by Lis Wiehl
“Who even knows who these people are, Frank? It could even be the same person posting under different user names.”
He nodded, but his expression was still miserable. Suddenly she was reminded of Gabe, of how he would obsess over a pimple—that same sense that the whole world was watching and judging. Only in Frank’s case there was far more truth to it.
“You can’t change their minds. You just need to stay away from looking at this kind of thing. All it will do is stress you out.” She sounded more like his mother than his employee, but Frank nodded.
“Speaking of computers, I’m going to need Jonas to help me go through the database,” Mia said. “I want to see if Colleen and Stan had any cases in common.”
Frank waved his hand. “Of course. Tell him it’s top priority.”
When Mia left Frank’s office, Tracy, Jesse, and Katrina were talking next to Colleen’s closed door with its yellow crime-scene tape. They fell silent as soon as they saw her. Tracy threw Jesse a meaningful look, and Jesse raised his eyebrow. They left, but Mia guessed what they had been saying. That it wasn’t that long ago that she had walked away from this place. And now that she was back, far from having to repay her dues, a high-profile case was being handed to her on a silver platter.
Katrina grabbed her arm and pulled Mia into her own office. “Frank gave it to you, didn’t he? Colleen’s case.”
Mia hesitated, trying to think of an answer that wasn’t a lie.
“He did!” Katrina cuffed Mia’s arm. “I asked about it, but I figured you were the one who would get it. Everyone knows how close you and Colleen are. Were. If anyone can figure out why they were killed, it’s you.”
Feeling grateful that Katrina didn’t seem jealous, Mia said, “There are a lot of downsides. It’s going to mean a ton of extra hours. And Charlie Carlson’s the homicide detective on the case.”
“Charlie?” Katrina raised an eyebrow. “I’ve always thought he was kind of cute.”
“Cute?” Mia snorted. “I can think of a lot of words for Charlie, but cute isn’t one of them. Let’s just say we have some history.”
Katrina leaned closer. “Tell me about it.”
“Not that kind of history. About ten years ago, before he was in homicide, a robbery case we were working together got tossed because he took something from the scene.”
Katrina looked scandalized. “He stole something?”
“But nobody knows what. He admitted to taking it, but that was all he would say. Just that it wasn’t material to the case. So of course the case got tossed out. And the guy was back out on the street and robbing again as soon as he got released.”
Both their heads turned at the sound of a rap on Mia’s half-open door. She started when she saw that it was Charlie, while Katrina managed to look composed.
How much had he heard? How guilty did she look?
“Hey, Mia, can I talk to you when you have a minute?” Charlie’s expression betrayed nothing.
CHAPTER 14
Hey, Charlie,” Katrina said easily.
Her face was as innocent as an angel’s. Mia was sure that she herself was blushing furiously.
“Katrina, Mia.” He stepped just inside Mia’s door and nodded at them.
“I was just leaving,” Katrina said.
Charlie closed the door, leaned against it, and crossed his arms. Mia was uncomfortably aware of his body, of how his suit jacket tightened over his biceps.
“So Frank tells me you’re gonna be heading up the investigation.” Charlie did not sound as if this was a plus.
Better to grab this bull by the horns. “Actually we’re going to be working on two cases together.”
His brow furrowed. “Two? What are you talking about?”
Leave it to Frank to leave it to her. He never liked saying things other people didn’t want to hear. “We’re going to be investigating two deaths. Colleen’s and a high school freshman named Darin Dane. Darin killed himself last week.”
Charlie’s brow furrowed. “So there’s doubt about whether it was really a suicide?”
“No. But Darin’s been tormented by the same group of kids since middle school. The day after he died, his father came to me with evidence that these students cyberbullied him. I want to bring it to the grand jury to see if there’s enough evidence for them to be indicted. And to do that, I need you to help me interview witnesses and gather evidence.”
Charlie shook his head. “Mia.” It was amazing how much weight he could load onto a single word.
