Chapter 25
Pulling into the parking lot of her building, Laurel could not wait to get out of the bulletproof vest. The search of Tyler Griggs’s apartment had led to nothing.
She had Nester trying to track Tyler’s last week, but there weren’t many CCTV cameras in the smaller town of Elk Hollow.
She pulled to a stop to the right of the Staggers Creamery door.
Walter angled his head, looking at the cloudy sky and trees around them. “Hold on, boss. I’m having Nester check the outlying cameras. He says there haven’t been any disturbances, but let’s just make sure.” His phone dinged. “All right. Run from the vehicle into the vestibule. Ready? Go.”
Laurel jumped out and jogged to open the door, not surprised that Walter flanked her back, his gun out and pointed at the trees.
“We’d know if a sniper had climbed a tree.
Huck and Nester have more cameras out there than we do in all of Seattle.
” She moved inside, already reaching for the Velcro beneath her sweater before stopping cold. “Abigail.”
Her half sister leaned against the far wall, scrolling through her phone. “There you are. I’ve been waiting forever.” She cast a glance around the quiet vestibule. “If you’re going to have security on the door, you should at least provide somewhere to sit out here.”
Walter walked in behind Laurel. “Ah, shit,” he muttered beneath his breath.
Laurel strode forward and scanned her ID. The door clicked open. “Come up to my office.”
“Happily,” Abigail said, turning to follow her with a graceful hop.
Since it was after five, Laurel didn’t expect Kate to be at her post, and a quick glance into Nester’s computer hub showed him on the phone with somebody about CCTV.
She nodded, waited for a chin jerk from him, and then continued down the hallway toward her office.
“Walter, you can take off,” she called back. “I’ll head home with Huck.”
“I’ll wait until you go,” Walter barked, heading into the conference room.
Laurel pulled the Velcro free as she walked into her office, loosening the vest before taking a seat across the rough door she used as a desk. The blinds were closed, but she could hear the rain pattering outside. “What do you need, Abigail?”
Abigail gracefully sat on one of the two white leather chairs and crossed her legs.
Back to form today, she wore black slacks, a deep red sweater, and a Van Cleef necklace with matching earrings.
Somehow, the red never competed with her natural auburn hair, which fell to her shoulders.
Like Laurel’s. “I merely wanted to make sure you were all right after my interview with Rachel Raprenzi. I’m trying to save my life, you know. ”
“I’m sure it amused you,” Laurel murmured, studying the woman who looked so much like her.
One of Abigail’s brows arched. “Being interviewed?”
“Yes, by the woman you once attacked and threatened to kill.” Laurel couldn’t prove it, but she knew that Abigail had done so a while back just to mess with one of Laurel’s cases. “She has no clue, does she?”
Abigail smiled, showing perfect white teeth.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.
” She brushed invisible lint off her pressed pants.
“She is a twit, though, don’t you think?
Much better suited to the mouth breather you’re dating than are you.
They probably made a fine couple. I mean, if she wasn’t such a useless bitch. ”
Laurel rolled her neck, really wanting to rip off her sweater and then the damn vest. “I had a run-in with your attorney today.”
Abigail pursed her lips. “That’s interesting. Tell me more.”
So he hadn’t cleared his plan with his client. “How do you do it?” Laurel stretched out her legs beneath the desk.
“Do what?”
How did she even ask? Why would she? “Get these men so devoted to you? To believing what you say instead of what the evidence shows? Get them so inspired?”
“Oh. That.” Abigail waved a hand in the air, showing newly painted red nails. “Men are easy. The key is making them think everything is their idea.”
All right. “How long do you plan to dangle Agent Norrs on the hook?” She liked the metaphor but not the reality.
Abigail’s eyes widened. “On the hook? But I love him, Laurel. He’s so big and strong.
” She wrinkled her nose. “He keeps me safe, you know? Just like your Huck does for you. We really should double-date once in a while. I mean, after this whole murder charge goes away.” Her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip.
“We’re so much alike, you and me. Both dating tough, by-the-book badasses. Right?”
Except Laurel truly cared for Huck. Abigail only cared for herself. “Do you ever wonder about it?” she mused.
Abigail’s gaze sharpened. “Wonder about what?”
“What the rest of us actually feel. You mimic emotions but don’t truly feel them. Are you curious?” She couldn’t help but be intrigued.
“That’s just mean.” Abigail pouted. “I feel everything. More than you could even imagine.”
Perhaps. Not love or empathy, but definitely something. Laurel shrugged. “Agent Norrs is a good man, I believe. Stop using him.” But he would certainly help with Abigail’s trial.
Abigail flashed her left hand with a two-carat diamond solitaire. “But we’re engaged. He went all out. Isn’t it pretty?”
Laurel lifted her chin. “He’s not like the others you’ve manipulated. When you dump him, he’ll be angry.”
Abigail laughed now. “They all get angry. Men are barely a step up from children. Please, Laurel. I do know what I’m doing.
” She leaned in, her voice dropping conspiratorially low.
“As do you. Nice move getting your mother out of the country on a long vacation. My attorney would’ve eviscerated her on the stand. ”
Laurel kept her emotions under control, slowly placing her phone on the desk and then pulling a notebook and pen toward her. She pressed the recording button. “Interview with Dr. Abigail Caine.” She gave the time and date.
Abigail’s lips twitched. “What are you doing?”
Laurel lowered her chin. “Dr. Caine, you alleged on The Killing Hour Saturday night that you have pertinent information regarding a trafficking ring here in Washington State. How did you come by such information?”
