Kieran realized that it was the driver, Mark O’Malley. He looked at Craig Frasier with deep distrust and eyed her suspiciously, as well. She was still surprised that he hadn’t asked that his attorney be present, then realized that while he might want to prove his point, he might not be at all certain that he really trusted them, so he would prefer to keep things somewhat off the record.
“Ah, so it’s Black Widow and the Hulk,” he muttered, looking away and shaking his head. He hesitated and then said in a hurt tone, “You were there. You know we didn’t stash any real guns anywhere. You know that! They want our blood. Yes, we robbed people, but we never killed anyone.”
There was a seat opposite O’Malley, and Craig Frasier indicated that she should take it. He remained standing, then took a step back.
“What?” O’Malley asked him. “You’re antisocial?”
“I’m just here to watch out for Miss Finnegan. She’s here to listen.”
“Miss Finnegan?” O’Malley stared at Kieran. “You’re not with the Feds?”
She shook her head, studying O’Malley in return. He was young—late twenties to early thirties. He wasn’t a bad-looking man. He had the air, though, of one who had come from nothing, who had scratched his way up since birth and dreamed of something better. Blue-eyed, blond-haired...in another world he could have been a California beach bum.
“You weren’t a plant in the jewelry store?” O’Malley asked her.
She shook her head again.
He started to laugh. “Well, hell. Done in by a girl shopping for diamonds!”
Except she hadn’t been a girl who’d wanted a diamond; she’d been trying to get rid of one.
“I’m a psychologist,” she said.
“A shrink, huh?” O’Malley asked.
“Psychiatrists are shrinks,” she said. “I’m more like someone you...someone you talk to.”
That brought a pained smile to his lips. “Yeah? Could have used you a few years ago. Not much to talk about now, is there? My family has pretty much disowned me, and I have a baby for a lawyer who wants me to confess to what I didn’t do... A little late for talking, I guess.”
“Not at all. If you really didn’t kill anyone, then you shouldn’t confess to it,” Kieran told him.
“You know what we were carrying,” he said. “But some district attorney wants to charge us with first-degree murder, though I don’t get the first-degree part at all, something to do with the laws about armed robbery. Not that it matters. I swear, we didn’t kill anyone. And I was always in the car.”
“I’m pretty sure that, in the car or out of it, you can all be charged, since the murders occurred during the armed robbery and you were part of the robbery,” Kieran said.
“Except we weren’t armed. And we didn’t kill anyone. Someone is imitating us.”
Kieran didn’t agree or disagree with his words; whether he and the others could prove themselves innocent of the murders, she didn’t know. “At the moment, not many people believe that theory. You appeared to be armed, after all. Anyway, I’m not a lawyer, and I’m not here to argue the law. I’m here to talk to you, and if you didn’t kill anyone, then I’m also here to help you. I’m one of the few people open to the idea that you didn’t,” she added softly. “I suspect that there really is a copycat group out there,” she said. “Unless you were copying them?”
He shook his head emphatically. “No, we were first, hitting stores with our toy guns and stealing, but leaving everyone alive. Our biggest fear was being shot by a guard or caught by the police, but no matter what, as you saw, we couldn’t shoot back.” He leaned forward. “I’m telling you, someone out there was hoping we’d be caught, that they’d get away with what they were doing because we’d been taken in.” He let out a deep sigh. “I’ve already written pages explaining every detail of the robberies we did plan and carry out. That child they gave me for a lawyer has them all. Someone has to prove we didn’t kill anyone.” His shoulders sank, and he glanced over to where Craig Frasier stood, legs slightly spread, arms folded across his chest, silent and unreadable. “I don’t suppose the agent over there thinks I might be telling the truth.”
“That agent is your best hope of the truth being accepted,” she told him.
He brightened. “You said ‘accepted.’ So that means you really do believe me?”
“Yes, I tend toward believing you,” she said.
“They won’t hit up another store now,” he said. “They won’t—not for a long time. Not until we’re tried and convicted for their crimes.”
“I’m sure the authorities have ways to find them whether or not they strike again,” Kieran said. She looked over at Craig Frasier.
He glanced at his watch. “We need to let Mr. O’Malley go now,” he told her. “Is there anything else you’d like to ask him?”
Mark O’Malley stared at her, clearly ready to give her any information she asked for.
“I think we’re good,” she said.
Craig nodded toward the guard at the door. As he walked over to uncuff O’Malley and lead him away, she walked toward Craig and asked, “Are we done?”
A smiled cracked the stone of his features. “Not by a long shot. We’ve just begun. There are three more men.”