by Marcia Clark
But this time, if Alex were running late, I wouldn’t wait for him. I didn’t know whether this lead had anything to do with Roan’s murder, and I couldn’t afford to diddle around. The cops might come up with probable cause to bust Graham any minute now. I needed to either find out why this secret about Alicia was important or cut the cord and move on. And I was tired of feeling like I was being lied to. I wanted some answers, and I wanted them now.
I got to USC with time to spare and realized I was hungry. I wasn’t in the mood to sit in a restaurant, so I hit the drive-through at McDonald’s and ordered a Coke and large fries. About as unhealthy as it gets, but for some reason, fries and a soft drink always seem to help a hangover stomach.
I drove to the appointed meeting place and enjoyed my junk-food lunch. Alex showed up at a quarter to two. Perfect timing. We hurried to Davey’s lecture hall and got there just as it’d begun to let out. I searched for Davey as the stream of students flowed past us. He was one of the last to leave. I called out to him and waved. He waved back and headed over. Was that a wary look on his face? Or was I overly suspicious?
He stopped to sling his backpack over his shoulder. “Hey, what’s up?”
I pointed to a quiet spot where there were a couple of concrete benches and a concrete square that served as a table. “Want to sit? We just need a few minutes.”
When we all sat down, I got right to it. “I was wondering how you met Alicia.”
Davey frowned at me. “Why does that matter?”
I forced a little smile. “Just humor me.”
He didn’t like the question—that much was obvious. He stared at me for another beat, then said, “I ran into her and the others in the cafeteria during the first week of classes.”
I pictured the scene. “Yeah, Alicia was pretty hard to miss.”
Davey was dismissive. “Whatever. We just all started talking and . . . I don’t know. They were nice; they had a lot of questions about what classes to go for, what profs to watch out for, things like that.”
That made sense, since Davey was a junior. It was time to play my hunch. I threw out my fastball. “Tell me, did you ever hook up with Alicia?”
His eyes flew open. “What? No! Never.”
The shocked reaction made me 60 percent sure my hunch about him had been right. Of course, if it wasn’t, my next question was really going to ring his bell. But I believe in shock value. I hit him with it right between the eyes. “Seems to me like she dated around a bit. Why not with you? Is it maybe because you knew she was your sister?”
Davey blinked rapidly as his mouth opened, then closed. He stuttered. “I—uh . . . well.” Then he took a deep breath and swallowed hard. Finally, he said, “Yes.”
I was right. He had known. I was glad he’d admitted it. “When—and how—did you find out?”
Davey’s cheeks were bright red. “I figured it out a few weeks after I met her, when she mentioned her father’s name: Graham. I remembered seeing the checks my mother got every month when I was a kid. The name on the top was G. S. Hutchins. I checked him out on the Internet and saw that he’d been at the law firm my mom used back then. I saw the dates and the timing was right, and then I found his photo . . .”
That seemed believable to me. “Did you tell Alicia?”
He played with a thread on his jeans. “No. I was going to, but I wasn’t sure how she’d take it.” He looked at me, his expression pained. “I mean, her dad cheated on her mom with my mom. It’s not exactly cause for celebration. I didn’t want to ruin anything for her.”
Fair enough. “Did you tell Roan?”
Davey’s expression was a mixture of alarm and anger. “Why would I tell a loser like him? No. I didn’t tell Roan—or anyone.”
I sat back and let Alex take over. But after a few minutes of I don’t knows and I can’t remembers, he gave up.
We let Davey get on with his day. After he left, I thought about what he’d said. “The only thing that bugs me is how he met Alicia and company.”
Alex squinted in the sun. “Too easy?”
Was that it? “Yeah, maybe.”
I wasn’t sure how—or if—this new discovery about Davey related to Roan’s death. And if Graham had told me about it right up front, I might’ve let it go. No one’s perfect, and he’d taken good care of Heather for a number of years. As they say, no victim, no crime.
