SATURDAY MORNING
Detective Reed was taking lead, which was appropriate since the Victoria Mills homicide was her case. Lucy was happy to be able to participate as her partner.
The DA and AUSA were hesitant about bringing any of the accusations of money laundering and illegal gambling into the equation because they had no hard evidence yet—other than Simon Mills’s statement. Ryan had explained earlier that a scheme like this would take months to investigate, but because they had a strong beginning and substantial documentation he felt confident that the FBI office would be able to put a case together within weeks.
But it wouldn’t be today.
Today they wanted Faith Parker Monroe for the murder of Victoria Mills. They had sufficient circumstantial evidence, but the DA was still hesitant because Faith was a lawyer.
Jennifer fought long and hard for a warrant, however. They had Clemson’s statement that he picked up Faith at the crime scene at ten thirty, which was in the time of death window; Ash Dominguez had provided a report that Victoria’s blood was on the passenger side of the car; and both Mitch and Simon knew that Victoria was having an affair with Faith’s husband—which was motive.
However, Lucy felt strongly that Faith’s primary motive was because the Albright bones had been found. Faith knew that if Victoria heard about the bones she would know they were the Albrights’—or that once they were identified Victoria would realize that Faith and/or Harrison had killed her best friend and her family. Victoria was deeply involved in Harrison and Simon’s illegal gambling operations and subsequent money laundering, she would be able to turn over solid evidence had she been motivated to do so.
Yet … a woman scorned could never be underestimated.
But they had no witness, no murder weapon, and no physical evidence that Parker had been on the property. According to the ADA, Parker could claim that Clemson was lying because she gave him bad news or that she couldn’t get him out of his financial troubles. Clemson had no hard proof that Faith had killed Victoria. The blood had been found in his car, the defense could claim that he killed her. Ash Dominguez had practically taken the car apart, but there were no prints that didn’t match Clemson. He had definitely cleaned the interior, but Victoria’s blood was found on the carpet where the metal seat frame met the floor, and the side of the leather seat where it absorbed into the fabric.
Melissa Randolph’s statement was reliable, because Faith asked her directly to provide Clemson with the alibi, but that still didn’t prove that Faith had killed Victoria.
Clemson hadn’t seen a knife and claimed he took Parker straight home, so they were able to get a warrant to search Parker’s residence for the knife, clothing, and shoes that may have been worn during the crime. The DA also got a warrant for cell phone records to see if they could place Parker at the scene of the crime.
Chances were that Parker had gotten rid of the knife and the clothing—she was smart and a lawyer. Keeping them would be foolhardy. And while two months was a long time, with a stabbing as deep and violent as Victoria Mills’s, there could very well be blood in a seam or under the handle.
The biggest question was how Parker had gotten over to Clemson’s house in the first place. It was much too far to walk from her office or her house. Uber or a taxi would be traceable, though they would check with the taxi companies and with Parker’s credit card records. She didn’t drive her own car. If someone drove her, who? And why didn’t they pick her up—why bring Clemson into the situation at all?
But even though they didn’t have all the answers, they had enough to talk to Faith Parker Monroe.
And maybe, just maybe, she would slip up.
“I’m calling my lawyer,” was the first thing that Faith Parker Monroe said when Jennifer and Lucy arrived at her door and introduced themselves. “You can wait here.”
She began to close the door, but Jennifer put her boot in. “Actually, we have a warrant to search the premises and we don’t have a legal obligation to wait for your lawyer.”
“Let me see it. Now,” she said as if Jennifer had balked.
“Of course,” Jennifer said, her voice falsely sweet. She handed Parker the warrant. The DA had gone over it meticulously to make sure everything was in order before the judge signed it because he knew their suspect was an attorney. It was probably the cleanest warrant Lucy had ever seen.
Harrison walked into the entryway. “Faith?”
“They’re searching the house for clothes, shoes, and knives.”
“And you’ll also note that we have a warrant for your credit card records for the past six months, your cell phone and landline records, and a warrant that prohibits you from deleting any computer files or emails.”
