Page 70 of Dead Man's List

“It changed locations, month to month,” Veronica said. “That was Brooks’s idea. He didn’t want our targets to be able to go to the cops. Most of them could afford the money we charged. They were all too rich for their own good. Needed to be taken down a peg or two.”

“How do you know they were rich enough to afford your blackmail?”

“Brooks said so. I believed him. He never lied to me.”

“You mentioned that neither of you grew up with a silver spoon. Does that mean you knew him growing up?”

She closed her eyes, then nodded. “Yes.”

“Where?”

Veronica shook her head, for some reason unwilling to share that information.

“Who do you think killed him? Was it over the blackmail list? Or do you think it was his constituents?”

“I don’t know,” Veronica said. “And that’s the truth.”

“That’s a lie,” Kit said quietly. “She’s got to know it was the blackmail list. They tortured him for the location. Unless she did find it, hid it, and is lying to all of us, including the PI. That’s a distinct possibility.”

“It is,” Navarro said. “But you’ll get to the bottom of it. You two make a hell of an investigative team. Add in Sam Reeves, and you’re unstoppable.”

Kit just hoped that was true.

Connor’s shoulders sagged, his exhaustion starting to show. These kinds of interviews were as hard on the cop as they were on the suspect. Well, in different ways. Connor got to go home at the end of the ordeal. Veronica would go to a cell.

“Anything else?” he asked.

Veronica shot him an icy glare. “Isn’t this enough?”

Laura’s sigh sounded defeated. “More than enough. Myclient wishes to go to her cell now. I’ll see you at the arraignment, Veronica. Please don’t say any more.”

“There’s no more to say,” she muttered mournfully.

“Another lie,” Kit murmured. “She knows so much more.”

“Yep,” Navarro agreed. “We’ll keep working on her.”

Connor got up and was at the door when Veronica spoke again. “Detective, have you found his car? The Ferrari?”

“No. Why?”

“I left a bracelet in the glove box. It was my mother’s. Nothing expensive. Just…sentimental value. I’d like to get it back.”

“If we find it, I’ll check.” Connor left the interview room and joined them in observation. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, dropping into a chair.

“Nicely done,” Kit said.

Joel squeezed Connor’s shoulder. “What she said.”

Connor closed his eyes. “I need a nap.”

Kit had to smile. He sounded three years old. “Go crash. I’ll do a summary and pull together our next steps.”

San Diego PD, San Diego, California

Monday, January 9, 8:15 p.m.

“Hey.”

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