Dane

He should have known Chris wasn't done. When Dane sat down with his breakfast, his phone was already pinging with texts from his brother, pushing for Dane to tell the staff right away so he could manage debrief teams more fully, and swearing about how the press better not find out they were taking staff off of second tier clients to have them assigned to Dane's security.

​​

Dane answered everything with half his mind on Lila. The temptation to go to her again was strong, but he only had an hour or two before he had to be at the Station for an interview over the allegations Tish had raised. And he needed to back over the phone records from John.

The phone records. That reminded him.

Pulling his phone back out, he texted John.

THE DIGGING WE DID THE OTHER NIGHT ON LOCATIONS AND NEARBY NUMBERS… HOW HARD TO DO FOR ALL STAFF?

John answered right away. Did the man never sleep?

POSSIBLE, BUT RISKY. ALSO, NEEDS DATES AND TIMES.

Dane frowned. When looking for a mole, they didn't usually know when the mole was working. But then again, the night of the fundraiser seemed like a good place to start.

CHECK OUT CORE TEAMS ON SAME FRIDAY.

John replied, LOOKING FOR?

Dane frowned. ANYTHING HIDDEN OR CHANGED.

He could almost feel John sighing on the other end when he read, IT WILL TAKE SOME TIME.

YOU HAVE MY OPEN WALLET, he replied, wincing. John didn't come cheap. But he'd never let Dane down yet.

YESSIR.

Feeling better knowing that little investigation would be running in the background, Dane swallowed the last of his omelet and headed to the wall. He needed to go back over the Becky Hanson file looking for anything Tish had touched.

Bur first he was going to text Lila on the burner phone, just in case.

I LOVE YOU, MRS DANIELS.

*****

Three hours later Dane sat in an interview room in a chair that was too small for him, his knees crammed under an old wooden table, staring at the blank wall that was designed to make him feel even more closed in.

Detective Harry Quinn was leaving him waiting, and even though he knew it was a ploy to get him wound up, it was working, and he was pissed off about it.

When Harry finally knocked on the door and entered, Dane's teeth were gritted. He shook the older man's hand, but didn't smile.

"Good to see you, too, Dane."

Dane grunted, scowling.

Harry got himself comfortable in the chair on the other side of the table—almost as tall as Dane, he was a little cramped too, Dane was pleased to see. He'd brought a file, but other than that he just laid out a notepad and pencils, then looked up at Dane. "So."

"So?"

"So, here we are. What… fourteen years after the first time I interviewed you?"

"Sixteen, I think," Dane said, still not smiling.

"Well, thanks. Now I feel old." It was supposed to be a joke, but neither of them laughed. The gray haired man sighed and flipped open the file. "I've got a statement from Tisha Roberts here, your employee—"

"Former employee," Dane interrupted.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Former employee, who has been through what sounds like a pretty harrowing weekend. And she's got the bruises to prove it."

Dane met the Detectives eyes. "We both know bruises are easy to get."

Harry shrugged. "I've got testimony here that you entered the employee's apartment without invitation, removed her from the premises, took her to your office building—which doesn't house any other businesses, if I remember rightly?"

Dane nodded.

"I have photos of bruising that correlates with the provided descriptions of physical abuse. And she says she can take us right to the place where all of this happened."

"Convenient," Dane said. "And I did all this personally?"

"That's what she says."

"I did all this personally while I was always in the presence of at least one, but often a dozen or more employees."

"If that's true, it will be easy to prove she's lying. Can you show me evidence that backs that claim up?"

"Sure. I have phone records that show where I was all weekend. I have three eye-witnesses to my marriage on Friday night," he said through his teeth, fighting a smile when Harry blinked in surprise, "and I have a list of times I was with specific staff, security footage of me entering and leaving the building—where, when, and with whom—as well as, you know, my wife."

"I guess I should say, congratulations?"

"Yes, you should."

"Congratulations, Dane. So, if there's this mountain of evidence against her testimony, why do you think Tish told us you were behind all of this?"

Dane looked at the man, expressionless, then sighed when he realized the Detective wouldn't answer his own questions, even when he knew the truth. "I'm guessing either she was made to believe whoever did this to her was me, or she was told to point the finger at me by someone who wanted me in trouble. It depends where her loyalties lay, and we don't know that for sure yet. But if I was a betting man, I'd go for her lying because she was told to."

"Why would she do that?"

"For the same reason she told my wife she came to her specifically because I trusted her—then apparently blamed me for the crime. Because most people are too stupid to realize how easily their lies can be discovered. Did you know she also convinced my wife to sneak her past security to get back into the apartment building she claims I stole her from, and refused to let my wife use her phone—that one of my security team had to contain her while my wife fled because she recognized the lie?"

Harry didn't let his face show a reaction, but Dane knew the man was tense. He clearly already knew how Tish had gotten into the building and thought he'd be confronting Dane with it. "Okay, Dane. Give me your alibi evidence, and your security footage. But I want to hear from you a minute-by-minute recount of the entire weekend. And, I want permission to search your office building."

The men locked eyes.