Page 84 of Dead Man's List

Laura just shook her head. “Does anyone ever believe you? That is the biggest sack of lies I’ve ever heard spewed.”

The woman was trying to get a rise out of her. “I might lie when the need arises, Miss Letterman, but I’m telling the truth now, and you know it. If Mr.Neal cooperates, he can at least partially salvage his financial situation and hopefully retain custody of his children.” She turned her gaze on the pilot. “You pay your child support on time. You fought for custody.” Which she didn’t know but felt comfortable guessing. “You must love your children, sir. I’m not going to tell you that you won’t serve any jail time. That’s not mine to promise, one way or another. That’s the prosecutor’s job. I will tell you that helping us identify the man in this photo will only help your chances of getting out of this with the least possible disruption to your life—or the lives of your daughters.”

Steven had paled even further. “He’ll kill me.”

“Who?” Laura asked, suddenly concerned. “The man in this photo?”

Steven nodded, his swallow audible.

“Then it’s best if you help us catch him, isn’t it?” Kit asked, keeping the sarcasm out of her tone, even though she felt it in her mind. “If you don’t, eventually you’ll get out and you’ll be looking over your shoulder forever.”

Steven scrubbed his palms over his face. “Damned if I do tell you and damned if I don’t.”

“More damned if you don’t,” Connor snapped.

“He’s right,” Kit said. “Look, you flew Veronica Fitzgerald out of the country knowing she held a fake passport. You had to have known. You knew she was carrying a lot of cash. If she’s found guilty of money laundering—which I’m certain she will be, considering she was carrying over two hundred thousand dollars in cash yesterday—then you could be charged as a co-conspirator. Altogether, you’re talking about a potentially long time behind bars. We need this man’s name.” She tapped the mug shot. “Now.”

“Or you might not see your kids again,” Connor said quietly, but his voice was sterner than Kit had ever heard it. “Or, if you do, it’ll be through a plexiglass window on visitation day. Is that how you want them to see you, Steven?”

Steven’s jaw tightened, and his eyes filled with tears. “No,” he whispered.

“There’s also the issue of whatever drug has you in withdrawal right now,” Kit went on. “We can try to get you some help. Your situation is still salvageable, Steven. Work with us here.”

Steven closed his eyes, sending tears streaking down his cheeks. “Miss Letterman? What should I do?”

Kit felt a small morsel of sympathy. The man had no priors that they knew of. He really might have gotten in over his head. But she couldn’t afford sympathy now.

Kit met Laura’s gaze directly. “You know we’re right. Tell him.”

Laura looked away on a sigh. “I won’t let him tell you anything until I have an agreement in writing from the DA.”

Kit pushed away from the table. “Of course.”

Chapter Ten

New Horizons, San Diego, California

Tuesday, January 10, 4:10 p.m.

Sam looked up from his paperwork at the knock on the doorframe of the New Horizons office he shared with some of the other volunteers. “Sheila. What can I do for you?”

Sheila Sunley came into his office, two cups of coffee in hand. “I needed a pick-me-up, so I got you one, too.”

The pint-sized dynamo was the director of New Horizons. Very few teenagers could resist her bubbly personality.

Sam accepted the coffee with a grateful smile. “I feel like I’ve read these pages ten times already and I still can’t tell you what they say.”

The stack of papers was part of a new state policy governing nonprofit therapy groups. It was written in legalese, which Sam could usually parse. But his mind was elsewhere today.

He had another date with Kit on Saturday night.

Sheila nodded at the pages in his hand. “I had the same problem. That’s why I handed them over to you.”

“Gee, thanks,” he said dryly.

“You’re welcome,” she chirped. “I do have other news for you, and I guarantee that your ‘thank you’ will be far more sincere.”

Sam sat up straighter. “Hit me.”

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