Page 78 of Defending You
All the questions only led to threads in a huge web she couldn’t follow. “Anyway, this is great info, sis. We’ll keep digging.”
“I’ll do the same and let you know if I learn anything.”
Cici ended the call. “It’s all so convoluted.”
“True stories usually are.” Asher leaned back in his chair, the front legs tipping off the floor, his gaze distant. “How’s a guy like that go from dirt poor to filthy rich?”
“Maybe he took out a loan against the necklace?”
“Maybe.” By Asher’s doubtful tone, he didn’t think so.
“He must’ve leveraged it somehow, either?—”
“That’s it.” Asher’s chair legs hit the floor with a thud. “He leveraged the necklace. Not with a bank, but with Taggart andStratton. The necklace was proof he was involved with the smugglers, proof that he knew who the murderers were.”
“Well, yeah, but if he’d turned them in?—”
“He would’ve implicated himself, sure.” Asher stood, dropped the laptop on the end of the bed, and paced the tiny path between his chair and the far wall. “But he could’ve made a deal, the names of the murderers and everyone else involved in the smuggling ring for immunity. He might’ve gotten off scot-free. Meanwhile, Taggart and Stratton would’ve gone to prison for murder. The whole thing would have been solved a quarter century ago.”
“So he blackmailed them?”
“Why not?” Asher froze a few feet from her. “Think of it. Here’s this poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks making peanuts compared to what the big bosses were making. Maybe even working for them because Taggart offered him a deal—maybe the kind of deal he felt he couldn’t say no to. He was arrested, but no charges were brought. Maybe the deal was that Taggart would “lose” any evidence he’d collected in exchange for Gagnon’s labor. So Gagnon does what he’s told, gets paid next to nothing. Then gets lucky. The night of the murders, he finds the jewelry and pockets it, his ticket out. Maybe he was friends with Taggart, maybe not, but what’s friendship when there’s money involved? So he starts blackmailing them.”
“The seed money for his business.”
“Maybe. Maybe the business is just a front, a money-laundering operation.” Asher paced again. “And maybe he got a taste of easy money and started blackmailing more people.”
“How? You have to have solid information to pull something like that off.” But even as Cici asked the question, an answer came to her. “What if…what if the tech thing is the answer. Alyssa said he was into programming. And cybersecurity. Hemust’ve been good to apply for a patent.” She met Asher’s eyes. “What if he’s a hacker?
Asher froze and met her eyes. “Call Alyssa. See if she can?—”
“On it.” Cici dialed her sister and relayed the question.
“Interesting theory. I saw nothing that backs it up, but then hackers are good at covering their tracks. On the other hand, hackers talk, so if Gagnon’s one of us…them, I mean.” She chuckled. “Old habits. Anyway, if he’s a hacker, someone’s heard of him. This’ll take longer, so be patient. I’ll see what I can learn.”
Cici ended the call and tossed the phone on the bed, allowing a seed of hope to take root. And she’d come up with the idea. She’d helped. “I think we’re on to?—”
“Your sister’s something else.”
Cici’s self-satisfaction deflated like a popped balloon. “Yeah, she is.”
“This is a great lead, Cici.” Maybe Asher read her disappointment. Probably, which was why he tried to encourage her. “If we can expose him as a blackmailer, then maybe we can send him on the run, not just from the authorities but from everyone he’s been blackmailing.”
“Maybe.” But reality took the rest of the air out of her balloon. “Except, assuming they know who he is, whatever he’s got has kept him safe all these years.”
“He’s careful.” Asher’s tone turned pensive. “He thinks he’s untouchable. But the necklace could be his downfall, especially now that the Ballentines’ killers have been exposed. He has no leverage. If it’s proved the necklace was in his possession, then he’s an accessory to murder. He goes to prison.”
The soft hiss of the gas fire mingled with the rain’s steady drum on the roof. Cici rested against the pillows propped in front of the headboard, wishing she could close her eyes for just a moment. “You can kind of understand it. The guy grew up withnothing. He got an opportunity to make some money, and he took it.”
Asher’s jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the flames. “I get being broke, but selling your soul for cash? That’s a line I’d never cross.” His voice carried a raw edge.
Of course he wouldn’t. The firelight carved shadows across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw. “You sound like you know that fight.” Her words were soft, probing gently.
His fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach for something, or maybe just a way out of the conversation. Then he sat on the chair again. “Growing up, we had nothing.” His voice was low, almost swallowed by the rain. “We lived in trailer parks, in rented trailers, and even those weren’t secure. We faced evictions… Seemed we were always one step away from losing it all. But my parents were determined to stay in Shadow Cove. Said they had the best schools in the region. Which meant we were always surrounded by rich kids and mansions—people who’d look at us like we were trash.”
“I hope you know I never thought that. My family never thought that.”
He shrugged. “It’s possible I read into people’s looks and comments. I thought everyone knew how poor we were, but maybe…”
