Carol Ericson - The Wharf

Kacie cleared her throat and set up her recording device. “That’s good to know.”

As she placed her finger on the record button, Ryan put his hand over hers like a caress. “Can I ask you a question before we get started?”

When he touched her like that, he could ask her anything. She flicked his hand off hers and pressed Record. “Go ahead.”

He glanced down at the red light blinking on the recorder. “Why my father’s story? Why are you interested in writing a book about a twenty-year-old cold case?”

“Because it is a cold case. Your father, an SFPD homicide detective, was suspected of being the Phone Book Killer, a serial killer he was investigating himself, but nobody ever proved it.”

“A lot of people said he proved it when he jumped from the Golden Gate Bridge and the murders stopped.”

“Damning evidence, but there are so many more who believe he was set up, and now all four of the sons he left behind are in some type of law enforcement. It’s a great story.” She shrugged her shoulders, stiff from her lies.

“You can count my two older brothers among those who believe in our father’s innocence. They’ve recently stumbled across some new evidence and have agreed to give it to me to pass along to you.”

Her water sloshed as she set down her glass. “Sean and Eric know I’m writing a book about the case?”

“Yeah. They’re okay with it. I told them your angle is that someone set up Joseph Brody.”

They wouldn’t be okay with it if they knew her true purpose...and her true identity.

“Great.” A smile stretched her lips. “And I’d love to see that new evidence. What do you remember about that time?”

“Not much. I was young and confused, and then I lost my dad, who was a larger-than-life figure for me.” His green eyes darkened as he took a sip of water. “Do you still have both of your parents?”

“Y-yes.”

He splayed his hands on the white tablecloth in front of him. “It’s hard to explain the loss of a parent, especially at a young age. You can’t begin to understand the hole it leaves.”

Oh, but she could.

“You’re right.”

“And then I lost my mom.” He studied his fingernails. “She turned to prescription drugs and alcohol, and Sean had to take over the parenting duties.”

“Your mom passed away.” She knew the whole painful Brody story.

“Not until I was an adult, but it was still tough. So many wasted years.”

Their food arrived, and Kacie turned off the recorder. Ryan’s soulful eyes and sensitive mouth were going to make this a lot harder than she’d anticipated.

The smell of garlic and fresh clams wafted from Ryan’s plate, putting her chopped salad to shame. She dug into her rabbit food as he twirled his fork into his creamy pasta.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before he pointed his fork at her salad. “Is that all you’re having?”

“It’s a big salad.”

“It’s a salad.” He held his fork out to her, tightly wrapped in fettuccine, the savory steam curling beneath her nose. “Try some of this.”

She tapped her plate. “Put it here.”

“Then you’ll have to twirl it up again. Here.” He hunched forward, the fork centimeters from her lips.

She opened her mouth and he placed the fork against her tongue. She sealed her lips around the tines and sucked the pasta into her mouth as he drew the fork out with a flourish.

Tingles raced up her inner thighs and circled her belly. She grabbed her napkin and pressed it against the lower half of her face while she chewed. This craziness had to stop.

“Good, huh?” He grinned, but his heavily lidded eyes looked more seductive than smiley.

“Very good.” She dropped the napkin from her still-warm face. “Now I will return to my regularly scheduled salad.”

“Just let me know if you want another...taste.”

She waved down the waiter. “More iced tea, please.”

She had to find some way to stay cool. Did all this sex appeal come naturally to Ryan Brody, or was he cranking up the charm for some ulterior motive? She’d already told him she planned to focus the book on proving his father’s innocence. He didn’t have to butter her up.

Her gaze dropped to his strong hands as he ripped a roll in two and smeared a pat of butter across one half. Although she wouldn’t mind if he buttered her up, down and sideways.

She’d never felt this way about a story resource before.

Holding up the roll, he asked, “Do you want the other half?”

“No, thanks.” She pushed her plate away, dabbed water droplets from the tablecloth with her napkin and repositioned her recorder on the table.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

He polished off the rest of his meal, including the rest of her roll, and then perused the dessert menu. “Do you want to share a dessert?”

“I’m good.”

He ordered a coffee instead and leaned back in his chair as he stirred in a swirl of cream. “Fire away. Ask me anything you want about my father’s case. If I don’t know the answer, I’ll ask my older brothers.”

Kacie flipped open her notebook, which contained sheets of printed-out questions. She dived in.

“The Phone Book Killer case was unusual from the get-go, wasn’t it? After the first two victims, the killer started communicating with your father, one of the detectives on the case, claiming he was selecting his victims out of the phone book.”

“That’s right. Serial killers have been known to contact the police to brag and taunt, and the Phone Book Killer singled out my dad. Of course, that’s one of the aspects of the case that caused some doubt about my father. Why him?”

“Good question.” She drummed her fingers against the tablecloth. “Then he kidnapped your brother. Was that some kind of warning?”

“According to Sean, that’s what my father thought. It was the killer’s message that he could get to any member of my family.”

“But your brother wasn’t harmed, which became another oddity of the case.”

Ryan raised his shoulders and let them drop. “People say Joey Brody staged the kidnapping to divert suspicion from himself.”

“Then the evidence from your father started to pile up—missing days from work, plaster found in the trunk of his car, the same type of plaster used in casts, which the Phone Book Killer was wearing to disarm his victims.”

“Too pat. Too easy.” He massaged the back of his neck. “In hindsight, it smells like a setup.”

As she reeled off the elements of the case against Joey Brody, Ryan had an answer for every one of them. He had emphasized that his older brothers believed without a doubt in their father’s innocence, and Ryan’s hot defense of Joey Brody put him firmly in that camp.

Of course they were all in that camp. Admitting your father had blood on his hands had to be hard.

After another hour of question and answer, where they saw the restaurant clear out and received several visits from their waiter with more coffee and iced tea in hand, Kacie clicked off the recorder.

“I really appreciate your openness. It can’t be easy. Y-your dad sounds like he was a great cop.”

And Daniel Walker had been a great football player.

He shrugged. “Life is full of trials and tribulations. How about you? You look like you’ve had it pretty easy—smart, attractive, successful.”

Straightening her shoulders, she folded her hands on top of the notebook. “I’ve been lucky. I have a wonderful family. Great parents, two older sisters.”

“I hope you appreciate that.”

Anxious to hide the emotion that had overcome her, she swiped her recorder from the table and ducked down to stuff it into her bag. “Oh, I do, but you’re right.” She popped back up with her phone and wallet in hand. “We all have our...disappointments in life.”