Drake (Men of Versteck Valley Book 3) Page 18

  “That’s because he’s looking at Francesca.” Drake displayed another photo.

  Davina stood next to Oliver looking straight ahead. Francesca and the Senator were a short distance away, hugging with their faces close. Oliver was looking at them instead of following Davina’s gaze even though she pointed at something.

  “You don’t think he had a thing for Francesca, do you?” Faith hoped not. This mess was crazy enough.

  “Just saying he’s watching them instead of his date. How long has it been since he and Davina broke up?” Drake asked.

  Faith looked through her notes. “Almost 18 months. He moved to Seattle, the opposite side of the country,” she said slowly. “That’s extreme.”

  “It’d be interesting to talk to him as well,” Drake said typing into his phone. “He might know who might have a reason to go after Francesca.”

  Faith continued looking through photos and reports hoping something would shine a light on who attacked Francesca. When her sorority sister woke, Faith wanted to provide answers.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Drake and Faith shut down the monitor to go and grab something to eat. Franco had surprised them with his ability to cook decent meals. Yesterday and today, he had taken over the kitchen, and the house smelled wonderful. Her stomach growled in anticipation.

  “Can you cook?” Faith asked as they locked the office behind them.

  “No. My skills lie in other areas.” He winked at her.

  Her core throbbed in remembrance of his skillful tongue and fingers. The man was indeed gifted, and she appreciated being the sole recipient. For the time being, she mentally corrected as she glanced at him over her shoulder.

  “Gunslinger for hire?” She looked at his cowboy boots. Before this job was done, and he left, she planned to have him wear nothing but his boots while they had sex. Maybe he would take a picture wearing nothing but his boots with his hat covering his private parts. That way whenever she got out of bed with another subpar lover, she could look at his picture and remember what real, hardcore, make a woman scream sex was.

  “Well yes, Ma’am. You got it right on the first guess.” He winked at her as he cupped her butt from behind.

  She squealed and walked faster.

  He followed at a slower pace. Just as they reached the kitchen, Paul entered holding his phone. “The alarm at the office just went off. Police are on the way.”

  Faith stared at Paul as if he had just spoken a foreign language. “What?”

  “The alarm went off. It’s not one of the doors, and I don’t see anyone inside on the cameras. Our people are there on the scene. Hold on.” He stared at his phone in silence for several moments. “Someone threw a brick through the window. They have a photo of him on camera. He’s running from the building. They’re chasing him, and he’s down. They’re taking him back to the office,” Paul said, grabbing his keys.

  Faith was behind him, and Drake behind her. “I’m starving, don’t burn dinner. It smells sooooo good,” she said over her shoulder to Franco who would remain behind with two others, while four members of their team hopped in a car to follow them.

  “Can you pull up the office cameras?” she asked Drake as the cars pulled onto the road.

  “In a second. I’m sending a message to Asher. This may be related to Francesca. He doesn’t want to move her yet but if there’s a lot of pressure to find her, he will.”

  “Alright.” She moved closer to the door and looked out the window. “Someone came into the building, took the elevator up to the second floor, and threw a brick through the glass pane in the front of the office. Why? Did they want to get inside? It wasn’t random, they had to pass two other offices on both sides to get to my office. Why?” she murmured trying to figure it out.

  “Here are the cameras. What’s Zelda doing there?” Drake asked.

  Considering it was after eight in the evening, that was a good question. “Did security mention her coming to the office?” Faith asked.

  “Not to me. Asher handles the office. I’ve got the house,” he said.

  “Was she hurt? Is that why she’s sitting there looking…sad? Did she get hit from the glass or brick?” Faith asked, her voice rising.

  “We’re almost there, you can ask her in a little bit. Calm down.” He took her hand in his and held it gently. “We’ll get this sorted out.”

  By the time Faith and Drake were allowed upstairs, the police had Zelda in the conference room crying softly, and the intruder was in the back of the police car.