But he’d tried to hide it from me, and Davey’s story just didn’t sit right with me. And as I thought about it, there was a pretty simple way to check it out. “Do you know where Nomie is today?”
She was the one person who’d told me the truth from the start. It’d be refreshing to talk to someone without constantly wondering what she was holding back.
FORTY-NINE
Alex scrolled through his phone. “She’s got a lecture. Should be out at three.”
We had time, so we strolled over to her lecture hall. But when class let out, we found no sign of Nomie. I looked around, exasperated. “Who said she could cut?”
Alex spoke with sarcasm. “Kids today.”
I shot him a dagger look. “I’m not joking. We don’t have time for this.”
He raised an eyebrow, still sarcastic. “You’d think she’d know that.”
I ignored him. “Maybe she went to work?”
But when I called Lemonade, they said she didn’t work on Fridays. I searched my phone for her number but didn’t find it. “Do you have her cell phone number?”
Alex pulled out his phone and scrolled. “Yep. Shall I text her?”
I didn’t have the patience. “No. Just call her. I want to figure this out right now.”
He called but shook his head as he left a message and asked her to call us back. “Let’s give her a few minutes. I can’t think of any reason for her to drop off the radar.”
I couldn’t, either. But that didn’t mean anything in a case that kept throwing me one curveball after another. We walked around the campus for a while, but after twenty minutes, I decided to give up. We’d just turned to head for our cars when Alex’s phone rang.
It was Nomie. Alex told her we needed to ask a few questions. When he ended the call, he told me she’d cut class to work on a paper. “She’s at the dorm. We can go see her now, but we’ve got to keep it short.”
“Fine by me.” The quicker we resolved this issue—which could turn out to be nothing—the better.
We headed to Nomie’s dorm and found her buried in what looked like several marked-up drafts of a term paper that covered the space on the desk around her laptop and her bed. Nomie looked stressed and tired. I could relate. I’d pushed every paper to the very last minute when I was in school. I nodded toward the mess. “Due on Monday?”
Nomie glanced back at the computer. “I wish. It’s due today.”
No wonder she’d cut class. She started to clear some room on her bed for us to sit, but I shook my head. “No need. This will only take a minute. Do you remember how you all first met Davey?”
She gave me a puzzled look, then squinted at a point over my right shoulder for a moment. “I think at the cafeteria.” She nodded to herself. “Yeah, Diana brought him over and introduced us.”
That was a little different than what he’d said. “How did Diana meet him?”
Nomie blew out a breath. “Hmm. I believe she said he’d bumped into her in the library, kind of came on to her.”
This sounded a lot different than what Davey’d said. “But Diana wasn’t interested?”
Nomie shook her head. “She was interested. He wasn’t.” She gave a brief smile. “Kind of a first for Diana.”
I’ll bet it was. “Thanks, Nomie.” I stood up and nodded toward her cluttered desk. “Okay, carry on.”
She was surprised. “That’s it?”
I smiled. “Told you it’d only take a minute.”
We wished her luck and left her to it. When we got outside, Alex said, “Diana?”
I thought for a moment. “Do we know where she is
right now?”
Alex took out his phone and scrolled. “I don’t see any classes for her today, but I think she works at The Pink Palace on Fridays. I’d assume that whatever she’s doing, she’ll have to go home and get ready pretty soon.”
I looked at my phone. It was four o’clock. We could just go over there and hope to get lucky, but I didn’t want to waste the time if she was out. “I’ll call her.”
She was home. But so was the whole crew: Phil, Gayle, and Davey. I decided this was doable on the phone. “I want to ask you a question, but I need you to keep it on the down low. Can you do that?”
Her voice was wary. “Uh . . . sure. Give me a sec.” I heard her footsteps. After a few seconds, she said, “Okay, I’m alone.”
“Do you remember how you met Davey?”
She gave a short laugh. “Ha. Yeah.” She spoke in a low voice. “In the library. He came on to me big-time, acted like he was totally into me. Asked me what I was doing for lunch. When I told him I was meeting some friends, he invited himself to join us.”
