Say It Again (First Wives, #5)(65)

Brigitte licked her lips. “I already know your biggest secret.”



They holed up in a hotel that night just outside DC, combing over Amelia’s computer. Sasha uploaded images to Neil to see if any of the faces in her many pictures could be traced back to Richter.

AJ found himself taking notes, watching the ways information moved in and out of Sasha’s brain like a computer. Her hyperfocus when on task was impressive. There was a point when the glow of Amelia’s laptop lit up her face and she muttered in Russian. She dug a little deeper in the files, smiled, nodded, and went at it again. Outside of a gun being cocked, AJ didn’t think anything would take her off task.

By the time she looked up from the computer it was one in the morning. “Your sister was good,” she’d told him.

AJ crawled up next to her on the king-size bed and looked down at the computer, which was in some kind of green screen mode. “Oh?”

“I finally cracked her security. I’m uploading all her files to Cooper, let him do the legwork on this while we’re at your parents’.”

“You think there’s something to find?”

“She put up a lot of firewalls. I doubt she was just trying to hide her porn habit.”

He cringed.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Not really.

“Everyone has secrets, AJ. Even if it’s just kink. Maybe she liked being able to keep her files hidden. Use a skill Richter taught her in her private life that she didn’t use in her professional life.”

“Or maybe my sister had a reason for someone to murder her.”

Sasha kept silent, his words a shout in his ear.

“If you know something, you need to tell me.”

“I’m not going to burden you with suspicion. That invites pain.”

“There’s something.” He could see it in her eyes.

“Nothing concrete.”

“Sasha?”

“There’s a lot of firewalls. That’s all. Maybe by this time tomorrow we’ll know more. Right now, I’m curious as to why an analyst for the UN would need this much cloak-and-dagger. We have hidden surveillance in her home and someone catching her messages and keeping her answering machine from clogging up. It points to something.”

“Not to mention she’s dead. Why would someone need to clear her messages if she’s dead?” AJ asked himself more than Sasha.

“Exactly. They’re waiting for a message . . .”

“From someone who doesn’t know she’s gone.”

“Perhaps. Or someone who wants to throw us off.” Sasha ran a hand through her dark hair. Her wig had long since made its way to the side of the bed. “More questions than answers, but we’re on the tip of something.”

“Why isn’t my father looking closer?” This was so obvious to him from day one, why not to his father?

“How do you know he isn’t? He could have placed the taps.”

AJ didn’t see it.

“You have to consider every possibility. Everyone is a suspect.”

“My father didn’t kill my sister.”

Sasha hesitated.

AJ’s heart dropped hard.

“You both have trust funds, right? You and your sister? Grandmother’s money, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Did your sister have a will?”

He blinked.

“I’m guessing since she wasn’t married and didn’t have children, the answer to that is no. Which means the money reverted back to her parents. Your parents. Uncontested, your sister’s accounts will be pushed through in six to eight months. The first place the authorities look when a murder has taken place is who has a motive. Money is a great motivator.”

“It’s not that much,” AJ said.

“Four million dollars isn’t chump change, AJ.”

“How do you know how much we were given?”

“I know the name of the arresting officer when you were caught stealing a car.”

He paused.

“Most people can live their entire lives without working a day on that kind of money. Amelia had a good paying job, invested her money. Her accounts had grown. Now all of that is in someone else’s pocket.”

“My parents didn’t kill my sister for her money.” His back stiffened.

“I didn’t say they did. I’m saying you need to be open to all possibilities in order to see the evidence as it unfolds. If your sister had left the money to you, you’d be a suspect.”

AJ felt instantly thankful Amelia hadn’t felt the need to write up a will. He shook his head, leaned back against the headboard. “What an exhausting way to live.”

“Thinking everyone is after you? Everyone has a motive to do harm? Yeah . . . it is.”

He rolled his head to the side, took in Sasha’s profile. In that moment he saw a sadness he hadn’t seen in her before. “Tell me something about you that no one else knows.”

Confusion marked her brow. “What?”

“Anything.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to know you better.”

She cocked her head to the side as if contemplating whether or not to answer him.