Best Laid Plans(93)

“Mona stopped using her real identity and created a new one.”

“Yes—but eight years ago, a month before the house was purchased, Ramona Jefferson died.”

Sean’s heart skipped a beat. “For real?”

“No. On paper only. I swear, you owe me big-time because I could have lost my PI license.”

“You’re retired.”

“Well, I still have my license. It doesn’t expire until the end of the year.”

“So?”

“There’s a death certificate filed in Los Angeles County, California, for Ramona Jefferson. But it’s a forgery.”

It took Sean a minute to process that. “You mean that Mona inserted a death certificate into the system? How the hell?”

“Oh, I’m sure you could find a way.”

“That’s me.”

“If someone pulled it, it wouldn’t hold scrutiny. There was no body, no police report, no burial. But on the surface, it seems legit. So I went to Darlene’s neighborhood this morning, after she left with her son, and through one of her nosy neighbors I learned that Darlene’s older sister died and left her a trust, which paid for the house and her college education.”

Very interesting.

“There’s one more thing you should know.”

“I’m still processing everything you’ve already told me.”

“Everything you told me about Mona’s family was true—her mother was a drug addict, petty theft, drug sales. A real waste case. In and out of prison. The kids, Ramona and Darlene, were often left on their own for days or weeks, but when their mother went to prison for three years, when Darlene was four, Darlene was put into foster care and had a rough time. Records are closed, but I have my ways. Ramona, then thirteen, disappeared. The mom got out, reclaimed Darlene, and proceeded to go down the same path. Ramona may or may not have been around—I’d have to dig a little more. But a friend of mine, a retired cop who worked that beat, said the mom was a piece of work. Used the kid as a mule. The mom overdosed a couple years later—and it was nasty, from what the reports show. I can’t get you a copy because my contact at HPD was squeamish about sharing. But Darlene was then sent back to foster care. Lucky for her, she got in with a good family, the Hatchers. She legally changed her name when she was eighteen.”

“And what about the boy’s father?”

“Nothing. I could probably dig around some more, but she was eighteen when she had him. That makes me think that it was a high school romance.”

“Don’t dig. Yet. But if you can send me what you know about the Hatchers, I’ll consider following up if I need to.”

“The girl had it rough growing up, but she seems to have her life in order now. It’s not easy being a single mom, but she’s never had to worry about money or a place to live, which makes it a whole lot easier. She goes to church on Sunday and the kid plays baseball and has friends. They seem very normal.”

Sean didn’t want to disrupt their lives.

But Mona Hill had threatened Lucy.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” he lied. He thanked Renee and disconnected the call.

Of course he knew what he needed to do. Sean aimed to find out just how much of a soft spot Mona Hill had for her half sister.

He turned back to his secure laptop. Mona Hill had checked her email last night. His worm had traveled through her system, and he mirrored her hard drive on his own computer. He was searching only for one file.

It didn’t take him long to find it. It was the last video file that had been viewed. In fact, a short clip had been copied and saved two days ago. He hesitated, then viewed it.

His heart nearly stopped. It was Lucy. Naked and chained to the floor.

He shut it down.

Rage exploded. He jumped out of his chair. It tipped backward and knocked over the books stacked on the shelf behind him. He barely noticed. He stormed out of the room, slamming his door so hard the wood cracked. Down the hall to his gym, where he hit the punching bag over and over until his fists were sore. A groan escaped his throat and he wanted to kill Mona Hill in the worst way. He wanted to hurt her. What she did for her sister—with her illegal money—might be considered noble to some, but she’d stepped on many, many people to do it.

She’d f*cked with the wrong person.

A fraction calmer, but no less angry, Sean went back to his office. He deleted all the video files from her computer. He was about to install a nasty virus when he hesitated.

Why had she created that clip?

Sean searched her emails. The clip was attached to an email that had gone to a blind account that Mona Hill had sent on Monday afternoon—the same day that Lucy and her partner had spoken to her. Lucy’s gut instinct about Mona had been right, and Mona had then parlayed her knowledge … for what? To whom?

Sean pulled down all the routing information on the blind account. Everything was traceable given enough time and equipment. And desire.

He certainly had the desire.

Then he installed a nasty virus that would obliterate Mona’s hard drive and any device that connected to it. But even if he destroyed the virtual files, she might have a copy of the video on a disk. He needed to find and destroy it, too.

He erased his cache, reformatted his hard drive, shut everything down, and locked his laptop back in the safe. He’d rebuild the computer later.