CHAPTER FIFTEEN
STONE’SHEADREELEDwith all the new information in it. Byron’s kid had been sleeping with his wife. And Hillary Bellows was the daughter of one of the richest men in New York City—hell, in the world. But she didn’t use his name. She used her dead mother’s maiden name instead.
She hadn’t told him all of that; he’d found it out on his own. Once she told him that the man she loved the most was wealthier than Mueller.
The man she loved the most...
He felt again that lurch of his stomach, as it had roiled with that emotion he hated. Jealousy.
He’d been so jealous until she’d admitted that man was her father. Then he had been confused.
But Hillary must have changed her name because she didn’t want any preferential treatment. Or maybe bias.
Like the bias she was showing Byron. She refused to accept what the new evidence proved. His innocence.
Stone slapped a copy of the photo on the table in front of Byron. “You’ve seen this before,” he said. “You hired the private investigator who took it.”
After Hillary had stormed out of his office with her copy, Stone had done a little more research. He’d delved into his client’s bank records again and had found the payments to the private investigator.
Byron grimaced as he glanced at it. Then he pushed it back across the table with a trembling hand. “Get it out of here!”
They were at the jail again—in the visiting room used for defendants to meet with their lawyers. Stone hated these rooms. But there was something he hated even more—when people kept stuff from him, like Hillary had kept her real identity from him and like Byron had kept the truth.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Stone asked his client.
He wanted to ask Hillary the same thing, but she’d stormed off too quickly after her revelation to give him the chance.
“It has nothing to do with anything,” Byron insisted.
“Your son and wife were sleeping together,” Stone said bluntly. “It has everything to do with you, especially when you’re on trial for her murder.”
The billionaire shook his head.
“So there’s only one reason why you wouldn’t have told me,” Stone said.
And he should have realized it sooner. If not for Hillary distracting him, he probably would have.
“You’re protecting him,” Stone continued. “That’s why you bought that alibi. It wasn’t really for you. It was for your son. His friend claimed that both of you were with him.”
Stone had been the one who’d pointed out to Byron that grand juries and regular juries discounted family members alibiing each other. That was why they’d needed his friend to swear he’d been with them both. At the time, Stone had thought the friend was telling the truth, though—until Hillary had produced those bank statements.
Just like she’d produced the photo.
Who the hell was this mole that he or she kept getting ahold of documents like this? Someone close to Stone? Someone at the office?
He didn’t have time to worry about that now. He had to make sure his client didn’t go to prison for something he hadn’t done.
“My son doesn’t need protecting,” Byron said. “He didn’t do anything wrong. She’s the one who seduced him, who tricked him. He wouldn’t have betrayed me if she hadn’t manipulated him into it.”
“I wasn’t talking about his sleeping with her,” Stone said. He didn’t care about that. Adultery was Ronan’s concern, not his. Ronan was the divorce lawyer. Stone was the one who represented criminals. That was what Hillary thought. But even she would have to eventually admit that his client was innocent. “He killed your wife.”
Byron tensed. And Stone knew it was the truth. He saw the pain all over his client’s face, the guilt and regret and horror. He suspected Byron might have even been an eyewitness to the murder.
“We need to talk to the ADA,” he said.
Now she would have to accept that he was right. His client was innocent.
And he wasn’t sure why it was so important that she knew. Was it so that she would drop the charges against Byron? Or was it so she would see Stone wasn’t the bad guy she’d thought he was?
