Amanda Stevens - Gallagher Justice

“Why?”

“She said she’d feel a lot better if they had someone nearby they could call if they...got into trouble.” The irony was devastating. Fiona had to work to keep a tremor from her voice. The guilt, for a moment, was almost overwhelming.

“When was the last time you saw Alicia?” Doggett asked.

“Last winter. She, Lexi, and I had dinner just before they left to go home for the holidays.”

“Did she mention any problems she might have been having? Trouble with a boyfriend? A professor? Anything like that?”

Fiona shook her head. “We didn’t talk about anything personal. I don’t think either of them would have felt comfortable confiding in me about their private lives. I’m sure the only reason they agreed to see me at all was to appease their mother.”

“Did you have dinner with them often?”

“Only a couple of times.”

“Did you have the impression that Alicia got along with her parents?”

Fiona glanced at him in surprise. “As far as I know. I never saw her with her stepfather, but Lori and Alicia were very close.”

“What about the sisters?”

“They were inseparable.”

“But you did say that you didn’t know the girls all that well, right? And you hadn’t seen much of the mother in recent years?”

Fiona hesitated. “It was my impression they were all very devoted.”

“Still,” he said, “Families have problems. It would be pretty unusual if they didn’t tick each other off at least once in awhile.”

“All I can tell you is that I never saw it,” Fiona said a trifle impatiently.

He didn’t press the point further. “So you haven’t seen or talked to Alicia since before Christmas.”

“No.”

“Tell me about the message you got from her last week.”

Fiona closed her eyes briefly. “I was in court when she called, and by the time I got her message, I was swamped with meetings and interviews. I completely forgot about it.”

“She called on your cell phone?”

Fiona nodded. “I gave them my cell phone number because I’m hardly ever at home.”

“What was the message?”

Fiona frowned, trying to recall Alicia’s exact words. “She identified herself and then she asked me to call her back. She said she needed to talk to me.”

“Did she sound frightened? Anxious?”

“I don’t remember noticing anything out of the ordinary about her tone or the message. I assumed she wanted to set up another dinner before she and Lexi went home for the summer break. I intended to call her back in a day or two when my schedule lightened up.”

“But you never did.”

“No.”

Behind her, Fiona heard the rasp of the zipper closing on the body bag, but she didn’t turn. She didn’t want to look. Didn’t want to see that face, so rigid and silent but still so beautiful in death.

“I have to call Lori,” she murmured. But it was a call Fiona dreaded making more than anything in the world.

“Don’t make that call just yet,” Doggett said.

Fiona glanced at him. “She has a right to know what’s happened to her daughter.”

“The mother may be a personal friend of yours, but this is still a homicide investigation,” he said gruffly. “And you know as well as I do that first impressions on hearing this kind of news are important. I’d appreciate you letting me get in touch with the parents when I feel the time is right.”

Fiona frowned. “And when will that time be, detective?”

“You let me worry about that.”

“What about Lexi? Someone has to tell her, and I don’t think she should hear something like this from a complete stranger.”

But Doggett was no longer listening to her. He was staring over her shoulder, scowling deeply. Fiona turned to see what had drawn his attention.

She sucked in a sharp breath. Frank Quinlan had just arrived with a couple of uniformed minions in tow. He stepped under the crime scene tape and bulldozed his way through the alley. Those not in his immediate orbit scurried for cover.

Quinlan was a stockily built man with close-set eyes and a hawkish nose that gave him a mean, predatory look he’d perfected to his advantage over the years. He was intimidating, arrogant, and had so many connections in the department, knew so much dirt on city officials, that even his superiors were afraid of him.

Fiona consciously straightened her posture because she knew that in a one-on-one confrontation with Quinlan, her height was her advantage. Men like Quinlan couldn’t stand tall women.

He strode past her to Doggett and stabbed a finger in her direction. “What the hell is she doing here?”

That was like him, not to speak to her directly, Fiona thought. Jerk . She pitied the women under his command.

“Commander, this is Fiona Gallagher. She’s an ASA—”

Quinlan cut off Doggett’s introduction with an obscenity. “I know who she is, Doggett. I asked what she’s doing here.”

“Deputy Chief Fox asked for an ASA on the scene to advise.” Fiona was pleased that her voice sounded smooth and professional, as if his little tirade didn’t bother her at all.

He whirled. “Let me give you a piece of advice, Gallagher. Stay the hell out of our way. You interfere with this investigation, you’ll have me to answer to.”

“And if you screw up my case, you’ll have me to answer to,” she shot back. “I expect to be notified the moment you have a suspect in custody. I want to be present for the interrogation.”

Her insinuation was crystal clear, and if there had been sufficient light where they stood, Fiona was certain she would have witnessed Quinlan’s face turn a dark, livid purple. As it was, his rage rendered him incapable of speech for a moment before he sputtered another obscenity, then turned on his heel and stalked off.

Milo materialized beside Fiona. She hadn’t even known he was around, but he must have heard the sordid little showdown, because he muttered, “Asshole,” in a low voice, then said anxiously, “Are you okay?”

She shrugged. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Doggett said behind her, “What the hell was that all about?”

She turned. “Let’s just say, I’m not one of Commander Quinlan’s favorite people.”

“Yeah, I got that,” he said dryly. “You want to clue me in on what’s going on?”

Before Fiona could answer, Milo said, “You ever hear of the Fullerton Five, detective?”

“You mean those guys who killed that little girl a few years back?” Doggett’s expression subtly altered. “Wait a minute.” He glanced at Fiona. “Gallagher. That’s why I know you. You’re the prosecutor who went after Quinlan when one of those guys brought a lawsuit against the department. No wonder he’s pissed at you.”

“I didn’t go after him,” Fiona argued. “Allegations were brought against him and some of the detectives under his command that I believed to be credible. I cooperated with the IAD investigation because I wanted to get at the truth.”

“He was cleared by Internal Affairs and by the Office of Professional Standards,” Doggett said. “You still believe he coerced those confessions?”

Fiona shrugged. “I know I can’t prove it. But I learned a long time ago that this is a town built on clout and cronyism. I’ve had to accept that justice is sometimes hard to come by.”

“Yeah,” Doggett said with a frown. “I guess that’s a lesson we’ve all had to learn.” He glanced back down at the body bag, then turned on his heel and disappeared into the darkness.

* * *

FIONA STARED OUT THE CAR window as Milo drove her home a little while later. They were just coming back from Lexi and Alicia’s apartment on the north side of the city, near the university. Doggett had agreed to let Fiona be present when he broke the news to Alicia’s sister, but when they arrived at her apartment, no one was home.