“No. God, no. How can you even ask me that?”
“Because someone did.”
“I believe you,” he said.
She jerked her arm free. “Too late. You had your chance in front of Buddy. That’s the moment that counted.”
She unlocked her door and stepped inside. He stopped her from closing it in his face. “I believe you,” he said again. “I saw it, Miranda. I saw the box.”
“What did you … what do you mean, you saw it?”
“After you left Stark’s, curiosity got the better of me. I decided to look in the freezer. I saw that lone box of vegetables.”
Her heart beat heavily against the wall of her chest. “Did you look inside it?”
“No.”
“Why not? You were that far. Why—”
“I got a grip on myself. I acknowledged that what I was doing was pretty stupid. Whatever you’d found had been compromised enough; my messing with it would only make it worse.”
She digested that. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I couldn’t. If I had, Buddy would’ve pulled me off the case, too. Then you would have had no one on the inside.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting I should be grateful you didn’t stand by me?”
“Of course not.” He flashed her a smile. “But yeah, maybe.”
She steeled herself against the smile. “How do I know I can trust you?”
“You should just know, Miranda.”
Simple. Straightforward. And true.
Just like Jake.
For better or worse, she did trust him. “Come on in.”
He stepped into the foyer, and closed the door behind him. “I can’t stay too long. Buddy’s been watching me like a hawk.”
“Speaking of trust.”
“Exactly.” He turned back to her. “Buddy’s protecting Stark’s reputation. Both the Starks’, I imagine.”
“I can’t believe he would do this,” Miranda murmured. “I trusted him, looked up to him. To protect a serial predator by covering up evidence? A week ago I would have called the notion impossible.”
“He might not have done it, Miranda.”
“I gave him the benefit of the doubt before, when you pointed out his odd behavior concerning this case. Now it all makes sense. His going to the crime scene first, his going to Stark, taking his side against me. He was never impartial.”
Jake crossed to her and caught her hands in his. “Were you? Impartial?”
A damning question. One they both knew the answer to.
“I couldn’t be,” she said softly, a catch in her voice. “Once I knew Stark was … the one.”
She lowered her gaze to their joined hands, then returned it to his. “Buddy was right to take me off the investigation.”
“Yes.” Jake rested his forehead against hers. “But he did it for the wrong reasons.”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything.” He cupped her face in his palms. “Yet anyway.”
He kissed her, deeply. Once, then again.
With a sound of regret, he ended the embrace. “I need to go, but I’ve got news about the case. It’s about Jessie Lund.”
Miranda held her breath. Something in his tone warned she wouldn’t be happy with what he was about to share.
“We’ve gotten ahold of her phone data and it’s not good news for her. Records show she was not at her mother’s the night of the murder. At least not the entire night.”
“Dammit,” Miranda muttered.
“More like damning,” Jake said. “She called her mother just after one in the morning. The call lasted twenty-seven minutes.”
Miranda’s heart sank. Around Stark’s estimated time of death. A hysterical girl calling her mother? Maybe.
Jake took several folded papers from his pocket and handed them to her. “A copy of Lund’s phone log.”
Miranda scanned them. Starting in mid-January, a steady stream of calls between Lund and Stark. The number grew, seeming to reach a crescendo, then stopped dead. Right around the time Lund quit school.
“Fifty calls,” Jake said, as if reading along with her. “Then nothing, until a flurry of calls leading up to the night of the murder.”
“The first of those,” she noted, “was initiated by Stark.”
He raised his eyebrows in question. “So?”
“He was reeling her back in.”
“That’s one interpretation. Here’s another. Lund has a major crush on Stark; she thinks he reciprocates, but he rejects her. Playing devil’s advocate here, he does it firmly, but as gently as he can.”
“I think I’m gonna puke.”
“You know that’s what any prosecutor worth his salary’s going to say.”
“Fine,” she said. “Let’s hear the rest of the fairy tale.”
“She gives up her assistantship and drops out of school. He feels bad. He didn’t mean to hurt her, so he calls, to try to make it right. Because he’s a good guy with a big heart.”
“That’s a pretty picture you’re painting of Stark. Let’s look at a different one. What if he knew she had a crush on him and he took advantage of her? Or maybe it’s worse than that? Maybe he’s a predator, he hunts for the weak and vulnerable, then incapacitates them and sexually assaults them?”
“You’re counselor for the defense; prove it,” Jake said. “Prove it and use it to lighten the sentence against Lund, because she’s still guilty of murder.”
“She didn’t do it.”
“She may have, Miranda.”
“No way.”
“Well, somebody did. And my bet is, if it wasn’t Lund, it was somebody like her.”
“I’ve got to talk to Lund.”
“That’s not going to happen. Besides, you heard the chief—you talk to her and he finds out you did, you lose your badge permanently. He might even charge you with interfering with an investigation.”
“It might be worth the risk.”
“Think that through carefully, Miranda. It could change your life forever.”
This already has, she silently acknowledged. “Is she being charged?”
“They don’t have enough, but they’re holding her as long as they legally can.”
She couldn’t wait that long. “Her mother,” Miranda said, meeting his eyes. “This is why she’s been so angry. She knows what Stark did and she’s furious because we’re treating her daughter like she’s the criminal.”
“So, why’s she keeping quiet?”
“My bet? At first her daughter made her promise not to say anything. And now she realizes, or their lawyer has advised, that the truth supplies the police with a strong motive.”
“That’s true, Miranda. You know that, right?”
“But when we expose the sheer number of women he’s done this to, it dilutes that motivation and widens the field of suspects. Suddenly, Lund won’t seem like such a slam dunk.”
“You’ve got a steep hill to climb.”
Miranda’s mind was racing. If she couldn’t get to Jessie Lund, she’d go for the next best. “I’m going to try to connect with Lund’s mother. See if I can get her to talk.”
“I didn’t hear that.” He moved toward the door. “And I certainly didn’t mention that said mother has a room over at the Harmony B&B on Franklin.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE