The Whole Truth Baldacci Novels & Stories

I stated, "I bet you have quite some dirt on Clifford Holmes because he's always been a slick attorney. Hand over the evidence. Also, if any client wants to sue Marie Harding, please hand me that case." I could gather evidence of Clifford's unethical practices, but that would take a long time because he was a cautious man. My new employer, Cole Bates, had wanted to make a move against Clifford's law firm for a while now, and his first target was Clifford. Cole gladly did me a favor and handed me evidence against Clifford, saving me a significant amount of time and effort. I owed him one. It was a win-win situation.

The silence was not so empty, but it was heavy, and laden with all those things we had not said since the mansion had burned. Then I grabbed my phone. “She wants attention. Fine. Let her have plenty more than she can manage. He frowned. “What are you doing?” Inviting a person, who despises her nearly as much as I do. I went down my list of contacts until I came to a name that I had not called in many years. Thomas Grey a reporter, one of the few people in this country who believed in truth. One time he had helped me, a long long time ago, when my world had become a nightmare.

As Blanca and Scarlet’s car disappeared into the streets toward Gennado Deluca’s estate, and Flaviana drifted into fevered sleep whispering Lidia’s name, only one question hung over the city: Would the Old Wolf learn the truth… or would the truth learn how to kill?

Victor Hale hadn't left them answers. He had left them a trail. And somewhere at the end of that trail was a person who knew the truth. The real truth. The kind powerful people buried. The kind people disappeared for. The kind worth risking everything to protect. For the first time in years, Elena felt as though she was no longer chasing shadows. She was chasing something real. And if Victor's final warning was correct, she wasn't the only one looking.

"The market’s moving, Carver. She’s a wildcard now. If she starts talking, the whole city burns." The line went silent for five long seconds. "I’ll tell him. But if this is a bluff, Bailey, there won't be enough of you left to fill a soup cup." "I don't bluff on Moretti time," Bailey said and cut the line. He set the phone down and stared at the word he’d circled on his pad: Wildcard. In eleven years of moving secrets, he’d never felt the itch at the back of his neck quite like this. The late afternoon light crawled across the walnut desk, turning dust to gold. Lina pressed the hidden release. Click. The false bottom gave way, revealing a single, un-sleeved photograph.

A second later, the window slid open, revealing a bald man. He glanced at Kyle, then at me, before returning his gaze to Kyle. “I see you came with a friend,” the bald man said, his thick accent noticeable. He spoke similarly to Pavel, which suggested he must be Russian. “Yes, he’s the man who wants answers,” Kyle responded without glancing back at me. “Did you bring it?” the bald man asked, focusing intently on the briefcase. Kyle nodded, raising the briefcase before handing it over. “Inside is the money you asked for,” he stated, pausing while the bald man took his time opening the briefcase and gazing at the cash with salivating eyes.

“Well, how can you determine if someone is truly good detective, people are always putting up a mask. On the outside, they can be kind, but on the inside, they can be evil and cruel.” “But in your opinion. . . was she a good person?” “ . . . No. . . no she wasn’t.” “Did Hailee have enemies? Did anyone hate her?” “Uhm, yeah she maybe had one or two.” “Could you give me a name?” “. . . Me.” “You? Now why would you have a problem with Hailee,” Hayes sunk back into his chair, his face intrigued. “We had a. . . disagreement.” “Disagreement? About what?”

Monica heart twisted in her chest, here was the topic she was dreading. Christabel sighed. For once Grandma actually cared about her, although her question sounded like an interrogation, Christabel was glad she asked. "No grandmother, I didn't do it." Monica felt her heart beating fast again, perhaps, she hoped Christabel had said yes to everything grandma asked and then everything would be settled and resolved. Is it that easy? Of course not! "Then why is everybody going crazy about this? What exactly is the truth? What about the espionage? The accident? And the oxygen mask? Did you caused all this?" Grandma paused for a while, letting silence reign. "You really had nothing to do with this?

I added, "He's been feeling guilty over accepting your bribe, so he chose to tell the truth. He's already been removed from his position." Valerie suddenly smiled eerily. "It's all he deserves for being so easily swayed by money. It was almost as if he'd never seen it before! He could barely take his eyes off it when I took it from my pocket."

"When was this taken?" "Two years ago. Society page archive. A fundraiser." "That handshake." He zoomed in. "That's not a first meeting." "No. It isn't." She took the phone back. "They're connected. Both with claims against the Rhodes estate. Both positioned to benefit from Elias's death staying classified as an accident." "And both still moving." He looked at her. "You filed the claim." It wasn't a question. She studied him. "What makes you say that?"