“My computer files and emails are off-limits because of attorney-client privilege.”
“Which is why we have a warrant for your client names—which are not protected—so we can exclude those from any search of your hard drive. But in case you want to do a mass purge, this would make it a crime for you to do so.”
“We’ll see about that, Detective Reed.”
Parker looked at Lucy. “Who are you?” she demanded.
Lucy showed her badge. She had on her FBI jacket, so clearly the woman knew who she was.
“Special Agent Lucy Kincaid.”
“Kincaid,” she repeated, as if burning her name to memory. She looked Lucy straight in the eye and Lucy got the chills.
This woman was a sociopath.
Harrison asked Reed, “What is going on, Detective?”
“Your wife is a suspect in the murder of Victoria Mills. We have a warrant to search the premises for every knife with a blade four or more inches long, which we will test for DNA. It’s all clearly outlined in the warrant.”
Lucy had specifically asked for Ash to be on-site. As soon as she and Jennifer were inside, she called in Ash and his assistant, to be escorted by a uniformed officer. She wasn’t leaving Ash unprotected, because she really didn’t know what to expect from Faith Monroe. Ash was responsible for going over each knife, and they would only take and test those that fit the murder weapon. Two other officers and two technicians went to the bedroom upstairs to start the clothing search.
Harrison watched the men and women invade his house, concern crossing his smooth expression.
“I believe you are mistaken,” Harrison said to Reed. He was calm and almost soothing.
Jennifer said, “I’m not. Here’s a second warrant preventing your wife from traveling outside the state of Texas while we investigate this case. You should know, ma’am, that your passport and ID have been flagged and you will not be allowed on a plane. If you attempt to cross the border by car, you will arrested for attempting to flee to avoid prosecution.”
“You’re reaching,” Parker said.
“I’ve only just begun.” Jennifer turned to Lucy and winked. “Damn, I love my job.”
Lucy really liked Jennifer. Her style was wholly different from Lucy’s, but her approach came in handy. Harrison looked confused and worried—and a tad suspicious. Parker looked like she wanted to chop off their heads and feed their bodies to pigs.
“Shall we sit down and talk about your alibis?”
“Mine?” Harrison said.
“You’re not a suspect, but it would help us if we knew where you were on the night of Friday, September 6.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. “I need to check my calendar. I believe I was in Bandera that night looking at property I wanted to buy.”
Bandera. That was Mitch Corta’s alibi. Lucy didn’t say anything, but Jennifer asked, “Who can verify that information?”
“Mitch Corta was the Realtor who was with me, and I can find the contact information for the ranch we were looking at.”
“I have it,” Reed said. “Ex-husbands are always the first suspects.”
Mitch had told Sean that he’d been with Harrison that night, and earlier Reed had verified the alibi with the owners of the ranch.
But the way his wife was staring at him, she hadn’t known what he’d been doing. She wisely didn’t say anything.
“I don’t have to tell you anything,” she said. “I will have your badge, Detective Reed.”
“Good luck with that. Now, about your alibi, Mrs. Parker.”
“Monroe,” she snapped.
“I’m sorry, I know you’re a lawyer under the name Faith Parker.”
“That’s my maiden name, I built up my reputation on that name, but I am Faith Parker Monroe.”
“Of course, I understand. Where were you that night, Mrs. Parker Monroe?”
“I’m not going to speak with you without my lawyer present. You may leave.”
“No,” Jennifer said. “I am required to be here while my people are searching the premises.”
“Very well. Harrison, let’s go to the study. This is a very limited search warrant.” She turned to Lucy and Jennifer. “You touch one thing not itemized and I will have the whole thing tossed.”
Harrison didn’t move.
“Now, Harrison,” Parker said.
Slowly, Harrison turned and followed her.
When they were out of earshot, Jennifer smiled widely. “Damn, she’s good. But I’m better. I’m going to nail her ass and enjoy doing it.”
Lucy said, “Harrison is in shock.”
“He’s a criminal. We’re going to get him, too, it’s just going to take longer.”
