Nick said, “I’ll get it.”
Max continued. “Kevin contacted me four months ago saying he had information and thought I could use it to find out who killed Lindy. I had my assistant call him back and tell him I wasn’t interested. He killed himself ten days ago and his sister asked me to come.” She hesitated, then said, “I think he killed himself to force me to come here. He knew he was dying and he thought this was the only way to get me to look at Lindy’s murder.”
Carson shook his head. “That’s disturbing.”
Nick said, “He couldn’t have known you would return. You said you haven’t been home in two years.”
“But he set up enough to entice me. Jodi called me because he sent her a message to call me the night he killed himself. Then he sent her a copy of Lindy’s death certificate with a comment on the back—Lindy drowned.” She stared at Carson, assessing his reaction. “Did she?”
Carson was stunned. “I—I don’t know how he got that information.”
“You’re not denying it.”
“It was never in the coroner report.” Carson let out a long sigh then sipped his coffee as if gathering his thoughts. “There were two coroner’s reports, the preliminary and the official. In the preliminary report, which was never released and never part of the trial, it said there was water in her lungs. That was explained away in the final report as a reflex in a recently deceased victim. Meaning, as soon as the killer realized she was dead, he pushed her in the pool. Involuntary muscle contraction or something.
“But another theory is that she may have been unconscious when she was pushed into the pool, and that she did drown. It’s something the head medical examiner felt would confuse the jury. This was before O’Neal was a suspect, so it wasn’t a personal thing, but a judgment call based on experience.”
“You have doubts?” Nick said.
“I don’t know what happened that night. Usually, when it’s my case, I have to know in my head and my heart that my theory of events is accurate. Then I will fight with my last breath to put the killer in prison. This time—it was like a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit.”
Carson looked at Max. “Do you have a theory?”
She told him about the diary and then showed him Kevin’s letter. He read it, taking his time, then said, “Well.”
“Someone attacked Max last night and stole the diary,” Nick said.
Carson slid over a file to Nick. “These were my notes on the case. As I said, I wasn’t part of the investigation other than helping with the interviews. But if Kevin O’Neal is truly innocent, I’d start looking into that anonymous caller. We searched for him, but nothing. He used a pay phone and there were no security cameras. It was—damn, it’s not there anymore. Over near where they built the new grocery on El Camino. There used to be a café.”
“Drake’s,” Max said.
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“We used to walk there from campus. It was an open campus, and Drake would get us in and out fast so we weren’t late. I remember when he shut down.” Max hadn’t been here. He’d been so good to them, and then development and business costs forced him out of business. When she was here for Genie’s funeral, he was open; a few years later, by the time of Thea’s wedding, he was closed.
“There was a pay phone in that strip mall. It’s gone, too.” Carson glanced at Nick. “Do you think Beck will give you the tape?”
“I don’t need Beck. The tape was part of evidence. It’s with the DA’s office.”
“He’s going to find out.”
“Let him.” Nick glanced at Max. “Are you ready for a battle?”
“Hell, yes.”
*
Two hours later, Max and Nick listened to the 911 tape. The voice, a male, was slightly distorted, almost a whisper, and it was very hard to understand exactly what the caller was saying.
WITNESS: I saw a car at the school where that girl was killed.
DISPATCHER: What is your name?
WITNESS: I’d rather not say.
DISPATCHER: You can remain anonymous, but if you can share your name and phone number it would help us verify your statement.
WITNESS: Well, um, I saw this car. See, I wasn’t supposed to be there, it was way past my curfew. And I saw this car, it was a black Honda Civic. Kinda older.
DISPATCHER: Where exactly did you see the car?
WITNESS: Parked in the lot. Right under the weeping willow tree.
DISPATCHER: Do you remember seeing a person?
WITNESS: No, just the car. I really have to go. Oh—um, one thing. There was a sticker on the back. I don’t know what it said.
DISPATCHER: Sir, if you can please give me your name so I can have a detective talk to you.
The call ended there.
Nick said, “And I assume Kevin had a black Honda Civic with a sticker on the back.”
Max nodded. But she was thinking. Something about that call was very familiar.
Nick’s phone rang. He answered, talked, then hung up. “The surveillance tapes came in. I’m going to go view them at the station. I think you should stay away from there. Beck knows I’m reviewing the Ames case.”
“Promise,” she said.
Nick eyed her as if he knew she was about to do something she shouldn’t, even though she didn’t even know, exactly, what she was planning on doing. “What are your plans?”
“I don’t know. There are all these files to go through. I want to go back to the storage locker and get the rest of Kevin’s things.”
Nick frowned.
“What?” she said. “The guy’s not going to come after me again.”
“Detective Beck seized everything this morning. I’ve been avoiding him.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t want you to confront him.”
“He has no right to those files. They were Kevin’s, and Kevin gave me the key.”