“God, I hate when you do that.”
“You do the first interview. The three you like the least, set up a second interview with me and David next week.”
“What?”
“Well, you’ve hired all my assistants because you only send me the people you think I’ll like. That hasn’t worked. Josh’s incompetence still gives me nightmares. So send me people you think I’ll hate or scare.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Good-bye.”
“Don’t hang up.”
She didn’t. She wanted to, but Ben had called David in the past when she didn’t listen to him. “There’s more?”
“The attack.”
Damn, she thought she’d diverted his attention from that.
“I’m fine. Failed carjacking attempt.” She was lying to Ben. God help her if he ever found out.
“That’s not what the police said.”
“The police? Who did you talk to? You said they left a message.”
“Well, I called back and he’d given me his cell phone number and actually picked up this morning. An Officer Gavin or Graven. He said that you were attacked with a hammer and the person stole some notes? Yours?”
Max could bluff. She could use smoke and mirrors to change the direction of the conversation. She had a problem with outright lying. “Kevin left me some things,” she said. “One of them, this journal, is apparently very valuable.”
“This is the one time I’m going to tell you to let the police handle it.” He paused. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Max, David will come back for you. You know that.”
“I do, which is why you can’t call him. Ben, I’m fine.”
Nick put his hand out. Max looked at him strangely, then handed him the phone. Nick mouthed to her, “Who is it?”
She whispered, “Ben Lawson, my producer.”
Nick said into the phone, “Mr. Lawson? This is Detective Nick Santini. I’m working on the case involving Ms. Revere, and I’ll make sure she’s safe. There’s no need to be alarmed, she’s quite resilient.” He listened to something, smiled at Max, then handed her the phone.
Max said to Ben, “Satisfied?”
“It’s seven in the morning in California. Why is he in your hotel room? Are you sleeping with him?”
She smiled. It was clear that Nick had heard every word. “Not yet,” she replied and hung up.
*
It wasn’t until they were walking down for breakfast when Nick told her that he’d called a retired detective and invited him to meet them for a brainstorming session. Detective Carson Salter had been part of the initial investigation into Lindy’s murder. Max didn’t recognize the name, however, she recognized Detective Salter as soon as she saw him. He was short, lean, and black. She remembered that when she’d seen him, a couple times on campus during the week of interviews, his hair had also been black. Now it was almost completely white.
“Good to finally meet you, Santini,” Salter said. He firmly shook their hands, then sat at the table in the Menlo Grill.
Max said, “You two don’t know each other?”
“Carson retired six months before I moved up here. I took his slot, but had to wait for a budgeting issue to be resolved.”
Carson grunted. “They didn’t want to bring him in until the new fiscal year.”
“We’ve talked on the phone a few times because I inherited his desk and some of his cases.”
“When you told me you were looking into the Lindy Ames case, I knew you’d face some problems.”
Max was at a loss. “You’re looking into Lindy’s murder?” she asked Nick.
“Since last night when you were attacked for her journal.”
Carson said, “Nick filled me in on what you’ve been up to, Ms. Revere.”
“Call me Max.”
He smiled. “My wife loves your show. It’s grown on me, though I can’t say I like it all the time.”
“I’m not doing the show to make friends.”
“Is that why you’re here? Doing a show on Lindy’s murder?”
“Do you see a camera crew?” Max realized she was on the defensive. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Detective. I’m still upset about being robbed last night.”
“Call me Carson.”
The waiter came with coffee and juice and took their orders. When he left, Nick said, “When I called around last night about looking at the case files, I was given a red light by my boss. I need to know why.”
Carson sighed. “It wasn’t my case, but we all worked on it at some point, and we all were frustrated. But I was there initially with Harry Beck when Atherton finally called us. It was a mess. Her body was found in the pool at eight in the morning. Atherton trampled the entire scene, both at the school and at the Ames house. They didn’t call us until six that evening. The body had already been removed by the coroner, the Atherton police had already contacted her parents who were in New York on a business trip. By the time we’d been called in, the parents had just rushed home and we had no answers, but they didn’t know we had just gotten the case.”
“Did Beck initially suspect Kevin O’Neal?”
“We didn’t suspect anyone. We didn’t know what had happened. We couldn’t even say she’d been murdered—the Atherton police initially thought it was an accident. But after the autopsy, it was clear she was strangled. Then we interviewed her friends at the school trying to piece together what had happened on Saturday night.”
“I remember,” Max said. “We all knew she was dead.”