This fleshed out Nomie’s version of events. “Who was at lunch?”
“The whole crew: Nomie, Gayle, Phil, Alicia—and maybe a couple of others, but that’s all I remember.”
“Did you and Davey ever hook up?”
She paused for a moment. “That was the weird part. After he made that big play for me in the library, I was sure he’d ask me out. And I think I let him know I’d be up for it. But he never did.”
I thanked Diana and ended the call, then told Alex what she’d said.
He shook his head. “That’s not the way Davey described it at all.”
And I strongly suspected there was a reason. “Sounds to me like Davey cozied up to Diana so he could meet Alicia.”
Alex nodded. “In which case, I’d think he already knew she was his sister.”
But that was problematic, too. “And if that’s true, then he lied when he said he hadn’t figured it out until after they’d met.”
Alex looked skeptical. “But maybe not. Maybe he really was interested in Diana, but after he met the group and liked them, he decided hooking up with her might make things weird.”
I didn’t buy it. “What guy does that? Diana’s hot, and she was down with it. You really think he’d pass on a chance to get with her just because it might jeopardize a friendship?”
Alex huffed. “We’re not all sex-crazed apes. Yes, I do believe a guy might think friendship is more important. Especially when it comes to someone like Diana.”
I knew what he meant. “Yeah, if he was looking for more than a hookup, Diana wouldn’t be his ideal candidate.” She didn’t give off the vibe of someone who’d be into a long-term thing. I’d sensed a wall between her heart and the rest of the world. I could relate. For the most part, that was true of me, too.
Still, as we headed back to our cars, the inconsistencies—and coincidences—seemed to be mounting.
I’d reached Beulah and pulled out my keys when I thought of a way to start resolving them. “Can you find out when Alicia applied to USC?”
Alex stared at me for a moment, then slowly nodded. “Probably. Going back to the office?”
There was no reason not to. “Yeah. How long do you think it’ll take?”
Alex looked pointedly at Beulah. “I could be done by the time you get there.”
I glanced at my untrusty steed. “Come on, let’s show him, Beulah.”
Alex laughed as he got into his car. I jumped in and gunned the engine, but, of course, he peeled out first. On the way, I tried some fancy traffic-avoidance maneuvers, but when I pulled into the parking garage below the office, I saw that Alex had beaten me.
As I walked in, I found him already at his computer. I told Michy about our contest. “The truth. How long has he been here?”
Michy glanced up from her computer. “The truth. He’s been here for at least ten minutes.”
Alex called out, “More like fifteen.”
Michy held up her hands. “What were you dreaming? A speed contest . . . with Beulah?” She sighed. “Anyway, did you write down your time at the jail?”
Damn. I had to lie to her again. “They had a lockdown. I didn’t get to see him.” I launched into a description of what we’d learned about Davey, so she wouldn’t ask any more questions about my jail visit.
We chatted about the possibilities for a while, and then I went to my office and got to work on my other cases.
By six o’clock, I was running on fumes. I decided it was time to pull the plug. I’d just stood up to put on my coat when Alex came in, brimming with energy. “It’s good to have a daddy who’s well connected—though to be fair, Alicia didn’t need the help. She had a 3.8 GPA.”
I sat back down. “That figures. So who does Graham know at USC?”
Alex flipped open his iPad. “The dean of Communication and Journalism used to be a client, then became a golfing buddy.” He looked up. “But here’s where it gets good. Alicia put in for Early Decision at the end of her junior year, which is way before anyone else was allowed to do it.”
I’d never heard of that before. “What’s Early Decision?”
Alex explained. “It’s a way of finding out whether you got into your school of choice early. But it means you’re obligated to go to that school if you get accepted.”
The implications began to set in. “How did you find out about it?”
Alex tapped a key on his iPad and showed it to me. “From Alicia’s Facebook page.”
I saw the entry on her page saying she’d been accepted to “the school of my dreams.”
I’d thought there was no way Davey could’ve known Alicia would wind up at USC before he’d transferred there. But I was wrong. The picture that was starting to take shape looked very different than it had just forty-eight hours ago.
