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The Fix, Page 35

David Baldacci


  McLean.

  They were in southeast D.C., where eight of the run-down row houses would still not have equaled the square footage of the Dabneys’ mansion.

  The police were there and the house in question was strung off with yellow tape stretching and pitching in the wind.

  “How’d you find out so fast?” asked Decker as he, Brown, and Jamison stared over at the front entrance. Gawkers were out and looking around curiously at all the police activity.

  Brown said, “I’ve got a contact at the metro police. She knew about my interest in the Dabneys. When the call came in and they found out where she worked, my contact called me. I phoned Bogart. He should be here shortly.”

  A gurney was wheeled out of the front of the house with a body in a black body bag.

  “What do they know so far?” asked Jamison. “How was she killed?”

  “Metro is keeping a tight lid on this, and they will until the Bureau shows up. DIA doesn’t carry as much weight with the locals as the FBI.”

  “Well, here they come,” noted Decker as Bogart’s car pulled up and he and Milligan jumped out and hustled over to them.

  Brown explained things in a few sentences and Bogart and Milligan headed over to the officer in charge. They watched as the FBI agents flashed their badges and made their pitch. The body language of the officer changed immediately. He pulled a notebook from his pocket and he started talking.

  Five minutes later Bogart and Milligan returned to them.

  “Okay, small-caliber gunshot to the back of the head,” said Bogart. “Looks like a professional hit. She’s been dead about six hours, which puts her death at about two in the morning. So far they’ve found no one who saw or heard anything.”

  “Forced entry?” asked Decker.

  “They’re still checking. Nothing so far indicates that, but it’s not been confirmed.”

  “Would she have let the person in?” asked Brown.

  “If her death occurred shortly after the person came, who would she let into her house at two a.m.?”

  “Someone she knew really well,” said Decker.

  “This may not even be connected to our case,” said Milligan, looking around. “This is not exactly a safe area.”

  “If it was a break and enter they would have taken things,” said Decker. “Anything missing?”

  “Nothing obvious, but they’re still looking. She might have had enemies. Or the person might have gone to the wrong house.”

  “Or she was killed because she knew something about our case,” said Decker.

  “But what could she know?” asked Jamison.

  Brown said, “She worked at the Dabneys’. Saw them every day. She might have overheard something. Seen something.”

  “But why kill her now?” asked Decker. “We’ve been investigating this case for a while now and nothing happened to the woman. Why now?”

  “Meaning something changed?” said Bogart.

  “The probabilities lie there, yeah,” said Decker. “Do the Dabneys know about this?”

  “I doubt it,” said Bogart.

  “We’ll need to tell them. And confirm they all have alibis.”

  “You think one of the daughters or their mom came over here in the middle of the night and blew out their housekeeper’s brains?” said Milligan dubiously.

  “I know that one of the daughters got her father implicated in an espionage scheme that ended with his murdering someone who was spying on this country and then killing himself. So I would say nothing is out of the realm of possibility with that family.”

  Milligan didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t look so dubious anymore either.

  Bogart said, “Todd and I will stay here and learn what we can. Why don’t you all head over there now and do the interview.”

  “Works for me,” said Decker. “But you think I can poke my head into her house for just a minute?” He followed Milligan and Bogart back over to a pair of homicide detectives who had just appeared in the doorway of the murdered woman’s home.

  That left Brown and Jamison alone.

  The latter looked at the former.

  “About our earlier discussion,” began Jamison.

  Brown looked at her. “You were right about some things and wrong about others. I’ll let you figure out which is which.”

  And that’s all she would say.

  * * *

  “Cissy’s dead?”

  Ellie looked at the three of them sitting across from her in the library as though they were aliens just landed on earth.

  Decker said, “She was murdered. Shot in the head. Looks to be a professional hit. Do you have any information that could help us on that?”

  “I can barely process what you’re telling me,” said Ellie, who looked nearly paralyzed. “I… thought she was here. I just assumed she had come to work, like she always did.”

  Jules, Amanda, and Samantha were standing beside their mother, still clad in their robes. All of the daughters looked visibly upset. Samantha was quietly crying. Amanda was leaning her head against Jules’s shoulder. Only Jules seemed in control of herself. She stared resolutely at Decker.

