Allison Brennan - See No Evil

Connor picked up his cell phone. “Dillon’s on his way. I’m having him pick up some food or we’ll all starve.”

Julia didn’t know why she was nervous having Connor Kincaid in her house. Maybe because she’d been thinking about that kiss five years ago. Or maybe because she had unresolved guilt for what happened in the Suarez/Crutcher case and how it had affected him. But having Connor sitting at her kitchen table felt odd, so she started talking immediately about what she’d learned, just the facts, to see if he came to the same conclusion she had.

“You talked to Grace Simpson?” he asked, surprised.

“Off the record.”

“She’s a reporter. You can’t trust reporters.”

“I trust her on this.”

“She’s going to stab you in the back.”

“No, she’s not. Because I promised her an interview.”

Julia didn’t want to get into it. Grace had been hounding her for an interview since she’d become a reporter six years ago, why was a trust fund baby a civil servant, or some such nonsense.

“You know, I don’t have to work because of my inheritance, why do I want to put in twelve-hour days working with scum, yada yada.

“Now can we get back to the business at hand?” Julia never felt comfortable talking about her family money.

“Jason Ridge.”

“Yes. He was a patient of Bowen and he ended up dead. So we have Paul Judson-who wronged Billy Thompson, a member of Wishlist-dead. We have Jason Ridge-a patient of Bowen-dead. And Victor Montgomery-who wronged Emily, a member of Wishlist-dead, too.”

“What if the girl Jason raped was a member of Wishlist?” Connor speculated.

“Don’t you think that’s a huge conflict of interest?” Julia asked. “That Bowen would be counseling both the rapist and his victim?”

“It seems a coincidence, but what else would make sense?”

“Could Jason have been a member himself?” Julia wondered.

“Describing his own murder?”

Julia shook her head. “You’re right. Sounds ridiculous. But there has to be some connection we’re not seeing.”

She suddenly jumped up.

“Oh! I called a friend and he’s pulling the coroner’s report on Ridge.” She ran down the hall to her den, then returned. “It hasn’t come in yet.” She placed a fax on the table.

“What’s this?” Connor picked up the paper. “It looks like an invitation. You going to a party tomorrow?”

“Maybe.” Julia told him about the art fund-raiser. “Grace Simpson told me Jason Ridge’s parents are big art supporters, and it might give me a chance to talk to them. But it’s a long shot.”

Connor put the fax down and tapped it with his finger. “Did you know this shindig is at Garrett Bowen’s house?”

Julia’s eyes widened as she read the invite. “What a coincidence.”

“Somehow I don’t think so.”

In twenty-four hours, the game would be over. The players were in place, the plan formed, contingencies made. Just one more problem to solve.

He handed a shot of Chivas to his guest. “Don’t go to the fund-raiser tomorrow.”

“Of course I’m going.”

“I’ve seen the guest list. You won’t be able to control yourself, you’ll blow it.”

She stood. “I’m going. You can’t keep me away.”

“I can’t protect you if you don’t listen to me.”

“Protect me?” She laughed. “I’ve never asked you to protect me. I wanted to kill him two years ago. You’re the one who got in my way.”

“I saved your life.”

“I have no life.” She let out a deep breath. “I’m not going to mess with the plan. It’s perfect justice. The irony-” She swallowed, her jaw quivering, and for a brief moment he panicked. He couldn’t have her fall apart on him now. He needed her strong, for just a little while longer.

Two years ago she had been fragile, on the verge of suicide. She’d had a gun, determined to kill the man who had stolen so much from her. He’d simply been in the right place at the right time and seized on the opportunity, not quite knowing how it would play out. Had he let the distraught and emotionally crippled woman kill the man she’d sought, he’d have been cheated out of his vengeance. A gun? Too fast, too easy.

His goal was not to simply kill the man who had wronged them, but to humiliate him before death. To destroy his lofty, hypocritical pedestal and watch him fall.

He hadn’t known her before that day on the street when he stopped her from committing cold-blooded murder. A chance meeting? He didn’t believe in luck. It was fate, giving him the spark to create such a brilliant operation. The aesthetics in each step of his masterful plan were glorious, harmonious with the overall goal of destroying injustice and restoring balance.

They were too close to victory to have her fall apart now.

He took a step toward her, touched her cheek. She leaned into his hand, closed her eyes. “You’ve been my rock. I would have been lost without you.” She kissed his palm.

They’d never slept together, but now was the time. He saw her desperate need to cling to something, to give her strength to triumph over her adversary.

Only he could give that to her. He picked her up. She was surprisingly light. He took her to his bedroom, laid her on the bed. Her eyes were closed. Who was she thinking about? Her ex-husband? Him? Someone else?

It didn’t matter. He would make her forget her weakness, give her the strength to get through the next twenty-four hours.

After that he didn’t care. He’d walk away, untainted. He had a passport and a plan.

A plan for every contingency.

After Dillon arrived, they reviewed the files and the coroner’s reports.

Dillon thought it as suspicious as Connor and Julia had that Jason Ridge had been Bowen’s patient, too. “Bowen’s name keeps popping up,” Dillon said.

Connor looked up from the stack of paper Julia’s legal clerk had printed that summarized every case Victor Montgomery had handled in the last two years. So far, the task was giving him a headache. “What happened with your meeting?”

“Bowen is a narcissist. Completely convinced that his opinion is not only right, but the only solution. He started Wishlist for cutters-teenagers who self-mutilate-and it grew from there. He sees himself as an almost godlike figure, certain he and only he knows how to cure these kids.” Dillon rubbed his eyes. “He believes Emily broke down and acted out on her fantasy.”

“Damn him,” Julia muttered.

Connor squeezed her hand. “What a jerk.”

“I couldn’t get more out of him,” said Dillon.

“Maybe he has something on his home computer we can use,” Connor said.

“Breaking and entering is illegal,” Dillon reminded him.

“Not if you’re invited into his house.”

“I don’t think we’ll be welcome.”

Julia handed Dillon the invitation. “The Chandler Foundation is sponsoring a fund-raiser at Bowen’s house tomorrow night. I’m on the Foundation board, though I don’t usually go to events. Not since Matt died. But I had Sarah, my assistant, RSVP for us.”

“All of us?”

“I’d like you to come.”

“I’d love to nail the bastard with conspiracy to murder,” Connor said.

“It would actually be incitement,” Julia corrected without thinking.

Connor growled. “Spoken like a damn attorney.”

“I am a damn attorney.”

Dillon ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat. He held up a thin file. “Did you look at Montgomery’s autopsy report?”

Julia nodded. “What do you think?”

“I was surprised, Montgomery didn’t actually die from blood loss.”

“Yeah, he choked to death,” Julia said.