“Literally, he never considered that his wife had killed Victoria.”
“How can you tell?”
“His manner. Expression. Tone.”
“He was practically a robot.”
“He’s very calm and smooth, but he has a tell, and I’m pretty confident of my profile of him. And if he’s as ruthless as people say he is, she may be dead by morning. I think he was deeply in love with Victoria.”
Reed frowned. “Where’s the fun in that? I want her in trial being all indignant and then getting the death penalty and rotting in a cell for ten years before she’s fried.”
“Texas uses lethal injection.”
“Just a figure of speech.”
Lucy didn’t have the heart to tell Jennifer that Victoria’s murder wouldn’t be a capital offense in Texas. It would be considered a crime of passion because Parker killed her husband’s lover. Jennifer probably knew it but chose to forget.
But Parker would still go away for a long time.
And if they could prove she ordered the murders of the Albright family, she very well may fry, as Jennifer said.
“We need to separate them,” Lucy said.
“We can’t compel a spouse to testify against another spouse.”
“No, but if we tell Harrison what we have, he might spontaneously give us something we can use.”
“She’s not going to let him out of her sight.”
“I will take full responsibility for this,” Lucy said.
“Wh—” Jennifer began as Lucy bumped into a vase that came crashing down to the floor.
Faith Parker ran from the study. “Do you know how much that vase cost? More than your annual salary! I will charge you and your department and you will pay for it out of your own pocket!” She was screaming at Jennifer.
Lucy said, “It was me, I’m so sorry, it was an accident.”
“Bullshit!” Faith screamed. She turned to Jennifer and started yelling at her, since she had established that she was in charge.
Lucy moved out of her line of sight and went down the hall in the direction that Faith came from.
Harrison Monroe was sitting in a small study that was really more of a reading room in the large home. “Agent,” he said formally.
She closed the door. “I’m going to be honest with you, Mr. Monroe.” She had to put aside the fact that he ran a criminal enterprise and might have been party to Denise Albright’s murder. At this point she didn’t know if Harrison had ordered it, or Faith, or if Carl Chavez had acted on his own.
“We have two witnesses, one who is extremely believable.” She didn’t say which one. “First, one states that Faith used his property to access the house where Victoria was preparing for an open house. He then picked her up in his car—we found Victoria’s blood under his passenger seat—and brought her home. The other witness stated that Faith asked her to give that man an alibi for the evening, after a neighbor came forward who saw his car in the driveway.” She let that sink in. “Victoria was stabbed and pushed into a pool where she drowned. Did your wife know that you were having an affair with her?”
He didn’t say anything. But his face was surprisingly expressive for someone who took great pains to remain neutral and calm in everything he did. He was in pain—stunned. In disbelief.
“Go away.”
“You shouldn’t stay here tonight. You don’t want to do anything that you’ll regret.”
“Finish your job and leave,” he said.
Faith burst into the room. “How dare you question my husband without our lawyer present! Nothing he says is admissible.”
Lucy looked her in the eye. “Your husband isn’t a suspect in the murder of Victoria Mills.”
Jennifer stepped into the doorway. “Lucy, Ash found something.”
Lucy followed Jennifer to the kitchen.
Ash had every knife lined up on the expansive counter. Three were pulled aside.
“What is it?” Lucy asked.
Please be the murder weapon.
“These three knives match the dimensions of the wound. I sprayed them. Look.” He shined a UV light over them.
One had spots near the hilt that fluoresced.
“This doesn’t mean this was the knife that killed Victoria, but it has blood under the grip and I can take it apart and test it.”
“I love you, Ash,” Jennifer said.
“Shucks, thanks, but I’m seeing someone,” Ash teased.
“You are?” Lucy asked.
Ash blushed. “Melanie, the forensic anthropologist. You met her once, I think.”
Lucy smiled. “She’s both smart and cute.”
He blushed deeper, and then Jennifer said, “Take pictures, bag it, tag it, test it ASAP.”
“I can tell you as soon as I get to the lab whether the blood type matches Victoria Mills’s today, but it’ll take a couple days for a DNA comparison.”
