Fourteen
“Creed, I found the same law firm of Kimbal and Wilson represented both Zane Cartland and the dead man, Kirk Fletcher.” Nina had continued digging into a connection between the two men.
As she stared at the name Corrine Kimbal, she wondered why it sounded familiar. “Do you think that’s significant?”
“Kimbal and Wilson?” Creed met her gaze in the rearview mirror. “They’re the high-powered defense firm representing Diego Sanchez. One of the main lawyers is a woman named Corrine Kimbal.”
“Really? She’s listed as the attorney of record for these guys, too. That means she was doing defense work for guys with drug-related arrests for years.” Stunned, she gaped at him. “This is related to the trial. Not my mother’s cold case murder.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Creed cautioned. “But it’s a connection we can’t ignore.”
“I wonder if she represented other drug traffickers.” Corrine would surely be too young to have been involved with her Uncle Mark. But she made a mental note to check just the same.
“Hey, there’s another set of headlights approaching Cartland house,” Creed said urgently. “I don’t like this.”
“Is this some sort of meeting?” Nina looked at her watch. It had been ten minutes since Jackson had gone to check the place out. Ten long, brutal minutes. “I need to check on Jackson.” Without waiting for Creed’s inevitable protest, she pushed out of the back seat.
“Nina, wait,” Creed hissed softly. Ignoring him, she closed the door and sprinted toward the opening between the two houses that Jackson had used earlier.
Her reason for heading out was twofold. One to be there if Jackson needed her, the other was to let him know this was likely related to the trial.
Maybe her Uncle Mark had been eliminated because of his previous drug trafficking.
Maybe his release had upset the drug kingpin.
She’d been so sure Uncle Mark had been silenced because of her mother’s murder.
No wonder Jackson and Creed had recommended she keep an open mind.
She ran to the house, staying low. There was no sign of Jackson, and she realized he was probably at the front of the property, trying to see who was in the vehicles.
A moment later, Creed came up beside her, holding his weapon in hand. He scowled at her, then whispered, “Stay behind me.”
Agreeing with a brief nod, she hung back so he could take the lead. The last thing she wanted to do was to put Jackson or Creed in harm’s way. Yet she couldn’t just sit in the car doing nothing, either.
Where else had she heard the name Corrine Kimbal? The nagging memory wouldn’t materialize in her mind.
Creed moved silently along the back of the house. She followed close behind. The windows remained dark, but she knew the occupants could wake up at any time.
As they crept around the corner of the garage, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Jackson. He, in turn, was not at all happy to see her.
Jackson jerked his head, as if instructing Creed to get her out of there. Creed shrugged and edged closer.
“What happened?” A shrill female voice cut through the silence of the night. Nina belatedly realized one of the occupants of the car had gotten out. “Why haven’t you gotten rid of her yet?”
Her? Meaning Nina? Her eyes widened in shock. Creed and Jackson exchanged a glance.
“They killed Fletch. I’m lucky to have escaped alive.” The much younger male voice sounded annoyed. “You need to hire someone else. I’m out.”
“You’re not finished until I say you are.” Venom dripped from the woman’s voice. “Don’t forget you owe me. The job needs to be done and soon.”
There was no immediate response, and Nina envisioned the two people were glaring at each other. Then Jackson leaned toward Creed.
“Let’s take them,” he whispered.
Creed nodded, then turned his gaze to her. He pulled the key fob from his pocket, pressing it into her hand. “Go back to the SUV. We may need backup.”
She didn’t want to leave, but understood she wasn’t armed and therefore was a hindrance to them. Especially if that woman had really indicated Nina was the actual target.
Without protest, she turned to retrace her steps. She was halfway to the car when she heard shouting. Jackson and Creed were announcing their presence.
She hadn’t heard gunfire, but a sense of urgency had her sprinting the last few yards. Reaching the SUV, she wrenched the car door open and slid behind the wheel. She lost precious seconds moving the seat up to accommodate her shorter stature, then hit the gas, sending the SUV lurching forward.
Driving around the block, she saw a black sedan leaving the Cartland home. Without taking the time to consider her actions, she deliberately rammed into it, the front end of her SUV striking the side panel of the other car.
Pain hit her squarely in the face as her airbags deployed. For a moment she was blind, unable to see anything beyond the shattered windshield.
Then the shouts grew louder. “I’m Texas Ranger Woodlow! Get out of the car! Keep your hands where I can see them!”
