“Fine. If we can’t use the polygraph, how do we prove she’s lying?”
“We don’t have to. I already know.”
“Because…”
“Did you see her eyes?”
“Yes. Brown. Large.”
“Did you notice the crinkling lines? When she smiled?”
“I don’t recall that she ever smiled.”
“She did. When she talked about how much she used to enjoy going over to the Faulkner home.”
“Okay. And you saw crinkling lines?”
“Right here.” Mike pointed to the corner of his eye. “An authentic smile engages the whole face, including the crinkling lines, in a generally relaxed expression. A lying smile doesn’t. When it doesn’t come naturally-when it’s being put on for show-the mouth may change, but the face doesn’t.”
“So you’re saying there were no crinkling lines.”
“There were, actually, but they were more crow’s-feet than laugh lines. It wasn’t authentic.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. And there’s more. Just before she smiled, there was a flash of-I don’t know. Didn’t last for even a second. She wiped it away and manufactured the fake smile. But for a fleeting instant before that, there was… something else.”
“Which was?”
“Hard to be certain. A frown, a scowl. A grimace. The textbooks call them microexpressions, and they’re hard to spot. But that was her true, natural reaction. And that tells me there’s something Sheila Knight didn’t give us. That perhaps her visits to the Faulkner home weren’t all as wonderful as she suggested.”
“Are you serious about this? I can’t wait to read your report. ‘Suspect had suspicious crinkly lines.’ “
“Don’t laugh, Baxter. Knowing who is and isn’t telling you the truth is critical to being an effective homicide investigator.”
“Clearly. I’m surprised they don’t teach this at the academy. Crinkly Lines 101.”
Mike blew air through his teeth. “Look, if you’re going to make fun-”
“Perish the thought.” She swallowed her smile. “I’m surprised you didn’t come down harder on Dr. Bennett. Now she seemed nervous to me.”
“Some people are. Especially when the police come calling. That doesn’t mean they’re lying.”
“And she never made eye contact when she was answering your questions.”
“Who does?” Mike downshifted and moved into the right-hand lane, hoping to find an escape route from the traffic. “Most people are uncomfortable with extended direct eye contact. Looking away is simply deferential. If you see someone who’s killing himself to maintain eye contact, he’s either trying to sell you something or lying. Or both.”
Baxter laughed. “I did notice Sheila kept doing that thing with her hair. Touching it. Brushing it back.”
“True. But don’t confuse personal tics with lying. Everybody has a few nervous habits-biting nails, twirling pencils. It’s not the same thing. What you look for are discrepancies-differences between what the person is saying and what the person is doing. Saying yes but subtly shaking the head. That sort of thing.”
“Speaking of personal tics,” Baxter said, “what was all that nonsense about-what was it? Hyperthermal luminous paraffin?”
Mike grinned. “I was just giving her something to worry about.”
“So now you think Sheila Knight killed Erin?”
“I don’t think anyone killed Erin except Erin. That’s your delusion, not mine.” He paused, hung a hard right. “Even if there was a murder, it couldn’t have been Sheila Knight. She has an airtight alibi.”
“She might’ve had an accomplice.”
“And in that unlikely event,” Mike said, “she will now be desperate to get to her accomplice and inform him that his hands are coated with hyperthermal luminous paraffin.”
“And she won’t call, because you fed her all that BS about being able to trace and eavesdrop on her phone conversations.” Her head tilted to one side. “Not bad, Morelli. Will Blackwell authorize a stakeout team?”
“For this case? Not a chance. But I called for an unmarked car to watch her office. For her own safety, you know,” he said, winking. “That’ll get us to sundown. Ben’s investigator might take over after that. Mind you-just because Sheila’s lying doesn’t make her a killer. But if she is working with someone else-we’ll find them.”
Baxter nodded grudgingly. “It hurts to admit it, but-not bad detective work, Sherlock. You should teach a course.”
“I do. Every year. You’d know that if you’d gone to school on the right end of the turnpike.”
Baxter gave him a long look. “I never figured you for a teacher. How’d you get started on that?”
“There was an opening at the academy, and frankly, I needed the scratch. Alimony payments were killing me. But I found I enjoyed it. It’s a kick, really. Hanging out with the baby cops and wannabes.”
“That must require patience. Some of those new recruits are pretty green.”
Mike grinned. “Not as green as I was, way back when.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Oh yeah. Bright-eyed and bushy-brained, that was me. I thought the world was my private crime lab. Thought I could do no wrong.”
“Did that change?”
Mike gave her a wry expression. “Yeah. That changed. All too soon.” He hung a left and glided onto the highway. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get all boring and autobiographical on you.”
“Not at all. It wasn’t-I didn’t-” Her hand stretched out, but almost immediately she drew it back. “I’m not complaining. Hey-this is the first time we’ve talked for more than ten minutes without yelling at each other or threatening bodily harm.”
“Well, that calls for a celebration.” Mike stopped at a light, then turned to face her. “Sergeant, can you make a decent pot of coffee?”
“I do all right.”
“Good. I’ll bring the beer nuts.”
She looked at him blankly. “Are we going on a date?”
“Something even better.” His eyebrows danced. “Stakeout.”
“What’s your preference, Ben? Free weights or Nautilus equipment?”
“This is your party,” Ben answered. He felt distinctly uncomfortable in this workout suit. Could he tell Ben hadn’t worn it once since his mother gave it to him for Christmas four years ago? “You pick.”
“Good enough. Let’s go Nautilus.” Peter Rothko was a tall, lean man with a striking shock of burnt-orange hair. “I need to do some serious sweating. I had lunch in the corporate dining room-fabulous food, but so rich!” He patted his stomach, which did not appear extended to Ben. “Thanks for meeting me here. I know it’s indulgent, but with my schedule the way it is these days, it was here or not at all.”