Davey and Alicia winding up at USC together was not a coincidence.
This was why I hated coincidences—because they usually weren’t.
FIFTY
Of course, that answer only led to more questions. But it was late on a Friday night, and I was really looking forward to my plan for the weekend: to sleep in. I told Alex, “Come on, let’s blow this Popsicle stand. We can talk on the way to the garage.”
I gathered my briefcase and purse, then went out and told Michy to pack up. She held up a hand. “You don’t have to tell me twice.” As she shut down her computer, she said, “I heard what Alex told you. It sounds more and more like Davey deliberately targeted Alicia before they ever met. But I don’t get why didn’t he tell you he knew she was his sister from the beginning.”
As Alex joined us I told her I’d been wondering about that myself. “Maybe he was hoping no one would find out. It is a pretty bad time for Graham’s affair to go public.”
Michy pulled her coat closed as a cold draft blew up through the elevator shaft. “True. But you always tell witnesses that everything’s confidential. And even if he didn’t trust that, the fact that he changed schools so he could meet her seems like an awful lot of effort to go to.”
I didn’t necessarily blame Davey for not trusting me to keep the story quiet. No matter how much I try to reassure everyone, some just don’t buy it. But transferring schools to meet Alicia—that, I had to agree, was a bit much. We all pondered that as we rode down to the garage. I wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that Davey had gone to such great lengths to meet Alicia. “I get that he might want to know more about her.” I’d been happy to get to know my half sister, Lisa, when she’d offered to testify on Dale’s behalf during his murder case. But that wasn’t a fair comparison. Neither Lisa nor I had been the product of an extramarital affair, and Dale had told me about Lisa the day he first walked into my office—even before he revealed that he was my father, too. We exited the elevator and headed for our cars.
Alex zipped up his jacket. “I don’t know. Maybe we’re making too much of this. The guy doesn’t have much family. No siblings, no father. Doesn’t it kind
of figure that he’d want to get to know his sister?”
“I guess.” It was a decent point . . . I supposed. And I supposed I could also understand why—given the circumstances—he’d be afraid that if he told her, it would ruin their chance at a friendship.
As we all got into our cars and headed out, I reviewed the thoughts I hadn’t shared. Privately, I’d had much darker suspicions about Davey. The effort he’d made to meet Alicia, and the fact that he’d lied about it had given me enough pause to wonder whether he’d killed Alicia—and/or whether he’d been the one stalking her. What made me stop short of actually buying those theories was the fact that Davey was the only one who had believed she was being stalked. Beyond that, I hadn’t seen even a hint of evidence that Davey had any desire to harm Alicia. I’d spent a not-insignificant amount of time with him, and I hadn’t seen a shred of rancor or resentment in Davey’s attitude toward Alicia. To the contrary, he seemed to genuinely care for her.
Nevertheless, where there were two lies, there were bound to be four. As I stopped at the light at Sunset and Crescent Heights, I called Alex from the car and asked him to keep digging into Davey.
I was still thinking about that when I drove up the hill to my apartment and found a black Range Rover idling at the curb. My insides clenched like a white-knuckled fist. This was it.
I left my briefcase and purse in the car as I got out. No sense tempting them to compound their usual assault with a robbery. This time, when the goon squad began to approach, I held up a hand and hurried toward them. Anything to avoid those vicious iron grips. When I got to the car, one of them opened the rear passenger door, and I climbed in.
Cabazon was in the seat next to me. This time I didn’t see a gun in his lap. I hoped that was a good sign. “I went to see Jorge today.”
He nodded. “I trust my name did not come up.”
I glanced at the front seat to see if either of the flying monkeys had a gun trained on me. Not that I could see. “No, it did not. And Jorge isn’t talking. So far.” Cabazon’s eyes briefly widened at the implicit threat, then narrowed with menace. I tried to keep my voice from shaking. “What is your impression of Jorge’s relationship with Tracy Gopeck?”