“Just a couple more questions. What were you and Kingman doing at the law firm last night? And which one of you pulled the fire alarm?”
Mace looked blankly at her.
Beth tapped the tabletop. “His key card access was the only one last night.”
“That can’t be right. The other guys-”
Beth snapped, “What other guys?”
“We had some visitors last night. I pulled the alarm so we could get away. I assumed they used Diane Tolliver’s key card to get in.”
“They didn’t. And again, what guys?”
“I don’t know for sure. Maybe the same ones who took a shot at me.”
“How did they know you were in the building?”
Mace explained about the webcam on Tolliver’s computer.
“We’ll check it out.” Beth leaned forward. “Remember when you asked me what I would do in your position? Would I risk everything to work the case and get back on the force?”
“You didn’t answer me.”
“No, because I didn’t have a ready answer. But now I’ve had time to think.”
“And?”
“And nothing is worth going back to that hellhole.”
“That’s you. But you’re not me.”
“Why are you really doing this?”
“We already covered this, okay? Mona torpedoed your plan, so proving my innocence won’t work. And I told you I was going to work the case. If I go down, so be it.”
“If you do, the odds are very good that you will go back to prison and you won’t walk out alive this time. Where did you even get the idea to solve a case and use that as a way back on?”
“I had a lot of time to think over the last two years.”
“Would it have anything to do with a visit you got from an FBI agent who resurrected his career after being convicted of a felony?”
“If you knew, why bother asking me?” she said angrily.
“What did Special Agent Frank Kelly tell you?”
“I’m surprised you didn’t already track him down and ask him.”
“I did. He said it was between you and him.”
“And it is, Beth. Between him and me.”
“I didn’t think we kept secrets from each other.”
“You’re the police chief. I am not going to put you in a compromising situation.”
“What happened to Kelly was a one-in-a-million shot.”
“I’ll take those odds.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“No, Beth, what’s ridiculous is me spending over a decade laying it all on the line to protect people, only to have it all crater when someone framed me for shit I don’t even remember. I lost two years of my life in prison where every day seemed like it would be my last one. Now I’m out but can’t do the one thing that I was born to do. What, did you think I was just going to forget it? Say, ‘Oh, well, shit happens’?”
The two women stared at each other, neither one seemingly willing to give in.
Beth’s phone buzzed. She didn’t move to answer it.
Mace said, “Better grab it. The law waits for no one, not even two pissed-off sisters.”
Beth finally broke off eye contact and snatched up her phone. “Chief.” She listened and then clicked off. “That was Lowell Cassell.”
“I already know. Dockery’s DNA didn’t match.”
“No, it was a perfect match. It was, without a doubt, his sperm inside Diane Tolliver.”
CHAPTER 77
ROY SAT at his desk vigorously squeezing his miniature basketball in his right hand. His anxiety was justified. His secretary Janice had popped in to tell him that the entire firm had been sent an e-mail from Chester Ackerman about his connection with Diane’s alleged murderer. She’d gone on to say that right now Roy was about as popular with his coworkers as Osama bin Laden would be.
He’d tried to defend himself. “Janice, will you hear me out. I-”
The slamming door had cut him off.
He clicked on his computer and started checking his e-mails. Work still had to be done and he and Diane had been in the middle of shepherding several large acquisitions through to closure. Ackerman had not yet assigned anyone to take over Diane’s work permanently, so Roy was carrying the laboring oar on the legal end. He didn’t mind that, but he missed being able to kick ideas around with her, or go to her when something didn’t make sense. He wished he could go to her right now, because he was perplexed.
Your death makes no sense to me, Diane. Can’t you tell me what happened? Who killed you?
That line of thought was clearly not going to get him anywhere. He returned some calls, opened some files, pulled up some half-finished contracts on his computer, and pored over laborious notes he’d taken at a recent client meeting. He worked for a couple more hours and then checked his e-mails again. There were lots of new ones, some from clients, some from friends, and a few from coworkers telling him to basically get his head out of his butt over defending Diane’s killer.
For some reason, he scrolled far down the list and checked one old e-mail.
It was the last one he would ever get from Diane Tolliver.
We need to focus in on A-
Okay, they’d gotten that piece and run it down for naught. Roy’s gaze next ran over the initials at the bottom of the e-mail.
DLT.
It was her initials, for Diane Louise Tolliver. He’d seen her full name on several diplomas she had hanging in her office. As he thought about it, her initials being there made sense, but it also didn’t make sense. Roy quickly checked a dozen other e-mails that Diane had sent him over the last few months. None of them had her initials at the bottom. She invariably signed her e-mails, when she bothered to do so at all, by simply typing “Diane.”
DLT?
For some reason those initials seemed familiar apart from Tolliver’s name. Was there another reason she had put those letters in the e-mail? A backup in case the A-1 reference yielded nothing? Thinking back to the highly organized and intelligent lawyer that Diane had been, Roy had to admit that the woman’s employing a second clue hidden in the same e-mail was entirely plausible.
But why direct all these clues at him? He worked with her, sure, but they weren’t really close friends. Then again, maybe she didn’t have any close friends. The woman used a paid escort, after all, when she wanted to go out. But why not go to the police? If she had learned of some criminal activity or even suspected something illegal was going on, why not just go to the cops? As far as Roy knew, Diane had never done any criminal work, but she was still a lawyer. She knew her way around the legal system better than most.
But I was a criminal defense attorney. Was that why she was sending me the clues?
A sudden fear gripped him. He stared at the tiny webcam mounted at the top of his computer monitor. What if they were watching him right now? But then his fears receded. Mace had been in here on the night she’d found out about the A-1 clue. They’d talked about her discovery here. If someone had been watching and listening, they would’ve gotten to the mailbox before Roy and Mace had.
Still.
He slid open his desk drawer, pulled out a Post-it note, and hastily stuck it over the webcam, pulling his fingers quickly back as though the damn thing might bite him.
His cell phone rang.
“Kingman.”
It was Mace. Her few words hit Roy harder than Psycho had. “I’ll meet you there in twenty minutes,” he said. He grabbed his jacket and sprinted out of the office. The Captain most definitely needed a lawyer now.
He’d just been formally charged with first-degree murder.