Livia Lone (Livia Lone #1)(87)

Livia glanced at MacKinnon and made the okay sign with her thumb and forefinger.

“I don’t like this,” MacKinnon said, again playing it grudgingly.

“Neither do I, Becky. It’s probably just some crank who wants to hurt us. I’ll be out there in a few days and we’ll figure it all out. And . . . it’ll be good to see you. It’s been too long.”

MacKinnon clicked off.

Livia glanced at the phone to confirm the connection had been broken, then looked at MacKinnon. “You were great, Becky.”

MacKinnon nodded, then started shaking again.

“I know,” Livia said. “I know. But you were great. Completely convincing.”

MacKinnon leaned over and nuzzled the dog’s head. “We’re okay, girl,” she said. “We’re okay. We’re okay.”

A moment passed while she collected herself. Then she straightened and said, “Can you be away for three days?”

“No,” Livia said. “But I can get back easily enough.”

But what she was thinking was, Bangkok.

There was one more thing she needed. Instinct had told her she should wait to bring it up, wait until MacKinnon had first taken some concrete action, like calling her brother. Then what came next would seem a smaller leap. But still . . . it would be a leap.

“The problem is,” Livia said, “I don’t think he’s going to tell me what I need to know unless I have some leverage.”

MacKinnon’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve dealt with a lot of suspects. Hundreds. And there are various ways you can get someone to cooperate, if you have a knack for these things. If you had a good mentor, like I did. But with someone like your brother . . . I can’t just ask. I need something to threaten him with.”

MacKinnon shook her head, apparently sensing where this was going, and not liking it at all. “You said you would tell him you tricked me. Pretended to be a reporter. That he would never know I helped you.”

“Yes, I did. And I could do it that way. But what’s really going to get his attention is you and me working together. Two of his victims, with no connection between them other than his crimes, corroborating each other’s stories.”

“No. Absolutely not. You told me. You promised.”

“And I’ll keep that promise. But Becky, if we do this right, it will never come out. The threat will be enough.”

“And what about his threat to me? And my family? And if you’re going to tell me next that you’ll protect us, please, just spare me. I wouldn’t believe you now anyway.”

There was a long pause. The request had been just the opening, and Livia hadn’t expected it to be decisive. Now she had to close.

“Becky. Ophelia did everything she could to protect you. She died trying to protect you.” She paused, then went on. “You can keep faith now with what Ophelia did. With who she was. You can protect someone, too. My sister. Nason. Please.”

MacKinnon shook her head. “No. I told you, no.”

But Livia knew what it felt like when a suspect’s defenses were wavering. It felt like what she was seeing now in MacKinnon’s face, and hearing in her tone.

“She protected you,” Livia said. “And you can never pay that back. But wouldn’t she want you to pay it forward? By protecting someone else?”

“I am protecting someone else. My family.”

“Ezra is your brother. He’s not the bogeyman. And you’re not that little girl anymore. You’re strong. You’re a survivor. Don’t let him control you with fear. Stand up to him, Becky. The way Ophelia did.”

As it had before, MacKinnon’s expression wavered between fear and determination. Then it dissolved and she started crying again. “He killed her.”

“Yes. And you had no choice but to let him get away with it. But now you do have a choice. You have a weapon. Me. Use it.”

That was it. There was nothing more to say. There was nothing to do but wait.

A minute went by. Then another.

Finally, MacKinnon said, “If your sister is alive, and Ezra tells you where she is, you’ll be able to help her.”

“Yes.”

“And if she’s . . . not alive . . .”

“Then I’ll deal with that.”

MacKinnon nodded. “But you don’t want a scandal any more than I do.”

“That’s right.”

“You want to threaten him with exposure. And if the threat works, then you don’t actually need to expose him. It’s something like . . . you’re pointing a gun at him. And if he complies, you don’t actually need to fire.”

“Yes. That’s exactly what it’s like.”

“But then we’ll have protected your sister. Or at least found out what happened to her. But we won’t have done anything to protect the other girls my brother has victimized. The victims yet to come.”

For the second time that afternoon, Livia felt she’d been hit by a judo throw she hadn’t seen coming.

“So,” MacKinnon continued. “What are we going to do to protect them?”

Livia said nothing.

“I’ll help you,” MacKinnon said. “You can tell my brother we’re working together. Tell him we’ll both testify, go to the media, whatever. And if he thinks you’re exaggerating, or bluffing, or making the whole thing up, and he calls me, I swear to you I will back up everything you say.”