Two officers came down the stairs. “No shoes or clothes test positive for blood,” one said.
“She got rid of them,” Lucy said, “but why keep the knife?”
“It’s a beautiful set,” Ash said. “Henckels, pricey but worth it.”
“I’ll bet you a hundred dollars that they were a wedding present,” Lucy said.
Jennifer stared at her.
“I’m a psychologist. It fits her. She wanted to kill her husband’s lover—the lover he was first engaged to—with something that had meaning to her, and to him. And she kept it so that every time he used the knife, she could remember how she killed the woman he loved more than her.”
“Wow,” Jennifer said. “You think?”
“Yeah, I think that’s exactly what she was thinking, and after spending ten minutes with her I think she consciously thought it. I wouldn’t be surprised if Victoria was the one who gave them the knife set for their wedding. Parker is calculating and sharp, but she’s extremely angry.”
“Angry criminals fuck up,” Jennifer said. “Should we arrest her?”
“It’s going to be Victoria’s blood, but we can’t prove it yet. I think we follow the plan. But,” Lucy added, “we do need to give them a receipt for everything we take.”
Jennifer smiled. She asked Ash to bag and sign the evidence bag, then grabbed it from him. She walked down the hall and back to the study. “We’ll be leaving now, we found what we came for.” She held up the knife.
Harrison stared at it in shock. Faith stared at it in disbelief.
“It tested positive for blood,” Jennifer added. “Under the hilt. Very hard to clean no matter how many times you wash it.”
“Out of my house,” Faith said.
“I’ll give you a receipt.”
Jennifer walked to the kitchen and gave the knife back to Ash. Faith was hot on her heels. “Please give Mrs. Monroe a receipt for the knife that we’re taking.”
“Of course,” Ash said nervously, signing a slip and holding it out to Parker. She didn’t take it. He put it on the counter and left with the evidence, followed by the remaining officers. Jennifer and Lucy trailed behind.
In the entry, Jennifer said to Faith, “Remember what I said. No travel.”
“You’ll be hearing from my lawyer,”
“I look forward to it.”
Lucy felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. She knew that feeling.
Someone was watching them.
As the sensation washed over her, a loud report echoed at the same time as Faith staggered back into the house. Blood spread across her chest.
“Down!” Jennifer screamed as she and Lucy took cover inside the house. She reported on her radio that shots were fired.
“It’s a sniper,” Lucy said. She shut the door.
Harrison ran to the foyer. He stared at his wife, who was struggling to breathe. Lucy started to administer first aid.
But it was too late.
Jennifer was talking in her radio. “Find him!”
To Lucy she said, “There’s a sniper in a tree. Someone said it’s Carl Chavez.”
Harrison stared at her. He didn’t say anything, but it was clear from his expression that he knew who Carl Chavez was and he was shocked that the man had just shot and killed his wife.
A bullet came through the front window, then another and another.
“Get down!” Lucy shouted at Harrison.
He stared at her again, as if frozen.
Lucy rushed Harrison and tackled him to the floor. “Stay here!” she ordered. She went back and checked Faith’s pulse. Nothing.
Lucy shook her head to Jennifer to indicate that Faith was gone, then she had her gun around and positioned herself next to Jennifer.
“What about our people outside?” Lucy said.
Jennifer put her finger up. She was listening to her earpiece.
“Everyone has cover, though it’s tight. They’re working on a plan now.”
“Did she really kill Victoria?”
Lucy turned to where Harrison was on the floor, his back against a wall, in the hall off the foyer. He was staring at Faith’s body, expressionless.
“Yes, Harrison, she really did,” Lucy said.
“She couldn’t hold a candle to Victoria,” he said. “Fuck you, Faith,” he said, his voice soft. “I hope you’re burning in hell.”
Jennifer looked at Lucy, her eyebrows raised. “I have no problem with that,” she said. She put her finger to her ear again, then said to Lucy, “We confirmed Chavez. They’re going to flush him out, stay put.”
