Sean would be gone before Lucy returned, but that was okay—he needed to be part of the reorganization at RCK. They had several things to address, and since Sean had started working for them again full-time after the honeymoon, he needed to be an integral player. Lucy had suggested that next year she apply to transfer to Sacramento—she had one more rookie year to complete in San Antonio before she could request a transfer. She might not get it and she might not get Sacramento even if they moved her.
Sean didn’t want to move back to his hometown, and Lucy respected that. Besides, she would end up working for her sister-in-law. She liked Jack’s wife, but what happened when they inevitably butted heads? She didn’t want to put Jack in that position, and from what Lucy had heard, Megan intentionally didn’t want to know details about Jack’s work at RCK. Lucy couldn’t live like that, she and Sean had been through hell and back, and honesty—in all things—was the only way their relationship would survive.
They both talked about going back to D.C. There were pros and cons. The pros? Being close to her brothers Patrick and Dillon, as well as Dillon’s wife, Kate, who was Lucy’s close friend and confidante. They liked D.C., and Patrick and Sean worked well together. The cons? Both Sean and Lucy loved San Antonio, they loved their house, and while they missed their family in D.C., they also enjoyed being on their own. For both of them, it was the first time they weren’t under their respective family thumbs.
They agreed to shelve the discussion until next year. And ultimately, if Lucy requested a transfer, she may not have any say in where she went. She’d rather stay in San Antonio than move to an unknown location.
Except for the fact that she was working for a new boss who was prickly and difficult. Maybe it would get better. She didn’t want to leave just because her working environment was uncomfortable.
The elevator opened and Max Revere walked out, her long dark red hair pulled up in a twist. She wore heeled black boots and a calf-length royal blue cashmere dress. A black jacket was slung over her arm. She was a stunning woman with an air of confidence that Lucy both admired and envied.
Max saw Lucy three strides into the lobby. Her lips curved, just a bit. “Better than most feds I’ve known.”
“Nonfat latte,” Lucy said and handed her the drink.
“Who ratted me out?”
“You had a to-go cup in your room last night and I saw what the barista had written.”
“I meant who did you bribe to find out when I summoned my car.”
“No one.”
“Hmm.”
Max walked past her to the door.
“Max,” Lucy said without moving.
Max turned around. “Aren’t you coming?”
“Don’t attempt to ditch me again.”
“I don’t like this arrangement.”
“Neither do I. But if you go this alone, I guarantee, I won’t be waiting for you with coffee. I’ll cut you out. No one in San Diego will talk to you. Andrew will not cooperate.”
“Going to sic your husband on me as well?” she said dryly. “Or maybe your brother and sister?”
Something flashed in Max’s eyes and Lucy feared the worst. “Did Carina or Connor come by?”
“Both. Lucky me.”
“And?”
“They made it clear they don’t want me digging around. So I ask myself, why?”
“I don’t think they know why.”
“Because they fear the truth will hurt more than not knowing.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“A few months ago, I worked a cold case where a mother concealed evidence about her son’s whereabouts the night his stepsister was killed. While she professed that he couldn’t have killed her, she thought it looked bad that he wasn’t at home. That no one would believe her son about where he was or what he was doing. She may have been right, but had the police known the truth, they could have pursued other lines of inquiry. Another person lied in the same investigation and ended up dead because of what he knew about the killer. He was protecting his reputation, but he didn’t realize that he was also protecting a killer. So trust me—I know exactly what they’re thinking. They’ll never admit it, but deep down they think they know who might have killed Justin and they can’t accept it.”
“No one in my family could have killed him. No one.”
“I believe you. Except … why don’t they want to know the truth?”
“The pain of the investigation,” Lucy offered. “The memories of the past.”
“And you’re immune?”
“Not immune. I have a higher pain threshold than most.”
Max turned and walked out to the car that had pulled up. She tipped the valet and slid into the driver’s seat. Lucy sat in the passenger’s seat.
“It took Marco months before he ever caught me going off without him,” Max said as she pulled away from the hotel, too fast for Lucy’s comfort. Max typed into the GPS while she drove, further stressing Lucy.
“Marco Lopez?”
“You know him?”
“Like I said yesterday, I read your book.”
Max didn’t say anything.
“I looked up the status of the investigation last night. It’s still unsolved.”
“It’s solved—I know who killed her.” Max’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. “But he fled the country, there’s no body, no evidence.”
“How are you so certain?”
“Circumstantial evidence. And I met him. I had a bad feeling about him from the beginning, but Karen didn’t listen to me. I was more worried about him drugging and raping her. I didn’t think he’d kill her.”
“The same type of evidence against your friend Blair Caldwell. Circumstantial.”
“Blair is not my friend. I dated John, her husband, in college.”
“You don’t like her.”
“No, I don’t, but I didn’t say that.”
“You’re an open book.”
Max laughed. “Most people don’t think so.”
“I’m not most people.”
“I’m beginning to realize that.”
*
Don Katella had retired to an active, over fifty-five community on the beach not far from downtown. He introduced his wife, who was walking out of the house with a briefcase. “Natalie still works, though I’m trying to get her to quit.”
Natalie laughed. “Work? Hardly. I teach one graduate class at USD. That’s part-time, teaching something I love.”
“History,” Don said, beaming. He kissed her. “Don’t forget we have dinner with the kids tonight.”
“Here or there?”
“Here. I’m cooking.”
“Thank God.” She smiled. “Don couldn’t cook for the first thirty years of our marriage. He retires and wham, he’s surpassed me.”
“I have to do something so I’m not bored witless.”
Natalie said her good-byes, and Don offered Lucy and Max coffee. Max declined, but Lucy nodded. “Thank you. Cream and sugar.”
Don led them into the kitchen and motioned for them to sit at a round table for four in the breakfast nook. He poured coffee and brought out a carton of milk and sugar to the table. “None of that fake sugar,” he said.
“I love the real stuff,” Lucy said and put in a hefty spoonful. “I appreciate you taking the time to talk to us.
Don sat down. He added milk to his coffee. “I was surprised when Stanton called me last night.” He looked pointedly at Max. “More surprised that he was sending out a reporter.”