Hannah had been the one with connections to the prison to get them inside…did she also have connections to arrange for the attack on Randolph?
Was there a connection between Hannah and Leonard? “Wes, did Chance know Leonard?”
“Yeah. They worked together sometimes. Why?”
Her head was spinning.
Hannah knew she was coming to Vegas to look for her mother, and had decided to come, too, at the last minute. How did she know Hannah had visited her family’s hotel to have lunch with a prince?
How did she know HAL Properties even owned a hotel in Vegas?
“Sis, you still there?”
“Wes, I have to go. I’ll call you later.”
She disconnected the call and pulled up a search engine to find the HAL Properties company website. In the Find Locations box, she entered the state code for Nevada.
No results for NV.
But Hannah’s family had regained their wealth. In fact, Hannah had concealed the fact that she was heir to the HAL Properties fortune because she didn’t want to be associated with money. So why would she be fixed on revenge?
Still telling herself it couldn’t be Hannah, she went back to the original search results page, and a link to an article jumped out at her. Kathleen Kizer, Co-owner of HAL Properties, Commits Suicide.
Carlotta covered her mouth with her hand.
Ha—I wish my mother was an alcoholic.
People check out, turn their backs on their families all the time.
“Not you, Hannah. Not you.”
But even as she said the words, she remembered her friend and coworker Michael Lane, who had turned out to be a killer. And hadn’t Jack’s former partner Maria accused Carlotta of not knowing anything about her best friend?
Hannah had been acting so strange the past couple of days, moody and irritable.
So Coop gets an introduction to your new family, and I don’t?
And oddly curious about her mother’s mental capacity.
Your mother is awfully young for dementia, isn’t she?
Did you ask your mother about the evidence your father said he had to exonerate him?
Hannah, who knew exactly where her mother was…and only a few minutes ago, Carlotta had said she thought her mother was on the verge of revealing where she’d hidden the evidence that could exonerate Randolph. And Hannah had rushed off…
She texted Hannah Hey, where are you?
AutoTextReply: Sorry, going to be out of reach for a while.
She’d never gotten an automatic response from Hannah before.
Carlotta’s phone buzzed. It was a text from Jack.
Traffic is brutal…ETA to hotel 30 min.
She was trembling, wanted to call Jack and tell him what she suspected, but she didn’t want him to go in with guns blazing. What if she was wrong? With a shaky hand she texted Change of plans, mother in trouble, meet me there, will explain.
Chapter 26
WHEN CARLOTTA DROVE up to the little ranch house, her heart dropped. A rental car sat in the driveway, like the model Hannah was driving.
She counted to ten to slow her galloping pulse. Hannah might’ve simply decided to drop by and introduce herself to Carlotta’s new family, assuming they’d all be friends anyway when they returned to Atlanta.
After parking, she slipped up to the garage and peeked inside one of the small windows across the top. Birch’s BMW was missing—he must be out running errands. She pulled out her phone to keep it handy in case she had to call for help.
“Drop it.”
The voice made her blood run cold. Not Hannah.
Liz Fischer.
She would’ve bolted if not for the fact that her mother and Priscilla were probably in the house, defenseless. And Liz was holding a handgun to her head.
“Goddammit, Carlotta, drop the phone now.”
She did. It landed with a crunch, signifying at least her screen was toast.
“Inside,” Liz said. “Easy. I already saw one person’s brains scattered all over the ground this week.”
Carlotta turned the doorknob and pushed open the door. She walked inside carefully, scanning for her mother and Priscilla. They were in the kitchen, gagged and tied to chairs, their eyes wide and frightened. Carlotta pushed down a tide of anger—she wasn’t going to be a hero…she just wanted them all to get out alive. She skimmed the room for exit strategies. There was one tall horizontal window over the sink—useless. And the back door, she recalled, was deadbolted shut—also useless.
Where are you, Jack?
“Actually,” Liz said, “you might be able to help me, Carlotta.”
“What do you want me to do, Liz?”
“Convince Valerie it’s in everyone’s best interests if she just tells me where the counterfeit bills are. She was talking nonsense before. The girl says she has dementia.”