She shook her head. “Let’s not go there again, Daddy. It’s a little soon for promises. He’s still in med school. And he doesn’t treat me at all like Dylan did-”
“He’d better not.”
“He doesn’t, and for now that’s enough, okay? Please.”
Wayne reached out and again covered his daughter’s hand with his own. His voice, rather suddenly, was husky with emotion. “I just see what you’ve been through already. And now here’s another guy who’s essentially living with you and no talk of marriage or responsibility. I don’t get it. I don’t understand why you let yourself get in these situations.”
“This one isn’t bad. I promise.” And repeated, “I promise, Daddy.”
He let out a lungful of air. “All right, if you really think that. And you’re okay with money? You’re sure?”
She nodded. “Dylan left a lot of cash. I’m using that.”
“Drug money.”
“Probably.”
“You know, if you’re spending that to live on and you’ve got no claimed income, the IRS might ask you how you’re doing that. Maybe you should start thinking about a way to claim it.”
“I’m sure. Come on, don’t worry. I’m not spending that much. It’s not like I’m out blowing wads of dollars living high on the hog. All I do is buy groceries and stuff. And the IRS isn’t going to care about somebody like me. I mean, we’re talking probably less than ten thousand dollars.”
This was untrue, and said to palliate her father. In fact, Dylan had put away close to two hundred thousand dollars and they kept it-literally-in a secret place under a couple of loose boards in the crawl space under the house. She checked to make sure it was still there every single night, and several times every day. And no one, not even Robert, knew of the money’s existence. But one thing she’d told her father was true-she wasn’t worried about cash.
“You’ve got that much lying around the house? Do you know how dangerous that could be?”
This finally brought a warm smile. “Daddy,” she cooed at him, “you ought to be a shrink.” She lifted her father’s hand and brought it up to her lips. “When you got over here, I was the one all worried about everything. Now it’s all you. So now I’ll tell you. You don’t have to worry. Not about Robert, or the insurance guy, or money or the IRS. Everything’s going to be fine. I promise. I really promise.”
Craig Chiurco pulled himself up so that his bare back leaned against the headboard of his queen-sized bed. “Maybe I should just find another line of work.”
Tamara, pulling a green silk bathrobe around her as she came out of the bathroom, stopped in her tracks. “Let’s see. Man makes love to his incredibly beautiful and sexually exotic girlfriend, rolls over, and, lost in the afterglow, says he wants to change jobs. The girlfriend is a) bemused, b) confused, or c) flattered? Hint, it’s not ‘c.’ ”
“I didn’t mean it had anything to do with us.”
“Though, as you might have noticed, we work out of the same office, and quitting your job would be more or less leaving me.”
“It’s not you.”
She made a show of turning around, checking the corners of the room. “Is there someone else here I’m missing that you were talking to?”
“No.”
“Good. Okay, that’s settled. So why do you want to change jobs?”
“I was just thinking about this Townshend thing. So far, I’ve embarrassed Hardy and Wyatt by showing up on Vogler’s list, and my total contribution to Maya’s case has been to confirm the worst piece of evidence connecting her to Levon’s murder. It was tons of fun telling the boss, ‘Yep, that’s her. She’s the one I saw there.’ Maybe I’ll become a vet. No, wait, I hate animals.”
“If your girlfriend thought you really hated animals, she would start seeing other men.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Would too.” Tamara sat down on the bed. “But this trial isn’t over yet. Maybe you could do something good.”
“I’ll take any ideas.”
“Well, for starters, they don’t have her going inside Levon’s, do they? And without that, what do they really have?”
“They have her lying, again, to the cops. They get her established enough as a liar, and it seems like they ought to be able to do that easily, then whatever she says on the stand comes across as untrue. And of course it also leaves the question: Why was she there anyway, at Levon’s, in the middle of the day?”
“He called her.”
“And she just came running? Why?”
“I don’t know. Maybe some variation of the blackmail again.” Tamara went into a small pout. “So then when you saw her, it must have been right after she killed him?”
“That’s what I’ve been assuming. And I think everybody else.”
“So how did she seem? Upset? In a hurry to get away? Any of that?”
Chiurco shook his head. “It wasn’t like that, Tam. It wasn’t like she posed for me. She was there at the door, turned around, and we were face to face for about a second, enough for me to notice her, but not much more. Then she was gone.”
“And you were sure it was her?”
“It was her, Tam. She admitted it, remember? And they got her fingerprints on the doorknob. I don’t know what you’re getting at.”
“I’m just trying to get you something to make you feel better.” Now with a little heat, “So maybe you could feel like you contributed to casting doubt on what happened. Like if you saw her trying the knob or something, maybe trying to get in, and she couldn’t, just before she turned and then you saw her as she was leaving.”
“I don’t think I’m going to change my story now. I saw what I saw. You want me to commit perjury under oath? I don’t think Hardy would want me helping that way.”
“No. It’s just that you happening upon her just at the one second… anybody would believe if you just got there a minute earlier and watched her trying to get in. I mean, Mr. Hardy could ask you that anyway.”
Chiurco wasn’t warming to this idea at all. His mouth had hardened down to a thin line. “And then I’d just say no.”
“Hey, don’t get mad at me,” she said. “You’re the one who started with how bad you felt about not being able to help her. I’m just saying maybe Mr. Hardy could make it seem as if you’d seen her not getting in. Then they don’t have that assumption anymore. You didn’t see her coming out exactly, did you? I mean, she was just there at the door?”
Suddenly, Chiurco slapped a palm down on the bed between them. “Hey! What’s this interrogation? What are you trying to get at here?”
“Craig! Nothing! I’m not trying to get at anything. I’m just talking to you. What’s your problem? What are you so uptight about?”
After fighting his emotions for a second he gathered himself and let out a sigh. “Maybe I’m uptight because I’m nervous enough about this to begin with. I’m not going to go changing my story, even a little, even if it might help her. That just gets me in trouble. With Wyatt, with Hardy, with everybody. I don’t see how you want me to do that. It’s tricky enough as it is.”
“What’s tricky?”
“Saying what you saw. Keeping it simple. It’s not as easy as it seems, especially when everybody’s all over you with these little details you never thought about. I got my story and I’m sticking to it.”
“The way you say it like that, it sounds like you made it up.”
“I’m not making anything up! Jesus, Tam, I can’t believe you’re saying this to me.”
“Well, I can’t believe you’re so touchy about it. It’s not that big a deal. We’re just talking.”
“No, we’re not just talking.” Now he sat up straight, off the headboard, pulling the blankets up around him. “And it’s way that big a deal! You don’t see that?”
“Not as big as you’re making it.” She stood up and walked across to the chair where she’d put her clothes. She slipped out of the robe and started to grab her underwear.