Allison Brennan - See No Evil

Julia glanced at Emily through the observation room’s window. She’d stopped crying, but her body was still curled into a ball. She looked so small. “Crystal…she has issues.”

“Everyone has issues, Julia.”

“Crystal is defined by her status. With men, with money, with society. Having a child didn’t fit into that.”

Reluctantly, Julia continued. She didn’t like thinking about Crystal and her brother, Matt, and her problems with her brother before he died.

“Crystal and Matt were in college and she got pregnant. I’m convinced she deliberately got pregnant because of who Matt was. His connections, his money, his name. They married and everything seemed okay for a while.”

“A while?”

“Matt adored Emily. Adored her more than Crystal, or so Crystal thought. She played all these mind games with him-pretending to be ill, pretending to have secret admirers-every game in the book. Eventually, Matt tired of it. I don’t know the details. He knew I didn’t like Crystal so we rarely talked about his marriage. It had been a sore point in our relationship, something I regret because we lost so much that we had before Crystal came into the picture. But I knew something was going on. Matt asked me to review all the legal documents that Emily was associated with, and he made me executrix of her trust. Then…he died.”

“A car accident, right?” Dillon asked.

It had been the worst night of Julia’s life, and she couldn’t go into the details for fear of cracking. The guilt scratched at her, trying to control her again. She pushed it back. “Six years ago. It was awful. Losing him, then battling Crystal just to see my niece. Very unpleasant.” Unpleasant? Julia sounded like her mother. That entire year had been Hell.

“And what’s Emily’s relationship with her mother?”

“Crystal doesn’t have real relationships. Unless you can do something for her. It’s all about connections. Crystal’s only connection to Emily is through my brother, a dead man she certainly never loved.”

Dillon sighed, made some notes. “I don’t think it’s in Emily’s best interest to go home,” he said, “but circumstances may change in the next few days. Right now, the best thing for Emily is to keep her here. But I don’t think she’s suicidal. I’m going to put her under a nondisclosed medical observation for seventy-two hours. That should give you,” he said to Connor, “some time to follow up on her comments.”

“First place I’d go is to her shrink,” Connor said.

“I’ll talk to him,” said Dillon. “He won’t give you anything.”

“And you’ll share?” asked his brother.

“Of course.”

Connor nodded. “The police have the house and Emily’s possessions as evidence, but I’ll follow up with her friends, her school, her affiliations, anyplace and anything to find out who she might have talked to about her feelings toward Victor. Verify her whereabouts yesterday, her state of mind. I’ll call around to see what kind of evidence Will and Gage have. I still have a few friends on the force.”

“We should regroup tonight and compare notes, go from there.”

“Can I see her now?” Julia asked, only half-listening to Dillon and Connor’s plans.

Dillon nodded. “Yes, but then go home and get some sleep.”

She just shook her head, then glanced at Connor. “Thank you.”

Connor watched Julia enter Emily’s hospital room. The two men observed the young girl carefully. Her response to Julia was warm and tearful. They embraced and both women cried. Connor felt distinctly uncomfortable. He’d never thought Julia Chandler capable of real emotion. He knew she cared about Emily, though she’d played the runaway situation a lot differently than this.

“Emily has been very forthcoming,” Dillon continued, “but there’s something she knows and either can’t remember or doesn’t want to say.”

“I think you’re right.”

Dillon said, “I was surprised to see you, considering your history with the counselor. Why are you doing this?”

“I like the kid.” When Dillon didn’t say anything, Connor added, “I found Emily when she ran away. I didn’t know-she never let on what Victor had done to her.”

“What was her state of mind back then?”

“She was living on the streets. She was scared, tired, and using drugs. She cleaned up, promised she wouldn’t…” Connor sighed. “Maybe I just didn’t see the signs. I knew she didn’t want to go home. I should have found out why.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Connor. Julia’s guilt is enough for everyone.” Dillon paused. “Tread carefully.”

“Don’t I always?” Connor smiled.

“Can you say that with a straight face?”

The outside door opened and Officer Diaz stepped into the observation room. Dillon asked, “What’s wrong?”

“The press is all over the building. I just thought you’d want to know.”

“Thanks,” Dillon said. “We’ll go out the doctors’ garage. It’s secure.”

Connor watched Julia and Emily talking. He could barely make out what they were saying, but Julia was trying to convince the girl that she should have told her about the rape.

“I would have taken care of it, honey.”

“I was scared, Jules.”

Jules. He remembered Emily always called her that. Never “aunt.” More like an older sister. Friend. Confidante.

But Emily hadn’t confided in anyone, and the pretty teenager was now the prime suspect in a murder case.

Dr. Garrett Bowen was a renowned leader in anger management. Expert witness and oft-appointed court psychiatrist, he handled an array of celebrity and charity cases, from the rich to the poor and every stripe in between.

Dillon didn’t have time to read Bowen’s numerous publications in every major psychiatric journal, but he wasn’t surprised to see Bowen was a minor celebrity in his own right with a two-book deal, the first of which was being published in three months: Exploit Your Anger for Health, Wealth and Happiness.

While Bowen handled some charity cases-and made a big deal about them-his client list favored the wealthy. Upon arriving at Bowen’s suite of offices, Dillon took note of the opulence, the fine art and rare antiques complementing the predominately modern decor. The only personal effects on Dr. Bowen’s desk were several framed photographs of his family-a lovely wife with a teenaged son. Dillon remembered reading a while back that Bowen was a widower. Another picture was of a beautiful woman of about forty and Bowen on a yacht, another an older picture of Bowen as a very young man with who appeared to be his parents and sister.

Dr. Bowen himself looked the part of quiet wealth-in his midforties, manicured hands, expensive yet business-casual attire, hair graying perfectly at the temple. Dillon wondered if he dyed it to appear distinguished.

At that moment, Dillon completely understood why Emily didn’t trust this man. Teenagers, as did most people, got their first impressions based on appearance, but unlike people with more experience, teenagers routinely stuck with that impression, good or bad. Emily hadn’t said anything to that effect, but she certainly hadn’t told Bowen about her stepfather’s sexual abuse. Dillon made a mental note to check the judge’s contributor reports and charity listings for cross-references between Bowen and the Montgomery family.

Crystal Montgomery was attracted to the trappings, the feeling of wealth and confidence. These same things repulsed Emily. If Emily had been allowed to pick her own psychiatrist, perhaps she wouldn’t be in the position she was today.

Or perhaps not. Victor Montgomery was still a child predator and rapist, and Dillon couldn’t muster a whole lot of sympathy for his death. The main thing that disturbed him was that someone had either taken justice into their own hands-never a good thing-or Montgomery’s murder had nothing at all to do with Emily. That meant running through the judge’s criminal court cases one by one.