  The police officer introduced himself as Detective Bronson. Similar in height to Drake, and if his belly was any indication, he had an apparent affection for sweets, short dark hair and soft brown eyes. He wouldn’t stand out in a crowd unless you were looking for him, Faith thought. After Bronson asked them for identification and a few questions, he waved Faith toward the copy area.

  “The older woman was making copies of files.” He pointed to a folder in a small, black, metal bin that they used when they pulled a lot of files. “She heard the brick go through the glass, jumped, slipped and fell. She refuses medical care and is afraid what you’ll do when you discover what she’s been doing.” His brow rose with a question in his gaze as he stared down at her.

  “I fired her. This was her last week.” Faith stared at the files and tried to wrap her mind around the fact Zelda had been stealing from her. Worst, she had accessed privileged information. “How’d she get these files? I keep them locked, and I’m the only person with a key.” She looked at Audrey’s files and shook her head. “These are kept in my office. No one looks at these.” Faith stared at the detective as if he had answers.

  “You can ask her. Will you be filing charges?” he said.

  She looked at Audrey’s information, and a feeling of dread ran down her back. “What if she’s copied the others?”

  Drake rubbed her neck. “We’ll find out in a few moments what’s going on.”

  The detective watched Drake type into his phone. “You work here?”

  “As a consultant yes.” Drake extended his hand.

  The detective shook it and pointed at Drake’s pistol. “You’ve got a license for that?”

  “Yes,” Drake said and showed the detective his permit.

  “Ready?” the Detective asked Faith who had been looking inside the folder that had been in the bin.

  “Definitely,” Faith said as she marched around the corner, and opened the door so hard it bounced off the wall.

  Zelda cringed. Her eyes darted all over the room, landing everywhere except on Faith.

  “Cut the crap and tell me who you sold me out to,” Faith yelled.

  Zelda jumped and pressed her lips tight together.

  “Oh, so you aren’t going to tell me?” Faith said crossing her arms over her chest and staring down at the woman. Her fingers itched to snatch that bun from Zelda’s head and slam her against the table repeatedly. After all the chances she gave the woman, hired her when no one else did, purchased her medication when she was sick, even sat next to the ungrateful witch’s bed, and this is how she says thank you? On fire, Faith walked in a tight circle while staring across the table at her former Administrator.

  Zelda refused to look at Faith or answer her.

  “I cannot believe you stole from me, copied private, personal information…” Faith placed her fingertips to the middle of her forehead, inhaled and released it slowly. “Say I’m so happy the police is here.” Faith peered at Zelda. Shaking from the force of her anger and hurt, she pointed her finger at the older woman. “I’m talking to you. Tell Detective Bronson how happy you are that he’s here to stop me from leaping over this table and mopping this floor with you.”

  Zelda looked down at her hands but didn’t speak.

  “I’m pressing criminal charges for breaking and entering, robbery, espionage, and conspiracy.” Faith looked at the detective. “In order for her to be in this office after hours, she had to bypass my security system, her ke
y alone wouldn’t have worked. Not to mention she broke into my office and files which she never had a key. Breaking and entering.”

  He nodded.

  Zelda covered her face and started crying.

  “Ma’am, I’m sure you had a good reason for doing what you did, but Ms. Gardner’s correct. You high-jacked her security system to enter the premises illegally, her office, accessed confidential files and assisted in vandalism.” He took out his cuffs and held them in front of Zelda.

  She cried harder.

  “Why did you do it?” Detective Bronson asked in a calm voice.

  Zelda hiccupped and looked up at him as if he were the Messiah taking her confession.

  “Mr. Claude wanted to know what Audrey planned to do, that’s all. Audrey kept threatening to break things off with…her lover but never did. He thinks she has someone else or is lining up someone else to take his place. He just wanted to know what Audrey told her, that’s all.”

  “If that was all why did he need copies of the files?” Faith asked not believing her for one moment.

