Bishop sat at the desk in the guest room, scrolling through the report while Mason and Radley spoke to him through the speaker on his phone.
“You’re both right,” Bishop said. “It’s all too neat. Too perfect. Both computers with internet searches on hiring hitmen and assassins—and how to get away with it? I don’t buy it.
“Cynthia’s smart, always has been,” he conceded. “The only reason she gets bad grades is that she’s rebellious and doesn’t want to do the work. And that boyfriend of hers is a computer graphics major. Why would they go to the trouble of printing the ransom note in the library so it didn’t come back as having been printed on their own printers, then leave search histories in their computers that make it look like they’re killers? If you ask me, someone else did those searches, hoping we’d find them. It’s as if they knew what kind of evidence we’d need to tie everything up in a nice neat bow and handed it to us for an open-shut case.”
“Agreed,” Mason said. “That’s why Radley and I are on our way back with some computer forensics guys and a warrant. We’re going to look at any other computers in the house to see what else we can find. We think there’s way more to this.”
“I still think Cynthia’s guilty,” Radley said. “And her boyfriend. Of the ransom gimmick. But everything else? My gut tells me they’ve been set up to take the fall for the rest of it. The more I’ve seen them, talked to them, read reports from interviews with their friends and professors, they just don’t seem organized enough or methodical enough to set up the assassination attempt or to hire those mercenaries.”
Bishop sat back, steepling his fingers. “Cynthia was in high school when Shane died. I know Radley said teenagers kill—it’s not unheard of. But I have a hard time picturing her doing it. I knew her back then. She was focused on weed and boys, period. Not to mention, there’s just no motive.”
“Someone else hired the assassin and the mercenaries,” Mason said. “I think we agree on that.”
“We do. The question is who, and why. Radley, have you gotten the results from the tests on the syringes from the hospital?”
“No, and it’s not looking good. I don’t think we can count on that to be our smoking gun.”
“So all we really have at this point is a gut feeling, and a belief that a killer may have injected two people with something to cause a heart attack,” Bishop said. “The labs haven’t come back with any conclusions there, either?”
“In spite of our bluffing in the meeting at the Manning estate,” Radley said, “that’s not looking promising. Typical toxicology screens look for hundreds of drugs. Nothing popped up. I’m going to ask a professor at one of the local universities for suggestions of other things to look for, something that doesn’t show up on normal tests unless you know to specifically test for it. We could very well be looking at real heart attacks. Seems oddly coincidental, but it happens.”
Bishop had been staring out the window as he’d listened to them. The tall plants on the left side of the pool house seemed to go on forever. The same plants he’d seen at Harper’s yard. He remembered her saying her stepmother had given them to her... Something was niggling at the back of his mind about those plants, something he’d seen on some forensics show on TV. He pulled the keyboard to him and typed a string into the search engine. “Hey, Radley. Can you tell me how Julia Manning’s first husband died? I’ve got a hunch.”
“I’ve probably got that right on my phone. I have a brief background on all our potential suspects. Hang on.” A moment later he said, “Here it is. Well, what do you know. Heart attack. I think that coincidence theory is out the window at this point.”
“I’m with you on that.” Bishop pressed Enter and his screen filled with pictures of plants. He scrolled down to the bottom of the page. “Bingo! That’s it. There’s a plant that’s highly poisonous and if ingested in large enough quantities can mimic the reaction of a drug that saves lives if someone has a heart attack. But if they don’t have heart trouble, it will give them a heart attack.”
“You’re talking about digitalis?” Radley said.
“I am. Guess what plant mimics digitalis?”
“No clue.”
“Oleander.” His gaze shifted out the window. “And I’m looking at hundreds of them right now.”
“Where?”
“The Manning’s backyard. Julia Manning’s garden is full of them.”
“Great work, Bishop,” Radley said. “If we can use Mason’s lab for quick results, maybe they can look specifically for oleander poisoning with the gunman?”
“Of course,” Mason said. “I can get Bryson to call his Paris contacts, too, and make sure they also test Colette’s remains for oleander.”
“If those both come back positive,” Radley chimed in, “I’ll see about exhuming Julia Manning’s first husband. What about motive? Juries always need a motive and I’m stumped on this one.”
“I’m blank on that one, as well,” Bishop said. “But if she killed her first husband, what’s to stop her from killing the second one? Maybe she got tired of him, who knows? But with Earl being so high-profile, and having a physical every year by the same doctor who gives the sitting president his physicals, I imagine she didn’t think she could get rid of him by faking a heart attack.”
“Divorce by assassin,” Mason said. “And make it look like the whole family was at risk by having them go after Harper, too? To draw attention away from Mrs. Manning?”
Bishop unclenched his hands. “It’s a theory. And it makes sense she’d go after her stepdaughter instead of her biological children. If you lay it all out, think it through, it’s a macabre kind of logic. Cynthia creates the ransom hoax to get money. Julia decides that’s the perfect diversion to allow her to get rid of Earl and frame her daughter.”
“If that’s the case, what about Shane? And Colette Proust?” Radley asked.
“The one thing that Harper and everyone else drove into us this whole time is how important the Manning reputation is to Earl,” Bishop said. “When Shane was born, he was still in the White House, seeking a second term. What if Julia’s the one who safeguarded his reputation? In her own sick way, maybe she thought if she eliminated Shane, and the midwife, then there was no chance of the truth ever getting out and potentially harming her husband’s career. To a sane, normal person, it makes zero sense. But if she’s a sociopath, with no conscience, who’d already killed at least once—”
“Her first husband,” Radley said.
