Drawn in Blood (Burbank and Parker 2)

“Who served you the drinks?”

“One of Xiao’s girls. She was there when I came in. She must have been finishing up her late-night shift.”

“I’m sure she was. I’m also sure she followed instructions—two rounds of Sanhua Jiu spiked with God knows what.”

“Huh?” Ben looked utterly lost.

“Xiao Long set you up, Ben. I suspected it the minute I saw those photos. And everything you just said confirms my theory. You didn’t kill Sophie. Xiao Long did.” Sloane went on to tell Ben the deductions she’d made at Wallace’s gallery—and why, including the whole story about Johnny Liu and Meili. She even took the time to fill him in on what was going on with Leo.

“With regard to you, let’s add one more thing to the mix,” she concluded. “You were in Chinatown at six a.m. You had a meeting there. You had two hard-core shots of booze. You passed out. I’d say you were out of commission for a good couple of hours. But your car was in a nearby parking lot. And your keys were probably right there in your jacket pocket. How incredibly convenient for Xiao. Think about it. Even if you passed out before seven, there’s no way you could have come to, sobered up, and made it from downtown to the Upper East Side in time to hit the car Sophie was carpooling in. She was officially gone at seven-twenty. The accident happened a little after seven. Ben…” Sloane took both his hands in hers. “You weren’t driving that car. You didn’t kill Sophie. Xiao just made you believe you had so he could blackmail you.”

Shock, disbelief, pain, realization—they all registered on Ben’s face simultaneously. “Oh my God. Oh my God.” He stared at Sloane, unable to absorb what he was hearing. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” she responded without hesitation. “You had nothing to do with Sophie’s death. You were a victim of a different kind, thanks to Xiao Long.”

“I’m innocent?” Ben needed one final word of affirmation.

“Completely.”

He drew a long, ragged breath, as the weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders. “Thank you, Sloane. With every fiber of my being, I thank you.”

With that, Ben turned to Wallace, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry. I should have come to you. I should have told you. But you were dying inside. And I was paralyzed with guilt and consumed with pain. I loved Sophie as if she were my own. The thought that I could have hurt her, taken her life…but, thank the Lord, I didn’t. I didn’t.”

He rose, walked around the desk to where Wallace was standing with tears trickling down his own cheeks.

“I was a coward,” Ben choked out. “A pathetic, drunken coward. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I’m not even going to ask for it. But you can’t know what it means to me that I can mourn Sophie as she deserves to be mourned, offer her the tribute she deserves, knowing that I have the right. That I wasn’t the one who robbed her of life. That I…” He broke down completely, bowing his head and openly sobbing.

The well-bred, always self-contained Wallace Johnson stepped forward and grabbed his friend, hugging him tightly as they both continued to weep.

“You have my forgiveness,” Wallace managed. “Do I have yours?”

“For what?”

“For doubting you. For believing those photos. For believing you could ever hurt Sophie and not remember. Not rush to her side. I’m sorry, Ben. From the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry.”

Watching the scene unfolding before her, Sloane felt her own eyes grow damp. It was impossible to witness this emotional exchange without being affected.

“That son of a bitch,” Ben burst out, pulling away. “That fucking son of a bitch. Him and his boss. Destroying people because of a bet? Because of a suicide you couldn’t have prevented, since you knew nothing about Meili’s pregnancy or her state of mind? What kind of monster does that?”

“A monster who can’t get away with this,” Sloane inserted in an adamant tone. “This or any of the other atrocities he’s guilty of. I’ve got to get over to the FBI Field Office. I want ERT to examine these photos and the news clipping. I need to bring Derek up to speed. Then, we’ll…”

She was interrupted by the ringing of her cell phone. When she saw the caller ID, her heart sank.

“Dad? What is it?”

“Sloane, you’ve got to get over here now.” Matthew sounded shaken to the core. “The police are here. They have a warrant to search the apartment. They’re tearing my office apart. I heard them say something about the anonymous tip being good. That they’d found a valuable painting that was stolen during that string of neighborhood burglaries. And my phone rang thirty seconds ago. It was Xiao Long. He said he’ll have just enough time to kill your mother while I watch, before I went to jail. What’s happening? What should I do? Should I tell the cops about the phone call? Should I tell Special Agent Carter?”

Dammit. Xiao Long had dropped all the bombs at once.

“No,” Sloane said adamantly into the phone. “You know the drill. Don’t say a word to anyone. Not even Agent Carter. Just tell him I’m on my way. And give Mom the same instructions. No talking. Does she know about Xiao’s call?”

“Yes. She’s right next to me.”

“Good. Tell her to hang in there. I’m at Ben’s factory. I’m on my way.”

En route to her parents’ apartment, Sloane made two phone calls.

The first one was to Derek. She reached him, no problem, providing him with the lowdown, together with a few requests.