Allison Brennan - See No Evil

Her hair was down, the waves of dark blond falling halfway down her back, held away from her face by a haphazardly placed clip.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I couldn’t relax and…I knew you’d be working on Emily’s case.” She looked at Connor with an expression that said: But I didn’t know he was going to be here.

“Your insight into Emily may be helpful,” Dillon said. “She trusts you more than anyone. Sit down.”

Julia impatiently wiped a stray tear and sat in the chair between the two men. “So what have you come up with? Anything?”

Dillon nodded. “There was one ringleader. One person who made the decisions, who came up with the plan.”

“Why do you think that?” Julia asked

“It’s the psychology of group killers.” Dillon rose from his seat, retrieved two beers for Connor and Julia, and poured himself orange juice. “When you have a killing pair, there is almost always a submissive. Someone who takes orders, does what they are told. Doesn’t matter if the submissive is male or female-though in the overwhelming majority of killing pairs, the dominant partner is male.”

Dillon poured Julia’s beer into a chilled mug. “But when you get into group killings-and I think all the evidence points to three participants in the judge’s murder-you have another influence. Some might call it ‘mob mentality’ or peer pressure. When two or more people get together to commit a crime, they’re more prone to doing things they’d never consider doing on their own.”

“Wasn’t there a case out in Florida or Georgia about four teenage boys who killed a teacher at their school?”

Dillon nodded. “I read about that case. One of the kids was older, nineteen I believe, no longer a student. Two of the kids came from solid homes. There was no apparent motive. They went to the house of a music teacher and shot him dead.”

“But wouldn’t people like that already be predisposed to murder?” Julia asked.

Dillon tilted his head. “Perhaps. Or their leader could be so charismatic or threatening-or both-that they think they’re doing the right thing. Consider cults. Most are relatively harmless, but Jim Jones convinced hundreds of people to kill themselves, most of whom probably would never have considered such an act without his influence.”

“That would play into the Judson murder,” Connor said.

“Judson?” Julia interjected, confused.

Connor explained what he learned from Billy Thompson about Wishlist and the e-mail from Emily.

“And you didn’t tell me?” she asked, angry. “Isn’t that what I’m paying you for? To keep me in the loop?”

“You’re paying me to clear Emily. If you want more than that, go get it from your pal the DA.”

“I would if I could,” she snapped. “But I’m on administrative leave.”

Both Connor and Dillon looked up, surprised. “What happened?” Dillon asked.

“I don’t know. He didn’t like that I hired Connor, and I don’t think he liked that Iris brought you in before they could retain you.” She gave him a wry smile. “We all like working with you on our big cases.”

Dillon grinned. “Thanks. But Stanton’s actions make sense, even without Connor or me working for the defense. The press are all over this case. He wants to separate his office from any impropriety.”

“I had to turn over all my cases to another prosecutor.”

Julia looked so forlorn that Connor found himself touching her arm. “I’m sorry.”

She looked up at him, startled. Her lips parted and Connor stared, recalling the one incredible kiss they’d shared five years earlier. Would she taste just as delicious now as then?

He removed his hand. Don’t go there, Kincaid.

“There are two theories that fit the evidence as we know it,” Dillon said, thankfully interrupting what could have been an awkward moment. “First, that Emily planned the murder and had someone help her.”

“No-” Julia interrupted but Dillon put his hand up.

“The second is that the killers are vigilantes.”

“Vigilantes?” Julia asked, her brow furrowed.

“Possibly, though I’d go a step further.” Dillon sat down and looked from Connor to Julia. “I think they’re young. Teenagers or college age.”

“They’re damn smart criminals for teens,” Connor said.

Dillon agreed. “These crimes are connected. In some way both victims had hurt a young person. A fellow teenager. The connection is the online group Emily and Billy were part of. Just like Emily’s case, Billy Thompson is connected to Judson’s murder, even though he didn’t pull the trigger.”

“Why can’t we just subpoena the host company and find out who’s involved?” Julia asked.

“We can’t, but I’m sure the District Attorney’s Office will,” Dillon said. “I’m going to talk to Emily about the group and hopefully she’ll give us information that we need, because we’re not going to get it from the police department.”

“I don’t even know what kind of case they’re building against Emily,” Julia said. “But they still have a guard on her door, and it’s not for protection. Iris is trying to get information, but it’ll probably be easier for me. I have friends inside.”

“If you can get the autopsy report and what they have that points to Emily, it might help in figuring out what’s going on,” Dillon said.

“I’ll work on it tomorrow.”

“Don’t do anything illegal.”

“I’ll do anything I have to for Emily.”

There was an awkward silence, and Connor finally said, “So Dil, what’s the verdict on the killer? We were talking about a profile, something to go on.”

Dillon looked at the closed file. Julia grew antsy the longer he remained silent. She glanced at Connor and found him looking at her. Staring at her, his dark eyes unreadable, his face hard and unyielding. But he didn’t look away, he didn’t have that edge of hatred she’d felt when she’d first talked to him this morning about helping Emily.

She turned away, picked up her mug, and drank. Still, his eyes were on her, his probing gaze unnerving. Anger and frustration, all rolled up in a tight, hard body.

Connor Kincaid might be a total jerk, but he was a damn sexy jerk. When they’d first met, she’d been a new deputy district attorney and had worked with him on a case that ended miserably. Two cops killed, one suspect dead, and one suspect beaten nearly to death. Connor resigned after testifying against the cop who took bribes, and two others had ended up facing prosecution for their crimes. It was a messy situation, but it wasn’t the police department’s responsibility to mete out justice. That was for the court system, the same system to which Julia had sworn allegiance.

But that case had disturbed Julia for a long time, and she’d quietly been pleased when the former district attorney had been forced from office in scandal and Andrew Stanton was elected to clean house three years ago.

She drank more beer and then caught herself biting her thumbnail. She put her hand down. Fidgeted.

Dammit, why was he looking at her so intently? What was he thinking? What were they thinking? Dillon Kincaid with his quiet, studious manner pondering the profile of a vicious murderer; Connor Kincaid, the younger brother, with his hard, dark eyes on her. Analyzing, probing, judging.

Five minutes later, Dillon spoke. It might as well have been five hours.

“The leader is the oldest and able to convince others of the rightness of what they’re doing. Completely in control, focused, methodical. A planner. Thinks about the details. Thinks ahead. Does not fear being caught. Might even enjoy the limelight of being caught. Enjoys irony. Plays on people’s emotions and is able to turn emotions on and off at will. Has little empathy for others.”