Operation Notorious

by Justine Davis

  Her brow furrowed. “That was nearly twenty years ago. I barely remember it. Why would it matter now?”

  “Can you still ride a bike?”

  “What’s that got to—” It hit her suddenly, belatedly.

  No evidence of forced entry...

  “You think he picked the lock.”

  “A pro can get in without leaving any obvious signs. He was a pro, for over a decade according to Detective Dunbar’s source.”

  Katie sank back onto the couch. Cutter made a low sound, between a whine and a growl; he clearly wasn’t happy with things at the moment. And neither was she. It had been difficult enough keeping up with his seemingly random questions; she’d never expected him to jump around from subject to subject like that. Then she’d realized that was probably why he did it, to keep the person he was quizzing off balance and more likely to make a mistake or get caught in a lie.

  Lies of omission are still lies, and I will not tolerate either. From anyone.

  “Nothing to say?”

  She drew in a deep breath. Did he really correlate a simple missed connection to lying? She’d been prepared for him to be suspicious of her father, given the police were, but she hadn’t been prepared for him to doubt she was telling him the truth.

  “I...it never occurred to me,” she said, her voice a bit shaky. “It’s been so long, and once he left it, he never went back. I don’t think he even still has his tools. It was all part of his life with Mom, and he couldn’t bear it.”

  For a long moment he just stared down at her, saying nothing. Finally, as she was sure he intended, it got to be too much.

  “Perhaps I should have held out for a say in this understanding,” she said with a grimace.

  “Such as?” God, the man could freeze fire with that voice.

  “Oh, something simple. Basic. Like presumed honest until proven a liar.”

  He let out a short, compressed breath that managed to sound amused and sarcastic at the same time. “I’ve found it more accurate to assume the opposite.”

  “Then I don’t envy you your life.”

  “If you’d lived that life, you’d understand.”

  “And if you’d lived my last six months, you’d understand I would never lie about this.”

  For a moment he just continued to stare at her, steady, assessing, but not quite as cold. Or maybe that was her imagination. Or wishful thinking. She’d known this would be uncomfortable, even painful at times, but she hadn’t expected this sense of...almost sadness, that he thought so little of her so soon. Quickly she caught herself. What Gavin de Marco thought of her meant nothing, as long as he believed her father innocent.

  Which he now clearly had doubts about. Thanks to a job her dad had once done, and admittedly done well, but had left behind long ago. The unfairness of it stiffened her spine and she held his gaze steadily and, with an effort, kept her voice calm and even.

  “You need to talk to my father. Once you do, even if you go in with this attitude, I’m sure you’ll see that he could never have done this.” She let a bit of accusation into her voice. “Unless you’ve already jumped to your conclusion.”

  For an instant she thought she saw a corner of his mouth twitch, as if he were fighting a smile. That seemed unlikely, so perhaps he was trying not to laugh at her.

  “I intend to talk to him,” he said, ignoring her jab.

  Maybe she shouldn’t have done this at all, she thought. The police couldn’t possibly have any evidence, not really, because her father was innocent. They might have been better off leaving it all alone. Especially if de Marco already agreed with the police that her father was the most likely—and she feared the only—suspect.

  “If that,” she said rather defiantly, rising to her feet again, “is all the police have to go on, then I’d say Dad has nothing to worry about.”

  “I told you, you weren’t going to like this.”

  “And you were right.” She was aware that Cutter had also stood again, now directly in front of her. She kept her eyes on the man who was watching her so intently it made her skin heat.

  “Sit down, Ms. Moore. We’ve only just begun.”

  What she wanted to do was storm out in some kind of high dudgeon, but he’d probably only laugh at her. And that would really sting. She was calm, even serene by nature, and she didn’t like the way this man rattled her. Although she also knew she should have expected it; this was Gavin de Marco, after all.

  Cutter whined, then moved, nudging the front of her legs gently but insistently. The dog was urging her to sit back down, she realized when she had to shift to keep from doing just that.

  “What if I say we’re done?” she asked, her tone even sharper than she’d intended. She was way out of her league with this man, and that irked her.

  He shrugged. “Then we’re done. Barring misrepresentation, the client decides when Foxworth quits.”

  She wanted to exclaim she hadn’t misrepresented anything, but was afraid that might make him think she was protesting too much. So she went instead with the question his words had planted in her mind.

  “And if the client never does?”

  His answer was simple, concise. “Then we never quit.” He smiled then. “Quinn’s got a couple of things he’s been chewing on since before I signed on.”

  “And have they ever solved any of those?”

  He nodded. “Several. Eventually. Are you firing us?”

  For a moment she just looked at him. Calmer now, she realized the absurdity of it, giving up the chance to have a defense attorney of his stature working to defend her father, just because she didn’t like the way he went about it.

  And because he hurt your precious feelings.

  She chided herself rather fiercely, and pointed out to her roiled emotions that she had no right to feel hurt when he’d warned her she wasn’t going to like his tactics. And firmly denying those emotions had nothing to do with how attractive he was. Even if he wasn’t way out of her league, this was hardly the time.