“Hey, we’re already working one case. We’re going to be fastened at the hip anyway.”
“You said he killed himself—how is that someone else’s fault?”
“The medical examiner found bruises consistent with beatings,” Mia said. “And his father has evidence that his Facebook page was hacked in a really vile way.”
Charlie sighed. “Just tell me what you need done and I’ll do it. But my priority is gonna be finding whoever killed Colleen.”
The cop-prosecutor marriage could be a rocky one, but ultimately the prosecutor took the lead. Mia figured she had better set some ground rules. “Actually, I think your priority is going to be doing what needs doing, whether it’s helping me learn if anyone is to blame for Darin’s death or figuring out who killed Colleen and if it’s related to Stan’s murder.”
He uncrossed his arms and opened his mouth, but she didn’t let him say anything. She knew he thought she was harping, but if she didn’t stand firm with Charlie Carlson, he would push her a little one day and a little more the next until ultimately they would be following Charlie Carlson’s path.
“And I’m going to want briefings at least once a day on what you’ve turned up. Why don’t you start by telling me what you’ve learned so far about Colleen?”
He gave her a little mock salute. Mia gritted her teeth and smiled pleasantly. Then he sat down at her visitor’s table. She pulled her desk chair closer and sat opposite him.
“There’s not a lot to say that I didn’t tell you about yesterday.” He ticked off the paltry evidence. “No signs of forced entry to the house. No strange fingerprints or footprints. About the only evidence we have is that .22 slug, and it’s too mangled to be of much use. However, it is the same caliber as the bullet that killed Stan. And Colleen was shot in her home, alone, at night, just like Stan. Unlike with Stan, we did recover the brass, but there’re no prints on it. Colleen’s work and home computers, as well as her cell phone, are at the computer lab, and the forensics people are gonna give me printouts of whatever they find.” Charlie’s eyes, which were a stormy gray-blue, met hers. “Since we’re coming up empty-handed forensically, we need to start with the victim and work out from there. So who would want Colleen dead?”
“That’s a good question. The problem is that I can’t think of anyone.”
Charlie tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Hey, nobody’s perfect. Not even Colleen. I’m sure she ticked off someone at some point.”
“I’m just thinking of Colleen as a person. Everybody who knew her liked her. Even that crazy Tami Gordon from the public defender’s office liked Colleen, and Tami thought all prosecutors were Satan’s minions. Colleen was funny, she was kind, she was generous.” Tears pricked Mia’s eyes. Charlie was right. She was losing objectivity. But Colleen had been killed because of her job, Mia was sure of it. Not because of who she was, but because of what she was.
Leaning forward, Charlie countered, “I knew Colleen too. And she was generous, and funny, and kind. She could also be loud. And nosy. She also had a lot of opinions. Those things are also true, Mia. And just because they’re true, they don’t make any of the good things you just said about Colleen any less true. You’ve got to put on your prosecutor hat. You know people can be killed for the smallest of reasons. People have been murdered for their pocket change.”
Mia matched him stare for stare. “But that’s a spontaneous crime. And to me it looks like whoever did this planned it out in advan
ce. I don’t think this was someone who happened to be out walking with a gun and decided it might be fun to shoot a stranger through a basement window. So when I put on my prosecutor’s hat, I still have a hard time thinking of why anyone would want to kill Colleen the person. It’s a lot more likely that she was killed because she was Colleen the prosecutor. You know as well as I do that attorneys in this office have been physically attacked in court by defendants or stalked by their families after we sentenced them.”
“Okay, if that’s your working theory, that she was killed by someone connected to her job, how does that fit with what happened to Stan?”
“It sure fits a lot better than your theory, because that one doesn’t explain what happened to Stan at all.”
“It’s not my theory, Mia,” Charlie said. “I’m just saying it’s too soon to rule anything out.”
