“Well, maybe you should retain Gia personally, because she works for him and everything she knows, he knows.”
“Shit.” She should have seen this coming. Maybe that bump on the head was more serious than she thought.
“However, I smoothed it over. But not before this guy David called me. He says he’s your personal assistant, but he doesn’t sound like an assistant to anyone.”
“He’s more than an assistant.”
“Boyfriend?”
She laughed. “No.”
Nick raised an eyebrow. “Well, he’s former Special Forces and didn’t pull any punches about what he thinks of you spending the night in jail. He’s definitely concerned about you, over and above being staff.”
“David was originally hired to be my bodyguard during a trial I was covering in Chicago. There were threats, I didn’t take them seriously, but Ben did. And it wasn’t even connected to the trial, it was about the last book I wrote. I’m not an easy person to work for.” She ignored the humor that crossed Nick’s face. “David is extremely organized and has a knack for getting information. And he tolerates my eccentricities.”
“Sounds like a match made in heaven.”
“Nick, I’m not a saint, and I’m not a prude, but I don’t hit on a man when I’m involved with someone else.” She walked over to the edge of the cell. She didn’t touch him, she didn’t kiss him, but she wanted to. He saw it in her eyes, and she smiled.
He said, “I wish I could get you out now, but we’re waiting for a judge. Beck lied to get his warrant, and I have to go to the issuing judge. He’ll be more receptive if I don’t wake him up.”
“What’s happening with Andy?”
“He has a lawyer, he’s not talking.” Nick hesitated, then said, “He made a statement to you. Are you using him as a source?”
The way he said it told Max they still had some big issues with Nick’s animosity toward reporters. “Meaning, will I testify against him?”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did. I understand. And I will testify. Tell him that. And, if you think it’ll help, I recorded our conversation. It’s saved to my cell phone.”
“Well, that’s a call for the lawyers. I have no idea if they’ll allow it.”
“I’m more concerned about William,” she admitted.
“We haven’t arrested him, we haven’t even interviewed him yet. We have an agreement with his lawyer that he’ll come in for questions at our request. We have no evidence, only hearsay—basically what you said Andy told you. His attorney is one of the best criminal defense lawyers in California. Until we have physical proof, I don’t think I can arrest him. And based on what Talbot told you—he didn’t see your cousin kill Lindy.”
He added, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
“I’ll be fine. Get some sleep. It seems we’re both going to have a busy day tomorrow.”
He lightly took her hands in his, then frowned as he inspected her fingers. She looked down and realized she’d not only scraped off all her nail polish, but she’d also broken off the tips of all her nails.
“Do you think I could get a manicure while I’m here?” She forced her voice to be light, but the pit in her stomach became heavier.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he joked. He squeezed her hands, then let her go.
Max watched Nick leave. She laid back down on the cot, but didn’t sleep again that night.
Chapter Twenty-three
Max wrote in a small notepad she’d procured from the night guard. Writing kept her focused and not stressed about being in jail for the night. By the time Nick walked into the holding cell, just after seven that morning, she had drafted an article for the “Maximum Exposure” Web site about Jason Hoffman’s murder and investigation. There were still holes in the case, and they hadn’t caught the killer. And, if Andy or William really killed Lindy thirteen years ago, that meant their theory was wrong that whoever killed Lindy had also buried the unidentified body at ACP and killed Jason Hoffman. It didn’t make sense anyway—other than location, there was no connection between Lindy and Jason. Max still believed that Jason had been killed by whoever buried the girl among the trees. Two completely different cases connected only because of location.
Nick handed Max coffee from Starbucks as soon as the guard unlocked her cell.
“It’s what you ordered on Saturday, but full caffeine this time.”
She was surprised and pleased at his thoughtfulness. “And here I didn’t think to get you anything.”
He grinned and shook his head. “I’m surprised you’re in such good humor.”
“You caught me at the right time then. And I had pen and paper.” She smiled at the guard. “Thank you for that.”
“Thank the detective,” the guard said.
Now Max didn’t know what to say. How did he know she needed an outlet to keep her from going stir-crazy?
Nick leaned over and whispered, “You can thank me later.”
Nick didn’t look like he’d gotten much more sleep than she did. He walked her through the release process, and drove her back to the hotel through a thick morning fog. “Beck was pulled from the Ames case; I’m working it. I sure didn’t make any friends in the process.”
“I appreciate it. Fresh eyes—you’ll solve it.”
“Thanks for your vote of confidence, but knowing who killed her and proving it are completely different things.”
“Boy, do I know that.”
He glanced at her. “What does that mean?”
“My college roommate, Karen—I know who killed her, the FBI knows who killed her, but there was no evidence, nothing but circumstantial evidence at best. And no body. They wouldn’t take it to trial. He’s walking free today, the bastard.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t want that to happen here. If my cousin is guilty, he needs to be charged.”
“I can’t talk to you about this case, not anymore.”