Page 128 of Trace of Doubt
“John, we’ve come to an agreement,” Marissa said. “Are you ready to address the details?”
“Let’s order another bottle of wine and make a toast first.”
Marissa slid into her chair. “We’ll toast when there’s reason to celebrate.”
“What are the stipulations?” John massaged his temples. “I have a horrible headache. Feel sick.” His body twitched and convulsed.
I scooted back my chair and attempted to stand, but Marissa grabbed my arm. “Where are you going?”
“He needs help.” The words left my mouth the instantmurderbannered across my mind.
John’s face fell onto the table, his mouth agape with white foam oozing out.
“Feng, would you contact the manager.” Marissa showed no more emotion than what I’d seen when she killed the agent. “I think John’s proposal just expired.”
77
DENTON
I couldn’t get to Miami’s FBI office fast enough. Mike and I grabbed our tagged bags before leaving the airport in Miami and hailed a taxi.
Our phones fired a notification at the same time. Never a good sign or I’d allowed my poor attitude to call the shots.
I read the info from FBI Houston’s office.
FBI arrests Shelby Pearce for the murder of John Rudder. Evidence linked to cyanide poisoning.
Mike cursed. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
I stopped along the hallway leading to the car rental exit and pressed in ASAC Leonard’s number. The guy annoyed me, but he had answers. “What’s the deal with Shelby?”
“I’ll send you and Mike what we have. Your Ms. Innocent was the last person with Rudder. A server says she gave him her glass of wine, which we’ve learned had been laced with cyanide.”
“Where did this happen?”
“Stage7 in Miami. Marissa Stover and Feng Liu were with them. According to Stover and Feng, they excused themselves from a private dining area to chat, leaving Shelby alone with the victim. When the two returned, Rudder showed immediate signs of poisoning.”
“Two suspected kingpins in money laundering and drugs are valid witnesses?”
“They are when evidence points to an ex-con committing another murder. As far as I’m concerned, all three are guilty, but your girl has the least going for her.”
“This has setup smeared across it. We’re on our way to the Miami office.” I slid my phone into my pant pocket while informing Mike of the conversation.
Miami’s FBI proved more cooperative. Agent Kyle Van Dyke, Lance Mason’s partner, met with Mike and me. Van Dyke, barely out of his twenties, reminded me of myself years back.
“Ms. Pearce has been cooperative. She gave us a clear picture of what might have happened. What are the chances her sister learned she’s an informant?”
“High. Shelby’s not trained and believes her room’s bugged. Marissa claimed Aria was picked up to keep Shelby in line.” I fought the tension in my neck and shoulders. “We have no evidence other than Shelby witnessed Agent Mason’s murder.”
“When I interviewed her, she requested a polygraph.” Van Dyke pointed to a file in front of him. “We conducted the test, and no indications of deceit were present.”
Mike cleared his throat. “I assume you’re letting her go, but what’s the point of sending her back to her sister? So far she hasn’t been able to access any evidence that leads to Marissa’s criminal activities.”
“She’s asked for more time.” Agent Van Dyke observed me as though he knew of my feelings for her.
“I’m not surprised,” I said. “She has stubborn tenacity, and now her niece has been thrown into the fire.”
“Before we bring her back into the interview and discuss how to proceed, we’ve uncovered more information on Rudder. Some of the generic auto parts he purchases from Liu have made him a little cash. He slaps big-name packaging labels on the auto parts and sells them to make him a hefty profit. That conviction would have cost him, but we’ve been holding out for the big payoff.”