  “Are we in danger?” she said.

  Decker looked at her. “It’s possible. We can have an agent posted outside the house.”

  “Let me ask you another question,” said Jules. “Where is Natalie?”

  “She’s in France,” said her mother. “She left yesterday.”

  Jules kept her gaze on Decker. “She’s not in France. Corbett texted me last night. She never got on the plane. She called him and said there was a change of plan.”

  “What change of plan?” exclaimed Ellie. “What is going on? Where is your sister?”

  Jules said, “That’s what I’m asking them. Because Natalie also told Corbett that she had run into some ‘legal trouble’ when leaving the country.”

  Brown spoke up. “I’m with DIA, Defense Intelligence. We were investigating your husband for possible espionage, which turned out to be the case.”

  “But he was helping out Natalie’s stupid husband,” said Jules.

  “No, unknown to your father, he was helping out Natalie. She had the gambling problem, not Corbett. She got your dad involved to solve her debt problem.”

  “That’s crap,” snapped Jules. “What proof do you have?”

  “We have definitive video proof plus your sister’s confession. She’s already done a deal in exchange for leniency.”

  Ellie nearly collapsed off her chair. Jules caught her and shouted, “What the hell do you think you’re doing telling her stuff like this with no warning?”

  “I was just answering your question,” replied Brown. “But you need to know that the police will be coming here to interview you about Cecilia Randall’s death. They’ll want to know if you know anything about it.”

  “What could we possibly know?” demanded Jules.

  “They’ll also want to know if you have alibis for when she was killed.”

  “You can’t possibly think that we had anything to do with Cissy’s death,” said Ellie. “She…she was part of our family. She helped raise the girls, for God’s sake.”

  “The police will still ask for alibis,” said Decker. “It’s standard procedure.”

  “When was she killed?” asked Jules.

  “Early this morning. Say around two or so.”

  “Well, we were all here asleep,” said Jules.

  “And each of you can verify that the others were here?” said Brown.

  Ellie said, “I went to bed around eleven. I heard Jules and Samantha come upstairs around midnight. I was reading and heard them talking.”

  “And I opened the door and said good night to Mom,” said Jules.

  “And I did too,” said Samantha. “And Jules and I are sharing a room. We have our own bedrooms, but…I didn’t want to be alone. I went to bed around one, but I went back downstairs for my glasses and I checked on Mom. She was sound asleep. And so was Jules when I got
back to the room.”

  “Okay, that accounts for you three,” said Brown, turning to Amanda. “And you?”

  Amanda abruptly sat down. “I…I went up to bed before anyone else. I wasn’t feeling well. I went to sleep and just woke up about an hour ago.”

  “So you didn’t talk to or see anyone else?” Brown looked at the others. “Did any of you check on your sister last night?”

  “Oh come on,” barked Jules. “Look at her. She’s only got one arm. Do you really think she’s capable of shooting a gun? And she’s seen Cissy, what, maybe a handful of times over the last ten years. Why in the hell would she kill her? Why would any of us, for that matter?”

  “We’re not saying that you did. We’re actually doing you a favor, because when the police come and ask, you’ll have ready answers.”

  Jules seemed taken aback by this and sat next to Amanda and put an arm protectively around her.

  Ellie said, “Where is Natalie?”

  “She’s with the FBI right now.”

  “Is she…is she going to prison?”

  “I have no way of knowing those details,” said Brown. “I can tell you that the possible charges against her are very serious. I would not be surprised if she didn’t spend some time in prison.”

  “Oh my God!” gushed Samantha.

  Amanda burst into tears. “What the hell is going on? Our whole family is disintegrating right in front of us.”

  Jules stared over at Brown. “We didn’t kill Cissy. We didn’t know anything about what Nat may or may not have done. I still don’t understand why Daddy killed himself. I…I…” She pulled away from Amanda and put her head in her hands.

  In a trembling voice, Ellie said, “Would you mind if we were just left alone for a while? We just need to be…to be together as a family for just a little while.”

  Decker, Brown, and Jamison stood. Decker said, “We’re going to figure this out, Mrs. Dabney. One way or another.”