“Okay, okay, you’re right. We don’t know what really happened.” Mia held up her hands in surrender. She had to work with this guy, and if she kept jumping down his throat, he might find ways to keep her out of the loop. “As soon as we’re done, I’m going to ask our database guy to cross-reference Colleen’s and Stan’s cases to see whether they prosecuted any of the same defendants.”
Charlie nodded. “There’ve been times we worked something as a single case, closed it, and then later realized we’d really been looking at a serial rapist or a serial killer at the beginning of their career. But that doesn’t explain a nearly five-year gap in between.”
“Maybe some guy killed Stan, got picked up for something else and sent to prison, recently got released, and decided to come back and settle a score with Colleen.”
Charlie looked thoughtful. “Time in prison would explain why the two crimes are so far apart. I’m also gonna reopen Stan’s case, see what’s changed. People who may have kept quiet four or five years ago might be more willing to talk now.” He blew air through pursed lips. “Did Colleen’s and Stan’s personal lives overlap at all?”
“Oh, they both believed in the same progressive causes, although Stan tended to get a little more intense about them. And Colleen mothered him, the way she did all of us.” It sickened Mia how easily the past tense came to her now, as if it were normal and accepted that Colleen was dead. Not forty-eight hours earlier she had been fully, vibrantly alive. “When Stan was in the middle of a case, there were times she would literally force him to eat. She found this restaurant that made pierogies like he used to have when he was a kid, and she would swing by at lunch and get a takeout order and then stand over him until he finished every bite.”
“Wish I had that problem,” Charlie said, getting to his feet. “I’m gonna go through Colleen’s office one more time. I’ll ask you if I come across something that needs clarification. And I’m interviewing Violet at noon at their home if you want to be on hand for that.”
“Of course I do.” It might be easier for Violet if she was there.
Mia found Jonas Carvel in his cubicle. Jonas was always in his cubicle. He was a doughy young man with round glasses, a round head, and hair shaved down to a blond stubble. He spent his lunch hours playing some kind of multiplayer game on a tablet computer he brought from home. Mia had learned it was better not to ask about it unless she wanted to hear a lot of confusing talk about elves, spells, gold coins, and battle axes.
“Jonas, I need you to do a central case file database search for me. Frank said you should make it your top priority.”
“What kind of search?” He began ticking off possibilities on his fingers. “I can search by case type, party names, attorney names, criminal charges or the type of civil case, the judge who was assigned, and whether the case is open or closed.”
“I need you to cross-reference Colleen’s and Stan’s cases and look for any that had the same defendant.”
Jonas’s eyes lit up. “Because they were killed in the same manner! And you believe that the same person may have taken his or her revenge against both of them.”
“That’s right. And wherever you find an overlap, I want you to request the actual paper files.” Even though everything had technically gone digital, in practice a lot of prosecutors took handwritten notes when they interviewed witnesses. And those notes ended up in the paper file, but not the digital.
“I can write the code and run it for matches today,” Jonas said, “but I probably won’t be able to get the paper files pulled until tomorrow.”
“Okay. Just let me know when you do.”
When Mia walked back down the hall, it was a shock to see Charlie sitting in Colleen’s office, slowly thumbing his way through a file drawer. As she watched, he slipped something yellow into his mouth. With an exasperated sigh, she knocked on the door and stepped inside.
“What is that you’re eating?” As long as Mia had known her, Colleen had kept a cache of wrapped butterscotch candies in a silver dish on her desk.
“What?” Charlie said absently. Then his eyes followed her gaze to the bright yellow cellophane wrapper he still held in his hand. The light dawned. He swallowed with audible effort. “Oh, sorry.”
“You’re eating a dead woman’s candy?”
“It’s not like she needs it, Mia.”
She knew it was irrational, but seeing Charlie eat Colleen’s candy was like seeing a vulture settle on fresh roadkill. Afraid to open her mouth in case she couldn’t control what came out, Mia just gritted her teeth and shook her head again.
