“Right.” She jumped to her feet. “His cousin, Larry Thompson, had a penthouse at this address the last I heard. I guess the mansion is too far from the nightlife to his liking.” She handed Liam an index card with an address. “The uncle passed away last year. That would make Robbie his only relative.”
Why hadn’t the department discovered this information the second they knew Thompson’s real name? This kind of incompetence could prevent them from ever bringing justice to this man.
Unless, someone in the department, someone working on the case even if remotely, was one of Thompson’s followers. He shook the thought off. The man couldn’t have eyes everywhere, could he?
He stood. “Thank you, ma’am. This is very helpful.”
“I really hope so. Despite his anger, I did, do care for Robbie. It breaks my heart that he has come to this.”
“One more question. Were you aware that Robert is trying to better the world by cleansing it of sin? I’m sure you were aware of his father’s attempts at the same thing, albeit in a different way. Is there a property somewhere that might be a meeting place for a group of people who follow him in his mission?”
She put a hand to her throat. “A cult?”
“No one else has this information, ma’am. I’m asking you to keep it that way. If the news leaks, we’ll know it had to come from you.” He hated threatening her since she was so willing to help, but he couldn’t have her talking.
“I’ve kept plenty of secrets related to this family.” Her brow furrowed. “I can’t think of anything. The Thompson family is very wealthy. It’s quite possible they simply never mentioned such a thing in front of me. Or, Robbie could have purchased something himself.”
Which should show up if they had someone dig into property sales. He handed the woman a business card. “You have been very helpful. Please call if you think of anything else that might help us.”
Once they were back in the privacy of the jeep, Liam turned to Harper. “What if someone working on this case is a follower of Thompson’s? Don’t you think law enforcement should have dug up some of this information? A man as wealthy as Robert Thompson, his cousin even, would have very little privacy. Everything they did would be news.”
Her eyes widened. “We should appoint something, no matter how small, to every single arm of local law enforcement. Whoever doesn’t come up with important information would have to be our mole.”
“We’d better start digging for work to hand out then because all I got is someone digging in property sales.” He turned the key in the ignition and backed from the drive. “That and a penthouse to visit first thing in the morning.”
~
So, they’d visited Nancy. He sighed. She’d been the only adult nice to him when he’d been a hurting child. Now, she’d betrayed him. But he couldn’t send Lucy after her. He didn’t have the heart.
She’d only been doing what she thought was right. His nanny would’ve done anything if she thought it would help him. Even if helping him meant locking him up.
He grinned and downed the last drop of whiskey from the glass he held. The room behind him, filled with every luxury a man could want, was empty of companionship. Lucy, bored, had accepted another job and wouldn’t be back for a few days. He could’ve called any woman that followed him, but none of them compared to the enigmatic Lucy.
The plain, often beautiful woman, who held him at arm’s length. Rather than set him off, her aloofness only made him desire her more.
Below, the headlights of cars created waves of color on the road as a drizzle turned to rain. Not many people strolled the sidewalks at nine p.m., but those who did bustled along, heads down against the rain.
Larry had done well spending the money on this place. It suited Robert much better than the big house. He didn’t seem to rattle around as much in the thirty-five-hundred square foot space rather than obscene amount of the house his father had built.
He set the glass he held on a side table for the maid. He didn’t fear her turning him in; she thought he walked on water. One more glance out the window, before turning into bed. In the morning, he planned on visiting the big house to see exactly what the detective and agent had dug up.
Chapter Seven
The apartment buildingthat housed Thompson’s penthouse stood ten stories high. Not big by New York standards, but grand for those parts.
Harper and Liam, accompanied by the apartment building’s manager, rode the elevator to the tenth floor. The manager glanced at them. Liam nodded and the man unlocked the door.
“Please wait out here,” Harper said. They didn’t think Thompson or his hitwoman were inside, but she didn’t want to risk an innocent civilian.
Weapon drawn, she stood on one side of the door while Liam stood on the other. He knocked. “FBI. Open the door.” When no one answered, he asked the manager to turn the knob.
No gunshots, no shouts. Harper stepped inside.
Immaculate. As stark and modern as the Thompson mansion but a fraction of the size.
Liam motioned that he would head to the back of the apartment, leaving her to search the great room. She nodded and snapped rubber gloves over her hands, then closed the front door against the manager’s curious looks.
The nightstands in the room revealed nothing to even prove Thompson lived there. One held odds and ends for a man, the other for a woman. It surprised her that it appeared his hired assassin shared his bed. She’d thought he’d go for a less frumpy woman. Arm candy.