  Zelda didn’t look in Faith’s direction nor answered her. Instead, she kept her gaze locked on Bronson, perhaps in gratitude for his presence after all.

  “How many times have you done this?” the Detective asked.

  “This is the first time and only because…I needed the money. She fired me. I don’t have money, or anything saved up. What he would pay me for this would set me up for a while,” Zelda said looking up at the Detective as if he were the only person in the room.

  “How did you get in her office? Her files?” he continued.

  Zelda’s face reddened. “I had a copy made,” she said in a small voice. “A few months ago, one day she asked me to go and get her a cappuccino from the coffee shop down the block. She stepped into Lacey’s area, one of the paralegals. Her keys were on her desk, I took them, made a copy and brought it back before she realized it. At the time I don’t know why I did it, I just did.”

  “The file keys?” he pressed.

  “I got lucky, an old key worked,” Zelda said looking down at her hands.

  Zelda Spaugh, I’m arresting you for breaking and entering, theft, and any other charges that may become known during the course of this investigation. You have the right to remain silent,” he continued Mirandizing her.

  A patrol officer stepped into the room, cuffed Zelda and walked her toward the door. Faith waited to see if there was any remorse, any shame or embarrassment in Zelda’s gaze for what she had done. So far, it seemed the only thing that bothered the older woman was she had gotten caught. But Zelda never looked up, never looked in Faith’s direction.

  “Well, at least you won’t have to worry about having money to live out your retirement. Your meals and bed will be provided to you by Uncle Sam,” Faith said glaring at the woman.

  Zelda’s face blanched as she was escorted out.

  Faith stared in disbelief at the empty door for a few moments and shook her head.

  “I’ll need you to come to the station with me to identify the gentlemen your security team saw running from the scene of the crime. Do you know Harold Sessions?”

  Faith closed her eyes for a few moments and counted to 10. Seriously? Harold broke the glass? She hadn’t seen that coming. “He’s harassing one of my clients in Atlanta. Are you saying he flew, drove, took a bus or train all the way out here to throw a block in my office?”

  “That’s a good question. One I’ll be sure to ask him,” the detective said.

  “Harold is the son of the man Zelda says asked her to make copies of Audrey’s file. I don’t believe he would ask her to do that. She probably felt she could sell the information to him or something.” Faith thought of the problems Claude was having with his son and shook her head. Claude knew why Audrey was breaking up with him, Zelda didn’t. He wouldn’t pay Zelda for old information.

  “You think she lied?” the detective asked.

  “Yes. You will too when you learn who he is,” Faith said confidently.

  Bronson met her gaze a few moments and nodded. “Alright.” He pointed to the broken glass in the front of her office. “You can have someone secure the hole in the window.” He waved and looked at the men moving quietly around the area. “Are you having some kind of problem or something? There’s a lot of security personnel here.”

  Faith’s mouth curled in a half-smile. “Or something. Give me a moment to check my office. Zelda said this was her first time, but I don’t believe her. Is her purse here?” Faith looked around.

  “Here it is,” the Detective held up the oversized leather bag.

  “Bring it in my office. You can check it while I look at my files. She shouldn’t have been able to break into that cabinet,” Faith said moving at a brisk pace.

  Inside the office, the wooden file cabinets appeared untouched. Faith walked to the first one, looked at the lock and called the Detective over. “Is it alright if I touch this?”

  He pulled on a pair of latex gloves and pulled open the file. The lock was intact.

  “She stole the key to the filing cabinet too?” Faith asked looking around.

  Detective Bronson dumped Zelda’s handbag on the desk. Three large key rings filled with keys fell out.

  “Master keys,” Drake said.

  “Seems like it. But why lie about it?” Faith asked, confused.

  “Because she thinks she’s going to be in more trouble for having those keys than breaking in here,” Drake said. “She may have stolen them, or someone allowed her to borrow them.”

