“I told them to make whatever drink you had earlier,” he said. “There’s also water and a muffin in the bag.”
She was surprised and impressed with his thoughtfulness. “Thank you.” She took the coffee he offered. “How did you know I was starving?”
“Your stomach growls quite loudly.”
She laughed and they walked out. The barista locked the door behind them. “I’ll answer any questions, but I can drive myself back.”
Nick opened the passenger door of a Ford Bronco. “In.”
She obliged. He closed the door and walked to the back and opened the back door. She didn’t know what he was doing, but when he finally got into the driver’s seat, he tossed her a pair of white gym socks. “They’re clean.”
“Thanks.” She slipped them on, surprised at his thoughtfulness.
“Tell me what you didn’t tell Gorman.”
“Parker called me at quarter to eight. She sounded scared. She specifically asked why you showed up at her house.”
“So because I wanted to interview her again, she called you, a reporter? Why would she do that?”
“My experience has been that people are intimidated by the police when they think they’re going to be questioned and they have something to hide.”
“What was she hiding?” Santini was asking himself almost as much as Max.
“She wouldn’t tell me on the phone. She planned on going to her mother’s in San Francisco—that’s why I went down to the parking garage, thinking she’d left before I arrived. She said that the week before Jason died, there were some strange things going on. Now she thinks they might have been connected to his death.”
“Any idea what those strange things were?”
“I’ll find out.” She bit into the muffin. Her stomach rumbled in appreciation. “She said one thing before the ambulance took her away.”
“Identify her attacker?”
“I would have told Gorman if she had.” Max ate more muffin. “She said that Jason was concerned about something in the trees. ‘Holes in the trees,’ she specifically said.”
“Holes in the trees? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know. But he was spending a lot of time at Atherton Prep and he was there Saturday night for no known reason.”
“Is that what she said? Holes in the trees?”
“Yes. Those were her exact words.”
Santini didn’t say anything. Max continued. “Why did you question Jessica Hoffman in January about her mother?”
He looked at her with surprise. “Jessica told you that?”
“She told her grandparents. She thought it was odd you were asking questions about her mother and Evergreen. What did you find?”
He didn’t answer her question, and she hadn’t expected him to.
“Does it have something to do with the financial situation of Evergreen prior to the contract with ACP to build the sports complex?”
Santini had a great poker face, but a small dip of his eyebrow told her she was right.
He said, “Did you offer to pay Dru Parker for information? For her story?”
Max bristled. “No.”
“Just asking.”
Nick Santini was a hard man to read. A lot of cops were, but he was more difficult than most. He seemed to be pleasant and professional on the surface—even kind, getting her the coffee and muffin—but there was an underlying hostility, and though his posture was relaxed, it seemed that every muscle under his skin was tense and waiting. For what, Max didn’t know.
Max wanted this cop to trust her, but she didn’t know how.
He glanced down at his phone. “Gorman says Parker is in surgery.”
“That’s good news, right?”
“That’s all it says. I suppose it depends on how much blood she lost and what damage they find when they get in there.”
She gave him the last piece of information she had in an effort to earn his trust. “Dru Parker’s car is registered to a nonprofit group, DL Environmental. Heard of it?”
“No. How do you know?”
“I’m a reporter. I ask questions.”
“Don’t pull that bullshit on me. Did you search her car?”
She didn’t respond. She didn’t like the instant accusation, or the change in tone. She hadn’t done anything to deserve his animosity, but that could certainly change.
Her hand on the door handle, she said, “It’s been a long day, Detective. And you have a lot of work to do.”
“Stay out of this investigation.”
She stared at him. “You told me yourself that you just put the case on the inactive sheet, and if it weren’t for me, it would have stayed there. No way in hell am I walking away. You can either work with me on this or I’ll do it myself.”
“I could put you in jail.”
Max laughed. “I’d like to see you try.” She opened the door and stepped out. With her hand on the roof she said, “Thank you for the clothes and coffee. I’ll be at the Menlo Grill at noon tomorrow to discuss this case, as we planned. Either bring your appetite, or bring an arrest warrant.” She slammed the door shut.
Chapter Twelve
A rap on her door pulled Max from the article she was reading on her computer about the attack on Dru Parker. Half the information was flat-out wrong. The way local news was reported today, especially outside of big cities, was primarily online and had a desk reporter listening to scanners then calling the PIO for information. Whether Gorman intentionally misled the reporter or if she really thought Dru Parker had been attacked during the commission of a robbery, Max didn’t know. Fortunately, they hadn’t named Dru in the paper, so that tidbit was something Max might be able to use. If her friends didn’t know she was in the hospital, maybe she could get more information out of them.
It was nine in the morning. She hadn’t gotten up until after eight, but after a fitful night, she’d needed the extra rest. She was already on her third cup of coffee from the pot that she’d ordered from room service.
She opened the door.