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  Matthew fingered the letter in his breast pocket. Jordan wanted his version of the story leading up to Cassidy’s death. He wanted every detail. Every person she’d come into contact with. Anything he could remember—no matter how insignificant.

  How did he put that into a letter every guard in this prison would read?

  No way. Instead, he’d sent a reply that wasn’t worth the paper he’d written it on.

  In the end, it really didn’t matter. Cassidy would still be dead. Just out of his reach. And he’d have to relive her death all over, proving that the past never died.

  Like you have been for the past week and a half.

  He could ignore it or do something. He’d always been a man to do the latter.

  Danny’s quiet voice broke into his thoughts. “If you plan it right, that is. Each piece is there for a reason.” He stared down at the chessboard. His hand hovered above a bishop and a knight. “It’s picking the right strategy. And having a backup plan.” Danny’s eyes caught his and held. “You do it right and you’re home free.” He moved his piece so it cornered Matthew’s king.

  Matthew rubbed his chin. “Check Mate. I’m not on my game today.”

  “It always helps if you can catch them off guard.” Danny’s eyes glittered.

  How many times had the other man tried to hatch a plan to get them out of here? How many times had the man used Shawshank Redemption as a guide? “I’ve got a girl on the outside waiting for me,” he’d say. Matthew didn’t have anybody. The risk had never been worth it. Things were different now.

  Could he do it? Could he break free?

  Danny watched him, a glint in his eyes. “Make you’re move, Blaney. Make it good.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “If it isn’t Jordan Bening and his shadow.”

  Kara Kimmel’s words hit Jordan and McKenna once they located her inside the newsroom of Channel Six. Kara’s voice—a mixture of genteel southern charm and prolonged northern vowels blended in such a way that made it unique and easily recognizable.

  And, yet, Jordan mused, McKenna hadn’t been able to place it earlier today. That voice was great for the newscast. Right now, the sound and words put together made him want to turn around and walk out of the building.

  “Looks like someone got the best of you, Jordan.” Kara glanced from his nose to McKenna and back. He thought about setting her straight, but McKenna didn’t seem rattled. In fact, she had a glint in her eyes as if she were waiting for this kind of challenge.

  Heaven help Kara.

  Exhaustion was creeping up on him a little faster than he cared to admit. As a result, his patience was pretty much nonexistent. He wanted to be at home, putting this day and its events to rest.

  Kara gave a thumbs up to a balding camera guy as he passed her. “Great cast,” he said.

  “Thanks, Ron.” She sipped from the water bottle in her hands, then smoothed her perfectly manicured hand down her tightly tailored suit. Her nails matched both her suit and her shoes, a medium taupe color he never would have recognized if he hadn’t seen McKenna’s bridesmaid dress earlier in the evening.

  “Baker Jackson told me you were back in town.”

  McKenna mouthed Baker Jackson?

  “Robinson.”

  “You boys and you’re military games. You guys go around shouting out last names like they’re your only identifying factors.” Kara rolled her eyes in the valley-girl fashion she’d perfected a long time ago. “I had hoped to run into you. Maybe have a few drinks and catch up. What do you say?”

  No freaking way. “We’re actually here on official business.”

  A pout covered her face. “Oh, come on. Business can wait, can’t it?”

  He found himself affecting that same southern tone. “’Fraid not.”

  McKenna shot him a look, then rolled her eyes.

  “Maybe you’ve come to give me a private press conference on the Gaidies situation?” She didn’t glance in McKenna’s direction. “I know all of Charlotte is waiting, with bated breath, for details. I’d love to give them the story.”

  “You’ve got all the details the public needs.”

  “Come on.” She moved closer to him and grabbed his upper arm, her breasts pressing into it. “This could make my career.”

  Jordan resisted the urge to rip his arm from her grasp.

  “Is there somewhere private we can talk?” McKenna folded her arms across her chest. “Unless you’d rather we ask some potentially private questions in front of your co-workers.”

