“Claire.”
He wanted her.
He couldn’t have her.
“I’ll take you home,” he said.
If she was hurt by his rejection, she didn’t show it. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. He wanted to make love to her.
But not like this. Not with lies between them.
He drove the short distance to her house.
“Thanks,” she said, making a move to open the door.
“Claire-” He took her arm, pulled her across the middle seat, and kissed her. Long and hard, showing her his feelings when he couldn’t speak the whole truth.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?” he whispered as his lips pulled back, lightly touching hers, teasing both of them.
“Okay.” Her voice was hoarse.
“Good night.”
“ ’Night.”
He watched her walk into her house alone, and he prayed he had the willpower to resist her next time they went out.
And he knew the only way he’d be able to resist her would be if he never saw her again.
But that wouldn’t happen.
ELEVEN
Steve walked through the door of the Fox amp; Goose at seven thirty. Mitch had to get him out of there before Claire showed. He doubted Claire would be early, but he wanted Steve gone by eight thirty.
“You started without me.” Steve slid into the chair next to him and motioned to the waitress to get him what Mitch was drinking.
“You’re late.”
“Got a lead on the Pinter case, but it didn’t pan out. Arrested one of his minions, though, practically a kid-but with two hundred counterfeited credit cards in his possession.”
“No shit.”
“Credit-card fraud is out of control, and until we get the big players like Pinter we’ll never even make a dent.” He shook his head. “Here we are, at one of Claire O’Brien’s favorite hangouts. But of course you already knew that.”
Mitch said nothing. What could he say?
“If Meg finds out about your off-duty investigation of Tom O’Brien, that’s one thing. You get a slap on the wrist. But if you’re involved with Claire, that’s a whole different ball game.”
“It’s not like that.”
“So what the fuck is it like?”
“It’s complicated.”
Steve sipped his beer. “Dammit, Bianchi, I went to bat for you today with Meg. I told her I needed you as a partner, that you are invaluable to the squad. So no more bullshit.”
“I wouldn’t put you at risk, Steve.”
“Why are you obsessed with Tom O’Brien? Just because he saved your life three months ago? Or is there something else you’re not telling me?”
Mitch didn’t want to talk about his own father railroading another innocent guy into prison. It still burned him and he hated that he came from the same gene pool as Rod Bianchi. But Steve was smart, maybe he’d see the same problems with the O’Brien conviction that Mitch saw. That while Mitch couldn’t right the wrongs committed by his father long ago, he could help another wrongfully convicted man find justice and exoneration.
“Let me lay out what I know,” Mitch said. “The fact that Oliver Maddox is dead makes it even more suspicious.” Mitch filled Steve in on Maddox looking into an appeal of O’Brien’s death sentence. “What if Maddox had real information?”
“And the real killer didn’t want it to get out?” Steve shook his head. “This is a wild-goose chase. Maddox’s death was probably an accident. Dozens of people drown in the Delta every year. Most are accidents.”
“Convenient accident,” Mitch said.
“Could have been suicide.”
“By drowning? Rare. Let’s wait until the autopsy tomorrow. And we have the meeting with the detective in Davis. But look at the facts. Maddox disappeared two days before O’Brien was moved into the general prison population. He was actively looking into the O’Brien case, had met with O’Brien at Quentin, and phoned him six times after that meeting. There was a meeting scheduled on the books for the Monday after Maddox disappeared.”
“How’d you find that? I didn’t see it in the file from Quentin.”
“It wasn’t, but when I interviewed the warden and the head guard of North Seg, I got a copy of the schedule. It wasn’t in the file because Maddox never showed up. He was already dead.”
“You’re certain it’s murder.”
Mitch nodded. “Steve, I’m sure as hell not perfect, but you know I’m a good cop. I smelled murder the minute I saw the body.”
“I’m not going to doubt your instincts, Mitch. They’ve been right on the money in the past. But this time you’re too close to it.”
“Maybe, but there’s more than Maddox being dead.”
“What? Just because O’Brien helped capture the Goethe gang, that psycho up in Montana, and a bunch of other prisoners, he’s redeemed from a double-murder charge?”
“That wasn’t what I was going to say, but now that you mention it, I think those actions say a lot about his character.”
“What it says is O’Brien isn’t a repeat offender. He killed in a crime of passion. Most spouses who off their unfaithful wives aren’t out to kill a half-dozen other people.”
“He risked himself-his freedom and his life-staying close to San Francisco to set up Goethe’s gang.”
“But he’s a dead man, Mitch. His date with the executioner is only weeks away. Maybe he wanted to do something noble to go out in a blaze of glory or whatever.” Steve shook his head in disbelief and drank some beer.
“Put that aside for now and look at the facts of his case. O’Brien was convicted solely on circumstantial evidence.”
“He had motive and opportunity,” Steve countered. “That isn’t circumstantial.”
“Bullshit. A lot of people have the motive and opportunity to kill and they don’t do it. Why use his personal weapon?”
“Crimes of passion aren’t well thought out.”
“Did you look at the crime scene photos?”
“No. Why would I have? I’m not obsessed with this case.” Steve motioned for the waitress to bring two more pints. Mitch stole a glance at his watch. 8:10. He needed to wrap this up within thirty minutes and get Steve out of here before Claire walked in and saw them talking like they were best friends. Mitch didn’t want to confirm Steve’s suspicions that his feelings for Claire went beyond his need to prove O’Brien innocent.
“The bodies were in bed. Taverton on top of Mrs. O’Brien. The killer walked in and shot them without hesitation. Without Taverton even having a chance to move or defend himself. That, to me, says cold-blooded premeditation.”
“And a betrayed husband could have planned it just like that. What if he knew about the affair for a while? Fumed over it? Then his daughter calls and she’s upset because she walked in and heard her mom in bed with a stranger. It set him off. He might have been thinking about it, maybe planning it, and now he just goes and does it.”
“No rage? No yelling and fighting?”
Steve shrugged, sipped the new pint the waitress brought. Mitch tossed a twenty and a five on the tray and thanked her.
“What I’m saying,” Mitch continued, “is that the police never investigated Chase Taverton’s life, not in any depth. He was a prosecutor. He must have racked up a long list of enemies, and to not even walk down that road-if only to check it off the damn list-seems not only irresponsible, but flat-out wrong. It’s like they saw what they wanted to see-crime of passion-arrested the husband, and tossed away the key.”
“Usually the most obvious suspect is the killer,” Steve said.
“And sometimes the obvious suspect is innocent.”
“He was convicted by a jury.”