bar area.
A small crowd of customers and waitstaff, dressed in black slacks, white polo shirts, and red logo aprons, gathered in front of a narrow hallway with a restroom sign posted above it.
She could hear two men arguing. Olivia couldn’t see them over the crowd.
“No. I won’t let you.”
“Get the fuck out of my way,” a second man shot back. “She’s my girlfriend. I’ll take care of her.”
“You didn’t come together,” Man Number One said. “If she’s your girlfriend, show me pictures of you two together. You must have a bunch on your phone, right?”
“I don’t have to show you shit.”
Olivia rose onto her toes and caught a glimpse between the onlookers’ bodies.
Nicki sat in the hallway, her body propped up against the wall.
Her head lolled, and her legs were splayed to the side as if they’d simply folded.
A dark-haired man in a blue button-down shirt knelt next to her.
Staring at his watch, he held his forefingers on her wrist. Alarm fired in Olivia’s chest.
She shoved her way past a woman. The woman pushed back. Olivia wanted to stab her. “Get out of my way.” She pushed her aside.
Near Nicki, a blond man looked agitated. “I told you she said she felt sick. She said she had a virus or something. I’ll take her home.”
“No. She’s been drugged, and she’s going to the hospital,” the dark-haired man said.
“Drugged?” the blond protested. “No way. She seemed fine before she puked.”
“Move!” Olivia elbowed her way through the last few people.
Blood trickled from the lip of the dark-haired man kneeling next to Nicki. Cupping her chin, he pulled down one of her eyelids. “Can you hear me? What’s your name?”
Nicki didn’t respond.
“Her name is Nicki. I’m her aunt. She texted me to come and get her.” Olivia dropped to her knees and grabbed Nicki’s hand. “Nicki? It’s Aunt Liv. I’m here.”
Nicki didn’t respond. Olivia brushed her hair away from her face. Nicki was as pale as the white wall behind her, and her body was limp. Normally, she practically vibrated with youth. Seeing her unconscious broke Olivia’s heart.
The dark-haired man gave Olivia a one-second glance. “I called 911. An ambulance should be here any minute.”
“Thank you.” Olivia could barely think.
He turned back to Nicki. “Nicki? Can you wake up? I need you to open your eyes.”
Nothing.
Olivia focused on the slow but steady rise and fall of Nicki’s chest.
She’s breathing.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Lincoln at her side.
“What happened?” he asked.
The dark-haired man answered, “I suspect she was drugged.”
Her date? The man who’d claimed to be her boyfriend? Olivia looked for him, but he was no longer standing next to Nicki. Where did he go?
She looked through the window overlooking the street.
Emergency vehicles were double-parked out front.
She could see an ambulance, the paramedics, and a police car.
The mood in the restaurant shifted. Diners jumped out of their chairs.
Two paramedics hustled through, carrying their med kits.
Tables were moved to make room for the gurney.
Paramedics evaluated Nicki and started an IV.
In minutes, she was scooped onto the gurney, strapped in, and rolled away.
Olivia followed them through the restaurant.
A staff member opened the door and held it.
Fresh air swept inside. A few dead leaves tumbled across the threshold into the lobby, coming to a rest at the base of the hostess’s podium.
Outside on the sidewalk, pedestrians paused, staring at the emergency vehicles. Some moved on after a quick glance. Others lingered, their morbid curiosity overruling their manners. Red, white, and blue lights swirled like a patriotic light show.
The cool air jarred Olivia’s brain into action. Who would drug Nicki? She scanned the crowd, looking for the blond man. She nudged Lincoln with her elbow. “When I got here, I heard a man claiming to be her boyfriend. I assume that was her date, but I don’t know that for sure.”
She wanted to go back to the bar and interrogate the staff. A young woman didn’t “get” drugged. Someone did it in a very active sense. The restaurant wasn’t that big or bustling. Someone had seen something.
“Nicki doesn’t have a boyfriend, right?” Lincoln asked.
“Right, at least not one she’s mentioned to me.
” Olivia’s gaze skimmed the crowd. “He’s gone.
Someone in the bar must have seen him.” She closed her eyes and pictured the young man she’d seen in that two-second glance.
“He’s six foot, maybe a little taller, athletic looking, blond, black T-shirt, jeans. ”
“He’ll be on the surveillance tapes.” Lincoln’s mouth flattened. “Don’t worry. I’ll find him.”
Olivia had no doubt. “I’m riding with her.”
“I’ll meet you at the hospital,” he said. But instead of heading for his car, which she could see parked illegally in a fire lane a hundred feet down the street, Lincoln followed the patrol officer back into the restaurant.
Knowing she could rely on Lincoln to investigate, Olivia turned her attention back to Nicki, who was being loaded into the ambulance. Olivia climbed up and took a seat on the bench next to the paramedic. He was monitoring Nicki’s vitals.
Olivia touched her niece’s face. Unconscious, with her guard down, Nicki looked ten years younger, like she was still a teenager.
Anger stirred in Olivia’s chest. Nicki was smart, independent, and careful.
But then, Olivia had been all those things, and she’d still been victimized.
Whoever did this to Nicki needed to go down.
“How is she?”
He shrugged. “The same.”
Olivia hoped that the same meant stable.