  And that was the McKenna he knew. Miss tough-as-nails had returned. He tried to contain a pride-filled smile.

  Kara released him and glanced between the two of them, her humor gone. “Of course.” She led the way.

  He sidled up to McKenna, then whispered, “Score, Moore, one, Kara, zero.”

  “You dated her.”

  “I was waiting for you to notice me.” He was only half kidding.

  “Oh, I noticed you, all right. Noticed the pawing and fawning. It looked rough, Jordan, really rough.”

  “I was a victim of circumstance.”

  A strangled cough stuck in her throat. “Seriously? That’s the best you can come up with?”

  “Did I mention I’m a jerk?”

  A smile lit up her whole face. “Once or twice.”

  “Maybe now you’ll believe me.”

  “Not a chance.”

  Kara led them down the hall and into a small office located not far from the stage. “Have a seat.” She pointed to two chairs in front of a desk that held a picture of Diane Sawyer and Dan Rather. She shut the door and made her way to the chair on the other side of the desk. The screen saver, on the computer behind her, bounced from one corner to the other.

  Both he and McKenna opted to stand.

  “How well do you know Vincent Ciamitaro?” Jordan asked.

  Not one feature Kara’s face changed. “We’re friends.”

  “How long have you been seeing each other?”

  “We’ve been friends for a couple of years.”

  “Were you aware of his relationship with Emily Gaidies?”

  Kara swallowed, audibly, then shook her head. She was either a very good actress or she really hadn’t know the guy she was screwing around with, was doing the same thing to her. Karma.

  “Meaning, they were lovers a few months back.” McKenna sat. “Where were you between five and ten pm today?”

  “Why is that any of your business?” Gone was the flirt, in her place stood a scared girl putting on a brave show.

  “How about last Tuesday? Between nine and ten pm?”

  “Why are you wasting your time asking these questions?” She looked between him and McKenna. “What right do you have to come in here and harass me?”

  “Might want to look up ‘harass’ in the dictionary. This doesn’t come anywhere close.” Jordan said.

  “Nothing ever changes with you two, does it? One for all and all for one?” Kara stood, like a perp with no way out, ready to attack. “It’s sickening. If she were riding a wagon headed straight for hell, you’d jump on.”

  “I guess that makes me her shadow, then, doesn’t it?”

  Kara didn’t respond. Maybe she realized how hollow and petty her words sounded.

  “This isn’t personal.” McKenna didn’t move, just watched Kara fidget with a pen she’d picked up from her desk. “Just answer the questions. Don’t force us to get a subpoena and air your dirty laundry all over Charlotte.”

  “That’s not even legal.”

  “Asking your neighbors and friends questions about you is.” Jordan braced himself on the back of McKenna’s chair. “It’d be a lot easier if you just spoke up.”

  Kara sat back down, a look of defeat washing over her face. “I think I want to call my lawyer.”

  Dreaded words.

  “By all means, call one. We’ll wait.” McKenna tapped her fingers on the desk, her eyes never leaving Kara.

  Forty minutes l
ater, one of Charlotte’s most prestigious lawyers waltzed in as if he’d been in Kara’s office a dozen times. The lawyer had to have outrageous fees for this type of visit.

  From the hall outside Kara’s office, Jordan and McKenna watched Zander Singleton speaking with the reporter. Five minutes later they were back in her office as if they’d never left. Except, Kara had some steel back in her gaze. The source of her new bravado came courtesy of the tall man decked out in Armani with a shiny Rolex on his wrist, standing behind her.

  “Hello, Zander.” McKenna shook his hand. “Have you met my partner, Agent Bening?”

  “A pleasure.”

  Jordan shook his outstretched hand. He hated the term ‘lawyering up.’

  “Can we proceed?” McKenna asked.

  Zander nodded.

  “Again, I’m going to ask, where were you today between five and ten p.m.?”

