“If you wanted to talk, I would have come to you,” Max said.
“You’ve done so much for us,” John said. “I didn’t want to bother you.”
“I’m in Arizona because you asked me to come. You’re not bothering me.”
“Blair and I had a really good talk this afternoon—in fact, the best talk we’ve had since … well, it’s been a difficult nine months for both of us.”
Max enjoyed being right—most of the time. Tonight, she was angry and disappointed.
Not that anything John could say would stop her.
“We very much appreciate your help,” Blair said. Her comment surprised Max. She assessed John’s wife. Tired, drawn, thin. She wore little makeup and appeared far more fragile now than she had been when Max spoke with her at her lawyer’s office. “I want you to know that—I may have seemed aloof earlier, but this entire situation … and then on top of Petey’s death…” She took a deep breath. “I just don’t always know how to cope. Sometimes, it’s easier to keep everyone at arm’s length.”
“I called you,” John said, “because I was desperate for answers … and Max, you have always been so good at finding the truth. When we were in college, I’ll never forget when you caught that fraternity in a lie about the party where those girls were mickeyed. You didn’t let up, even when you were threatened. In fact, that seemed to drive you. You had those responsible expelled, the frat was put on probation, and everyone was stunned and relieved. No one wanted to confront the most powerful student group on campus, but you did, and you haven’t changed. I definitely want you to find the truth. After the trial. I didn’t realize the stress I’d placed on Blair by bringing you into the situation. Once the trial is over—and our attorney believes the prosecution’s case is very weak—I want you to come back. The police will be looking at new evidence, finding out who really hurt our son. And then your help will be invaluable.”
Max absorbed what John said. She was having a difficult time reconciling the smart man John was with the desperate man sitting here.
Desperation and fear. Desperation for his wife. What was going to happen at the trial. But mostly, it was the fear. Fear and loss and grief.
“John,” she said calmly. “Maricopa County has upwards of a ninety percent conviction rate. If a jury comes back with a not guilty verdict, the police aren’t going to look at other suspects.”
“They’ll have to!”
“They won’t.”
“But you can,” John said. “You can make them. I’ve read all your books, Max. I know you don’t give up, that you’ll convince the police to listen to you.”
“You must not have read my work carefully. But that’s beside the point. You can’t expect the police to do anything more than they’ve already done.”
“That’s ridiculous,” John said. There was a bit of anger there, a bit of fight. Max would need to tap into that before she was through.
“Honey,” Blair squeezed his hand, then turned to Max. “Whatever you can do, Maxine, we appreciate. But if you can’t—I understand. That you believe in me, in us, means everything to me.”
When had Max given Blair the impression that she believed in her? Max didn’t know if she was guilty or not. And without access to the evidence or investigation, Max wouldn’t know if Peter’s death was the same as the other three cases.
“All right,” Max said.
John and Blair both looked relieved. “Thank you for understanding,” John said. “Will you be covering the trial for NET? You said the other day you didn’t know.”
“I still don’t know,” she said. But now she wanted to. Something clicked inside, an instinct that had her more than a little curious about what really prompted this impromptu meeting, and she wanted to be here for the trial.
“Well, if you don’t, we’ll see you after the trial if you decide to come back from New York and help us,” Blair said. “We know your time is valuable, and you might not be able to help, but we understand.”
“New York?”
“Yes, I assume you’re returning soon.”
“No.”
Blair stared at her. “But you just said—just now—that you weren’t going to pursue this. All the conversation and conflict and stress—”
“Shh, dear,” John said. “That’s not what she meant. Max has other investigations she’s working on.”
“I’m going to San Diego tomorrow,” Max said.
“Why?” Blair asked. “Isn’t that”—she turned to her husband—“John.”
“Stanton,” he said. “The first little boy who died.”
Blair looked pained. “You said you weren’t going to pursue these cases!”
“No, I said that I wasn’t going to investigate Peter’s death. Not now, at any rate. But the other three cases are still just as compelling. Justin Stanton, Tommy Porter, and Chris Donovan. Donovan’s father was convicted of his murder, but the case had serious problems—I’m surprised he hasn’t appealed the conviction.” When Max first read the transcript, she immediately thought that Donovan had the worst representation she’d ever seen in a trial. He should never have been convicted, though he didn’t do much to help himself. Guilt? Grief? Max didn’t know—and she wouldn’t until David talked to him.
“Why those other cases?” John asked.
“Because they’re cold cases and that’s what I do.” She sipped her wine. “John, as I explained to you, I don’t get involved with active police investigations. But cold cases—they intrigue me. And these three? I haven’t been this caught up in an investigation in a long, long time. I’m going to solve them. And I promise, if I find anything that can help Blair, I’ll let you know.”
“This isn’t going to help!” Blair exclaimed. She glanced around, as if she were afraid someone had overheard. But the dining room was almost empty. It was past closing with only a few occupied tables finishing up dessert and coffee.
“I’m not doing this to help or hurt you, Blair. I’m doing it to give three families closure. To find justice for three little boys who had their lives taken too soon. And honestly—I won’t know if they’re connected until I dig deeper.” Though Max’s gut told her they were. “But I will dig, and I will at a minimum prove whether the boys were killed by the same person. At that point, I’ll turn the information over to law enforcement. If they pursue it, I won’t. If they don’t? Let’s put it this way—I’ve never shied away from the difficult cases.”
“Max,” John said, “I know you mean well, but I think it would be best if you just went back to New York.”
“How can my investigation into a twenty-year-old murder affect Blair’s case?” What had Blair said to John that had him doing a complete one-eighty? Something had happened between the time Max had walked through John’s house and now.