Tough Justice: Countdown Box Set Read online

  Was William Walsh really the bomber? This is the ultimate betrayal. But something about this confession doesn’t ring true. What if William has a partner—or what if he left more bombs set to go off after he died? Lara and the CMU team need to figure this out fast. Is this bombing spree over—or has it just begun?

  TOUGH JUSTICE:

  COUNTDOWN

  (Part 2 of 8)

  Carla Cassidy

  Witness to a Murder?

  The Crisis Management Unit has a confession—and a dead suspect. Could this mean the end of the bombing spree that’s terrorized New York? Special Agent Lara Grant’s instincts tell her that the danger has only just begun. And sure enough, the carnage continues as the bomber eludes them at every turn. Lara is just beginning to investigate a man taking selfies at each of the bomb sites when, suddenly, another CMU agent becomes a target...

  Part 2 of 8: An explosive new installment in the thrilling FBI serial from New York Times bestselling author Carla Cassidy and Tyler Anne Snell, Emmy Curtis and Janie Crouch.

  Contents

  Episode Two

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Episode Two

  Special Agent Lara Grant and her team have been working overtime to stop a serial bomber. He’s killed dozens of innocent people—but James’s brother William has just claimed responsibility for the horrifying acts in his suicide note. Lara and the team need to investigate that claim. Because something doesn’t seem right about that confession...and a killer could still be on the loose...

  Chapter One

  The brownstone duplex where Brooklyn Borough president William Walsh had lived with his wife was large and attractive. The yard was handsomely groomed and the entire place whispered of class and money. In the driveway were two police cars and a couple of uniforms stood on the front porch as Lara and Nick approached.

  “We put a call in for the medical examiner,” one of them said. “But nobody has arrived yet.”

  “We haven’t touched anything,” the second officer said. “All we did was check out the scene and then we saw the note on the desk and called it in. He’s on the second floor in his office and his wife is with Officer Kidwell in the master bedroom suite.”

  “Thanks,” Lara replied. She and Nick paused long enough at the front door to don booties and gloves. Lara’s head, her very heart, was in anguish for James, who always spoke of his older brother with tremendous pride and love.

  When he heard this had happened, that his brother had apparently committed suicide and might possibly have something to do with the bombs, he’d be beside himself with grief.

  As she finished pulling on her gloves, she shoved thoughts of James aside. What she needed to do now was focus on the scene and the suicide note that had been left behind that had brought them here.

  Shining hardwood floors ushered them into a large entry. A round oak table took center stage and held a huge bouquet of fresh-cut fall flowers. As far as Lara was concerned anyone who could have fresh flowers every couple of days, especially arrangements as large as the one that greeted them, definitely made a lot of money.

  The house held a hush that was unsettling. Maybe it was because Lara knew death had come to visit, the unexpected death of a family member of their team. Once again her heart squeezed tight.

  She and Nick quickly checked the downstairs. The living room was large and airy and filled with upscale furniture and with expensive original artwork on the walls. The formal dining room held a long table with chairs for eight and a china cabinet filled with delicate dishes and glassware. The kitchen was a chef’s dream with gleaming cooking equipment Lara would have no idea how to use.

  A laundry room off the kitchen and the back porch held nothing of interest. There were no signs of forced entry at any of the doors and the windows were all closed and locked securely.

  Apparently this whole scene was being processed on the down low, otherwise she would have expected the press and more official cars to be descending on the house like vultures.

  They walked upstairs and straight ahead at the end of the hallway a door was closed. To their left were two bedrooms. Lara took a quick peek into each of them and then greeted the officer who stood at a closed door on the right of the hallway.

  “I’m Sergeant Ben Lawrence,” he said to them. “I was one of the first officers on the scene.” He grimaced. “We arrived to find Mrs. Walsh waiting for us in the living room. I had Officer Kidwell escort her into her bedroom and then we checked things out in here. It isn’t pretty,” he said and then opened the door.

  No, it wasn’t pretty. Suicide by gun was never pretty. William Walsh slumped back in his office chair, his facial features destroyed and the back of his head and brain matter now decorating a large photo of him and the mayor on the wall behind him. The smell of death lay heavy in the air.

  The three of them entered the room. The first thing Lara looked at was the gun on the floor at the right side of the chair. The gun was an M&P Bodyguard 380, a popular model for personal defense. If William was right-handed then its placement was consistent with William pulling the trigger and then dropping the gun in death.

  Although this appeared to be an open-and-shut case of suicide on the surface, they would process the scene with a potential homicide in mind. Lara had seen too much in her career to take anything for granted.

  “The note is on the desk,” Sergeant Lawrence said.

  Lara and Nick bumped shoulders as they both stepped closer to the desk to read the note. It was handwritten and in the center of the otherwise bare desktop.

  The bomb at the Williamsburg police station was my fault. I can’t live with it. I’m so sorry.

