A Matter of Trust

Chapter 9





When Mia walked out of Frank’s office, her head was spinning. He had just offered her what could be the coup of her career.

It could also possibly be the end of her career, at least at King County. If she took this on and failed, Frank might hang her out to dry.

Even if she was successful, how could she handle the immense amount of work it was sure to mean? She was away from Brooke and Gabe too much now as it was.

Her thoughts skipped back and forth. If she said no, what would her next performance review look like? And once word got out that she had turned it down, people would lose respect for her. They would whisper behind her back that she thought she was too good to get her hands dirty. Some of the men and the childless women would complain that the moms always took the easy way out.

When she turned the corner, she stopped short. It wasn’t the knot of people huddled at the end of the hall that made her hesitate. It was the sight of Colleen’s office, the closed door crisscrossed with yellow crime-scene tape. A fist closed around her heart and squeezed.

This was real. It was more than office politics. More than her career. Her friend Colleen was dead.

Scott was dead and Colleen was dead and there might be something wrong with Brooke.

Mia forced her feet to start moving again. As her co-workers caught sight of her, they fell silent, looking at her and then at each other. Mia realized she had never taken off her coat.

Holding a file folder, Katrina came out of Mia’s office. “Oh, I was looking for you.” She drew her into a one-armed embrace. Mia hadn’t really gotten to know Katrina that well—she had started at the office while Mia was home with her kids—but now she found herself clinging to the other woman as if she had just saved her from drowning.

Anne, Leslie, Jesse, Tracy, and DeShauna crowded around, murmuring their own condolences. Mia closed her eyes as she felt light pats on her hands and shoulders.

Finally she opened her eyes and pulled back. She looked at Colleen’s office and then away. “It’s just going to take a long time for it to sink in.”

“I know,” Katrina said. “Colleen was just such a life force.” She leaned in closer. “What did Frank want to talk to you about?” Katrina’s parents were German immigrants, and she seemed to have inherited a practical bluntness from them, along with her frizzy blond curls and bright blue eyes.

Mia cast around for a truth that would avoid a lie. “We were discussing Darin Dane.”

Katrina’s eyes lost their sparkle. “That boy who killed himself? You should let that one go, Mia. It’s too hard to prove it crossed the line, and the other parents will fight it every step of the way. It’s terrible, sure, but those kids’ parents will make sure little Johnny and Janey don’t even get a slap on the wrist.”

It was Colleen’s argument, slightly rephrased.

“We’re all wondering which one of us Frank will assign Colleen’s case to,” DeShauna said.

Tracy snorted. “Someone with no home life.” Tracy, with her talon-like nails and her ever-changing cast of boyfriends, had more of an away-from-home life than a home life, but everyone knew what she meant.

Anne nodded in agreement. “At least they won’t have one after this. It’s going to be a lot to take on.” She and her husband had four kids, two of them younger than Brooke. Whenever Mia thought she couldn’t do it, she thought of Anne, who always looked put together, with her long dark hair pulled back into a low bun. Anne would never come to work in one brown pump and one blue, the way Mia had last month.

Jesse said, “It’s an election year. Frank will want this wrapped up as soon as possible. He doesn’t want anyone saying that not only can’t he keep Seattle safe, he can’t even manage it with his own staff.”

“Still, the assignment could be worth it,” Katrina said thoughtfully. “It could be a career-maker.”

“Or a career-ender,” Leslie countered, putting her hands on her hips. “Four years ago they couldn’t figure out who killed Stan, and the trail’s only gotten colder since then.”

“But now there’s a new trail,” DeShauna pointed out.

Leslie shrugged. “And who knows if it even leads back to Stan? By trying to make the evidence fit two cases, you could end up muddying the waters on both. And say the shooter was the same person—then who do you think they’re going to want to kill next? No, I wouldn’t want to put myself in this guy’s targets.”

Frank came around the corner to talk to Judy, and the conversation broke up as people went back to their offices. Only Katrina stayed. Her office lay just past Colleen’s.

She put a hand under Mia’s elbow and steered her into Mia’s office, then took her purse, set it down on her desk, and helped Mia off with her coat. Mia let it all happen. Katrina might be nearly ten years younger, but right now Mia felt like she needed a mother.

Or what she really needed, she thought, sitting down heavily in her chair and closing her eyes, was Colleen. If Colleen were here right now, she would listen to her without asking too many questions. And only when she was all talked out would Colleen give her excellent advice.

Mia started when Katrina spoke. “So you were on the phone with Colleen when it happened?”

Mia thought back. “We were talking about that garage sale I’m going to have.” It seemed so ordinary. So banal. “And about Darin Dane. And then I heard the shot.”

Katrina shook her head. “That must have been awful.”

Mia tilted her head back to meet the other woman’s concerned gaze. “It was awful.” She swallowed. “I could hear her trying to breathe.”

Katrina’s eyes widened. “The connection wasn’t broken when she dropped the phone?”

“No. I tried to talk to her, but she couldn’t answer. I guess the phone didn’t fall too far away, though, because, like I said, I could hear her breathing.” Mia thought of how she had handed the phone to Gabe, forced him to listen to Colleen’s last, labored breaths. The fewer people who knew that, the better. It had been traumatizing enough for him to hear it. If he had to testify about it, it would be even worse.

“First Stan and now Colleen.” Katrina walked over to Mia’s door. “It just doesn’t feel safe. Who knows who will be next?” With a shake of her head, she turned and walked down the hall, leaving the thought hanging in the air.

Finally Mia was alone. Normally her day would have been filled with phone calls, texts, e-mails, preparing witnesses for trial, and meeting with investigators. But she had just plea-bargained a big case the week before, and now she couldn’t summon the energy to focus on any of the many less-urgent items that remained on her to-do list. If she took Frank up on his offer, she would be buried again tomorrow.

Mia went to KIRO-TV’s website to see what was already out in the media. They hadn’t released Colleen’s name yet—Mia’s heart contracted when she thought of Sue, Colleen’s mother, and Violet, her daughter—but they did have the bare facts of a local prosecutor dying at home after being shot through a window.

It was the anonymous and often angry comments on the story that sickened her. Half of them weren’t even rational.

Sweetbob wrote: What was she thinking, not having her curtains closed? She was just asking for some weirdo to come along and target her.

Rainyday said: If she had been armed, this wouldn’t have happened.

And Lilywhite opined: All liberal cities are garbage dumps for insane thinking and actions. The devil has taken over the minds of these godless heathens. The Bible teaches that Satan goes about seeking who he may destroy.

But it was True Patriot’s comment that made the hair on Mia’s arms stand up: Now if only the same would happen to a few thousand more anti-American, anti-constitutional traitors mooching off the public’s dime. She made a mental note to see if there was any way to track down True Patriot’s IP address—and real identity.

Mia was still shaking her head when her phone rang. When she answered, Judy said, “Charlie Carlson’s here to see you.”

Didn’t he know to call first to give her a heads-up? Typical Charlie, playing by his own rules. Mia ground her teeth in annoyance as she walked back down the hall.