Nauti Dreams (Nauti #3)

Nauti Dreams (Nauti #3) Page 20

“Of course we do.” She smiled tightly. “If she doesn’t want to cooperate, then I don’t have to be nice. Do I?”

The other woman was nearly shaking with rage now. Her gaze was spitting fury, her face pale with it.

“Nadine, just a few minutes of your time, and then we can leave,” Sheriff Mayes assured her. “Agent Dane has a few questions. That’s all.”

The woman was going to crack her jaw, she was clenching it so hard.

“You have ten minutes.” She turned away from the door, her dark blue dress swishing about her legs as she stalked into the house.

Chaya stepped inside, instantly shivering at the stark white walls and furniture. The place looked like an ice cave, there was so much white.

“Take your damned shoes off,” Nadine snapped, glaring at them from the living room as she took a seat on the white sofa.

Chaya glanced at the sheriff before putting her briefcase down and tugging off her boots. Mayes followed suit, but clearly didn’t like it.

She padded into the living room and took the chair facing Nadine as she pulled a recorder from her case and laid it on her knee. Nadine spared a look at the small device, her lips curling into a sneer.

Chaya turned it on, stated the date and time.

“For the record, you’re Nadine Mackay Grace, mother to Johnny Grace,” she stated, then stared back at Nadine.

“I am,” she snapped.

“Mrs. Grace, were you aware, at the time, that your son, Johnathon Ralph Grace, was involved in terrorist activities?”

Nadine’s eyes narrowed. “He was not. Johnny wasn’t involved in anything of the sort.”

“There’s clear evidence that he not only masterminded the theft of several government missiles and guidance chips, but he also murdered the driver transporting those missiles. He contracted and brokered the sale of those missiles. He shot and killed Jim Bedsford, his lover and partner, and attempted to kill Crista Jansen. Were you aware of those activities before or during the time they were taking place?”

Nadine was breathing roughly, her fists clenched on her knees, her face splotching with a furious flush. She wasn’t nearly as pretty now as she had been when they had entered the house.

“I don’t have to answer these ridiculous questions,” she snarled.

“We can answer them here, or we can answer them under more formal settings,” Chaya told the other woman. “If you would like to contact your lawyer, we can Mirandize you and take you into the sheriff’s office for interrogation. Why waste time, Mrs. Grace?”

“My son did none of that,” Nadine retorted, her voice harsh. “Those cousins of his, they did it all and they framed him. Those bastards made it look like he did it so they could kill him.”

And Nadine knew better. She was lying through her teeth. Chaya stared back at her silently, her eyes holding the other woman’s for long seconds before Nadine looked away and pretended to blink back tears.

What was she lying about though?

“Mrs. Grace, were you aware of the theft of those missiles at any time before your son was killed?”

“No.” She shook with fury as she answered the question, but once again, she couldn’t hold Chaya’s gaze. She turned to the sheriff. “Isn’t this enough yet?”

Chaya ignored Mayes and continued to stare at Nadine until the other woman glanced back at her.

“Did Johnny tell you where the money he gained on deposit of those missiles was hidden?”

“No.” Like an animal, Nadine’s lips curled back from her teeth and her eyes glittered with malicious glee.

“Who would he have told?”

“No one. He didn’t do it.”

“You’re saying the Mackay cousins framed him?”

“That’s exactly what happened.” Nadine’s teeth snapped together.

“Why would they do that, Mrs. Grace?”

“They always hated Johnny. He was always smarter; he always did what was right. They hated him for it.”

“Was James Dawg Mackay aware Johnny was also the biological son of his father, your brother Chandler Mackay?”

“That’s a lie.” Nadine nearly screamed the word, hatred burning hard and bright in her eyes.

Chaya watched her carefully now. “Mrs. Grace, we have a recorded statement of your son bragging about those crimes. Just as he admitted to being the son of Chandler Mackay, your deceased brother. DNA testing from blood collected after his death and compared to James Mackay’s, proves this to be the case. Are you stating, for the record, that your son was not conceived in an incestuous relationship between yourself and your deceased brother, Chandler Mackay?”

This was the part Chaya hated. The part she had argued and fought Cranston over for days before leaving for Somerset.

Nadine was silent. She drew in a hard, deep breath.

“I want to call my lawyer now,” she stated.

Chaya flipped off the recorder and placed it back in her briefcase before standing. Sheriff Mayes followed suit, his expression granite hard as he glanced at Nadine Grace, then to Chaya.

“You do that, Mrs. Grace,” Chaya told her softly. “And when you do, perhaps you had better warn him to advise you on your rights should you lie under oath. Because the next time we question you, you will be under oath.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Nadine spat back at her.

Chaya smiled and walked back to the front door, where she put her boots back on before straightening and staring back at the other woman.

“There will be a next time, Mrs. Grace. I’d contact that lawyer if I were you. You’re going to need him.”

She didn’t give the other woman time to protest but stepped out of the house and moved toward the sheriff’s cruiser. Natches was still sitting on the other side of the street, staring at her, his expression hard but thoughtful as she and the sheriff got back into the cruiser.

