Page 69 of Justice for Francesca

Ortiz shrugged. “They worked together. Maybe he had a grievance with her there. Maybe she rejected his advances. Maybe he was embezzling, and she caught him, so he had to silence her. Who knows? That will come out during the interview, I’m sure.”

“Do you even hear what you’re saying? You’re grasping at the weakest of unsubstantiated and made-up theories. I get that he doesn’t have an alibi for any of the murders. I get that it looks bad that he was found in Sequeira’s home, that I was attacked while we were both there, that he admits to seeing Moll and then dragging a coffin-size crate into the club where Moll waslater found. But none of these murders make sense given the character reports given of Michael Murphy, and there are still way too many variables to work with!”

“I don’t understand, Frankie. You’ve always been the biggest opponent of innocence when it comes to your family. Why, suddenly, are you backpedaling regarding your brother?”

“Because none of this makes sense!” Francesca stood from her seat and crossed to the office door. She turned to face her boss. “There are still too many pieces left dangling. I will admit the timing and circumstances of Michael’s apartment videos are suggestive, but neither of those makes him a murderer. And while I have no love for my family as a whole, Michael was like me and always rejected their ways.

“Yes, he has no alibi for any of the murders, but neither do a lot of other people. Cosmos has no alibi for Jessa, Tilly, or my attack. Triumph has no alibis for those, plus no alibi for Mila. Tripoli has no alibi for Jessa’s murder. And I won’t even begin to list all the employees and patrons, plus other outside options we’d barely begun to investigate. I don’t see you hauling any of those people in here for questioning, nor do I hear anyone spinning wild tales as to why those other people might have wanted those women dead. Christ, we don’t even have a link between the murders at all except that everyone who died was attached to Elysium!” Francesca was reduced to begging. “And don’t you dare start spouting how maybe Michael has become sort of a serial killer and started whacking women he works with. That’s not how serial killers work, and you know that.”

Francesca put her hand to the doorknob. “You need to close this case, and you’re willing to use my relationship with Michael to make it happen. Michael is a convenient answer to a problem. Not the problem of three dead women, but the problem of what comes out when an agent everyone believes to be textbook perfect is suddenly outed as a rule breaker. That path leads tothe real killer going free and an innocent man accepting a death sentence.”

Clearing her throat, Ortiz folded her hands in front of her on top of her desk. “Michael will confess to the murders before the day is out. I’m certain of it.” The expression on Ortiz’s face clouded over. “As to your withdrawal from the case, given your vehemence here, it appears there’s no other choice but to agree to that now.” She turned to her computer and began pulling up the appropriate form to file the report. “You’re dismissed. I’ll let the Dallas office know to expect you tomorrow.”

None of this made any sense. Francesca looked down at the floor. Was this it? Was this the moment? She needed to slow things down. Think this through. Something was so wrong here, and if she didn’t figure it out, Michael was going to pay the price.

She called out before her brain registered what she was doing. “Ma’am, since I’m somehow not suspended, I’d like to take some time off. I’ve never taken a day off in my entire time at the bureau. I’d like to use my annual leave.”

Looking up from the computer, fingers poised over the keyboard, Ortiz considered Francesca’s request. With a short exhaled breath, her lips pursed, she turned her eyes back to the computer monitor. “Perhaps that would be better. I can start the paperwork for you. How much time?”

“All of it.”

Now the woman looked surprised. “All of it?”

“Yes. Effective immediately.”

The expression on Ortiz’s face showed her making a decision. “Very well. Might I suggest you take a vacation. Go somewhere away from home and people you know. Perhaps a… a rest would be good for you, away from FBI cases.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” With a quick nod of her head, Francesca opened the door and exited to the hustle and bustle of the main room.

21

MISDIRECTION

Francesca

Once outside of Ortiz’s office, Francesca glanced around. She noticed Calder coming into the bullpen with several file folders. He jerked his head to the right, signaling he wanted her to meet him in the conference room.

As soon as she entered the room, he handed her copies of his most recent medical reports. “I texted Cruz. He’s finishing up with Tripoli. Final reports on Jessa mirror Mila and preliminary findings on Tilly, with one exception.” He played with a corner of a piece of paper sticking out of one of the folders he brought into the room. “You okay?”

She stared at him. Her initial impulse was to spout the usual response. Instead, she found herself confessing the truth. “No. Not even close.” For some reason, she felt lighter. Was this what it was like to have people you could confide in? People you could call friends?

“I’m sorry. It had to be rough finding her like that.”

Releasing a shuddering breath, Francesca paged through the report Calder had handed her. “Rougher for Tilly being disposed of like that.” She looked up at him. “Sorry. While that may be true, you were concerned about me, and I shouldn’t have said it.”

“I should be the one apologizing, Frankie. I have a tendency to say things, and sometimes they come out wrong. I blame it on the fact that I can say whatever I want to the bodies in my morgue because they don’t talk back. Not out loud anyway.”

“No real offense taken,” she assured him.

“Who’s offending who?” Cruz entered, shut the door behind him, and exhaled long and hard. Immediately, he loosened his tie and unbuttoned his sleeves. “If anyone should be offended, it should be me. Thanks for making my day harder, Frankie,” he grumbled. “Nothing like interviewing your brother and your lover on the same day.”

“You know me. The eternal people pleaser.”

Calder stared at her. Cruz stopped mid-sleeve roll.

“Did you just crack a joke?” Calder asked.

“I definitely heard sarcasm,” Cruz commented.

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