The Hangman (The Forgotten Files 3)

“The defense has petitioned the court for a one-month delay in sentencing,” the judge said. “It states Mr. Santiago is still recovering from wounds sustained in an attack against him in the city jail.”

Julia had heard about Benny’s beating, which had taken place in the common area near the phones. Benny knew the gangs on the floor ran the phones and that he needed their permission to make a call. He’d not asked for approval as he reached for the receiver. Three men had beaten the hell out of him. She’d bet money he’d orchestrated it all as a way to delay sentencing.

“However,” the judge continued, “I don’t concur. Mr. Santiago, you have been tried and convicted.” The judge listed each of the charges, pausing before he slowly cited Julia’s assault. “Therefore, I sentence you to the maximum prison term of twenty years. Your sentence begins immediately.”

Julia tipped her head back until it touched the wall. She waited for a sense of relief to wash over her, but none came. There was only emptiness.

As Lana groaned over the loss, Julia rose, slipping her purse on her shoulder. She didn’t bother to glance back toward Benny or his girl, refusing to give either one the idea she cared. That was the trick to undercover work. Dump the true emotions in a bottomless hole.

She automatically fished in her purse for a cigarette. Her fingers brushed the pack, and she pulled it out, but she couldn’t locate her lighter. She’d been serious about quitting yesterday but now could think of nothing else.

Out of the courtroom, she moved toward the stairs, her head bowed. She wanted fresh air. Needed to decompress before any reporter—or worse, attorney—approached her.

“Running for your life, Vargas?” The deep, gravelly voice of her sometime partner and favorite smoker had her turning to face Agent Dakota Sharp.

“Sharp.”

“I thought you kicked the habit again.”

A sly smile tipped the edge of her lips as she kept walking toward the stairs. “Nobody likes quitters. Now tell me you have a light.”

He held up empty hands, his head slowly shaking. “Three weeks since I’ve had a smoke.”

“Damn it. If there was anyone I thought I could count on, it was you, Sharp.”

“Blame it on Tessa. She’s not a fan of the smokes.”

“Since when did Agent Sharp let anyone tell him what to do?”

He laughed. “Happy wife, happy life—isn’t that right?”

She rolled her head from side to side. “Maybe you’re smarter than you look.”

As they paused at the stairs, he nodded toward the open courtroom doors as people filed out. “How did the Santiago case go?”

A shrug. “Sentenced to twenty years.”

“So Benny’s not too injured to be sentenced.”

“Apparently not.”

“That must feel good.”

“Almost as good as the cigarette I’m not having right now.”

Sharp looked as if he’d say more when his gaze settled on a point behind her shoulder. “There’s a woman headed toward you.”

She didn’t turn around. “Don’t tell me. Big blond hair, tight skirt, and an attitude?”

“Yep.”

“That would be Lana Ortega. Benny’s girlfriend.”

Sharp’s fingers slid subtly to his waist, inches from his weapon.

Julia turned to face the approaching woman. She didn’t speak as the woman’s four-inch heels clip-clopped on the tile floor.

With the thick scent of perfume circling her, Lana walked up to Julia, stopping short of entering her personal space. “You think you’re so smart. But my Benny is smarter than any cop. He’s going to appeal this bullshit conviction.”

“That so?”

“He’s a good man,” she said. “He’s innocent. You entrapped him with your lies.”

“Did you think he was such a good guy when he was using you as a punching bag? How many stitches did it take to close the cut in your skull?”

Heavily lined eyes narrowed as she absently fingered the diamond bracelet that probably had been part of his apology tour. “You made him lose his temper. If you hadn’t come into our world, he never would have gotten so angry.”

“If he does by some miracle beat this on appeal, do you think he’ll be sorry when he finally loses it and beats you to death? You and I both know that’s a matter of time.”

Lana tipped her chin up. “You don’t know my Benny. He loves me.”

Julia wouldn’t waste her breath arguing with the girl. The case was out of her hands now and the responsibility of the attorneys. “Whatever you say.”

“You know, you’re a real bitch,” Lana said.

“Am I? Good. Better a bitch than a victim.”

Lana leaned in, her eyes now feral. “Cunt. Whore. The way you turned on us when we treated you like family.”

Elizabeth Monroe came up and placed a manicured hand on her shoulder. “Time to go, Lana.”

Lana shrugged off Monroe’s hand. “I have more to say to this bitch cop.”

“No, you don’t,” Monroe said. Sleek fingers banded around Lana’s wrist. “We leave now.”

Lana jerked free of Monroe’s grasp and moved to within inches of Julia. “Watch your back, bitch.”

As Sharp reached for Lana, Monroe jerked her away with such force that Lana stumbled to keep her balance in her platform shoes.

“Excuse us, Officers,” Monroe said.

Julia stood, silently watching the anger flash and burn across the young woman’s face. As tempting as it was to spar, she didn’t move. She wasn’t going to let a police harassment charge derail this case.

“This is not over,” Lana said.

“It is for now,” Monroe said.

After Monroe and Lana left, Julia rushed down the stairs and out the front door. She paused to breathe in fresh air.

Sharp stayed on her heels. “Isn’t it time you headed north? You have an appointment, correct?”

She checked her watch. Sharp’s work with Shield Security on a cold case had prompted her to ask him about the Quantico, Virginia, security firm’s new mission to help law enforcement officers dig into cold cases. He’d been one of the few she’d told about her meeting. “I have time.”

“Who are you meeting with?”

A sigh shuddered through her as she dumped the cigarette pack in her purse. “Garrett Andrews. He works for your buddy, Clay Bowman, at Shield Security. Andrews has agreed to help me with data searches.”

“I didn’t realize you’d reached out to them.”

She shrugged. “You know me. Never afraid to ask. I’ve been reading my father’s old files on the Hangman case. I want to take a crack at it.”

“Why?”

“It was a big case in its day. No one ever caught the killer, and I’d like to remedy that. And so that you hear it from me, my old man shot and killed himself during the investigation. Some think he was involved with the killings. Whatever the outcome, I want solid answers.”

“Tall order.”

Yes, it was, and she hoped she could back up her claims. “If there’s no challenge, what’s the fun?”

“Right.”

Julia smiled. “I heard Bowman respects you.”

“He’s a solid guy.”

“Any words of wisdom?”

“You’re a good cop. You know your case. Be yourself.”

She laughed. “Ah, so you mean overly direct and irritating?”

He smiled. “You said it.”

As she dug keys from her purse, she asked, “What if they don’t take the case? What if twenty-five years is too long a stretch for them? What if they buy into the rumors about my father and believe the case is closed?”

“They wouldn’t allocate their time today if they didn’t think new evidence could be found. It’s their job to find answers, whether you like what they find or not.”

“I don’t—can’t—believe my father did it.”

“Then you’ve nothing to fear.”

?