Notorious

by Allison Brennan

  “And I always said,” Max said, “that Kevin would never have done it.”

  “So you did. You were the only one, other than his mother. But juries don’t listen to the parents of the accused.” Carson assessed her.

  “Kevin knew Lindy was cheating on him when he broke up with her.”

  “But,” Carson countered, “according to statements, he didn’t know who it was, and was obsessed with finding out.”

  “He wanted to know.” She glanced at Nick. She saw in his expression that he was thinking about William—so was she.

  Carson said, “You grew up the way I thought you would.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a compliment.”

  “It is. You were unusually self-confident when you were eighteen. Very self-aware. You didn’t let the prosecutor under your skin.”

  “If I told you that Kevin lied about his alibi, and I could prove he was nowhere near Lindy’s house or the school the night she died, what would you say?”

  “I’d say either you fabricated evidence, or the killer called in the anonymous tip.”

  Max told him about Olivia Langstrom and what she’d said about the night Lindy died. “Kevin told me this the day the jury came back divided. I haven’t spoken to him since then. I told Detective Beck, and he didn’t believe me, but he questioned Olivia and she denied it.”

  Carson frowned “I never knew that.”

  “When I asked Olivia, she admitted to it. She lied because Beck questioned her in front of her abusive father.”

  “Why didn’t she come forward?”

  “She claimed she was scared of her father. Kevin said he was innocent and therefore didn’t need Olivia’s alibi. But the trial and the weight of the hung jury killed him. He left me a letter and confessed to his suicide. He also said he was dying. Proof should be in the autopsy report, which I don’t have.”

  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.”

  “He claims they’re documents important to an unsolved homicide. He got a warrant.”

  She looked at her desk where the files she’d already taken were spread out. “These are my files, he
can’t touch them. I’ll get those back—I’ll petition the court. That bastard. You know he’s not looking for another killer. He never believed Kevin was innocent.”

  “I’m not arguing with you, but right now it’s touchy. Just stay away, please.”

  Max didn’t want to agree—she wanted to get in Beck’s face. But she had other things to do.

  The weeping willow tree.

  Only one person she knew would have called the large, old willow tree in the middle of the Atherton Prep parking lot the weeping willow tree.

  “I’ll stay away from him. For now.”

  * * *

  Max convinced her grandmother to loan her the two-seater Jaguar Eleanor rarely drove. She took a taxi to the house and avoided a long conversation with her grandmother, before taking the Jag and driving to Andy Talbot’s office. His secretary gave her the runaround, but eventually Max realized he wasn’t there. She left and called him from the parking lot.

  He didn’t answer his cell phone.

  “Dammit, Andy!”

  She didn’t want to believe that Andy had made that anonymous call, but she knew in her heart it was true. Nick and Carson believed that whoever made the call was Lindy’s killer—which meant that Andy had killed her.

  But why? There was no damn reason!

  She slammed her fist on the steering wheel and called William.

  “I need to see Andy; he’s avoiding me.”

  “He’s just angry with you, but he’ll get over it. He always does.”

  “William, I’m serious.”

  “Why?”

  She didn’t say anything. She didn’t know if she could trust her cousin.

  William sighed. “Andy’s on his way to the airport. He has a business trip.”

  “Going where?”

  “China.”

  “Kind of sudden, don’t you think?”

  “I’m sure it’s been planned for a while, he doesn’t keep me apprised of all his business trips,” he said with thinly veiled sarcasm. “What’s going on, Maxine?”

  She hung up and headed for San Francisco International Airport.

  It was two in the afternoon, so rush hour hadn’t started yet, but Max was still frustrated that it took thirty minutes to get to the international terminal. She’d used the time wisely, however, by conning Andy’s secretary into giving her the flight information. It was scheduled to leave in just under an hour; he’d probably already gone through security.

  Max bought a ticket to get through security check, then she detoured to Andy’s gate.

  He was sitting in an open bar, drinking Scotch, across from the boarding area. She stood in front of him and didn’t say a word.

  He looked up and stared. He raised his glass to his lips, sipped, and put it down, never breaking eye contact.

  She stepped forward and said quietly, “Do you remember when we were freshmen and Duncan was a junior? He wasn’t paying attention, arguing with his girlfriend or something, and backed his car into the willow tree? I said, now it’s a weeping willow tree. And you called it the weeping willow tree from then on. Maxine, meet me at the weeping willow tree, you’d tell me. Or, Maxine, I’m parked next to the weeping willow tree. I always thought it was cute, but you were the only one who called it that, other than me. You kissed me for the first time, up against the weeping willow tree.”

  “Sit down and have a drink.”

  She took his Scotch from his hand and drained it, then put it down on the table. “Kevin didn’t kill Lindy. His car was never parked next to the weeping willow tree the night she died. Why did you frame him?”

  “You don’t want to do this.”

  “Someone attacked me last night when I found Lindy’s diary. I thought it was Lindy’s killer, that her diary contained evidence against him. That means you attacked me.”

  “I didn’t know you were attacked.” He briefly glanced down. Lying? Guilt?