Nina lifted her hands, still trying to clear her blurred vision until she realized Jackson wasn’t talking to her. He was speaking to the occupant of the other car.
“Get out of the car, slowly,” Jackson said in a warning tone. “Don’t make any sudden moves or I’ll shoot.”
“What is this about?” The female voice from earlier sounded confused. “My car was hit, not the other way around. You have no cause to order me to do anything. I’m not responsible for this crash. The maniac in the other car is.”
“Well, well. You’re Corrine Kimbal!” Jackson’s voice sounded incredulous. “That’s interesting. Why don’t you explain to me why a defense lawyer from Diego Sanchez’s dream team is meeting with a hired gun at four in the morning?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.
I’m a lawyer meeting with a client. That’s not against the law.
” Then Corrine raised her voice. “Zane, do not say a word, do you understand? Do not say a word! We are exercising our right to remain silent. If you’re going to arrest me, Ranger Woodlow, then you’d better make sure you have your facts straight or I’ll bury you. ”
“I heard you,” Jackson pressed. “I heard you conspiring with Zane Cartland to kill Nina.”
“You heard no such thing.” Nina had to admit, Corrine Kimbal was cool under pressure. “You were eavesdropping on an attorney-client, privileged conversation. You have no idea what we were discussing, and anything you did hear cannot be used against us.”
Corrine turned briefly to look at Nina. The older woman wore a black sweater and black jeans. Her dyed blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She was beautiful, but there was a coldness to her eyes that made Nina shiver. The woman was as ruthless as a snake.
Nina pushed out of the wrecked SUV, standing on shaky legs. She’d never intentionally caused a car crash. Then again, there was a lot of things she’d never done before this trip.
Stepping closer, she tried to get a better look at the attorney. Getting a closer look at Corrine’s face had her abruptly remembering where she’d seen her before.
She was the woman her father was standing next to in the yearbook. Corrine was his date.
Not only that, but she’d seen this woman’s face on a social media page belonging to her half brother, Colin Tillman.
She’d assumed the woman was his mother, as there was a family resemblance.
But she hadn’t dug further into the woman’s background.
Not realizing Corrine had kept her last name of Kimbal, Nina hadn’t made the connection between Corrine and her biological father.
But now she realized Colin was Douglas Tillman and Corrine Kimbal’s son. A child who was conceived just a few months after she was.
And she couldn’t help but wonder if Corrine had intended to kill Nina simply because she was her husband’s illegitimate daughter. Or was there another reason this woman had wanted her dead?
* * *
Lawyer or not, Jackson knew Corrine Kimbal was guilty as sin. He silently repeated the bits of conversation he’d overheard. There was no way that could be considered attorney-client privilege.
Could it?
That was something a judge would have to decide. In the meantime, he wasn’t letting this woman get away.
“Zane, if you’re smart you won’t keep that woman as your lawyer,” Creed drawled. “Trust me, she’ll throw you under the bus the first chance she gets.”
Jackson didn’t dare take his gaze off Corrine. He didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her. “Corrine Kimbal, you’re under arrest. Place your hands on your head. Nina, call 911 to get the local police here.”
Corrine flinched at his words, but then continued to expound on her innocence. “I’ve done nothing wrong. What is the basis for this arrest? A meeting with a client? Please, that’s not against the law.”
If he hadn’t seen her in action during the preliminary court hearings he might have been intimidated.
But this woman lied as easily as she changed her shoes.
The way she’d defended Diego Sanchez, calling him an innocent man set up by the border control agents and the Texas Rangers, had made him sick.
“Put your hands on your head!” he repeated sharply.
Corrine glared at him, then reluctantly complied.
She gave him a condescending look. “I’ll have your badge for this.
” Her tone was haughty. “Arresting a prominent defense attorney without probable cause will not be viewed positively by the judge. This arrest will be tossed out at the arraignment hearing.”
Jackson did his best to ignore her threats, although he hadn’t considered she was Zane Cartland’s lawyer. That did complicate things. The only bright side was that the arraignment hearing wouldn’t be until Monday morning.
As if sharing his concern about the woman being Zane’s attorney, Creed continued talking to the younger man.
“Last chance, Zane,” Creed said. “You need to look out for yourself. That woman is a viper.”
“Not a word, Zane,” Corrine shot back. “This arrest is bogus. They have nothing on us. You hear me? Nothing!”