  Lara stared at Nick, an electric shock rushing through her body. Victoria had told them what to expect, but to see the note in person was still alarming.

  “What in the hell...” Nick let his voice trail off as he held Lara’s gaze.

  What did it mean? Was William really their bomber? What about the people who had been picked up in their raid? “No way,” Nick whispered, voicing the denial that had automatically shot off in her head.

  But, they were a long way from proving the “no way” Nick had expressed. Knowing not to do anything with the body until the medical examiner arrived, instead they looked over the office.

  Lara opened a desk drawer and found another handwritten note. It was a to-do list including upcoming events that apparently William had planned on attending.

  She pulled it out and compared it to the suicide note. The handwriting appeared to be the same, but if there was any question at all, it would take a handwriting expert to make the final call.

  As they continued to look around the office, Christina texted Lara with more information. William Walsh was thirty-five years old and had married his wife, Elisabetta, seven years ago. She was four years younger than William and the couple had no children.

  “Maybe we should go ahead and speak to Mrs. Walsh while we’re waiting for the medical examiner,” Lara suggested.

  Nick nodded and together they left the study with Sergeant Lawrence once again standing at the doorway to keep everyone except law enforcement out of the room.

  They started down the hallway but paused before they reached the bedroom door as Ty and Jennifer appeared at the top of the stairs.

  “Victoria sent us over to help,” Ty said.

  “Anyone heard from James?” Lara asked.

  “He and Xander were still gone when we left the office,” Jennifer replied softly. Her eyes held the horr
or that still beat in Lara’s heart. “He’s going to be devastated.”

  Was James’s brother the bomber? Why would a man so successful and with such a bright future in front of him plant a bomb at the police precinct and then commit suicide because he felt guilty? Hell, why in the name of God would William Walsh plant a bomb anywhere at all? Nothing made any sense right now.

  “You two can check out the study. We’re still waiting for the medical examiner. We didn’t see a computer so you might look around for one. Right now Nick and I are going to go speak with Mrs. Walsh,” Lara said.

  Maybe Elisabetta Walsh would have the answers to the questions that whirled around in Lara’s head. Surely she had to have some idea as to what was going on in her husband’s life prior to this morning. Hopefully she could tell them something that would provide some rational answers.

  Lara opened the bedroom door and walked into a huge bedroom. A king-sized canopy bed was on a platform. Next to the bed was a white provincial writing desk that faced a window. On the left side of the room a stone fireplace took command with two white chairs on either side. A coffee table stood in front of the chairs with a small flower arrangement in the center. The room was distinctly feminine, done in pastel blues and golds.

  Elisabetta Walsh was a stunning woman. Her long dark hair was a perfect foil against the high backed white chair where she sat in a rigid position. Her makeup was subtle, emphasizing her doe-brown eyes and high cheekbones. She wore a rust-colored blouse and brown slacks that Lara suspected would have cost Lara at least a month’s pay.

  She didn’t appear as if she’d been crying, but she did look like a woman struggling to keep herself together. Her face was ashen and her slender fingers twisted together in her lap as Lara introduced herself and Nick and then nodded to the uniformed officer to leave them alone.

  “I feel like I’m in the middle of a bad dream,” Elisabetta said. “It’s all a horrid nightmare. Where’s James? Does he know?”

  Lara sat in the chair opposite her and Nick stood at the back of Lara’s chair. “We don’t know. Can you tell us what happened here this morning?” Lara asked.

  “Everything seemed fine. William and I got up like usual this morning and had coffee and bagels together just after eight. Then he told me he was going to take care of some work in his study.” Her gaze shot up to Nick and then back to Lara as tears began to gather in her eyes.

  She cleared her throat and sat up straighter in her chair, the tears not falling onto her cheeks. “We both came upstairs. He went into his study and I came back here to make up the bed and dress for the day. I was just about to go downstairs again when I heard the gunshot.”

  Her fingers stilled and she looked toward the nearby window where the day had grown gray and cloudy. She remained unmoving for several long minutes.

  “Mrs. Walsh?” Nick spoke softly.

  Elisabetta jerked her gaze back to them and in her dark pupils was the horror of what she had seen in her husband’s study. “Why would he do such a terrible thing?” she asked. “Dear God, why?”

  “We were hoping you might be able to help us understand that,” Lara replied. “Did you see the note he wrote?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “But I definitely don’t understand it.” She shook her head and her lower lip trembled. “I’ll never believe William had anything to do with that bomb. I don’t know why he wrote that note. I don’t have any idea what it means.” For the first time her voice rose slightly in tone. “I just know he could never do something like that. He could never kill anyone.” She shifted positions on the chair and drew in a deep breath. “That just isn’t the kind of man he was.”

  “What time was it when you heard the shot?” Lara asked.

  She frowned. “I think it was just a few minutes after nine.”

  “Were you here alone? You don’t have maid service?” Nick asked.

  “Yes, of course we have maid service, but not on Mondays and Saturdays. William and I take care of things ourselves on those days.”

