Cold-Blooded Liar, page 8
Laura Letterman hadn’t shown up yet, but the detectives weren’t hurrying him into a holding cell. So there was that. He had a little time to figure out what to do.
It had to be close to dawn, but he didn’t know the time because they’d taken his phone. He glared at the mirror, knowing they were there, watching him.
Damn detectives. He closed his eyes, trying for the umpteenth time not to let the panic overtake him. Vivian hadn’t picked up the phone and the answering service said that she’d had a family emergency and was off call for the night.
They were supposed to forward her calls to him.
Ha! That had actually made him laugh.
He’d had to tell the answering service that he would also be unable to cover any after-hours calls. They had other therapists who could handle an emergency, so at least their clients wouldn’t be negatively impacted.
He wanted to be worried about Vivian—and he was—but worry over his own situation eclipsed everything. He was on his own for now.
Opening his eyes, he fixed his gaze on the mirror. “I can clear this up if you’d only answer my question. I can’t divulge information until I know what you found—if anything—in the park. I figure you found something because I’m here, but I can’t talk to you until I know for sure.”
No answer. He waited for what felt like an hour but must have been only a minute or two.
He sighed, exhausted. He had one more card to play before he let the panic have him. “Fine. I assume you haven’t heard from my attorney yet. Can I call another? His name is Joel Haley.”
The door opened and McKittrick strolled in like she had all the time in the world.
He really didn’t like her anymore.
“Joel Haley?” she asked, looking mildly interested—on the surface. But her eyes were more expressive than she probably realized. She was very interested. “The only Joel Haley I know is a prosecutor.”
“He’s the one.”
She regarded him levelly for a long moment. “Why Joel Haley?”
“Because he’s my best friend.”
Her eyes widened at that. “Really? Huh. Okay, then, I’ll get your phone. You should have mentioned him earlier.”
He rolled his eyes. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to. I was hoping you’d be reasonable and answer the one damn question I need you to answer.”
Her expression went cold once again. “And until I know your game, Dr. Reeves, I’m not telling you anything.”
He leaned back into the very uncomfortable chair, wishing he hadn’t called from that damn pay phone. That had been a rookie move. “Just let me call Joel.”
She left the room and he yawned, cracking his jaw and making his face hurt all over again. Dammit.
She returned a few minutes later with his phone in an evidence bag. After giving it to him, she watched him intensely as he tapped his security code onto his screen. He hunched over his phone as he typed in the numbers so no one could see the code—not Detective McKittrick, not anyone on the other side of the mirror, and not the damn camera on the wall with its blinking red light.
He dialed Joel, holding his breath that the man would answer. It was hit or miss with Joel, especially on the weekend. He worked his ass off during the week and played hard starting Friday night. Which meant hooking up with someone from his little black phone app.
“Yeah?” Joel answered groggily. “What’s wrong?”
Sam exhaled in relief. “Joel, I need your help. I’m in some trouble.”
Taking a chair across the table, McKittrick snorted inelegantly. Sam ignored her.
“What kind of trouble?” Joel asked with a yawn. “Can’t it wait until later?”
“No, it can’t. If it could, I would have waited until later. I’m at the police station downtown.”
“What?” Joel demanded, sounding more awake now. “Sorry,” he murmured, presumably to his bedmate. “Go back to sleep.”
There was the sound of rustling sheets and then that of a door closing. “Okay,” Joel said. “Talk to me, Sammy.”
“It’s a long story and I can’t tell anyone anything until the police answer a question for me.”
“Did you call an attorney?”
Sam winced. “I called Laura. She’s the only one I know.”
Joel barked out a harsh laugh. “You must be desperate. Don’t worry. I’ve got other contacts you can call. What do they think you did?”
That his best friend didn’t automatically assume he was guilty made Sam feel a little better.
Sam focused on McKittrick’s face when he answered Joel’s question. “I think they think that I murdered someone.”
McKittrick’s mouth firmed. Yeah, that was it. They think I killed someone.
Maybe I was too late. Maybe Colton already killed the lacrosse player.
“What the actual fuck?” Joel exploded. “Wait, what do you mean you can’t tell them until they answer a question? Can’t tell them what? What the hell’s going on, Sam?”
“I can’t tell you, either. I could lose my license.”
Joel huffed out a breath. “So this is a client thing? Something one of your clients did?”
Sam sighed in relief once again. “Yes.”
“I’ll be there in half an hour. Are they treating you okay?”
“My face hurts because one of the detectives took me down in my own living room, but I’m otherwise unharmed.”
“Which detectives?”
“McKittrick and Constantine.”
“Fucking hell. They should know better. Is McKittrick there?”
Sam eyed the detective, who was studying him with what he hoped was a tad less animosity. “She is.”
“Let me talk to her.”
Sam handed the detective his phone. “Joel wants to talk to you.”
Warily she took it, lifting it to her ear. “Hey, Joel.” She listened for about a minute, then rolled her eyes. “Come on in, then. Hopefully your friend will tell us something useful.” She listened some more, rolled her eyes again, then handed the phone back to Sam. “He wants to talk to you.”
