Page 3 of Shattered Truth (Off The Grid: FBI #15)

Chapter Two

Haley didn't sleep all night and after tossing and turning for hours, she got up at six on Friday morning, made herself a pot of coffee, and jumped onto her computer. To find the answers to her questions about Sabrina Lin, she did what she always did: she researched.

Now, three hours later, she was sitting at her small dining room table in her fourth-floor Santa Monica apartment.

The dining room table, which doubled as her desk since her one-bedroom apartment wasn't big enough for a real office, overlooked the alley behind the building and the back of another apartment complex.

There was no beach view, no palm trees swaying in the ocean breeze, just dumpsters and fire escapes and the occasional stray cat.

But the rent was cheap, and it was hers.

After a chaotic childhood, having her own space mattered more than the view.

As she sipped her third mug of coffee, her gaze swept the table, where she'd compiled notes and printouts on Sabrina Lin and had dug out the dusty box of files she'd put together after her brother's death.

She'd known there had to be a connection between Sabrina and her brother, and she'd finally found one.

Sabrina Lin was thirty years old and originally from San Francisco.

She had attended UC Berkeley for undergrad, then Westbridge University Law School, the same school that Landon had attended.

Sabrina had graduated from Westbridge Law five years ago, and Landon had died six years ago, which meant she'd been in her final year of law school when Landon died.

It seemed unlikely they would have known each other, because Sabrina would have been four years older than Landon and probably not a part of the undergrad fraternity party scene. But it was a link she couldn't ignore.

As her gaze moved to Sabrina's phone, she picked it up once more, still staring at the lock screen and the final message Sabrina had gotten.

She'd tried everything she could think of to unlock the phone: common number combinations, birthdates she'd found in her research, even the date of Landon's death.

Nothing worked. The phone remained stubbornly locked, keeping its secrets and reminding her she never should have taken it.

It had been an impulsive decision, and she didn't really regret it; she just wished she could get into it.

She'd made friends with a hacker several years ago while working on a story; maybe she could get him to open it for her.

As three sharp knocks suddenly came at her door, she dropped the phone with a clatter, her head swinging toward the door. It was nine in the morning, and no one ever just stopped by.

The knocking came again, more insistent this time. A stern male voice followed…

"Ms. Kenton? FBI. I need to speak with you."

Her blood turned to ice.

FBI? Why would the FBI want to talk to her? Had they connected her to Sabrina's death?

Her stomach flipped over, and a wave of panicked nausea ran through her.

"Ms. Kenton, I know you're in there," the man continued. "Your car is in the parking garage. I need to ask you a few questions."

She got to her feet and grabbed Sabrina's phone. If he saw it, if he knew she'd taken it from the crime scene, she might never see what evidence might be inside. She took it into the adjacent kitchen and shoved it in a drawer as the impatient FBI agent knocked again.

Then she walked to the door. Through the peephole, she saw a tall, brown-haired, broad-shouldered man wearing black jeans and a dark sports coat over a button-down shirt.

His hair was wavy and mussed as if he'd been caught in the wind or had run his fingers through the strands more than a few times.

As he glanced directly at the peephole, she found herself looking into piercing brown eyes that seemed like they could see right through her.

"Ms. Kenton…"

She unlocked the door and opened it a few inches, keeping the chain latch engaged.

"Can I see some identification?" she asked.

He pulled a badge from his pocket. "Special Agent Matt Lawson. I need to talk to you about Sabrina Lin."

She tried to keep her expression neutral. "I'm sorry, who?"

"The woman who died in Griffith Park last night. I believe you were there."

Haley's heart pounded against her ribs. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Ms. Kenton, we have security camera footage of your car leaving the park around the time of Ms. Lin's death. I believe you also placed a 911 call from a burner phone. We need to talk. Let me in."

She hesitated one more second, but she didn't have a choice. She should have realized there might have been cameras in the parking lot. Unlatching the chain, she opened the door and said, "Come in."

Matt stepped into the apartment and immediately noticed the chaos of someone who clearly lived and breathed their work, with files and papers dominating the small dining room table.

After his gaze swept the room, he gave Haley Kenton another long look.

She was much prettier in person than in her DMV photo, although it didn't appear her wavy brown hair had seen a brush yet.

She wore leggings and an oversized long-sleeve T-shirt, her face devoid of makeup.

But her features were stunning: wide-set light-blue eyes, upturned nose, and a full mouth.

He cleared his throat, annoyed at the unexpected attraction to a woman who might very well be a murderer.

"I'll get straight to the point," he said sharply. "Why were you at Griffith Park last night?"

Haley hesitated a fraction of a second too long. "I go walking there sometimes. To clear my head."

"At seven o'clock at night?"

"I like the quiet. It wasn't dark yet," she said defensively.

"Did you talk to Sabrina Lin?"

She stared back at him, folding her arms across her chest, taking a defensive stance. "No."

He waited for her to explain, but she didn't. "No?"

"No," she repeated. "I've never spoken to Sabrina Lin in my life."

His gaze narrowed. "Look, we can talk here, or I can take you in for official questioning. Why don't you stop stalling and tell me why you were in the park."

She stared back at him, conflict running through her gaze as she debated what she wanted to tell him.

"I'm a journalist," she said finally. "Sabrina asked me to meet her in the park. She had a lead on an old story I was chasing."

"But you just said you didn't talk to her."

"I didn't. I saw her on the bridge. I was about twenty feet away when she suddenly screamed and went down.

It seemed like she was convulsing. I ran to her and tried to help, but she was already dead.

It happened so fast. I heard someone in the brush, and I panicked and ran. I didn't want to be next."