  She pointed to the scrape on the side of her face and the bruise on her nose. “I’m good with makeup, but even you can see the bruises.”

  “I didn’t kill Lindy.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

  “I don’t believe you. You made the call.”

  “I had to.”

  “Someone held a gun to your head?”

  “I was protecting someone.”

  She stared at him, her mouth open, feeling foolish for wanting to believe him. For wanting to believe she hadn’t been so horribly wrong about Andy Talbot for all these years. She’d slept with him—not only that, he’d been her first. Her first for everything. For sex, for love, for betrayal.

  But he was willing to send an innocent man, their friend, to prison to protect someone else. That meant only one thing: family.

  “I’ve known you since I was ten years old. I loved you once. Tell me who you’re protecting.”

  “No.”

  “Yes!”

  She hadn’t meant to raise her voice, but the patrons around her glanced at them. She took one step closer and was only inches from Andy’s face. “If you don’t think I won’t call security and have you kept off that plane, you’re wrong. I will use every contact I have, every amount of charm and wits to make sure you are arrested.”

  “You do that, you destroy your own family.”

  Mixed emotions flooded through her. But she stood firm. “Tell me the truth, Andrew.”

  His jaw was tight, trembling, and his eyes were glassy. Alcohol? Fear? Regret? Max didn’t care. She needed the truth.

  “That night, when Lindy died, William came to my house after midnight and said he and Lindy had gotten into a huge fight. He admitted they’d been bed buddies for a year—even while he was dating Caitlin and Lindy was with Kevin. He said he’d been vicious with her, accusing her of all sorts of shenanigans, when she broke up with him. Said she didn’t want to go public, that she didn’t trust him, that she wanted a clean break. He left my house at one, and I went over to her house, just to talk to her. If William was that upset, she must be, too. I found her in the clubhouse. She was dead. I was … in shock. I stared at her body. Then I knew William was going to go to jail. I thought of you because—”

  “Don’t. Don’t put me in this!” She pounded her fist on the bar. This wasn’t what she thought she’d hear. Why did she think that she would have accepted the truth better if Andy had killed Lindy?

  Except, how could she even believe him? Maybe he was lying … again.

  “William was like your brother. And I thought of me, because I’ve been his best friend our entire lives. I love him more than my own brothers, because he’s always been there for me. Always. So I was there for him. I picked her up and was going to put her in her pool knowing that would mess with any evidence, at least enough for reasonable doubt. But the pool house at the school was closer, and there was a car in her driveway, I didn’t know who might be home. And I thought the longer before she was found, the better chance that all the evidence would be gone.”

  “If I believe you, that makes you an accessory after the fact.”

  “I did it for you and William.”

  “What did William say when you told him?”

  “We never talked about it.”

  “What?” She had to be hearing wrong. “You cleaned up after your best friend killed someone in anger and you never discussed it? Not even a wink, wink, nod, nod?”

  Max shook her head. This just wasn’t happening.

  “I think you killed her,” she said. Andy was capable of losing his temper. He was affable and charming most of the time, but as she’d seen the other night when he threatened her at the Menlo Grill, and then the attack on her to get the diary. William would never have wielded a hammer. It was laughable. And her attacker wasn’t as tall as William.

  Her attacker wasn’t as tall as Andy either, she realized.

  “I am telling you the truth.” He looked over her shoulder. “My flight is boarding.”

  “No.”

  “You can’t stop me, Max.”


  “Why are you fleeing the country if you’re so innocent?”

  “It’s a business trip. I’ll be back in ten days.”

  “You’re not going. Do you realize Lindy might have been alive when you dropped her in the pool?”

  “She was dead.”

  “The coroner reported that there was water in her lungs. You’ll never know if you really did kill her. You might have been able to save her life.”

  “You fucking bitch. That’s not true!”

  Behind her, she heard, “Andrew Talbot, you’re under arrest.”

  She turned and was stunned to see Nick with two Homeland Security guards and two Menlo Park police officers. She stared at him, not quite making the connection.

  “Why are you here?”

  “To arrest Mr. Talbot.”

  She blinked, glanced from Nick to Andy. Andy looked as surprised as she felt. “How did you know?”

  Nick tilted his head. “Know what?”

  “Why are you arresting him?”

  “We got the surveillance photos from outside your hotel. He was the person following you in the black sedan on Tuesday.”

  Max whipped around and faced Andy again. “You followed me? Did you attack me too?”

  “I would never hurt you!”

  But he wasn’t looking at her. He was lying. She felt ill.

  “He wouldn’t,” Nick said, “but he would hire someone. We found the guy, got his van on surveillance cameras outside the storage unit where you were attacked last night. He’s in holding. He’s already talked. He also admitted to breaking into Kevin O’Neal’s apartment when you were there last week.”

  Max turned to Andy and said, “Where’s Lindy’s diary?” When Andy didn’t say anything, she said, “Where, dammit!”

  Max reached back to hit him and Nick caught her wrist. “I would love to let you deck him. But I can’t, at least not in front of all these witnesses and security cameras that could very easily get leaked.”