Allison Brennan - Playing Dead

Confirmed his tenure with UC Davis.

Six years with Madison, Bergstrom, Truedell amp; Smith. Three years with Johnson amp; Mather. One-year internship with Young, Blaine, Forsyth amp; Associates. Graduate USC law school, 1990. Graduate UNLV, 1987. Born 1964 in Phoenix, Arizona.

Her eye went back to Johnson amp; Mather. She recognized all three law firms, but that one. .

Her hand started shaking as she typed in another search.

George Prescott with Johnson amp; Mather was her father’s defense counsel. During the same time that Don Collier was on staff.

Don Collier had been responsible for reviewing her father’s case file for the Project, and rejected looking into it. Don Collier had been Oliver Maddox’s advisor. Had Maddox known that Collier had been with the same law firm that represented her father at trial? Claire had to assume he did. . he was a law student. He would definitely have known who represented her father. And if he was doing research, he would have figured out that Collier was there at the same time. That there was a huge conflict of interest. Collier knew more about the case than he’d admitted.

She dialed Randy Sizemore at the Western Innocence Project. It took several minutes, and a threat to come by and sit in the office until closing, before he came on the phone. “Ms. O’Brien, I don’t see how I can help you any more than I already have.”

“One question. Please.”

“One.”

“Do you allow the attorneys reviewing case files to assess cases they’ve worked on, or where one of their colleagues worked on it?”

“Of course not. That would defeat the purpose of our checks and balances system.”

“Do the attorneys know this?”

“Of course they do. They simply recuse themselves from reviewing the file. It’s not a problem. I have dozens of attorneys who review files for me.”

“Thank you.”

“May I ask why?”

“You told me that Don Collier reviewed State of California v. O’Brien and deemed it a just conviction.”

“Yes.”

“Collier worked for the same law firm as my father’s attorney. Johnson amp; Mather.”

“That’s not possible.”

“It’s not? Why?”

“Don would have told me.” Randy Sizemore didn’t sound so sure of himself.

“So you didn’t know.”

“Ms. O’Brien, I don’t know what you’ve found, but there must be a logical explanation.”

“Thank you for your time.” She hung up. She didn’t think that Sizemore had known about Collier, but since they were friends, she didn’t want him to tip Collier off that she was onto him.

“Claire?”

She jumped, turned, and saw her friend Jayne standing in the doorway.

“You scared the hell out of me.”

“What are you doing?”

“Background check.”

Jayne frowned. “J.T. called me this morning about you. Asked me to monitor your database usage. He’s a little worried.”

Claire straightened. J. T. Caruso was one of the principals of her firm. “Worried? Why?”

“He didn’t say, but, well, I did a little research and I think he found out your dad is in Sacramento.”

Claire’s stomach dropped. “How could he know that? How did you know?”

“The FBI has a surveillance tape of your dad in Redding. And then there’s the buzz around the D.A.’s office that he’s surrendering today. J.T. knows people there. And in the FBI.”

“I’m not doing anything illegal,” Claire said.

“Just watch yourself, okay?”

Claire didn’t want to be fired, she loved her job, but her father’s innocence and safety were more important than her career.

“I’ll be careful.”

Jayne nodded. “If you need me for anything, you know how to reach me.”

“I have a question. A computer question.”

Jayne sat down on the corner of Claire’s desk. “What?”

“How could a digital file disappear?”

“You need to be more specific.”

“Don’t ask me why.”

“All right.”

“There’re two missing coroner’s reports. They are archived digitally and kept in a data warehouse. They are in the log, but not on the tape.”

“Is there other data on the tape?”

“I think so.”

“Well, if there isn’t, the tape was corrupted. Someone didn’t check once they burned the tape or the disk that the data was readable or even there. It happens all the time because people are lazy. But if there’s other data on the tape, then those files were never copied over.”

“You can’t just delete them?”

“Most data warehouses store data on unrewritable software, to prevent accidental deletion of data. There are a lot of protections in place. Climate controls, backups of all data, and-”

“Backups? Why would they need a backup?”

“Most good archive systems have a searchable system, then a condensed data file that has everything they have in the searchable system. So if there’s some big catastrophe, they can re-create the data files.”

“Is there a way to erase some files and not the others?”

“There’s a way to do everything, Claire. But it wouldn’t be easy. They’d need access and everything leaves a trail. It’s easier to leave a false trail than no trail. Unless you’re really good.”

“Like you.”

Jayne smiled.

“But if it was never there. .”

“If it was never there, you can’t do anything about it, but then there shouldn’t be a record of the data in the log. Unless the log was manually created, which sort of defeats the purpose of eliminating human error. If there’s a log of the files, and they’re just gone, then they’re still there.”

“Stop. You’ve confused me.”

“Anything deleted isn’t really deleted. Unless the tape is completely wiped-and there’re ways of doing that-then the data is still there. It’s just hidden.”

“Could you find it?”

“If it’s there, I can find it.”

“Would you do me a favor?”

“Depends.”

“I have a friend in the coroner’s office. He has access to the archives. He’s the one who discovered the files were missing. If I clear it with him, can you help him find the hidden files?”

“Between you and me, right?”

Claire pretended to zip her lip and toss away the key.

Jayne nodded. “Okay.”

Jeffrey Riordan arrived in Sacramento just after ten that morning. He’d had to suffer through traffic almost the entire drive from San Francisco-it had taken three hours when it should have taken two. He drove directly to Richie’s house. Chad Harper answered the door.

“Clue me in, Harper. What the fuck is going on? Hamilton has called me a half-dozen times in the last two days. It’s usually Richie who panics, not Judge Prozac.”

“You know everything, except the latest news. Hamilton is on the phone with Richie. The district attorney is meeting right now with O’Brien’s attorney to arrange terms of surrender.”

“Good! Get him back into custody. Take care of him once and for all.”

“There’s a little problem.”

“What?”

“The FBI is involved.”

“Shit.”

They didn’t have a mole in the FBI office. Local government, local law enforcement, D.A.’s office-within reach, they had at least one person under their thumb. But the FBI? None. And it irked Jeffrey. He had one, but only in Washington. That sure as hell wouldn’t help him here in Sacramento.

He started up the stairs, but Harper called him back. “I had a call from Isleton.”

“Isleton? Who the fuck cares about-” He stopped. “Dammit, I knew we should have offed Barney when he moved back to Sacramento.”

“Jeffrey, sometimes murder isn’t the best solution. Barney knew nothing of Lowe’s arrangement with Taverton. He went to L.A., bought a bar, lost a bunch of money, returned to his hometown. Nothing strange there. Killing him? No. Maddox didn’t learn anything from him. He’s not talking because he knows shit. If he knew anything, our snitch would have heard.”