by Lisa Jackson
Glancing at her watch again, Pescoli made a sound of impatience. Alvarez looked up, her brows lifted.
Earlier in the day, while they were grabbing coffee at Jolt, she’d asked her, “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“Nope.” Pescoli had sprung for a triple chocolate mocha with a sprinkle of peppermint, just because it was the holidays.
Alvarez had ordered green tea.
Disgusting.
But Alvarez had been interested then, as she was now. “What are you planning?” she asked.
“I’ve already done it. Gerald Johnson is coming in, in about fifteen minutes, and I think he’s bringing his favorite attorney.”
“Judd?”
“Um-hmm. And I’ve got a surprise for him.”
“Can’t wait,” she said.
“C’mon, then,” Pescoli said, and Alvarez followed her to the front desk. Right on cue Gerald and Judd strode into the department. Judd was dressed as if he were going to try a case in court, Gerald in a sweater, ski jacket, jeans, and a world-weary expression.
“I don’t understand why you insisted on coming here,” Judd was saying to his father. He glanced at Pescoli and added, “I’ve told you everything I know about my brother.”
Pescoli led them into an interrogation room and Judd stiffened.
“What’s this about?” he demanded.
“The truth.” Pescoli turned on the recorder. “I’ve been doing some checking. A few things still don’t add up. Maybe you can clarify them.”
“Be glad to,” Gerald said.
Judd wasn’t as helpful. “Dad,” he warned his father, his expression brooking no argument, “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
Pescoli ignored him and waved them into the side chairs as Alvarez closed the door behind them. “When we were talking about Aggie’s accident, years ago, there was some discussion,” Pescoli began. “You said she got tangled in her blankets and tripped and fell down the stairs.”
“No,” Judd said, “I remember Cameron brushing up against her and she fell. No one could catch her.”
“You also said that she was pushed,” Pescoli reminded, from her chair across from them.
“Well, it was a little of both, I think.” Judd’s eyes narrowed and his shoulders stiffened slightly. “I don’t understand.”
“I do,” Gerald said. “I came home that night and Cameron was really upset. He said he didn’t mean to do it, that he didn’t want to push Aggie, but he couldn’t help himself. I didn’t understand it. Then Thane’s version was slightly different. He said that you, Judd, ran into Cameron and he fell against Aggie. And Colt said you pushed Cam into Aggie, but Cam was able to save himself.”
“We were kids . . .” Judd explained with a shrug. “It was a long time ago. You can’t expect any of us to recall exactly what happened.”
Pescoli walked to the door and opened it again. Clarissa Johnson Werner stepped inside. “They called me in,” she said as a kind of sideways apology to her brother, but nevertheless stated firmly, “You’re wrong. I remember. I was there.”
“What is this?” Judd demanded. “You’ve been listening in.”
“Watching on a monitor,” she said tersely. “And you’re lying. I saw what happened that day and you were behind it, Judd. You probably didn’t mean for Aggie to fall down the stairs, but you shoved Cameron hard and he fell against her. I was on the phone, coming out to check and ... you pushed him.”
“Where is this going?” Judd demanded tensely. “It was an accident. Kids roughhousing.” But he was beginning to sweat, a tiny bead drizzling down his temple.
“And then on the ski slopes when Kathleen died,” Clarissa went on determinedly, “you were there. Skiing with Cam and Kathy. I saw you talking to them and later Cam told me you dared him to race Kathy and to go off trail where the snow wasn’t groomed. You told him that Kathy, like Aggie, wasn’t normal. That she was crazy, when really, Cam was the one who wasn’t balanced.”
“What are you talking about?” Judd said, the sweat now collecting on his upper lip. “This is crazy. Nuts. Old news and I’m not going to listen to this a second longer.”
Pescoli was expecting his reaction. She said evenly, “My partner and I intend to get to the bottom of this. We know Cameron was the killer, and maybe he acted alone. But it seems to me he had some help and at first I thought it was his twin. Colt. What better alibi? But then I discovered that your father’s corporation, under the guise of several different companies, bought out the old fertility clinic. And guess whose name is all over the documents?”
Judd didn’t flinch. “We buy a lot of companies. Especially small medical facilities.”
Pescoli leaned back in her chair. “You want to tell us just what your relationship was with your brother, Cameron?”
“My brother was crazy.”
“And one sister was mentally challenged, another bipolar. Huh. Looks like mental problems aren’t just limited to the women your father sired. I think it only makes sense that Cameron had someone helping him along, giving him a little mental . . . ‘shove’ you might say.”
“You’re the one who’s out of her mind, detective!” Judd’s face flushed red, his one hand clenched into a fist.” He kicked out his chair and walked to the door. “This interview is over!”
“We’ll be seeing you, Mr. Johnson,” Pescoli said.
“The hell you will!” He slammed out of the room and Gerald, looking deeply concerned, followed a few moments later, with Clarissa taking up the rear.
When they were alone Pescoli turned to Alvarez and said, “Well?”
Alvarez half smiled. “Well. We’re going to nail him, aren’t we?”
“Count on it.”
They walked out of the room together and Alvarez glanced up at Pescoli as they reached the hallway. “Another Merry Christmas, partner.”
“Another Merry Christmas.”
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2011 by Lisa Jackson LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-1-4201-0278-9