Page 4 of Shattered Truth (Off The Grid: FBI #15)

Chapter Three

Haley hesitated for a long minute, then said, "Yes. Sabrina dropped it on the ground when she fell, and I grabbed it. I don't know why, except I thought maybe it would tell me why she wanted to talk to me, what information she had to give me."

"And?"

"I haven't been able to open it."

He glanced at the message on the screen. "Who's A?"

"No idea."

"Sabrina was digging into something that could risk her job," he murmured. "Apparently, that had to do with this college kid's death."

"Maybe or maybe not. I'm sure she worked on more than one case."

"Why would her firm be looking into this student's death? They're a corporate law firm. Unless they represent the university?"

"Adler and Briggs doesn't represent the university, but their owner and at least some of their employees, including Sabrina, went to school there."

"So, there's a tie." He gave her another questioning look. "Who is Landon to you, Ms. Kenton?"

"Why is the FBI investigating Sabrina's death?" she countered. "Shouldn't that be the LAPD?"

"The park is federal land. And you didn't answer my question. Who is Landon? You might as well tell me; it won't take me long to figure it out."

"He's my younger brother. He was my younger brother," she corrected, pain tightening her expression. "He was six days short of his twenty-first birthday when he ended up dead in a pond in the woods behind his fraternity house."

"Was it a hazing incident?"

"He'd been a member of the fraternity for over a year, so they denied it was anything like that. There was a party the night before. The police believed my brother got drunk, stumbled into the woods late at night, and tumbled into the pond, too inebriated to get himself out of the water."

"But you don't believe that."

"No. My brother was an intellectual. He lived for school.

He was always studying. He didn't waste time getting drunk or going to parties.

He told me a few times he wished he'd never gotten into the fraternity, because he didn't have time for the nonsense.

" She paused. "And you know what I told him?

I said it's probably a good way to make valuable contacts. "

He could see the self-hatred in her eyes and felt a wave of compassion for her.

"That fraternity got him killed," she continued.

"I have never believed it was an accident, but I've never been able to prove it was anything else.

I don't know why Sabrina Lin called me out of the blue yesterday, why she wanted to meet me, or what she knew, but I need to find out.

I need to open that phone. It might tell me how and why my brother died. "

His hand tightened on the phone. "Once we get it open, we'll look into anything related to your brother."

"And you'll tell me?" she asked.

"It depends on what we find. I can't jeopardize a murder investigation by sharing information with the last person to see Sabrina Lin alive."

"I didn't kill her," she said. "Tell me you believe me."

He stared at her plaintive blue eyes, finding it difficult to believe she had a murderous bone in her body. But he couldn't let a pretty face get in the way of logic and reason. "I haven't made a decision yet."

Disappointment ran through her gaze. "Well, I'm the last person who would want her dead. I wanted to know what she found out about my brother."

"Who would want to make sure that didn't happen?"

"I've always been suspicious of some of Landon's fraternity brothers.

They seemed to tell the exact same story, as if it was scripted and rehearsed.

But I couldn't find a reason why anyone would have wanted him dead.

Landon was a mild-mannered guy. He wasn't opinionated or argumentative.

He didn't start fights. His girlfriend told me he was friends with everyone. "

"He had a girlfriend?"

"Yes, Brooke Mercer. I didn't actually know about her. Landon always brushed me off when I asked about girls. But Brooke was heartbroken when Landon died. She said they were talking about moving in together after graduation."

"Did Brooke think your brother was killed?"

"No. She thought he might have gotten talked into drinking too much, because it was the week of his twenty-first birthday and everyone wanted to party with him."

"Was she at the party that night?"

"No. She was away that weekend." She drew in a breath.

"I'm sure you can pull the files on the investigation from the LAPD if you want to know all the details.

You might find out more than I did. I drove everyone there crazy with my questions.

They got irritated and stopped talking to me.

There was one sympathetic detective, but she never came up with anything, either, and the investigation ended very quickly. "

"Maybe it was just an accident," he suggested.

