Page 67 of The Wedding Party

He’s just driving in the knife. I do not like this part of my job—the death, the pain. “I don’t see anything about your suspicions in relation to Carrie in the files.”

“Of course not. The family’s wealthy. I had boatloads of pressure to leave it alone. You know going after a rich kid isn’t a good way for a DA to get reelected.”

We end the call, every word of the exchange sitting like rocks in my belly.

My mother was killed by a man who was late to work and ran a red light. Losing her still torments me, as it does my father. The driver went to jail for manslaughter but not for long enough. The driver who killed Carrie’s brother did not, but he will never forget being behind the wheel of the vehicle that killed a little boy. I’m sure Carrie’s parents have suffered plenty. But has Carrie?

I dial Carrie’s parents’ attorney and get sent to voicemail. I leave a message. “Let’s talk about Carrie’s brother,” I say. “Call me back.”

Obviously, he listens to the message but chooses to text his response: Don’t go that low. And if you even bring this up to the parents and open that wound, they’ll sue.

In other words, I’m getting nowhere with this lead, but it’s ammunition the DA can use during the trial to stir the jury’s emotions. Now I just have to ensure that trial happens.

My cellphone rings with Aiden’s number. I stand up and, without excusing myself from the rest of my team, exit the room and enter the hallway.

“Hey,” I greet him. “You read the agreement?” I shut the door behind me.

“I did,” he confirms. “I think it’s a win for us even if Carrie’s team thinks it’s a win for hers. We’re building a case. On that note, I expect to have the warrants for Carrie and Oliver’s home and offices. His office was tricky. The Phoenixes have a lot of power. Getting a judge that didn’t fear them was no easy task.”

“I’m gathering that,” I say dryly.

“A good reason to just get the searches done quickly, but how do you feel about the timeline? Do you want us to roll with those or wait on you? When are you coming back?”

“If the doctor approves it,” I say, “tomorrow afternoon, but as much as I want to be there, don’t wait. I don’t want to give Oliver’s or Carrie’s parents a chance to tamper with anything beforehand.”

“We can lock down the locations if you really want to be here,” he offers.

“No,” I say, but having already discussed the case with Aiden in detail early this morning, I add, “I want evidence sooner than later, and I’m hoping like hell you find that box I told you about.”

“That would be interesting,” he says. “I’ll take a look myself as well during the searches. And I’ve got a team here helping Hazel dig for dirt anywhere we can find it.”

“Let me know before you do the searches,” I say. “Since I’d like as much cooperation as possible, I’ll give Carrie’s attorney and Oliver’s parents a short heads-up just before you do.”

“That works,” he agrees. “We can go into the Phoenixes’ business discreetly, in plain clothes.”

“Echoing your words,” I reply, “that works. I’ll let them know.”

“How are you doing on getting an interview with Carrie?” he asks.

“Nowhere. I told you the doctor’s protecting her.”

“Sounds to me like someone is paying him off,” he comments.

“Maybe,” I say. “Or it could just be that the doctor relates to Carrie in ways that aren’t exactly healthy. I know he’s a former addict. He’s defensive of her. She’s personal to him. I don’t think this is about money to him.”

“Don’t underestimate the power behind the Phoenixes’ excess of money,” he says. “They clearly don’t trust us to conduct this investigation. And we can assume they not only want to break her for us, they believe they have someone in that treatment center that will make it happen. They needed Dr. Mendez to ensure she left Estes Park and landed there.”

“Their desire to get her to that facility still feels off,” I say, thinking out loud. “Unless . . .” My mind races with a new angle on their motives.

“Unless what?” he presses.

“Unless I’m more right than I know. They really do have something to hide, and they’re afraid Oliver told her. Maybe they have no choice but to protect her.”

“Or control her,” he suggests. “I think you’re onto something. Keep me posted. And when you get back, I’ll come by and bring dinner, and we can look over the case.”

“I’ll call you,” I promise and hang up, without committing to the dinner.

One day, maybe I’ll be ready for more, but I swear the dead man stabbed over and over while celebrating his upcoming nuptials isn’t exactly a selling point for an expanded relationship. Then again, I’m not sure what really happened to Oliver Phoenix. I don’t think anything is as it seems.