  Slowly, feeling a bit more in control of herself now, she sat back down. For just a moment she saw an odd expression flit across his face. The kind you wore when you’d just checked something off on a list.

  Now you’re trying to read his mind? A man renowned for never betraying what he’s thinking or where he’s really going?

  She nearly smiled then. But she managed to rein it in and sat rather primly, waiting for him to start again.

  Chapter 12

  Katie Moore was definitely tougher than she looked, Gavin thought. He almost hated to start in again, but he wanted everything he could get before he started on her father. And so he would begin with the ugliest parts, because after that, talking about her father again should be a relief.

  “Tell me about that day. Step by step from when you got out of your car at your apartment. Every detail, whether you think it matters or not. Can you do that?”

  “I could bury you in details,” she said. Too sweetly? He nearly smiled again. No, there was nothing mousy about this librarian. He wondered if there was another occupation outside of the police or military—or lawyers—that came with so many erroneous assumptions.

  “Try,” he suggested.

  And she almost did. She gave him every step of the way, from the moment of her late arrival home after a study night at the library, from the smell of the roses, to which lights were on in the building. Her voice trembled slightly when she reached the crime scene on her mental journey.

  “I thought something had fallen, spilled somehow on the entry floor, that I’d tracked it into the living room without realizing. Then...” She swallowed and went on. “I realized it was blood.”

  From there her account matched the reports, and he was amazed at how steady she was as she recounted finding the bloodie
d, hacked body of her best friend in front of the couch. The only sign she gave of how distressed she had to be was the waver in her voice and the way she wrapped her arms around herself as if she was afraid she was going to fly apart. Not unexpected.

  What was unexpected was the urge he felt to sit beside her and put his arm around her again. And how he was having to work harder than usual to keep his brain on track and catalog the details she was giving him. Because that stupid brain kept wandering off into other places that had nothing to do with the case and everything to do with those blue eyes of hers.

  When he had finally finished making Katie go through it time and again he felt a bit too much like a mean kid torturing a helpless animal.

  Although, there was nothing helpless about Katie Moore, he noted as she simply looked at him, waiting to see if they were going to start all over again.

  “Enough,” he said, rather gruffly. “We can’t go any further until I talk to your father in person.”

  “That will be the deciding factor? If you believe him?”

  “Yes.” He left it at that. He knew Quinn would go with his instincts on the case; it was, after all, the big reason he’d taken him on at Foxworth.

  “He is innocent,” she said yet again. “He was nearly as upset as I was over Laurel. He still is, in fact, just as I am. She’d been part of my life almost forever. He would never have hurt her. He would never hurt anyone.”

  Gavin felt the strangest urge to reassure her, even though he had long ago lost count of how many times he’d heard that phrase and it had turned out to be wrong.

  He was startled—and unsettled—by how strongly he wanted it not to be wrong for Katie.

  * * *

  Cutter’s string of oddly rhythmic and definitely happy barks interrupted Katie’s roiling thoughts. The dog leaped from where he’d been close at her feet, as he had been most of this disturbing session. He trotted quickly over to the door, tail up and wagging furiously.

  She found herself amused—and thus relieved—as she watched him rise up and bat at the large, square button beside the front door. The door swung open and he squeezed through the moment the gap was wide enough.

  “Quinn and Hayley,” Gavin said. “That’s their bark.” At her look, he shrugged. “Don’t ask, I don’t know. All I know is I doubt they’re paying him enough.”

  To her surprise, she found herself laughing at that, and a bit more of the tension of the past couple of hours eased. She liked his sense of humor, when it snuck out. That a sense of humor was high on her list of desirable traits in a relationship in all those silly quizzes Laurel used to make her take was incidental.

  She stood up as the door swung open again. Hayley was the first in, Cutter dancing around her feet.

  “And have you kept things under control here, my fine boy?”

  Quinn glanced at Katie and Gavin. “Everybody looks intact and unbattered, so I’d say yes.”

  The greetings complete, the dog promptly returned to his selected place at Katie’s feet and sat, leaning against her leg. But he kept looking at Quinn and Hayley. He seemed to wait until he was sure he had their full attention before letting out a distinctive sound that sounded half whine, half growl.

  “Oh?” Quinn said, as if the dog had spoken. He looked at Gavin then. “What’s the problem?”

  Katie was sure she was gaping at this canine communication. Gavin only shrugged, so although she felt a bit silly being directed by a dog, Katie answered. “Your attorney thinks I purposely kept a big secret from him.”

  Quinn’s gaze narrowed, as if he knew quite well what that would mean. “Did you?”

  “I didn’t tell him something from twenty years ago because I haven’t even thought about it in that twenty years.”

  “The locksmithing?” Quinn asked. Katie nodded.

  “That’s a bit over-the-top even for you, Gav,” Hayley said. She glanced at Katie. “You were what, nine years old when he changed professions?”

