“Why?”
“John was desperate when he called me. He found the cold cases—but I think that Blair planted the idea in his head. That there were other cases like Peter’s. Lucy thinks she used her work computers, which would have stronger protections against police search and seizure. Still erase the history, though nothing is truly gone forever. Blair never expected John to follow up on the cases or to call me. She wanted him to believe in her innocence so that he would stand by her through the investigation and trial. Not only do I think she didn’t expect him to call me, she never expected me to take the case. Or solve the crime.” She ate more chips. The salsa was amazing. She needed the recipe. Would they share?
“If he watched your report, or read the article—which seemed to be picked up by every major newspaper for the weekend—he’s going to know that the details of his son’s murder don’t match the details of the other murders.”
“I tried to call him and give him a heads-up, but he didn’t want to talk to me.”
“How well do you know him?”
“I knew him well, but until two weeks ago I hadn’t seen him in nearly ten years.”
“I couldn’t read him in court today. He kept a poker face.”
“Yet he sat behind her for the entire trial.”
“I’m afraid he might do something he can’t come back from.”
Max wasn’t sure what Dillon meant by that. “Like?”
“I mean,” Dillon clarified, “his wife is still living in his house, but he must have doubts at this point. You made it quite clear that the only detail held back by police was that Danielle Sharpe’s victims were buried with a stuffed animal. And we know that Peter was not.”
“John is a smart guy, but we all have blind spots, don’t we?”
“I don’t want him to enact his own justice.”
Usually Max was faster, but it took her several seconds to realize what Dillon was actually saying.
“Kill her?” She shook her head. Could he? Would he?
“Grief, betrayal, rage—it makes good people do bad things.”
“You can’t possibly be comparing John with Danielle Sharpe. She had problems long before she killed those boys.”
“True. Her problems went back to her youth, and no one saw them. She hid her natural tendencies extremely well. Yet, everything that happened combined to create the perfect storm for her to snap.”
“I still don’t think that John would kill Blair.” She paused. “He might confront her.”
“And what would she do?”
“Deny. She will never admit that she killed Peter. Even if she is convicted, she’ll tell everyone she was innocent, railroaded, maybe take a cheap shot at me. File for an appeal until her money runs out.”
Dillon smiled. “I think you’re right.”
“I may not have your advanced training, but I know people.”
“I’ll admit, I was skeptical when Lucy first called me about your theory. Not that you didn’t have something backing it up, but what your real motives were.”
“I’m a reporter. I report.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Excuse me?” Max didn’t know whether she should be insulted or not.
“I hardly think the word reporter does you justice. I’ve had run-ins with reporters in the past when I’ve consulted on criminal cases, and my impression has never been positive.”
“I gather you don’t have a problem with the way I reported on Justin’s murder.”
“No. I may have done things a little differently, but I truly appreciate how you wrote about my family. I was worried it could have been … more sensational.”
“You should have read my archive.”
“I have. And sometimes you’re more sensational than others.”
“Then I probably didn’t like who I was writing about,” she said, irritated.
“I’m sorry I offended you.”
She was bothered, and she tried to shake it off. Dillon was being open and honest, she respected that. It’s just that this was the same old, same old. She was tired of her motives always being questioned. Tired of people doubting her, criticizing her for things she didn’t even do—but what they perceived of her doing.
The food came and she ordered a second margarita. Dillon was still on his first. When the waiter left, she said, “I should be used to it by now. Sometimes it bothers me more.”
“I told Lucy a long time ago that there were very few people like us—her and me—who can separate ourselves from horrific crimes and get inside the mind of the criminal. It’s both a blessing and a curse. We have both had to face others looking at us with skepticism, suspicion, worry, fear. Lucy says it’s not normal, but I tell her what is normal? So I do apologize for offending you, but not for protecting my sister or my family.”
“Lucy asked me not to quote her or write about her, and I didn’t, except the brief paragraph that she gave me permission to use. She got no credit for what she did on this case. If it weren’t for her—and you—Danielle Sharpe would still be out there. Another little boy would have died.”
“Lucy didn’t want credit.”
“I figured that out really early in our relationship. I appreciate that you gave me some good insight and quotes. I still would like to have you on the show for an interview, and though I don’t like being hamstrung by off-limit topics, I would be willing to give you a little leeway there. Out of respect for your sister.”
“I’ll think about it, but I’m not one for the spotlight.”
“You’d be a good interview.”
“How about this—after this trial, I’ll give you an interview. We can talk about both Blair Caldwell and Danielle Sharpe—provided we leave Lucy out of it.”
“Thank you.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes. Then Max asked, “I sensed that Lucy might have some problems when she went back to work. She didn’t say specifically, but…” She let the sentence drop, looking at Dillon.
“She has a new boss. They’ve haven’t found their rhythm yet.”
Max raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like an understatement.”
“Lucy is a private person.”
Max laughed. “That’s definitely an understatement.”
“Last week, she asked me what makes her tick. From our conversation, I sensed that the question came from you.”
Why did Lucy ask her brother? Max thought she was being evasive because she didn’t want to discuss her past. Did she not really understand her most fundamental drive?
“I’m exceptionally curious. I told Lucy I wouldn’t dig any more than I already did before I met her. I learned a few things only because I’d already set my research staff on it, but I didn’t push. Her husband made it perfectly clear he would have my head.”
“Sean is protective.”
“Is that what you call it?” Max shook her head. “It doesn’t matter—I’m not going to push. Yes, I’m still curious. But only because I admire Lucy. Several reasons, but a few stick out. First, she’s just as sharp as you are—no offense.”