“Would you like to tell me what the hell was going on in there?” Sheriff Mayes asked her carefully, coldly. “No matter what he did, Agent Dane, she was still his mother. And you showed no respect for that.”

No, she hadn’t, and it didn’t sit well with her, but she knew Timothy’s suspicions and she knew the evidence he had amassed so far. At this point, she couldn’t afford to worry about respect.

“Sometimes, Sheriff, we all have to do things we don’t particularly like, as you reminded me yesterday,” she finally answered, glancing at him as he reversed out of the driveway and passed Natches’s jeep. “Have you ever had to arrest a friend? Did the fact that he was your friend sway you from your sworn duty to arrest him?”

He spared her a brief, flinty glance. “No, it did not.”

“The fact that she’s a mother can’t sway me from mine, and there’s a difference between her and Clayton Winston,” she informed him. “Johnny Grace killed an innocent soldier, stole those missiles and their guidance chips, and negotiated a rather low price for them. The money is missing, and pertinent information regarding the whole deal is missing. He had another partner. Nadine Grace was lying for her son; Clayton Winston didn’t. And I want to know what she was lying about.”

“And you think it was his mother helping him?” He clearly didn’t think it was, but then neither did she.

“What I think doesn’t matter. I have a clear set of questions for each person I’m interviewing. Those recordings will be transferred to DHS, where they will be gone over by the experts there and determinations made as to who will be pulled into formal interrogation. DHS won’t let this go.”

Sheriff Mayes wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t letting it go either, but he clearly wasn’t saying anything more.

“Who’s next on your little list then?” he finally asked.

“Wenden Frakes,” she answered.

“Shit,” he breathed out. “Johnny’s uncle.”

“Ralph Grace’s half brother.” She nodded.

“Just what I need,” he growled as he made another turn and hit the interstate. “Wenden Frakes pissed off. That’s just gonna round out my day.”

Wenden Frakes wasn’t pissed off. And he didn’t end up pissed off. He was feeding cattle when they arrived and agreed to talk to them after a careful silence.

His answers were cautiously worded, his expression disagreeable, but he didn’t give them any trouble. Didn’t like that little bastard Johnny, he declared. Everyone knew he was Chandler Mackay’s kid because everyone knew Nadine Grace was doing the nasty with her brothers. Not just one brother, he stated, but both Chandler and Dayle Mackay.

When they left the Frakes farm, the sheriff heaved a hard sigh. “We’re going to the Mackay Marina, aren’t we?”

Chaya almost felt sick inside. “I don’t have a choice, Sheriff.”

Sheriff Mayes shook his head. “I sure hope you know what you’re doing.”

She didn’t. She only knew the list, the questions, and the vague sense of disquiet slowly stealing over her. Timothy had plotted out each person to question and the order of the interviews. He knew something; he was pushing someone, and she just couldn’t figure out whom. She knew she was growing more and more concerned though. And by the look Natches had flashed them as they passed him, he was growing angrier with each visit they made today.

As the sheriff turned into the Mackay Marina, Chaya drew in a slow, control-restoring breath. Natches had guessed where they were headed, too, because there was Rowdy Mackay at the front of the marina office, his wife standing beside him.

They watched as she and the sheriff stepped from the car and Natches drew the jeep into the parking space beside them. Chaya paused. She had no intention of fighting him over this one.

“What are you doing, Chaya?” His voice was harder now, suspicious.

“My job.” Turning to him, she tried to push past the ache in her chest as she saw the suspicion in his eyes. “They’re just questions, Natches. That’s all. I swear.”

“Why?”

“Clarifications. Making certain DHS has everything. Timothy isn’t targeting Ray Mackay; I can promise you that much.”

“Who is he targeting?” Ice formed in his tone.

She shook her head, aware of the sheriff watching them in interest. “I don’t know. All I have are the questions. That’s all.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment. His arms crossed over his chest as he glanced to the marina, then back to her. “Just questions? Or accusations?”

“Questions, Natches. And the questions aren’t in the least accusatory.”

He glanced to the marina office again, and she followed his gaze. Ray Mackay stepped outside, his broad form powerful, his gaze piercing, and his expression confident. Everything about him the same as she remembered from the year before. This was the man who had practically raised Natches, the man who had sheltered him through what had obviously been a hell of a childhood.

“He’s a good man,” she said softly, turning back to the angry man watching her. “I would never take that from him. And I wouldn’t let Cranston do it either—not without warning you first. Not without fighting him every breath of the way.”

He finally nodded, his arms uncrossing before his fingers curved around her arm and he walked her to the marina.

“You young fools.” As they reached him on the stoop, Ray shook his head before smiling back at Chaya. “Nadine’s done called everyone in the county, spitting out poison. I figured you’d be here sometime today.”

“Hello, Mr. Mackay.” She extended her hand in greeting, pleased when he took it in a firm grip. “I just have a few questions if I may. Alone, please.”

“Not a chance in hell,” Rowdy objected.