  “And what did you do when you heard the gunshot?” Lara asked.

  “I ran into the study and...and found him and then I came back in here and called 911.”

  Lara knew there would be an exact record of the time of that emergency call. Hopefully they could also find a neighbor who had heard the gunshot to confirm the timeline. Surely the people who lived in the other side of the duplex would have heard it.

  “Did William seem particularly depressed or upset recently?” Nick asked.

  “No, not at all. He was excited about an article that was going to run about him in the New York Times next week. He was looking forward to the next phase in his political career.” Her fingers began to twist together in her lap once again.

  “And your marriage was good?” Lara asked.

  Elisabetta blinked twice and her eyes darted sideways for a minisecond and then back to Lara. “Of course it was good. We had a wonderful life together. We had planned a great future for ourselves.”

  And that was a lie, Lara thought. The tell of a lie was always in the eyes first.

  “So he didn’t mention anything that was bothering him?” Nick asked. Once again Elisabetta shook her head.

  “No, nothing,” she replied.

  “Do you know where he was on the day that the police precinct was bombed?” Lara asked.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know off the top of my head. I know I was at a charity event that day.” She leaned forward. “I know my husband. He would never, ever plant a bomb anywhere. He wouldn’t even know how to make a bomb. He was a great politician, not some crazy bomber.”

  “Then how do you explain the note he left behind?” Lara asked. She found it hard to believe that the woman didn’t know anything about what William had referred to in his suicide note.

  “I can’t explain it at all. I don’t know what else to tell you.” She looked at them helplessly. “You need to find out what happened to my husband...why he would kill himself. I don’t have the answers for you.”

  “Does your husband usually have a computer in his office?” Lara asked.

  “Not a desktop, but he does have a laptop,” she replied.

  “Do you have any idea where it is now?”

  Elisabetta shrugged her slender shoulders. “I wouldn’t have a clue if it isn’t in his office on his desk.”

  They asked her a few more questions about William’s coworkers and business associates. “Can we call somebody for you?” Lara asked. She knew instinctively they wouldn’t get any more useful information from the woman.

  “I’ve already called my parents. They live upstate and will be here in about an hour or so.” She drew in another deep, shaky breath. “I still can’t believe this has happened.”

  “We’ll have Officer Kidwell come back in to sit with you until your parents arrive,” Lara said as she stood.

  Lara and Nick left the bedroom and as they headed back down the hallway Lara paused at the doorway of one of the other bedrooms.

  The room held a king-sized bed covered in a dark blue plaid quilt. On one of the nightstands was a glass for water, a pair of reading glasses and a book entitled The Political Beast Inside.

  She suspected that this room might have been where William spent his nights. “Maybe he snored,” Nick said, obviously sharing her thoughts.

  “Maybe, although I got the impression she lied when she said their marriage was good.” Lara gave Nick a grim smile. “But, what would I know about a happy marriage. Maybe all happily married couples sleep in separate rooms.”

  “I don’t think so,” Nick replied. “My parents shared their bedroom until my mom got sick.” Nick’s mother was in hospice care, dying from cancer. His father was a high-profile, hotshot criminal defense attorney who, according to Nick, he had a terrible relationship with. It was something he
rarely discussed with Lara or anyone else.

  “Do you think this might be the end of the bombings? I thought we got the bad actors off the street last night with Homeland,” he said. “How in the hell does William tie in to that?”

  “I don’t know, but he only mentioned the police precinct bombing, not the 34th Street one. I don’t like it when things don’t make sense.” She frowned. “Why would an up-and-coming politician plant a bomb to kill a bunch of people and then kill himself a couple of days later because he felt so guilty about it? It just doesn’t make any sense at all. And why take responsibility for one bomb and not the other?”

  “Somehow we have to make sense of it,” Nick replied. A commotion sounded from downstairs. “That must be the medical examiner.”

  “Let me by,” a familiar voice shouted loudly.

  Lara’s heart fell to the floor. James had arrived.

  Chapter Two

  Lara and Nick rushed to the top of the stairs to see James barreling upward and Xander following just behind him. He reached their united front and stopped.

  “Is it true?” he asked, his handsome features tortured with grief and a touch of disbelief. “Is he really dead?”

  “James, you shouldn’t be here,” Nick said.

  “Where in the hell else should I be? Let me through,” he said through gritted teeth. “I need to see him.”

  Lara and Nick firmly held their ground. “James, you don’t want to see him like this,” she said gently. She didn’t want James’s last memory of his brother to be of William’s brains sliding down a wall.

  His hazel eyes flared with shards of angry green. “Let me by, dammit. I have a right to be here.”

  Reluctantly Lara stepped out of his way. She wished she could keep the sight of William in death away from James, but she also understood his need.

  He rounded the corner into the study and his gasp of pain was audible. “Oh, God, William. Why did you do this?” His anguished question to his dead brother ripped at Lara’s heart.