“Don’t talk to anyone until I get there,” Joel instructed. “I’m calling a defense attorney as soon as I hang up. Do you need medical attention for your face?”
“Ice would be nice.”
“They’ll get it for you. We’ll get this cleared up, Sam. Don’t worry.”
“Thanks, Joel. Sorry I ruined your night.”
“You can make it up to me with some of your dad’s lasagna.”
Sam laughed softly. “Deal.” He ended the call, locked his phone, then handed it back to the detective. “Thank you.”
Rising, she shook her head. “Don’t thank me yet. Just because a prosecutor says you’re a good guy doesn’t let you off any hooks. I’ll get you some ice for your face.”
He didn’t say another word as she left the room. She was back quickly, some ice in a plastic baggie.
He took it with a nod of thanks. Pressing it to his face, he waited with her in tense silence. She looked as tired as he felt.
After a few minutes, she covered another yawn. “Did you need to take care of your dog?” she asked.
“Depends on how long I’m here. What time is it?”
“Nearly six.”
“My dog walker waits tables in a bar. Puts herself through college that way. Saturday is her day to sleep in, so I won’t bother her yet. If I’m still here by eight, I’ll call her. She won’t be happy that I woke her up, but she loves Siggy, so she’ll do it.”
“She’ll have to be escorted by an officer. She can’t just let herself into your apartment. I stationed a uniform outside your door to guard the place after CSU was finished processing the scene.”
He stared at her, stunned once more.
A uniform was stationed outside his front door. The neighbors would be waking up soon. They’d see. They’d talk. They’d wonder if he was all right and once they saw that he was, they’d wonder what he’d done. They’d speculate, and word would spread, likely to his clients. It was going to be awful.
It had been one thing to be dragged out in handcuffs when everyone was asleep or out partying. No one had seen them coming down the elevator. But now . . .
“I was trying to do the right thing and still protect my career,” he said quietly. “Now I’ll be the subject of gossip and my career will be tarnished.”
Something changed in her expression, a flicker of emotion in her eyes. “What was the right thing that you were trying to do?”
He pulled the ice pack from his face and set it on the table with a sigh. “I told you that I could explain if you only told me what you found at the park. I didn’t hurt anyone. I risked my career so that someone wouldn’t get hurt.”
She held his gaze for a long moment, and he could practically see the wheels turning in her mind. “A body,” she finally said very quietly.
He sucked in a breath, remembering the tiny sunken plot of earth. “Dammit,” he breathed. He hadn’t wanted to be right. He hadn’t wanted Colton to have been telling the only truth of his miserable life.
“Is that enough information?” she asked.
The door opened, startling them both. “Don’t answer that question,” said a very familiar female voice.
Laura’s here. And was she ever. She blew into the room, four-inch heels clacking on the cheap tile, and took the seat next to Sam. She looked as put together as always, her power suit intimidating, her makeup flawless, and her eyes bright, as if she’d had a full night’s sleep. She probably hadn’t. She’d been an incurable insomniac in the four years they’d been together.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” Sam murmured, his feelings conflicted. On one hand, he was grateful she’d come. On the other, he’d honestly hoped he’d never have to see her again.
She shot him her don’t-be-an-idiot look. He’d been on the receiving end of that look more times than he could count. “I’m not going to let the cops railroad you.”
The detective cleared her throat. “I’m Detective McKittrick.”
Laura gave the detective a brusque nod. “I know. I’m Laura Letterman, Dr. Reeves’s attorney. This interview is over.”
“Laura, stop.” Joel strolled in and closed the door behind him. He met Sam’s gaze, brows lifted. “We met up in the lobby, but she walks too fast for me.”
It was a lie. Joel didn’t like Laura any more than Sam did and had probably let her charge ahead so that he could put off having to interact with her for a few minutes longer.
Laura skewered Joel with a cutting glare. “Sam doesn’t say anything to the cops until I know what’s going on.”
“That’s fair,” Joel said mildly. “But I think he wants to cooperate. Detective, can you give us a few minutes alone with Ms. Letterman’s client?”
Eyes narrowed, McKittrick looked from Joel to Laura to Sam, lingering on Sam’s face. “Of course. I’ll be on the other side of the glass and I’ll turn down the volume. Wave when you’re ready to talk.”
When she was gone, Laura turned to Joel with a slight snarl. “Why are you here?”
Joel smoothed a hand down his tie. He was also dressed in a snazzy suit, making Sam feel like a schlub in his sweatpants and T-shirt. “Sam asked me to come.”
“Well, I’m here now,” she said coolly. “You may go.”
“No,” Sam interjected, before their argument could gain steam. Sam’s breakup with Laura had been cold and final, with no conversation. Joel’s, on the other hand, had been explosive, with much shouting and gnashing of teeth. Which had always made Sam curious since he’d been with Laura for four years. Joel had only dated her casually for two months, but he’d been much more emotional about Laura’s infidelity, which Sam now knew wasn’t like him at all.
Laura bit back whatever she was about to say to Joel and turned to Sam. “Explain, please.”