"Why did you wait fifteen minutes to call 911? Why use a burner phone?"

"I just wanted to get away. I was terrified. And I didn't give my name because I didn't want to be targeted. Sometimes 911 calls and witness names get leaked to the press."

There was some truth to what she was saying, but he didn't think he was getting the whole story. "So, you see Sabrina on the bridge. She screams and collapses. Is that it? Did you hear a gunshot?"

"I didn't. That's the thing. I didn't know what happened to her." She hesitated once more. "When I got to her, there was blood on her neck, and I saw what looked like a needle in the skin under her jaw. I think someone shot it into her neck. She died almost instantly."

"Someone? Or maybe you killed her and ran," he suggested.

Her blue eyes widened in shock. "No way. I couldn't kill anyone. How could you think that?"

"Because you're being cagey. You didn't stay at the scene. You didn't identify yourself to the 911 dispatcher. You didn't call in this morning, having had time to calm down and think about it."

"I told you. I didn't want to be a witness. I didn't want to put a target on my back. I don't know who killed her or why."

"If she called you and asked you to meet her there, then you're connected in some way to her death."

"I—I don't know how. But that thought occurred to me, too," she admitted.

"You said she had a lead on a story. What was the story?"

"It was the death of a student at a university six years ago.

" Her gaze darted toward the files on her table before coming back to him.

"But I never spoke to Sabrina. She left me a voicemail to meet her, but she died before she could explain.

I've been trying to figure out what connection she might have to that old case, and I discovered this morning that she attended the same university's law school.

Her time there overlapped with the death of the student. "

Haley's account corroborated what he knew about Sabrina. He also knew that Haley Kenton was a thirty-one-year-old reporter for the Los Angeles Sentinel , where she'd worked the past two years. Before that, she'd worked for media outlets in San Luis Obispo and Santa Barbara.

"I have to get to work," she said. "Are we done?"

"We've barely started, Ms. Kenton."

"I don't have anything else to tell you. I don't know who killed her. Was there any evidence at the scene?"

"Our biggest lead is you."

"Then you have nothing."

He was about to press further when there was a knock at the door. Haley jumped.

"Expecting someone?" he asked.

"No. I never have this many visitors. Excuse me," she said, moving to the door. She checked the peephole. "It's my neighbor." She opened the door to reveal a woman in her late fifties standing in the hallway, her curious dark eyes moving from Haley to him.

"Oh, Haley, I'm sorry. I didn't know you had company." She waited, clearly hoping for an introduction that never came.

"Do you need something, Mrs. Gonzalez?" Haley asked.

"I just wanted to let you know a woman came by yesterday looking for you."

Haley tensed. "What woman?"

"She didn't give me her name. But she had straight black hair, very professional-looking. She knocked on your door around eight in the morning. I ran into her in the hallway, and I told her you had already gone to work. She seemed disappointed. Said she'd hoped to catch you before you left."

Matt watched Haley's face carefully. The description matched Sabrina Lin perfectly, and from the way the color drained from Haley's cheeks, she knew it.

"Did she say what she wanted?" Haley asked, her voice carefully controlled.

"Just that she needed to speak with you about something important. She seemed nervous, kept looking over her shoulder. I offered to take a message, but she said she'd call you instead." The woman's curious gaze moved between Haley and Matt. "Is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine, Mrs. Gonzalez. Thank you for telling me."

"Of course. You let me know if you need anything."

As Haley closed the door, he said, "I need to hear Sabrina's voicemail."

"Okay." She picked up the phone sitting on the table next to her laptop and played him the voicemail: "Ms. Kenton, you don't know me, but my name is Sabrina Lin.

I have information about Landon's death.

I can't explain over the phone. Would you meet me?

" Sabrina went on to give directions to the bridge at Griffith Park before ending the call.

"Was that the only time she called? May I see your phone?"

"It's the only time she called me, and I don't think I have to give you my phone."

She didn't have to, but he thought her resistance was another sign she was keeping something secret.

He thought about the message he'd just heard.

There had been anxiety in Sabrina's voice, a definite sense of urgency.

But the way she'd said Landon stuck out to him.

As if Haley would instantly know who Landon was.

Haley had said the call was about a college kid who'd died six years ago. She hadn't referenced a personal connection to that case. She'd implied that Sabrina had called her because she was a journalist, but he didn't think that was the case. "Who's Landon?"

"He's the college kid who died."

"Right. But who is Landon to you?"

Before she could answer, a phone began to ring, but it wasn't the phone in her hand, nor was it coming from a second phone that was also on the table. The ringing was coming from the kitchen.

Haley's gaze followed his, but she made no move to answer the phone.

"Don't you want to get that?"

"No. It's an old phone. I use that number for spam calls." The phone stopped ringing, and she let out a breath. "I really have to go to work." She'd barely finished speaking when the phone started ringing again.

He headed into the kitchen. She got to the drawer at the same time as him. "You don't have any right to look in my drawers," she said. "You don't have a search warrant."

He gave her a hard look. "Do you want me to get one? If you didn't kill Sabrina and you don't know who did, then why are you so nervous right now?"

She bit down on her bottom lip.

He reached around her and opened the drawer, pulling out the sleek, expensive phone. There was a text across the screen and several missed calls from a number he recognized because he'd called it earlier that morning. It was the number for Sabrina's employer, Adler and Briggs.

His gaze moved from the screen to Haley. "I think I already know the answer to this question, but I'm going to ask it anyway, and I suggest you think carefully about the fact that it's a crime to lie to a federal agent." He paused. "Is this Sabrina Lin's phone?"