  Kara gave little thought to her answer. “I was with Vincent earlier today. I left his house around nine-forty-five. I came straight here for the nightly news.”

  “And last Tuesday?”

  She made direct eye contact with McKenna then. “The same.”

  Jordan didn’t know what he’d been hoping for, but his job had gotten a lot more complicated, in both a professional and personal manner.

  Kara didn’t offer any explanations or barter with excuses for her behavior. “Are we done?”

  “For now, yeah. I’m sure you know how this works. Don’t leave town.” He and McKenna exited the station in silence. He had his phone ready and Robinson’s number dialed. All he had to do was hit send. He’d have to report eventually.

  Sometimes he hated this job.

  ###

  It was pouring down rain.

  Again. Spring was hit or miss in Charlotte, all of North Carolina, really. Either a light drizzle hassled the population for days on end or it poured, like tonight, large unrelenting globs of water creating havoc on anyone who dared venture outside. One of the hazards of living on the east coast. The skies opening up at a moment’s notice.

  The light coat Amanda had chosen earlier that morning didn’t stand a chance against this rain. She kept her head down as she jogged from her car to Robinson’s SUV parked on the top floor of the parking ramp at Mercy hospital.

  The lights were off and the windows too dark to see inside. If she hadn’t known better, she would have assumed the vehicle was empty. Amanda opened the door, jumped inside and began shedding her wet jacket.

  “About time you showed up.” Robinson never took his eyes from the half-empty lot. “Did you bring a pair of scrubs and the colored contacts?”

  “Check. Wearing both.”

  “The wire?”

  “Got it. I have done this before. Roden’s story checked out by the way. I passed the info on to Moore.”

  “Look at you, cooperating with another government agency.”

  “The government agency is not the problem. You are. You’re bossy and you like to take control of every situation and leave me hanging. Like now. Want to give me the four-one-one?”

  “Eric know how much time we spend together?”

  Amanda started to laugh, then sobered once she realized that he’d used her boyfriend’s name instead of some derogative. “You’re serious?”

  Robinson didn’t say anything, just continued to stare at the stairs and elevator connecting the ramp to the hospital. Okay, weird.

  “I try to be as honest as I can. I mean, this job, our job requires a certain level of secrecy at times.”

  “So, he knows you’re here, right now?”

  “Why all the questions?”

  He looked at her then. Something in his gaze seemed off. “Just answer.”

  “He doesn’t know I’m here.” She gestured toward the brick building. “He knows I’m with you and that I’m working.”

  “Trusting guy.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Robinson reached over her and opened the glove box. The heat radiating off him contrasted with how cold the vehicle suddenly seemed. He pulled out a pocket-sized package of Kleenex and set them on her lap. “You’re dripping all over my leather seats.”

  “Thanks. I think.” She tore into the package and used one on her face. It didn’t help much. “What are we doing, Robbie?”

  “In general or here?” Not even a hint of a smile.

  “Um, here.”

  “Right now, we’re waiting.”

  “What’s with all the cloak and dagger action?”

  “What’s with the twenty questions?”

  Easygoing Robinson had not come along for the ride tonight. After two years, she only knew that one side of him, which shouldn’t have mattered one iota. “You kick Kara to the curb or something?”

  “All of the above.”

  Whoa.

  “I know you’re ridiculously happy, but no girl talk. Not tonight. It is, what it is.”

  The questions made sense. He’d been comparing her to Kara. That stung a little. “Where’s she going to get her media highlights on my case, now?”

  “Your case?”

  “That’s what I said.” She tried to glance at her watch, but the vehicle was too dark to see its face. “Visiting hours are long over.”

  He scoffed. “Like visiting hours matter when it comes to questioning suspects.”

  “Some of those nurses can get vicious when it comes to the wellbeing of their patients.”

  Robinson flashed a plastic badge. “I’ve got friends in high places.”

  “Does it work?” She grabbed it from his hand. “Because I’d rather not have to call my boss to bail me out of jail. Captain Dentzen’s already on my case as it is.”