So he did. He didn’t give specifics about Colton or what he’d suspected, but he did tell them that he’d had an ethical conflict and how he’d resolved it.
“So let me get this straight,” Laura said when he was finished. “You suspect a client did something, you made two anonymous calls to McKittrick, and you only need her to tell you what she found in the park before you can tell all?”
“Basically, yes. If I’d just told her what I knew, I could lose my license. And the client could sue me in civil court on top of that. I didn’t know if he was telling the truth or making up some grand story, so I couldn’t spill until I knew.”
“Do you know now?” Joel asked.
“McKittrick said it was a body,” Sam said. “Right before you came in, she finally told me.”
Laura tilted her head. “Would you have spilled all without a lawyer?”
Sam shook his head. “Not at this point. I was going to at least wait for Joel.” He stroked his thumb over his bruised cheekbone, some of the anger he’d suppressed roiling back to the surface. “They were far more aggressive than they needed to be. Scared my dog.” He grimaced. “Scared me, too.”
“I’d guess so,” she said sympathetically. “You’re like the quintessential Dudley Do-Right, and I’m not being mean. You’ve always done the right thing, Sam. Getting arrested has to have shaken you up.”
He nodded wearily. “You have no idea.”
“So you think you know who this guy’s next victim is?” Joel asked.
“I’ve narrowed it down to two teenagers. I couldn’t wait any longer to find out what they found in the park. I couldn’t have lived with myself if either girl was hurt.”
Laura’s gaze softened. “So what do you want me to do?” She glanced at Joel, a flash of regret in her eyes that she’d never aimed toward Sam. “Or us to do, I guess.”
“I want you to get them to drop any charges once I tell them what I know,” Sam said to Laura, then turned to Joel. “I’d like you to be a character witness. And if they don’t let me go, I need you to take Siggy until I’m out of here. They can’t keep me forever. I didn’t do anything.”
“Oh, you sweet summer child,” Laura murmured. “They can do whatever they want.” She glared at Joel again. “Prosecutors and cops.”
“Not fair,” Joel said quietly.
She sighed. “No, it wasn’t. I’m sorry.”
Joel nodded tightly, then waved at the mirror to motion McKittrick back into the room. “Why’d you pick Kit, Sam?”
“Because you respect her. You said that she was a good cop and a decent person. She’s your friend. I hoped she’d take me seriously.” And it seemed that she’d done exactly that.
She’d found a body in Longview Park.
Colton Driscoll was a murderer.
At least now Sam knew for sure. He could turn Colton in with no guilt or career repercussions.
He only hoped he wasn’t too late.
SDPD, San Diego, California
Saturday, April 9, 6:30 a.m.
“What do you think?” Baz asked, standing next to Kit on the other side of the mirror.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, studying the faces of the three people sitting around the interview room table. “I know Joel, of course, as do you.”
“He’s a good guy.”
And he was. Joel Haley was a hard-nosed prosecutor with a winning record. Kit both liked and respected him. She didn’t think he’d lie. But he could be mistaken about his friend’s character. If Samuel Reeves had committed a murder, Joel would have to recuse himself.
But Kit didn’t think that Reeves had done it. She hadn’t thought so when she’d first seen his photo.
And, because of that, Kit didn’t trust herself. But she’d taken the chance. She’d answered his question.
When she’d told him that they’d found a body, his reaction had been one of pain. And resignation. Like he’d expected it but hadn’t wanted it to be so.
“Reeves still has a lot to explain,” she murmured. “Mainly the two photos he had taped up in his apartment.”
“Neither of the two girls had ever seen him before, nor had their parents.”
Baz had personally checked on the two teenagers after they’d deposited Reeves in the interview room. The two girls had been in their respective homes, one already in bed and the other watching TV with her boyfriend on the family’s living room sofa.
They’d both known Cecilia Sheppard, the teen who’d gone missing eight months before. She’d played on their lacrosse team. They’d been friends.
“I want to hear his explanation,” Kit murmured.
Baz made a face. “I know his attorney. Letterman’s a real shark. She defended a guy I booked on aggravated arson five years ago and questioned me on the stand. She is very, very good. She tied me into so many knots that she almost had me second-guessing myself. We got a conviction, but it was close. Do not underestimate her.”
Kit would not. She’d never met a defense attorney whom she’d trusted. “They have history,” she said, nodding at the three talking animatedly around the interview room table. “All of them.”
“I figured the same. Letterman has feelings for both Reeves and Haley. Not necessarily good feelings, but feelings nonetheless.”
Kit had thought the same. It was in the way they’d greeted one another. It was as if Reeves hadn’t wanted her to come, even though he’d also been grateful that she had. And Kit bet that Joel’s casualness was a facade.
There was a story there, but for now she only wanted to get to the truth of this story. Jaelyn Watts and Cecilia Sheppard and four other young women had lost their lives.
The three ceased their conversation and Joel waved at the mirror.
“That’s my cue.” Kit grabbed the case folder and went into the interrogation room, taking her seat across the table from Reeves, Joel Haley, and the shark attorney. Laura Letterman. Don’t underestimate her.
