“I have one other video of Ashley leaving. Actually of Ashley and Joel leaving together,” Garcia said.
Everyone watched as Ashley emerged from the apartment with a man. A man in Joel’s clothes. His hat was pulled down over his eyes and he walked staring at the ground.
Sin stepped closer to the picture and studied the image. “I’ve had this all wrong,” she said in a barely audible tone.
“What was that, Sinclair?” Charlie asked.
Sin’s calm demeanor started to crack. “I got this all wrong!” she yelled.
Grabbing her gun belt off the table, Sin stood and started for the door. Charlie was quick enough to block her exit.
“Calm down and tell us what you’re talking about.”
She looked into Charlie’s gray eyes and clamed herself. Taking a breath, turning away from the door, Sin began to pace the room.
“Back when we caught Joel at Water’s Edge there were some things that didn’t make total sense. But everything happened so fast, I didn’t think them through.”
“What things?” Fletcher said.
“Ashley supposedly hadn’t seen Joel in close to twenty years. He had just killed two girls and tried to kill two other people, yet she went right up to him.” Sin looked up from the floor. “She wasn’t afraid. Just like she wasn’t afraid when she went to his apartment.”
“Okay,” Fletcher nodded, “and now we have a good idea why. There is decent evidence that she has been in contact with him through the years. We’re not sure why, but we know she has been. What else?”
“When she questioned Joel about what happened to George, do you remember his answer?”
Fletcher and Garcia looked at each other, neither answering.
“Not exactly,” Fletcher said.
“He said, ‘you know what happened to him.’ And then when you, Fletch, asked him where George was, he responded, ‘she took him home with her.’ He was standing in front of the picture of Miranda’s house in Davenport, so I assumed he was talking about Miranda, but he wasn’t.” She buckled her gun belt a little tighter and eyed the room. “He was talking about Ashley.” Pointing to the picture, she said, “I don’t think that’s Joel.”
Everyone continued to stare at Sin, not saying a word.
“Think about the timing. Ashley went to see Joel after she couldn’t get me on the phone. After the bombing.”
“After Miranda thought you were dead,” Fletcher said. “Joel told us that Miranda left as soon as she thought you were dead. She would have left before Ashley ever got to Joel’s.”
“Both Joel and George would have done whatever Ashley wanted. I need to get Joel on the phone, and then it’s time we pay little Ms. Innocent a visit,” Sin sneered.
71
At six the next morning, the team was sitting around a table in a diner at the corner of Federal Highway and Linton Boulevard in the south end of Delray Beach.
“So we all agree,” Sin said. “I go in alone. I’ll be wired, so you will know everything that’s going on inside the gallery. You three will be outside. Fletcher and Garcia will block the back entrance and Charlie, since Ashley has never seen you, will cover the front. If she makes a run for it, we will have all exits covered.
“I don’t see her as the violent type, but you know what they say about a caged animal, so watch yourselves and be ready for anything.”
“Heed your own advice,” Charlie said as he wiped his mouth on a napkin. “By the way,” he smirked, “this is a napkin. It’s a much better choice than a sleeve.”
Sin stood and tossed her napkin at Charlie. “Sick, my ass,” she snarled. “You’re just as ornery as ever.”
At eight, Sin heard the door to the gallery open. She saw the lights turn on and heard the clicking of Ashley’s heels on the hardwood.
Sin watched as the doorknob to Ashley’s office began to turn. Before Ashley even stepped in, her hand slid up the wall and flipped the light switch. She entered the room, tossed her keys on her glass-topped desk and sunk into her high-backed, leather chair. She laid her head back and closed her eyes.
“You seem stressed for the beginning of the day,” Sin said.
Ashley practically shot out of her chair when she heard Sin’s voice.
Sin was standing on the far side of the room, behind where the door had opened.
“Oh my god,” she said, her hand covering her heart, “you almost gave me a heart attack. What are you doing here?” Ashley reached into her purse and grabbed her phone. “I’m calling the police.”
“The PBSO already knows I’m here, but if you don’t believe me, be my guest.”
Sin could sense Ashley’s frustration. She was used to being in control.
“What the hell gives you the right to break into my gallery and harass me? If you don’t leave now, I’ll call my attorney and—”
“Shut up and sit down, Ashley. I just want to talk.” Sin took a seat across from Ashley’s desk.
Ashley leaned forward and reached for a small glass box and grabbed a cigarette before sitting. She lit a cigarette, leaned back in her chair, and crossed her legs. “You’d be stressed, too, if you arrived at work and someone scared the hell out of you.”
“You have a point.”
“So are we just going to chit-chat, or are you going to tell me why you’re here?”
“I thought you’d like to know how the case ended.”
Ashley brought the cigarette to her lips again and inhaled deeply. She blew the smoke out and went to flick the ash into the multi-colored, art-deco ashtray sitting on her desk. Sin noticed a slight tremble in her hand.
“What are you talking about? I know how it ended. You caught Joel and—” Her eyes widened as she stubbed her cigarette out. “You found Miranda?”
Sin didn’t say a word; all she offered was a compulsory head nod.
“If you’re not talking, we’re not recording,” Garcia’s voice came through her earpiece.
“We found Miranda in Iowa,” Sin said. “Just where Joel predicted she’d be.” Sin stood up and lit one