  “But that won’t bring back Walt, or Cissy. Or change what will happen to Natalie.”

  “No ma’am, it won’t.”

  They filed out, leaving the crushed Dabney family in the library.

  Outside, Brown turned to Decker.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think something is off, but I don’t know what it is.”

  CHAPTER

  58

  “YOU WANT TO EXPLAIN what you meant?”

  Decker had climbed out of Brown’s car and headed into the WFO. Jamison had stayed seated. When Decker looked back at her, she waved him on. He glanced at Brown and then walked to the entrance and disappeared inside.

  Brown eyed Jamison in the rearview. “I thought I was pretty clear.”

  “Clear as mud. Right and wrong. You didn’t say what about.”

  “You want to do this now?”

  “We can keep putting it off and the resentment will continue to build and maybe we get to a point where nothing the other says will matter.”

  Brown put the car in park, undid her seat belt, and turned to look at Jamison.

  “You were right that I screwed up. But you were wrong that I don’t care. I care what Decker thinks about me. And I care about Melvin, even though I haven’t known him very long. I got a good vibe from him right away. We talked. A lot. He thinks the world of you and Decker. I would never hurt Melvin, and I know he would never hurt me. He’s not that kind of a guy. Believe me, I know the kind that would. I’ve dated them.”

  “I have too,” conceded Jamison. “Look, I was pretty rough on you, and that wasn’t fair.”

  “I’m used to things not being fair. My father was a good guy and a great soldier. He did wonderful things at DIA. But he wanted a son, not a daughter. But I was all he had. He didn’t discourage me from joining the ranks, but it wasn’t like he encouraged me either. Maybe he didn’t care one way or another. But it still felt like someone had stuck a shiv between my ribs when I told him I’d joined DIA and all he could say was, ‘Are you sure you want to do that, because isn’t it time you settle down and start a family?’ I’d busted my ass to serve at the same agency he had. And that’s all he could say?”

  “I bet that hurt like hell.”

  Brown shrugged. “Things are better gender-wise, sure, but they’re far from perfect. Most guys I meet, when they find out what I do, they’re either scared off or they try to prove they’re more of a badass than I am. So that means I don’t have many second dates. And at work, it’s mostly guys wondering why I’m there taking a slot that a man should have.”

  “Same with me,” said Jamison. “I’m surrounded by guys all day. And then there’s Decker.”

  “He’s a guy.”

  “But he’s not really a guy. He’s…well, he’s Decker.”

  Brown smiled and then laughed. “Somehow, I know exactly what you mean. And Melvin is different too. He’s special, Alex. He wasn’t intimidated by me at all. He…well, he’s secure enough in his own skin to not be jealous of what I do.”

  “I agree with you that Melvin is very special. And he deserves someone special. And maybe that someone is you.”

  Brown looked taken aback by this but said, “Thanks. That means a lot.”

  “Are we good?” asked Jamison.

  “I think we’re as good as we’re ever going to be.” She paused. “I heard what happened. That you saved Decker’s life.”

  Jamison glanced down at her waist, where she carried her gun.

  Brown said, “It’s not easy, Alex. And it never gets any easier.”

  “It’s changed me, Harper. I’m never going to be the same. I killed someone.”

  “You didn’t change. Just a little part of you did. There’s a big difference.”

  “But you can move forward, at some point?”

  “You will move forward, Alex. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, because it won’t. But it will happen.”

  Jamison gave her an appreciative smile, climbed out of the car, and walked into the WFO. Decker was waiting for her just inside the doors. He scrutinized her face. “No bruises, good. Any wounds I can’t see?”

  “We actually got along very well. I have a whole different opinion of Agent Brown now.”

  “Well, that’s good to know.”

  “And you came up again.”

  “How so?”

  “We were just appreciating the fact that you were sort of one of the girls.”

  Decker eyed her quizzically for a moment. “I think I’m just going to let that one pass.”

  They cleared security and rode the elevator up to their floor. Decker had phoned ahead and Bogart met them as they were walking down the hall.

  “Got something,” he said. He led them into a room off the main hall. Milligan was already there seated at a computer.