"I've tried to make peace with that idea," she replied. "But when Sabrina reached out yesterday, she reignited my suspicions. Her call—her death—they have to be tied to Landon."

"Possibly," he conceded.

"If you can open her phone, then the person who texted her won't be difficult to find. It was probably a friend, maybe someone she worked with."

"Now you're going to tell me how to do my job?"

"In my experience, sometimes law enforcement needs a little help," she said, a bitter note in her voice.

"I was deeply disappointed by the investigation into my brother's death.

The police deferred to the university security team.

It didn't feel like they wanted to find anything.

Westbridge is filled with rich kids with powerful parents, and I always wondered if they were pressured not to come up with anything. "

"That might be true, but from my experience, victims' families usually don't feel the police have done enough. That's often based on emotion more than facts. And it's completely understandable when you've lost someone young and healthy in a shocking and unexpected way."

Angry sparks ran through her eyes. "I've heard that comment before. If that's all you have to say, then you should go."

"I'll go, but we're not done talking." He pulled a card from his wallet. "Do you have a pen?"

She handed him one from the kitchen drawer, and he scribbled a number on the back of the card.

"This is my personal number," he said, handing her the card.

"I know you're going to do your own investigation, because you've clearly already started.

I won't waste my breath telling you to stay out of this, but I would ask you to share what you find.

I would rather work with you than against you. "

"Really? You feel more like an adversary than anything else. I just offered to help, and you shut me down."

"No. You asked questions I couldn't answer, and that will probably continue."

"So, it's a one-way street. I give you information. You give me nothing. Sounds like a bad deal."

"I could make it worse. Let's not forget you stole the victim's phone and ran away from the scene of a crime."

"Are you going to turn me in?" she challenged.

"No, I'm going to hold it over your head," he returned. "If you find out something, you tell me. Otherwise, I will charge you for obstructing a federal investigation."

"Got it." She walked to the door and pointedly opened it.

He moved into the hall, then paused to look back at her. "Whoever killed Sabrina won't hesitate to kill again, Haley. Whatever you do, don't forget that."

Haley locked and bolted the door after he left, then walked over to the table and sat down, her legs shaky after her disturbing conversation with Agent Lawson.

She was lucky he hadn't arrested her, but that could still change if she didn't cooperate.

She didn't have a problem with sharing information, but she preferred that information go both ways, and she wasn't going to wait for him to find answers that he might or might not share with her.

She needed to talk to someone she could trust, someone who had wanted to help her six years ago, but back then, her hands had been tied. Maybe now she could do more.

She sent a text to the old number she had, giving her name and asking if they could meet this morning to talk about Landon, that she might have new information.

She wasn't sure the number was good anymore as she hadn't talked to former Detective Julia Harper in five years.

But she got an answer back several minutes later that Julia would love to see her and could meet her at eleven, if that worked for her.

She set up the meeting at her favorite coffee place, then called her editor at the Sentinel to let her know she'd be in around noon.

Luckily, she'd just completed a series of articles that had required long hours of work, the last of which would be published tomorrow, so she could take a few hours off without feeling guilty.

After changing her clothes, she headed to Culver City, where her favorite café, Grounds Coffee, was located, three blocks away from her office. She'd just gotten coffees for both of them when Julia Harper arrived.

Julia, a tall, fit, dark-haired fifty-year-old, scanned the café with the eagle-eyed efficiency of someone who'd spent twenty years as a homicide detective before retiring five and a half years ago.

Dressed in black slacks and a short-sleeved white sweater, Julia possessed an innate energy and drive that didn't appear to have gone away since she'd left the force and opened her own private investigation firm.

Julia caught her eye, gave her a nod, and sat down across from her.

"I got you a coffee," Haley said. "Strong and black, just the way you used to like it, unless that's changed?"

"It hasn't," Julia said. "It's good to see you, Haley."

"You, too. I wasn't sure you were at the same number. It's been a long time."

"It has. You look tired. Still working night and day in pursuit of truth and justice?"

"Pretty much."