Framed For Murder. Mary Alford
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He had no doubt her bruised ribs were giving her grief as well, yet Liz wasn’t one to complain. She’d soldier through the pain, do what needed to be done to solve her partner’s murder.
He smiled gently and asked, “How are you holding up?” He nodded toward her wrist and watched as she swallowed visibly and then quickly dismissed the severity of her injuries.
“I’m fine, Aaron. Don’t worry about me. I want to help.”
He knew her dedication all too well, but that didn’t keep him from worrying about her. She was more than a colleague—she was his friend.
Liz was the kindest and most generous person he knew. It never ceased to amaze him that she hadn’t let her personal tragedy turn her bitter. She’d been devastated when her husband, and fellow CIA agent, had died while on mission five years ago, yet she’d kept going. Fighting the same causes Eric had battled.
“What were you saying earlier?” she prompted in an unsteady voice when he continued to watch her carefully, getting lost in her expressive eyes.
Aaron cleared his throat and focused ahead. “I was just wondering, if Sam did order the hit on Michael, how he made it happen. He’s been guarded since his capture. There have been no visitors.”
She considered it. “But if not Sam then who?” She shook her head. “This has to have something to do with the missing weapons.”
In his mind, there was little doubt. The team may have captured the Fox, but the guns he’d smuggled into the US from Afghanistan were still MIA.
“Maybe Sam’s organization is bigger than we thought. We have no idea how many people work for him.” They’d only just begun to dig into Sam’s background and so far, it was like peeling away the layers of an onion. There were more lies than truths.
Aaron pulled up to the security gate outside the compound and waved his passkey in front of it. Once they’d cleared the gate, he drove the short distance to the prison.
The moment they entered the section where Sam was held, Aaron knew something was dreadfully wrong. Sam’s cell door stood slightly ajar.
He drew his weapon and motioned to the open door. Liz saw and quickly followed his lead.
Aaron pointed to his right and she quietly began searching that section while he did the same.
On this end of the prison, there were only five cells in addition to Sam’s. Aaron eased to the open cell. Sam lay slumped on his cot staring sightless at the ceiling. One arm hanging at an odd angle. There was little doubt, he was dead.
Aaron stared at the lifeless body, trying to grasp the reality of what had happened. He couldn’t believe it. There was no indication that Sam had taken his own life. No real sign of a struggle and yet someone had murdered him. Aaron’s thoughts flew in a dozen different directions. With Sam gone, what did that mean for locating the missing weapons and bringing Michael’s killer to justice? Would they ever know the truth behind any of it?
While he tried to process the scene, Aaron couldn’t understand how someone had gotten into such a secure location in the first place. He recalled the implication from Sam’s second-in-command about someone from the Scorpion team being dirty. Had one of their own team members taken Sam’s life? Impossible. Aaron searched the rest of the empty cells, then stopped next to the ones holding members of Sam’s team who had been captured.
“What happened here tonight?” he demanded of the first prisoner, knowing full well none of the men captured would cooperate. They hadn’t said so much as a handful of words since being taken prisoner.
With nothing but glaring silence coming from the men, frustrated, Aaron went back to Sam’s cell. They needed to find out what happened here quickly because there was no way the two murders weren’t connected.
He looked up expectantly when Liz returned.
She shook her head, confirming what he knew in his heart. “Whoever did this is gone. Just like at Michael’s place. Did Sam’s men give you anything?”
“They’re not talking.” Aaron felt for a pulse, not expecting one. “I’d say he’s been dead several hours. Rigor has just begun to set in.”
There were no signs of an injury. Aaron rolled Sam’s sleeve up. “There’s a needle mark on his arm. He was obviously injected with something deadly,” he confirmed while still reeling from the impossible.
“Both Sam and Michael had to be killed within hours of each other,” Liz pointed out.
Aaron’s gaze locked with hers. “That’s right. There are video cameras in each of the cells. Whoever killed Sam has to be on the tape,” he told her.
They hurried to the command center and Aaron brought up the video for Sam’s cell. The timestamp appeared to be a few hours earlier. The person who entered the prison was heavily disguised. Dressed entirely in black and wearing a heavy jacket and gloves, their face was almost completely covered with a ski mask with the exception of their eyes. He zoomed in closer, but the feed became grainy.
Aaron pulled up the entry log on the computer. It showed every single entry into the compound as well as which secure passkey was used. What he saw there was most alarming.
The passkey used to enter both the compound and the prison before Sam’s death was Liz’s. He stared at her in disbelief, unable to digest what was in plain sight.
Each key had a sensor device in it so that when used, that particular Scorpion member was identified as the user. It couldn’t be faked. There was no mistaking it was Liz’s key. The only question: How?
Her clear emerald-green eyes filled with worry as she shook her head. “No, that’s not possible.” He’d never seen her look so frightened before. He resisted the urge to take her in his arms and reassure her everything was going to be okay. Since his former girlfriend Beth’s betrayal, he hadn’t been able to let himself get too close to another woman. He’d loved Beth so much and yet she’d used him, and in the process she’d destroyed his ability to trust his heart to another. Instead, he kept himself buried in work.
Liz tossed her raven braid off her shoulder. She appeared so vulnerable right now, and yet her fragile beauty was deceiving. As a highly decorated agent, he couldn’t think of anyone else he’d want to have his back.
“It wasn’t me, Aaron,” she said in a shaky voice. “I promise I didn’t do this.”
But if not her, then who? Someone had used her passkey to enter the prison and kill Sam. As much as he wanted to believe her, there was no denying the evidence certainly made her look guilty.
* * *
“I don’t think you killed Sam,” he reassured her because he knew Liz. They’d become close while working together and he’d witnessed time and again that her faith in God was as unshakable as her valor. She didn’t kill Sam or Michael, but clearly someone was trying to make them believe she had.
“When was the last time you used your passkey?” he asked, hoping there was some innocent explanation. Maybe she’d lost it. Had it stolen?
She didn’t hesitate. “This morning when I left the compound with Michael.”
“Where is it now?” he prompted.
“In my purse. Aaron?”
“Go get it,” he interrupted and watched as she flinched at the hard edge in his tone.
She stared at him for a second then hurried away and he regretted the way his words had sounded.
When she came back with her purse, he saw the truth on her face even before she said the words.
“It’s not there,” she said and shook her head. “I have no idea where it is.”
Aaron tried to squash the dread growing inside of him. “I need you to account for your time today, Liz,” he told her and hated that the request sounded like an interrogation.