Massey eyed Fisher, who turned to Reynolds. “We received a phone call
from the attorney representing your husband in the divorce.”
“I see. Well, I just received a call from my attorney, and I can
assure you I’m as much in the dark as anyone else about how that money
got into those accounts.”
“Really?” Massey looked at her skeptically. “So you’re saying it’s a
mistake that someone very recently dumped a hundred thousand dollars
into accounts under your children’s names, monies which are solely
controlled by you?”
“I’m saying I don’t know what to think. But I will find out, I can
assure you.”
“The timing, as you can understand, has us deeply troubled,” Massey
said.
“Not as troubled as me. It’s my reputation at stake.”
“Actually, it’s the reputation of the Bureau were concerned about,”
Fisher bluntly pointed out.
Reynolds gave him a cold stare and then looked back at Massey. “I
don’t know what’s going on. Feel free to investigate; I’ve got nothing
to hide.”
Massey glanced down at a file in front of him. “Are you quite certain
of that?”
Reynolds looked at the file. This was a classic interrogation
technique. She had used it herself. Bluff the subject by suggesting
you had incriminating evidence that would catch him in a lie and hope
he’d cave. The only thing was, she didn’t know if Massey was really
bluffing or not. She suddenly knew what it was like to be on the other
side of the interrogation. It wasn’t fun.
“Am I quite certain of what?” she said, buying time.
“That you have nothing to hide?”
“I really resent that question, sir.”
He tapped the file with his index finger. “You know what has deeply
distressed me about Ken Newman’s death? The fact that on the night he
was murdered, he had taken your place. At your instruction. But for
that order, he would be alive today. Would you?”
Reynolds’s face turned red and she stood, towering over Massey. “Are
you accusing me of being involved in Ken’s murder?”
“Please sit down, Agent Reynolds.”
“Are you?”
“I’m saying the coincidence, if it is one, has me concerned.”
“It was a coincidence, since I didn’t happen to know there was someone
waiting there to kill him. If you recall, I showed up almost in time
to stop it.”
“Almost in time. That was convenient. Almost like a built-in alibi. A
coincidence, or perfect timing? Perhaps too perfect timing?” Massey’s
gaze burned into her.
“I was working another case and finished sooner than I thought I would.
Howard Constantinople can corroborate that.”
“Oh, we plan to talk to Connie. You and he are friends, aren’t you?”
“We’re professional colleagues.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t want to say anything that would implicate you in
any way.”
“I’m sure he’ll tell you the truth if you just ask him”
“So you’re saying there is no connection between Ken Newman’s murder
and the money showing up in your account?”
“Let me put it a little more strongly than that. I’m saying it’s all
bullshit! If I were guilty, why would I have anyone put a hundred
grand into one of my accounts so close to the time Ken was killed?
Don’t you think that’s a little obvious?”
“But it wasn’t really your account, was it? It was in your children’s
names. And according to your personnel records, you’re not due for a
Bureau five-year check for another two years. I rather doubt the money
would be in the account at that time, and by then I’m sure you’d have a
good answer in case anyone did discover that money had once been there.
The point is, if your husband’s attorney hadn’t dug it up, no one would
know. That hardly qualifies as obvious.”
“Okay, if it’s not a mistake, then someone is setting me up.”
“And who exactly would be doing that?”
“The person who killed Ken, and who tried to kill Faith Lockhart. Maybe
he’s afraid I’m getting too close.”
“So Danny Buchanan is trying to set you up, is that what you’re
saying?”
Reynolds glanced at the Bureau lawyer and the representative from OPR.
“Do they have clearance to hear this?”
“Your investigation has taken a backseat to these more recent charges,”