“Hey, I liked Colleen. A lot. And I will do everything to make sure her killer is caught. But it’s not like this is a crime scene. I’m not contaminating evidence. I’m just eating a butterscotch candy. As I have in Colleen’s office before, because she offered them to me. And which, I would like to point out, there are dozens more of. But if you are really that upset, I can drive over to Safeway right now, hit the bulk bins, and get a replacement candy.”
“No. You’re right,” Mia made herself choke out. He was right. She was being irrational. “It’s fine.”
He got to his feet. “Look, we have to work together, right? And we both want to catch whoever did this, right?”
Feeling ashamed, Mia nodded but didn’t meet his eyes.
“So if I do a few things that bug you, you have to let it go. And the same goes for me. If something you do gets on my nerves, I’m not gonna pay any attention. The only thing that matters is catching the person who did this. Right?”
Mia raised her eyes to his. “Right.” For a second she held his gaze, then she turned away. “I’ll see you at Colleen’s house at noon.”
CHAPTER 15
Charlie had gone to Colleen Miller’s house so many times in the past three days that his car could probably drive itself there. Now the drive passed in a blur as he ground his teeth over Mia Quinn. She was a real piece of work. Some goody-two-shoes who had probably never had a single piece of Colleen’s candy, not after considering the nine calories or whatever it might cost her. He was sure she ironed her jeans and never, ever did a rolling stop at an otherwise empty four-way intersection, the way Charlie was doing right now.
He pulled up behind Mia just as she was getting out of her big SUV that badly needed a wash. And for a moment, before she realized he was there, Charlie saw Mia’s face when it wasn’t animated by anger. Instead, it was naked, vulnerable, contorted by loss upon loss.
Maybe Charlie should give her the benefit of the doubt. First of all, she had been close to Colleen, and Colleen had good taste in people. And second, and more important, what he had told her back at the office was true. They had to work together if they wanted to solve Colleen’s murder.
When Mia turned to face him, she had her professional mask firmly back in place. He gave her a nod.
The crime-scene tape was gone, but the signs of the murder and its aftermath were everywhere. The ground still bore the boot impressions of the techs. The window through which Colleen had been shot was boarded up with plywood. All the windowsills were covered with black fingerprint powder. The frame for the fron
t door was smudged gray.
Mia rapped on the door. A second later it was answered by a tall girl with short hair that was most definitely violet.
Charlie had never met Violet before, but in some ways her face was now as familiar to him as any minor movie star’s. Searching Colleen’s home and office, he’d seen hundreds of snapshots documenting Violet’s first twenty years on earth, from sleeping infant to graduating high school senior. But none of them had shown her with purple hair.
“Oh, Violet!” Mia reached out for the girl, but Violet stepped back and crossed her arms.
“Mia.” Her tone was cool. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m actually working on your mom’s case.” She turned to him. “Along with Charlie. Violet, this is Charlie Carlson, the homicide detective. Charlie, this is Violet.”
He put out his hand, but she stared at him without moving.
“So does that mean you’re a cop?” A single small gold hoop pierced Violet’s left nostril. Tasteful, if you could consider those things tasteful. Charlie wasn’t sure he ever would, which made him feel old.
He let his hand fall by his side. “I’m with the Seattle Police Department.”
She sucked in her breath and then put her hands on his chest and shoved him. Charlie was too startled to resist. Besides, he had enough weight on her that he didn’t budge.
“Violet!” Mia said in a scandalized voice.
“I thought the jerk who killed her was the one who left everything a mess, but they told me it was actually you guys! The cops! So first my mom was murdered, and then the cops went and trashed everything.” Her hands were fisted, her breathing ragged.
Charlie had made sure his team put things back, at least more or less. So clothes had gone back into drawers, but probably not folded. Papers had gone back into the filing cabinets, or at least been left in a neat pile. Charlie wasn’t like some detectives, who would just toss drawers and leave stuff lying out, not just for suspects but even for victims. But the truth was that even conscientious investigators weren’t expected to clean up after themselves. That was the victim’s—or their survivors’—responsibility.