Lucy wasn’t moving, but this was the best time to get some answers from Harrison.
“Harrison, did you order the hit on the Albright family?”
He slowly looked at her. “What?”
“They were executed. Their bodies were found. Certainly you’ve been following the news.”
He nodded but looked confused. “Why would I kill them? She left the country. She wasn’t supposed to come back. We gave her three million dollars to stay away.”
“Three million that you embezzled from Kiefer.”
He didn’t say anything to that. He looked back at Faith’s body. The blood didn’t bother him. Because he was a killer or because he hated his wife?
A moment later, Jennifer said, “They have him in custody.” She nodded to Harrison. “Do you want to do the honors, or shall I?”
“Go right ahead, I want to talk to Chavez before he lawyers up.”
Jennifer approached Harrison and read him his rights. He didn’t resist or say another word.
Lucy went out to the yard, where two officers had already cuffed Carl Chavez and were standing sentry while he sat on the ground next to a squad car.
Chavez glared at Lucy. “Fucking bitch.”
At first, Lucy thought he was talking to her, but he was looking behind her. She could see Faith Parker’s dead body in the foyer.
Chavez continued, “That woman ruined my fucking life, and I’m glad she’s dead.”
“Tell me one thing,” Lucy said. “Did Faith Parker or Simon Mills order the assassination of the Albright family?”
“Mills? That fucking wimp?” He laughed, which bordered on hysterical. “Parker. She said the bitch would be back within the week spilling her guts if we didn’t take care of her then. And then she turns on me? She sets me up? After I fucking did everything for her? Hell no, I’m nobody’s fool.”
Jennifer came up behind Lucy, leading Harrison Monroe from the house.
“You certainly aren’t,” Jennifer said, looked at Lucy, and winked.
Lucy’s phone vibrated and she pulled it from her pocket. She needed a hot shower as soon as possible—she had Faith’s blood all over her.
The call was from her boss, Rachel.
“Kincaid.”
“I owe your husband a beer.”
“He’ll be happy to hear that. Why?”
“Mitch Corta just turned himself in to our office with boxes of documents that he says will show how and where Harrison Monroe and Simon Mills laundered their illegal gaming money. He has a lawyer, says he wants to work on a plea arrangement. Adam and his team are more than a little excited by what he’s brought us.”
“Did he say why he didn’t come in yesterday? Sean thought for sure he would.”
“He said he needed to go to three different banks to collect the evidence and he was paranoid that someone would follow him, so it took all day. He drove back from Dallas this morning.”
“Great news,” Lucy said, then filled her in on what had happened at the Monroe house.
When she finally got off the phone, Ash Dominguez came over to her. “We finally know the truth,” he said. “We can put that family to rest.”
“You’re going to get another commendation in your file,” Lucy said. “You went above and beyond.”
“Thank you, but anyone would have done the same.”
“No, not anyone, Ash. Not everyone is like us.” She smiled. “Do you want to come over for Thanksgiving? Bring Melanie. I like her.”
“I love your parties, but Melanie is taking me to meet her parents. They live in Houston. I’m nervous.”
“They’ll love you.”
“I hope so.”
“They will.”
“I need to stay to process the scene,” he said, “but because I’m working all weekend, I get two extra days off for Thanksgiving, which is unheard of. I’m usually stuck working holidays because I don’t have a family.”
“Take advantage of it,” Lucy said, thinking about Patrick and Elle and wishing she could do something … anything … to get them to San Antonio for Thanksgiving.
“I am.”
She watched Ash suit up and direct his team to process both where Carl Chavez had been shooting at them, and the foyer where Faith Parker Monroe still lay dead. One team member had already photographed the scene and had covered her body.
Ricky Albright would see his grandparents for the first time in three years. He would need counseling and support, but he was finally going to have peace. Lucy found Nate talking to SAPD. “You need to clean up,” he said.
“I do. And while I do that, go to Saint Catherine’s and tell Ricky what happened. Tell him he’s safe.”
Nate nodded, squeezed her arm, and said, “We did good, Kincaid.”
“Yes, we did.”