  Detective Bronson stared at the keys for a moment. “I think these keys may be the answer to a few open cases.” He bagged and tagged them while Faith went through her files. None of the others were missing, but that didn’t mean copies hadn’t been made. She replaced Audrey’s file in the cabinet, locked it and followed Drake and the Detective out of the office.

  <<<<>>>>

  Faith had been to the precinct a few times before. Usually to help one of her sorors or their kids. Drake had been told to wait out front, something she knew he didn’t appreciate. If she wasn’t safe around all these officers, they had a bigger problem than Harold throwing a brick through the glass of her office. Drake didn’t make a fuss and nodded agreeably.

  Entering the bull-pen area and heading back to the interrogation rooms was something she had never done.

  “I’m going to ask him a few questions, see what he says before lawyering up. Considering who his father is, I’m surprised he hasn’t done so already,” Detective Bronson said. He waved her into a small room.

  Harold Sessions sat at a table in the next room staring down at his hands. Dressed in loose khaki trousers, brown sneakers, a light pink short-sleeved polo shirt streaked with dirt, possibly grime and grass with debris in his mid-length taupe colored hair. One of his blue-gray eyes looked bloodshot, there was a cut on his chin and a few bruises on his arms. They hadn’t been gentle with him.

  He looked sane.

  Watching him sit with his hands clasped together on the table she would never have guessed he’d tossed a brick and broken the glass of her office. Was it because of the restraining order? Would Faith need to put one out on him as well? She glanced at her watch as her stomach growled. Bronson needed to get started.

  The door to the room Harold sat in opened. Bronson entered. Another man she hadn’t met or seen before entered after Bronson and stood with his back against the door. Bronson carried a folder and sat at the table in front of Harold. He did the Miranda thing again and asked Harold if he understood.

  “Where is she?” Harold said, staring at Bronson. He leaned forward, gaze narrowed, and teeth bared as he spoke in a low growl. His entire demeanor changed so fast it took Faith a moment to process it.

  “Do you understand your rights as I’ve read them?” Bronson repeated in the same neutral tone.

  “Forget that and tell me where she is,” Harold snarled. His face hardened as his lips thinned and nostrils pinched
.

  “Sorry, Harold. I cannot forget it. I need to make sure you understand what we’re doing here before I can answer any of your questions,” Bronson said while staring at Harold.

  Faith watched both men and was impressed by Bronson’s calm.

  Harold waved his hand as if aggravated by the delay. “Yes. Yes, I understand what you’re saying. I don’t want an attorney yet. Now tell me where is she?” He spaced out the last three words with emphasis.

  Wide-eyed, fear crawled up Faith’s back at the menace on Harold’s face. How had Audrey put up with this man all this time? Faith placed one hand against her throat and wrapped the other one around her waist as she witnessed Harold Sessions falling apart.

  “Where is who?” Bronson asked.

  Harold slammed his hand on the table. “You know who I’m talking about. Audrey. Where did that woman take her?” He pointed at Bronson. “She’s hiding her from me.” He looked around the room. “Did she bring her here? Is that why you brought me here?” He looked confused while staring at Bronson.

  “No. I brought you here because you vandalized an office. You broke the law,” Bronson said slowly as if explaining the alphabets to an adult.

  Harold waved his hand. “I’ll pay for that. But it’s not my fault, not really. She took Audrey somewhere. I had to come here to find her, right?

  “What about the restraining order?” Bronson asked in a conversational tone.

  “Pffft. Nothing but hard to get games. She’s been telling me that for weeks,” Harold said as if the law didn’t apply to him.

  “Whether she’s been telling you that for days, weeks, months or years, this restraining order is valid, and if Audrey was here, we couldn’t allow you to be anywhere near her. That’s the law, not hard to get games,” Bronson said.

  Harold’s face turned red as he stared at Bronson. Shaking, his fists curled into tight balls. Faith would swear steam rose from his head. “You can’t keep her from me. We…we’re married,” Harold said.

  Detective Bronson shook his head. “No, you’re not. She filed a restraining order against you which means—”