“I understand.” She understood on an intellectual level, but emotionally she had a hundred questions that she knew Nick wouldn’t answer.
Nick pulled into the Stanford Park parking lot and turned off the ignition. “I’m meeting with William first thing this morning, I agreed to go to his office.”
“That’s more than he deserves, if he’s a killer.”
“He’s cooperating. Andrew Talbot isn’t. I have your statement about what Talbot said—are you okay with this?”
“Yes. And I’m sure a half-dozen other people heard our conversation at the airport.”
“Family can be complicated—”
“Just prove it, okay? No doubts. William is a kind person. He’s also weak. He’s never stood up to anyone, not when they pushed back. I can’t reconcile what I know about him with someone who can strangle his girlfriend to death. He’d known Lindy his entire life. She was my friend.” Max unconsciously rubbed the tattoo on her lower stomach, a tangible memory of one of the best weeks of her life.
“If he doesn’t talk, unless we find physical evidence—highly doubtful this long after the murder—there’s not going to be anything to charge him with.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“I’m not going to fabricate evidence.”
“That’s not what I mean!” She turned in her seat and took his hand. Squeezed it, to show she was serious. “Kevin O’Neal’s life was ruined because nearly everyone in this town thought he was a killer. I don’t want that for William. Andy already believes William is guilty.”
“Unless he’s the one who killed Lindy and is trying to confuse us.”
“But it will be hanging over William and his family for the rest of his life. He has two young boys. You know how kids are—they’ll be teased and talked about and grow up hearing all these things about their father. I don’t want that. Either William is guilty, and you need to prove it, or he’s innocent, and you need to prove it!”
“You may be asking for the impossible.”
“I’m not leaving until the truth comes out.”
“And what if it never does?”
“I can’t accept that.”
“You should know that Beck searched your hotel room and took the boxes from the storage unit and your boards.”
He reached back into the rear seat and pulled up her laptop. She stared at it. “He went through my laptop?”
“No—the lab had it. He tried, but couldn’t crack your password.” Nick was trying to make light of the situation, but Max was livid.
“Those were my personal boards. He had no right.”
“They’re in my office, and I will return them tonight. I would have done it this morning, but I got sidetracked—”
“It’s okay,” she snapped. She tried not to be angry with Nick. It wasn’t his fault Beck got the warrant—illegally—and went through her things.
“I understand how you feel.”
“I don’t like anyone going through my notes. My ideas. That’s my life.”
Nick’s phone rang and he said, “Damn, I have to take this, stay—we’re not done with this conversation.”
He got out of the car and paced. Max watched. He was angry. His face was hard, his body all angles and rigid lines. When he was done with the call he stood outside in the fog, not seeming to care that it was cold and damp.
She used the time to control her anger at the violation she felt. She had to separate Nick from his job, from Harry Beck.
He finally got back into the car. “I have to go. I’ll tell you what I can, but don’t expect all the answers.”
“Was that about the case? Bad news?”
“It was personal.” He added, “It’s not about the case.”
Max made no move to get out of the car. She was intrigued by Nick Santini, and she wanted to know what made him both lose his temper and look like he’d lost his best friend.
“My ex-wife,” he finally said. He wasn’t looking at Max, and his eyes were damp. He took a deep breath. “She’s moving again. Says she’s getting married.” He slammed his hand on the steering wheel.
“You still love her?”
“Hell no. I couldn’t care less about her remarriage. But she’s taking my son. Again.”
He took a deep breath. “I moved here three years ago because she wanted to raise Logan closer to her parents. I get that, even though my family is in L.A. We were divorced, she wanted to be with her mom and sister. I didn’t like it, but I made it work. I knew unless I moved close to her, I’d never see my son except a couple of times a year. I couldn’t fly or drive up every other weekend, not with my crazy schedule. Now I have to do it all over again. After I finally get settled here, I’m going to have to try to get into Denver. It’s not that easy to transfer, especially out of state.”
“When is she leaving?”
“Right after school’s out. Six weeks.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“Yeah. Well, I shouldn’t have dumped all that on you.”
Max saw a side of Nick that she hadn’t before—or that she’d only caught glimpses of. That he would change jobs, forsake promotions and seniority, to be with his son showed his true character. She said, “Denver’s nice. Do you ski?”
“Not for years.”
“When you get settled, maybe I can come for a visit and reteach you. I’m a wicked good cross-country skier.” She smiled, though it felt forced.
“I’ll hold you to that.” But he was looking at his phone again. “Max, this is the lab.”
“I’m gone.” She got out of the Bronco and went into the hotel. She glanced back over her shoulder and Nick was writing something frantically in his notebook, his cell phone propped up by his shoulder.
He had news.
Max itched to know what it was, but she understood that her personal connection to the suspect kept her out of the loop.