Realization dawned across Abigail’s face and her cheek creased. “My fiancé should be here in a few moments to pick me up. Stop being silly.”
Laurel angled her head to the side to call down the hallway. “Nester? I need you to prepare an emergency warrant for us to hold and secure Dr. Caine as a material witness. Please do so now.”
Abigail’s chin slowly lowered, and her eyes gleamed. “You’re making a mistake.”
Laurel kept her expression blank. “Dr. Caine, you said you have information. Either you lied on the podcast, or you need to start talking now. Who is Joley McNalley?”
“All right.” Abigail crossed her legs. “She’s a girl our father said he had secured somewhere, and when I arrived at his motel room, he said she’d died weeks ago from an overdose. He would not tell me where her body lay, so I have no idea.”
“You gave a list to Rachel Raprenzi during the podcast. What was on it?” Laurel asked.
Abigail lifted a shoulder. “It was a list of missing teenagers from the Seattle area that I found online. I’m not an investigator like you, but I felt like I should at least perform a Google Search.”
How annoying. “So you have no real information about a trafficking ring?”
“No. Just that our father said he made a bunch of money recently by assisting with a ring and saying he had that girl hidden. That’s all. I certainly wish I could provide more information to you.” Abigail uncrossed her legs. “It’s your job to figure out where dear old Dad played the last year.”
The man had certainly hidden himself well. He had spent time down in an artist co-op in Arizona, so perhaps he’d just been wandering. Abigail had probably made up the entire situation as a defense for herself. There was no way to prove it, however. Laurel clicked off the recording app.
Abigail lounged across from her, looking far too pleased with herself. “You’re so cute to tag me as a material witness. My attorney would’ve chewed you up and spit you out so quickly. But I’m glad I could help on this investigation.” Her voice was light, almost smug.
Laurel tapped a staccato rhythm against the desktop. “If you do have any information regarding Joley McNalley, be a decent human being and—”
A sharp ping echoed through the office, metallic and faint. Laurel’s head snapped up. Abigail’s smile slipped, her brow furrowing.
The next sound was louder. Violent. Glass exploded inward, shards spraying across the desk and scattering over the floor. Metal clattered as the blinds jerked and twisted, punctured by a bullet that ripped through with vicious precision.
Laurel’s brain registered the gunfire a split second after her body was already moving. She lunged across the desk, slamming into Abigail and driving her hard to the floor.
“Get down!” Laurel’s shout was guttural, the adrenaline twisting her voice.
Abigail hit the floor with a gasp, limbs tangled awkwardly beneath her. “Laurel, what the—”
Another shot cracked through the room, tearing into the wall behind them. The blinds shredded, their metal slats flailing like loose wire. Rain blew in through the ruptured glass, icy and stinging.
“Shots fired,” Laurel yelled, flattening herself against the floor, her arm slung over Abigail’s shoulders to keep her pinned. Abigail’s heart beat steadily against her. Too calm. “Stay down,” Laurel growled.
“I am down.” Abigail’s voice was muffled, pressed against the hardwood. “Is this your idea of hospitality?”
“Shut up.” Laurel’s fingers were already at her holster, her sidearm cool and solid in her grip. The laptop was thrown askew, its screen cracked from where it had slammed against the edge of the desk. Papers drifted like leaves caught in a storm.
Another bullet tore through the window, punching through the broken glass and embedding itself in the opposite wall.
Laurel’s mind raced, calculating angles, positions.
North side—behind the building somewhere in the trees?
They didn’t have security back there. She’d kept the blinds drawn. Had the shooter just guessed?
She angled her head to see Walter and Nester headed up the hallway, guns out, crouched low.
Walter caught her gaze. “Laurel? Report. Are you hit?”
“Negative. We’re both fine. But we have a sniper outside, north ridge.” She pressed a warning hand on Abigail’s arm and then rolled to the other side of her desk, coming up and shooting into the tree line and into the forest. To where she could loosely calculate the sniper might be.
Walter edged around the desk on the other side, still low.
Another bullet tore through the air, the blinds jerking violently before falling to the floor in a tangled mess.
Laurel twisted, her eyes narrowing as she aimed toward the shattered window. She couldn’t see anything. The rain outside was a solid sheet of gray, masking whatever vantage point the shooter was using. “Now—higher to the north.”
She and Walter rose at once, firing toward the northern tree line while Nester grabbed Abigail’s shoulders and pulled her out of the office toward the conference room.
A truck coughed from the tree line. Then an engine gunned. Two other trucks zipped around the building, lights bright, pointed toward the trees. Laurel’s phone buzzed from the floor and she dropped back down, noting it was Huck calling. She pressed the speaker. “We’re fine. Nobody hit.”
“Good. Stay covered.” He clicked off.
Laurel levered up to see Huck leap out of one truck, his gun out. Then he pulled Aeneas out of the back. Agent Norrs barreled out of the other truck, and they both headed into the forest toward the mountain, their flashlights bobbing in the rain.
“Laurel?” Nester called out. “Report?”
Laurel watched the moving flashlights. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, and her vision wavered as the adrenaline started to ebb in her body. Her hands began to shake. “Captain Rivers and Agent Norrs are in the woods, but I heard a truck engine before they arrived. I think we’re secure.”
“Huck and Wayne?” Abigail called out with a small chuckle. “How sweet. Our big, bad men are protecting us, Laurel. Don’t you just love it?”
Walter, back to the wall on the other side of the window with rain and wind blowing in, looked at her, his eyes narrowed and his chest heaving. “That chick is batshit crazy, boss,” he whispered.