  “Ten,” Katie answered. “I thought he just helped people who locked themselves out of their cars. But then he quit and bought the mailbox place, and I never really thought about it again.”

  “What ten-year-old would? Especially with everything else you were dealing with.” Hayley looked at her dog, who was leaning into Katie’s leg even more. Then she looked at Gavin. “Cutter’s giving you his opinion. He trusts her. And we’ve never gone wrong trusting his judgment.”

  Quinn looked once more at Gavin, who hadn’t said a word since they’d come in. “Where do we stand?”

  “I’m done with her for now,” he said, not quite dismissively. “Next I need to interview her father.”

  Katie felt a stab of irritation at the way he said it, but quashed it. This wasn’t personal. He was a lawyer approaching a case, and she was just an aspect of that case. She’d best remember that and rein in her own silly reactions to this man. Even if he was exasperating.

  “In case you forgot,” Hayley said, giving Gavin a pointed look, “she’s standing right here. Talking about her in the third person is rude.”

  Katie’s gaze shifted to Hayley, and the other woman winked broadly at her.

  “Sorry,” Gavin muttered, but he didn’t look at her, or Hayley.

  Something sparked in Katie, and her chin went up. “That’s okay,” she said blandly. “I’d rather he save his energy for helping my father than waste it on being polite to me.”

  His gaze shot to her then. She thought she saw a sort of startled amusement in his eyes. “Touché,” he said with a small nod.

  “I’d suggest you not underestimate this one,” Quinn said, and there was no doubting his amusement.

  “Point taken,” Gavin said.

  “Before you leave to talk to Katie’s father, there’s more you should know,” Quinn told him. “Brett talked to a guy who’s got a brother on the PD down there. He said they’re pretty set on Steven Moore as their suspect, but he thinks it’s in part because every other lead has been a dead end. Moore’s got the weakest alibi, but the rest is all circumstantial, and flimsy at that.”

  Katie didn’t know whether to feel more concerned or relieved. She had faith in the system, generally, but it had miscarried justice often enough that she didn’t trust it when it came to someone she loved as much as she loved her father. When it came to her father, she wanted the best help she could get.

  And that meant Gavin de Marco.

  Quinn went on. “The only solid thing they have is his phone records. Regular calls to Laurel’s number and vice versa for several weeks before she was killed.”

  Katie looked at Gavin. “My birthday party,” she said. “I told you about that.”

  “You did,” he acknowledged with barely a glance at her. Quinn looked curious, but let it go. “And what are they chewing on as motive?”

  Quinn shook his head. “They’re really short on that, too, Brett said. I told him to call you direct with anything else, now that he’s read in on it.”

  Gavin nodded. Katie supposed he and their detective friend had worked together before, on the big, statewide political scandal if nothing else.

  “And,” Hayley added with a smile at Gavin, “Brett seems to think that just dropping your name into the mix, if you decide we’re taking this on, could shift the direction a bit.”

  Gavin’s jaw tightened. It seemed that he wasn’t particularly happy with that. She would have thought he’d be delighted to still have such influence, even years after he’d walked away. She was certainly delighted; anything that turned police attention away from her father was a good thing in her book.

  “I’ll call my father, let him know we’re coming,” she said, reaching for her phone.

  “You will not,” Gavin said, not quite sharply but with a definite edge. “I don’t want him warned.”

 
She frowned. “You think...what, you’re going to trick something out of him with some kind of sneak attack?”

  His mouth quirked. “I hope I have more finesse than that, but essentially yes. Which,” he added, “I could only do if it’s there to come out in the first place.”

  She steadied herself, held his gaze, then echoed his words. “Point taken.”

  “And I need to talk to him alone.”

  If he’d meant that to rattle her, it didn’t. At all. “All right.”

  She could almost see him register her lack of concern. Good, she thought. That should prove how utterly certain she was of her father’s innocence. And Gavin would be, too, once he talked to him. And maybe that weighty name really would make the police rethink. Despite all her worry, she dared to hope.

  He glanced at his watch. “Will he be home now?”

  “Should be. Sunday’s his workshop day. Or football. Shall I drive, since I know where we’re going? It’s not far.”

  He hesitated for a moment, then said, “I’ll follow you.”

  She arched a brow at him. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll call to warn him?”

  Something flashed in those dark eyes again. “Maybe I’m more worried you’ll want to drive me into a pole when we’re done.”

  Her mouth quirked upward at one corner. “Sorry, can’t afford the damage that would do.”

  “To your car or your driving record?” he asked wryly.

  “Yes.” She smiled, with a little too much cheer. “I know a lawyer, though. Whether he’s good enough remains to be seen. Shall we go?”

  He drew back at that. Quinn laughed out loud.

  “Nicely done,” Hayley said. “He needs taking down a peg now and then.”

  “Thanks,” Gavin said with a glance at his friends.

  Katie was still smiling when she got to her feet. The sooner this was over with, the better. Then Gavin would be convinced her father was innocent, and he could put that prodigious brain and reputation to work proving it.

  Chapter 13

  I’d suggest you not underestimate this one.