Max hadn’t expected Blair to be … jealous. It didn’t seem to be in character for Blair.
“I’m here because of three cold cases: Justin Stanton, Tommy Porter, and Chris Donovan.” Max was calm, more amused than irritated at Blair’s comment. “I found John’s research compelling. I think there’s a connection. I will find it.”
She realized that there was a distinct philosophical difference between what John wanted and what Blair wanted. She knew exactly what she needed to do—starting with postponing her next interview.
She rose from her seat. “Thank you for your time.”
“What are you going to write about?” Blair said, suddenly worried.
“I’m not writing anything at this point,” Max said. “I don’t print theories. I print the truth. And I don’t know the truth.” Yet. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Call my attorney, I’m not talking to you without someone to protect my interests.”
“I only want the truth,” Max said. “And if the person who killed Peter is the same person who killed three other boys over the last twenty years, I will find out.”
Wow, that must be a record. Max telling first Stanton then Blair that she would solve this case when she had no idea how she was going to do it. But there was a fundamental difference between this case and the other three: she wouldn’t be able to access any information about Peter Caldwell’s murder until after the trial. In the other cases, most of the information was public.
North called in his assistant to sit with Blair, then walked Max to the lobby. “My client is under stress, and her husband’s insistence in pursuing this theory isn’t helping.”
“He wants the truth.”
“He wants his wife cleared of all charges.”
“On the contrary, Mr. North, John wants the truth. Blair wants to be cleared of all charges. I don’t know if they can both get what they want.”
She walked out. While in the elevator, she sent her producer Ben a message to postpone her interview with Peter’s teacher—she needed to make a stop first.
She wanted to see where John and Blair lived—and where Peter had died—before Blair got home.
Chapter Three
Max convinced John to meet her at his house. He questioned her on the phone, but she said she’d explain in person.
He was already there when she arrived, dressed in a business suit and looking just as handsome as ever. But the events of the last nine months had taken their toll: he had lost weight and slouched as he walked, his hair was longer than he should keep it, and he couldn’t hide the dark circles under his eyes.
She could relate. Insomnia was a way of life for her, and eye cream her best friend.
“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately. His dark eyes were watery and red. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was on something. But grief had the same effect on people. John had been grieving since the night his son disappeared.
“I thought it was best if I walked through the house with you—without Blair.”
“I don’t understand. What happened?”
“Nothing happened.”
“But you know Blair’s innocent.”
“I didn’t ask, and even if I did, her attorney wasn’t going to allow any questions about her case. I talked to her because you wanted me to, but she made it clear she doesn’t want to pursue any theories about Peter’s murder until after the trial.”
“That’s her attorney talking!”
“She’s listening to him. You must understand their point of view. The trial starts in less than three weeks.”
“All the more reason to find out what really happened!” He ran both hands through his hair as he turned to his front door. He stared at the panel as if he’d forgotten the code.
“I told you last night that they wouldn’t be able to answer my questions. But you can.”
“Anything. Anything to find out who did this.” He typed in a code. It took him three tries before the door clicked open.
John told her he wanted the truth. “And if Blair killed Peter?”
“She didn’t. How can you even say that? Is that what you’re going to write about?”
Max stepped inside the cool house. It was spacious with large, open rooms and a view of the golf course from eighteen-foot windows in the great room. Everything was light and airy, with tile on the floor to help keep the place cool in the desert heat. January felt like a New York spring, but without the wind.
“I’m not writing about this case, John—I’m writing about the three cold cases you uncovered.”
“That’s what you said, but—”
“I said it because that’s what I’m doing. My staff went through all the information you sent, and we found additional information that makes me believe that there is a connection. I won’t know for certain until I talk to the individuals involved with those three cases. Whether they connect to Peter’s murder, I won’t know until I find answers to the first three.” She’d told him all this last night, but she would repeat it as many times as it took for John to accept. “Blair’s attorney, the police, the DA—none of them are going to give me any information that isn’t already public. But you, John, know the details.”
She felt uncomfortable asking him to do this, but the police always held back information in any homicide investigation. John might know those details, and if she could use them to connect this case to the three cold cases, then she could do exactly what he wanted—exonerate his wife.
The other three cases were so similar it was eerie—and Max’s gut instinct told her there was a connection. Peter seemed to be an anomaly, but there were enough surface similarities that if the details started to match, maybe John was right—that Blair was innocent and Peter was the victim of a serial killer who had been killing young boys for nearly twenty years.
“I trust you, Max.” His voice was so pained Max hated that she had to push him, but if she didn’t, she was wasting both of their time.
“I need to know if you trust me to find the truth or you trust me to exonerate Blair.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it. John might have been scattered these last few months, but he was a smart guy. He knew exactly what Max was saying.
His voice was a mere whisper. “I want the truth.”
Max knew that John was struggling, but if she coddled him, he would break, and that would do neither of them any good. She didn’t know when Blair would return home—if she had left the law offices right after Max, they might only have a few minutes.
“You don’t need to go through all the details of the crime scene,” Max said. “The newspaper accounts were very clear because initially, they believed it was a kidnapping and focused on the search and rescue aspect, which meant giving out as much information to the public as possible.”
John nodded.
“Can I see Peter’s room?”
John led Max down the hall. Every footstep seemed to physically pain him.