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Jacqueline pointed to where Alex’s board was now hidden by the divider. “I don’t mean to pry, but did I see Byron Zell’s photo?”
Alex shook her head. “You did. But I don’t know, it’s just this strange thing I found.”
“Want to tell me about it?”
Alex smiled. “Not really.”
Jacqueline returned the smile. “Let’s get to work?”
“Yes.”
Alex took a deep breath.
“Okay, so Laura McAllister’s story was going to cover alleged rapes committed by members of the Delta Chi fraternity. Although only one incidence of sexual assault was reported to the police, Laura had uncovered several other victims who were willing to speak about their ordeal. Nowhere in Laura’s story was Matthew Claymore mentioned. But what you’ll be most interested in is that Laura uncovered strong evidence that the girl who filed the police report believed that Duncan Chadwick raped her.”
“Larry Chadwick’s son?”
“Yes. That’s why they created such a spectacle with the press conference that essentially broke the scandal.”
“Rather than allowing Laura to drop her story, they tried to defuse things by getting out in front of it.”
“Exactly. And it goes without saying that Judge Chadwick had a lot to lose if a story about rape that involves his son went mainstream. So we have an angle there, and that’s what you told me to find. We have someone with motive to keep Laura’s story quiet.”
“Accusing a sitting judge about to be nominated to the Supreme Court is risky.”
“Not Judge Chadwick, but his son.”
“Take me through your theory,” Jacqueline said.
“My information comes from getting my hands on Laura’s story. I listened to the episode she was going to drop. Here’s what I know. A girl was raped at a Delta Chi party after she drank punch spiked with the date-rape drug dubbed Liquid G. She took all the correct measures—went to the hospital, had a rape kit performed on her, and filed a police report. There’s proof that she was at the fraternity party that night with Duncan Chadwick: a friend of hers has photos of the two of them together. Laura McAllister got tipped off about the rape through an e-mail and started investigating. She found witnesses who said they saw Duncan and the girl together that night. The friend, a girl named Ashley Holms, went to another Delta Chi party two weeks after the rape and got a drink from the bar, which she smuggled out of the party. She and Laura had it tested to confirm that Liquid G was present. Laura started to compile all of this evidence for her story, including the ways the university was working to keep the details quiet. But then bits of the story started to leak. Duncan heard that he was about to be named in the scandal. The following day the Chadwicks held a press conference where Duncan Chadwick played the role of a concerned and outraged classmate, rescinded his Delta Chi membership, and promised to work with the police in any way possible.”
Jacqueline nodded her head. “Damn fine investigative work, Alex. Well done.” Jacqueline stood. “Can you put all the details together in a brief for me, with names of sources?”
“I’ll get right on it.”
“I’m heading to see Matthew now. He knows enough not to say a word until I’m there. And if they don’t have something more substantial than a backpack, they’re not going to be able to keep him detained.”
“I’ve got a source inside the Washington, D.C. detective bureau. I can reach out to see how credible the backpack angle is.”
“Perfect. Do that,” Jacqueline said. “And I’ll keep you posted if I learn anything new on my end. Police are being tight-lipped at the moment, but they’ll have no choice but to tell me everything if they hope to keep Matthew in custody. We’ll talk soon.”
With a wave of her hand Jacqueline was through the door and gone. Alex stood alone in her condo. Along with the silence came a sense of hopelessness. Despite the pressing matters of the Matthew Claymore case, Alex walked into the dining room, pulled the divider to the side, and stood in front of her board. Jacqueline’s words were kind, but Alex had seen the sorrow in her boss’s eyes when Jacqueline realized that, ten years after the murder of her family, Alex was still looking for answers that would likely never come.
Her efforts felt suddenly futile, and Alex wondered how long she could go before she admitted to herself that she’d reached a dead end years ago. And that no matter how skilled a legal investigator she was, her talents fell far short of being able to discover any trail that might lead to her family’s killer.
CHAPTER 48
Washington, D.C. Saturday, April 29, 2023 11:35 a.m.
CLAUSTROPHOBIA DESCENDED OVER ALEX’S CONDO AFTER HER meeting with Jacqueline, so she headed to a coffee shop on the corner, The Perfect Cup. She wouldn’t agree that their Americanos were perfect, but the coffeehouse was the best she’d found in the area. Syrupy drinks only peripherally related to coffee were written in marshmallow letters on a chalkboard on the wall behind the bar. Alex ordered a slow-poured Americano, found a seat at a tall table for two, and pulled out her phone. She started writing a text to Hank Donovan. It had been a couple of hours since she’d left the detective bellied-up to the bar at Benjamin’s, and one of two things had likely happened since then: Hank had continued to order drinks and was still at the bar and drunk as a skunk or he was asleep at home. Both situations meant she was unlikely to hear from him anytime soon. And the fact that Laura McAllister’s body had been discovered early that morning meant Hank would be oblivious to the details. His shift had ended by then, and he’d count himself lucky that the call had gone to another detective. Still, Hank was her only contact inside the Washington PD, and even if he wasn’t working the Laura McAllister case, he’d have access to it. It was at least worth a text message to find out.
She pressed SEND just as someone sat down across from her. Alex looked up from her phone.
“Hi,” the woman said.
Alex spoke with a wrinkled brow. “Can I help you?”
“Maybe. My name’s Annette Packard. I work for the FBI.”
