Best Laid Plans(97)
“Yes, he will,” Barry said. “Unless he cooperates.”
“I’ll file charges of harassment.”
“Go ahead,” Barry said. “I will remind you that it’s a crime to lie to a federal agent.”
Everett’s whole body sagged like air from a balloon. “This can’t be happening,” he said. “She said she was eighteen!”
Lucy said, “Her ID was a fake. Or did you even bother to check?”
“If my client is being blackmailed, then he’s the victim,” Shaw said.
“And we’re willing to drop all charges if he cooperates,” Barry said. “Who’s blackmailing you, Mr. Everett?”
“I don’t know!” he said with a half sob. “I haven’t even seen the pictures. I—I got a voice recording Monday night. My voice. They sent a note that said to wait for instructions, to tell no one. I—I—” He glanced at his attorney. “I’m already helping the FBI on another matter.”
Shaw stared at him, surprised. “James.”
“I couldn’t tell anyone—they told me I couldn’t, or they wouldn’t give me immunity,” Everett said. “But I told my FBI contact about the recording, and he didn’t think it was important. He said everything would soon be resolved, and if the blackmailer contacted me again to let him know.”
Lucy wondered if Logan Dunbar had that information before or after his meeting at the FBI office. If he had known, what else was he holding back from them? If he hadn’t known then, why hadn’t he informed Juan as soon as Everett told him? His lack of cooperation angered Lucy—she expected better from a colleague.
Barry said, “We know that you’re a confidential informant for the FBI in the investigation of Adeline Reyes-Worthington.”
Everett’s eyes practically bulged out of his head. “No one is supposed to know!”
“San Antonio is our jurisdiction,” Barry said, leaving it at that. “We need the voice recording. Now.”
Everett hesitated, then opened his bottom desk drawer and pulled out a microrecorder.
Barry put on gloves and picked it up. He pressed play.
“You’re late,” Everett’s voice said.
“I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” It was a young female whom Lucy recognized as Elise. There were sounds of sex in the background—moaning and slapping—and it took a second for Lucy to recognize that Everett had a porn video on the television. Elise said, “You want me to do that to you?”
“I want a lot of things. How old are you?”
“How old do you want me to be?”
“Legal.”
“I’m legal.”
“You look younger.”
There was silence for a long minute, except for the porn in the background, then the sound of rustling, then a glass being put firmly down on a table.
“I picked this hotel because the walls are thick, and I want to hear you. Understand?” Everett said.
“Yes. I need the money first.”
Again, movement and noise. Paper. A drawer? Maybe not.
“What do you want me to call you?” Elise asked.
“Call me Daddy. And I’m going to spank you. Hard.”
“Spank me, Daddy.”
Lucy jumped when she heard the hard slap on flesh.
“All fours, little girl, I’m going to f*ck you hard,” Everett said on the tape. The sound of his hand slapping her echoed. “Tell me you want it hard.”
“I want it hard, Daddy.”
Barry shut the tape off. Lucy couldn’t look at anyone. She felt dirty just listening to the tape. Memories threatened to flood her, violent memories. She couldn’t go there. She had to control her emotions, control her feelings. Be the ice princess she’d been in college. Be the rock she’d been when she and Barry left the car twenty minutes ago. She felt every shield slide back into place. She first caught the lawyer’s eye. Then Everett’s. Every muscle tightened and froze.
Lucy said, “What did they say they wanted from you, Mr. Everett?” Her voice was low and calm. Too calm. But that was the price to stave off the past.
“I don’t know! I swear! They said to wait and they’d tell me. It’s probably money. It’s always about money, right?”
“We’ll keep this. And if they contact you again, call me immediately,” Barry said.
“What if they’re keeping tabs on me? If they have my phone tapped? If it’s someone I know?”
Barry wrote a number on the back of a business card. “This is a generic number, can’t be traced to the FBI. Call it, and the switchboard will connect you with me wherever I am.”
Everett stared at the number. “What about my other arrangement? I was promised immunity.”
“Most FBI deals are for immunity for past crimes. Am I incorrect in assuming that extends to your arrangement?”
Everett didn’t say anything.
“Do you understand?” Barry asked.
“Yes,” Everett said quietly. “I understand completely.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Because Mona’s profession required her to work nights, she had the luxury of sleeping in every morning. Her bedroom had blackout curtains that blocked any sunshine that threatened to creep in and disturb her beauty sleep. But rarely did she sleep past eleven in the morning, and Wednesday was no exception.