  “You get any details about Matthew Blaney?”

  “Why not ask Moore?”

  “She was just a kid at that time. I want Dentzen’s take on it. He worked with Blaney and mentored him. He’s got to have opinions, maybe his own theory.”

  “Dentzen told me to figure out which game I wanted my head in or to get out.” Not in quite so many words.

  “If the evidence fits, don’t disprove it?”

  “That’s what we do. We gather evidence and link it to the perps. That evidence puts people behind bars. If the cookie is missing and the crumbs lead back to you.” She didn’t finish. “If you’ve lived by that you’re whole career, changing it, even for someone you consider a son, would be hard.”

  “You think Dentzen believes Blaney did it.” Robinson’s voice was quiet. “You think he did it.”

  “I would love to prove otherwise, but the facts don’t lie.”

  “And yet, here you are.”

  She didn’t have a response to that. “Look, the gun was his, several key witnesses agreed that they had their share of problems. They didn’t get along, hadn’t been able to since the death of their infant daughter. She filed a formal complaint against him two weeks prior to her death.”

  “Nobody ever followed up on it.”

  “She was pregnant with another guy’s kid. Blaney couldn’t handle that. And since when did this project become about proving his innocence?”

  He glared at her. “Isn’t that also a part of the job?”

  Check. Mate. “This isn’t a job. I’m here as a favor to Jordan and McKenna.”

  “Not as a favor to me?” He clenched the steering wheel, then went on as if he hadn’t said anything. “They’re going to exhume Cassidy Bening’s remains tomorrow.”

  That stopped her short. “You talked Jordan into it?”

  “Didn’t have to. Plus, I got Lawyer Boy's approval.” He patted his jacket breast pocket.

  Wow. Eric hadn't told her that. “McKenna know?”

  Robinson shook his head. “I don’t think Jordan plans to tell her.”

  McKenna would blow a gasket if she discovered how far out of the loop she was.

  “I think it goes without saying that this conversation never happened.”

  Guilt might have taken a moment longer to set in
if she hadn’t thought about the positions being reversed. McKenna would never keep something like this from her. In that moment, she really didn’t like Robinson. Or Jordan. She didn’t like the secrets—something she worked with on a daily basis. She didn’t like herself very much either.

  “So, what are we looking for here? You want me to question Birmingham about the weather?”

  “Stow the sarcasm.”

  “This is backwards. Any sane judge would throw out evidence under these circumstances.”

  “You think Birmingham’s actually going to fess up to a complete stranger? Come on, Nettles, he’s smarter than that. The guy’s got a damn PhD that he doesn’t even use.”

  “Smarter people have confessed with less of a reason. For all he knows, he might die tomorrow. That can get to a person.”

  Robinson shook his head. “You honestly believe all that?”

  “If there wasn’t a possibility, I wouldn’t be here. There’d be no point.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “Facts are, facts.” She slipped the clear ear piece into her left ear.

  “Just get him talking about the past. Try to work the vase into it. See what you get.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” It infuriated her, how he could sit there and be so unemotional about the whole thing. Staying calm in the face of chaos was one thing, keeping the truth from people who needed it, another.

  What irked her more than anything was that she respected Robinson for it. He made some of the best snap decisions in their field. If he wanted to work an angle in the most unconventional manner, he had good reason.

  That’s why she answered his phone calls at midnight, in the middle of a date with Eric, during dinner with her parents. Because what would happen if she didn’t? Who would suffer because she wasn’t willing to put in some overtime?

  She wouldn’t be sitting in his oversized SUV, wishing she could figure him out, while he discovered the next mission she couldn’t say no to. She wanted to tell him where to stick his projects, but this was one she didn’t trust anybody else with.

  “I know you don’t understand…about Moore.”

  She opened the door, but turned back before she shut it. “I get it. That’s what bothers me.”

  He looked at her as if she’d announced that monkeys could fly.