“Exactly. Killing again after that was considered a reasonable way to take care of a problem—in her mind. Killing an innocent baby, and the midwife, no big deal for her. It was a means to an end. Later, when she grew tired of Earl, killing him would be quick and easy and she’d still get his millions. Except that because of who he was, there’d be investigations. Cynthia’s scheme gave her the perfect opportunity.”
Mason swore. “And framing her own daughter didn’t bother her at all. She truly is a nut job.”
“If our theory is true,” Bishop added. “It’s still just that, a theory. We need proof, preferably before Cynthia is railroaded for murder.”
“I’ll get the lab on this right away,” Mason told them. “Exhuming the first husband is the key. And I’ll text Eli and Caleb to go to the hospital to hang in the hallway outside Mrs. Manning’s room. The Secret Service agent assigned to watch over her is there to protect her, not to keep her from escaping.”
“The hospital? I thought she was at the police station.”
Radley answered. “She was so distraught on the way to the station that Secret Service took her to the hospital. She’s been sedated.”
Bishop straightened in his chair. “Who’s the agent guarding her?”
“I think it’s Faulk,” Radley said. “Why?”
Bishop shoved back from his desk and hurried through the main house. “If we assume that Julia injected the gunman at the hospital to make sure he wouldn’t tell anyone that she’d hired him, how would she have known he was there so she could bring the poison with her? I didn’t mention the gunman when I called the Mannings.”
“Maybe she’s crazy enough to carry the poison with her all the time,” Radley said. “Or, what are you thinking? Someone else poisoned him?”
“No. I think someone else called her and told her about the gunman so she could mix up a batch of poison and bring it with her. He was sick that first day in the ER. She probably poisoned him the very first time she came to the hospital to visit Harper...
“For her to have come that first day, with the poison, she had to have been given advance notice that the gunman was there. She has to be working with someone else. I’m betting it’s the same person who’s been with her since he requested reassignment. He sounded believable about overhearing Cynthia and Dean talking about wanting to hurt Earl in some way, because he really did hear that conversation. But he used that information to try to frame Cynthia for murder, not the ransom route they eventually chose.”
“You’re talking about Faulk.”
“Yes. I think he’s in this just as deep as Julia. Mason, did you text Eli and Caleb already?” He yanked open one of the French doors off the back and jogged past the pool, heading to the pool house.
“I did. The hospital’s not too far from the station. They were—Wait, Eli’s texting me back now. Hang on.”
Bishop shoved the door open and ran inside the pool house. The big bed to the left of the door was empty. So was the couch, and the kitchenette. He hurried to the bathroom. The door was standing wide open. “She’s not here.”
“Who?”
“Harper. She was supposed to be in the pool house.” He ran to the front windows and looked out. Then he ran to the side windows.
“Bishop, Eli said they called the hospital. Faulk and Mrs. Manning never arrived.”
“Why wasn’t I told?” Radley swore. “I’ll get my team looking for her right now. I’ll get a BOLO out on her car. She didn’t go back home?”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” Bishop said. “If she did, I didn’t hear or see her.” He spotted some broken plants in the otherwise pristine garden. He yanked open the door and ran outside.
“Bishop?” Mason asked. “What’s going on?”
“I’m trying to find Harper. Mason—”
“We’re almost there. I’ll get the Seekers out there. I just texted Eli and Caleb. They’re turning around now and heading your way.”
Gage stopped in the middle of a row of oleanders, the blood draining from his face, leaving him cold as he looked at the ground that had been destroyed.
His hand shook as he spoke into the phone. “Radley, get your cops out here. Get the Secret Service. Get everyone.”
“What’s wrong?” Radley asked. “What have you found?”
“In the garden, beside the pool house. Evidence of a struggle. Broken plants. Footprints. I think they’re Harper’s. And someone else’s. They’re small. Probably Julia’s.” His heart seemed to squeeze in his chest. “There’s blood. A lot of blood.”
“Hold on,” Radley said. “We’re just down the street now. I can see the house.”
“Harper. I can’t...she can’t—”
“Don’t lose hope, Bishop,” Mason said, his voice tight.
Bishop bent, studying the dirt. “There’s a blood trail. It’s faint. A few drops here and there. And, thank God, two sets of footprints. I think Harper’s still alive.” He hurried along the row of plants. Good grief, did this garden never end? He stopped every few yards, searching until he found another drop.
Finally, he reached the end of the row. The drops were long with a slight tail, indicating the direction the person was heading as the blood dripped from them. He continued off to the right, deeper into the estate, toward a stand of trees about thirty yards away.
“What’s going on, Bishop? Sit rep!” Mason demanded.
Gage jogged to the trees then slowed to check the ground again to make sure he was going in the right direction.
“Bishop?”
“Give me a second.” He turned in a slow circle, widening his search radius. Then he spotted it. Another drop, with an elongated tail, proving he was headed the same way as the injured person, presumably Harper.
“They haven’t left the estate. Mason, the trail leads deeper into the property, toward the woods on the south side of the property.” He shaded his eyes, scanning the trees and bushes a hundred yards away. Two figures moved in the shade, the one in front slightly hunched over, holding some kind of box in her hands. Harper. Behind her, Julia shoved her forward. The two of them disappeared into the woods.
Bishop took off running.