Читать книгу The Detective And The D.A. - Leann Harris - Страница 10

Ash glanced around Honey’s Hideout. The seedy bar, with the uneven floor, chipped tables and grimy walls probably had failed the last four or five health inspections. Of course, the clientele at the bar wasn’t interested in food or eating. The liquor this joint served would probably kill any germs.

Sunlight had a hard time penetrating the cloudy windows, but Ash spotted Steve Carlson at the end of the bar, nursing a beer. The man’s expression didn’t look like one of victory or enjoyment, but rather like a dog that had been kicked one too many times.

Ash had lucked out that Carlson was here at his old hangout. After five years in prison, Steve Carlson’s first trip out of his apartment, he had come to this dive—not the grocery store or a job placement office, but this dump. Some of HPD’s best business came from here.

Ash slid onto the stool next the man.

“I’m been looking for you, Carlson,” Ash began. He pulled out his badge and flashed it at Carlson.

The other man’s pinched features hardened. “What do you want?” he demanded. “I’ve been out of prison less than a week and done nothing wrong.” Carlson was a slight man, in his early thirties, five foot ten, thick glasses and thinning hair. He didn’t seem strong enough to have butchered Cathy Reed with a saber.

“You want to discuss this in front of an audience—” Ash glanced at the bartender “—or you want to talk in private?” Ash asked, his voice pitched low.

Carlson’s eyes went to the bartender, who eyed them, and around the nearly empty bar. “Private.”

Ash motioned to a table in the corner of the room. Once they were seated, Carlson demanded, “What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you about Catherine Reed’s murder.”

“Go away.”

Ash shrugged. “Hey, I thought you might want to help clear your name.”

Carlson’s harsh laugh bounced around the room. “Sure, that’s what cops do, try to prove the suspect innocent.” He took a swallow of his beer. “If you think I’m going to say anything to you after what you cops did to me, then you’re crazier than my last cell mate.”

Ash leaned forward. “Think about it, Carlson. There’s going to be another trial because of who the victim was. Both Catherine Reed’s husband and parents are powers in this city, in this state. They’re not going to let this go. They’ve already been yammering at the D.A. about the situation.” With each word, Ash watched the other man’s face close down.

“So?”

“So you want a repeat of the first trial?”

Carlson’s eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you talk to my lawyer?”

Ash leaned back in his chair. “Hey, I got no problem with that. I was just wondering why a pro like you would stoop to murder? I didn’t think guys with your talent would hack a women to death.”

“Too bad that thought didn’t occur to that woman D.A. at my first trial.”

“Well, your hands were torn up.”

“Changing a flat will do that.”

Ash bit back his irritation. “So you saying you didn’t do it?”

Carlson glared. “That’s what I’m saying.”

Ash sat back, considering him. “Makes sense to me.”

“Yeah, tell it to the D.A.” Carlson swallowed the rest of his beer.

“All right.”

Carlson went still, his eyes narrowed. “What’s the catch?”

The man responded to the lure Ash had put out. “Well, Catherine Reed is still dead and someone needs to be tried. I thought that maybe you’d be interested in helping me catch the real killer.”

Carlson laughed. “Who hit you in the head?”

Ash shrugged. “You’re right, Carlson. It is farfetched for me to believe that you want someone else to pay for that murder. Besides, I don’t believe you were ever charged on the burglary. I think the D.A. needs to do that immediately. We’re getting grief about you walking around. Of course if you help, those charges can go away. But if you don’t want to help…” Ash stood.

Carlson’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait.”

Pausing, Ash looked at Carlson.

“What do you want to say to me?” Carlson asked, fingering his glass.

Ash sat and leaned forward. “After reviewing the case, I don’t think you killed Catherine Reed.”

He nodded. “You’re damn straight.”

“My problem is, if you didn’t do it, I need to find out who did.”

“So find him.”

“That’s why I’m here. I want you to recount that night to me. Maybe you’ve got the key and don’t know it.”

Carlson stared at his empty glass. “I should have my lawyer here.”

“Fine.” Ash pushed away from the table. “We’re going to refile on this case soon and if I don’t have someone else, you’re it.”

Carlson knuckled his glass. “What the hell. I broke in the house to rob them. I saw her necklace the week before when I worked a society party, parking cars. I discovered who they were and where they lived. I worked the charity fund-raiser they were at that night. After I parked their car, I cut out and went to their house. She didn’t have the necklace in her jewelry box, so I looked for a safe. Found it in the library. I’m good with safes and it was a piece of cake to break into it. I took a couple of necklaces and a ring.”

A rush of excitement flooded Ash. “So no one was there when you broke into the house?”

“No. I heard them drive up. The party wasn’t supposed to be over until ten. It was nine when the car pulled into the driveway. I heard yelling and cut out. I steal, but don’t murder.”

Carlson’s reasoning sounded firm. Ash knew that thieves rarely changed their modus operandi. When they chose a victim, many professional thieves didn’t carry any sort of weapon with them.

Carlson shook his head. “But as I was leaving, I knocked over a plant in the library. I didn’t have time to set it upright. Someone else did that lady. It wasn’t me.”

“What about the murder weapon? Did you see it?”

Carlson’s eyes dropped to the table. “I’ve got a thing for weapons like that. I considered taking it. Took it down from the wall, but I noticed the engraving on the blade. I couldn’t fence anything like that, so I left it. But in my hurry, I didn’t hang it back on the wall.”

There was something about Carlson’s story that rang true. “Okay, I believe you.”

The look of surprise on Carlson’s face made Ash want to laugh.

“You do?”

“Houston PD isn’t after you, Carlson. We want who killed Mrs. Reed.”

He didn’t look convinced.

“I’ll want to keep in contact with you in case any other questions come up.” Ash handed Carlson his business card. “When you get a job, let me know where I can get in contact with you.”

Carlson nodded.

Ash stood and walked out of the bar. Carlson sounded innocent to him. But he had discovered that the Reeds were fighting when they returned home.

It was a new lead.

Kelly packed up the papers she needed to take home with her to review. This day had been a little better than the day the Texas Supreme Court overturned the Carlson conviction but not by much. She had a headache, her feet hurt from standing in court most of the day, and if she had to listen to one more complaint—one more society matron telling her what an injustice had been perpetrated on the state—she might run screaming from the room.

She’d had to get out of her office before anyone else could protest or ask her to do something or tell her what else had gone wrong.

Leaning down to grab her purse, she heard the door to her office open. “Rats,” she mumbled.

When Kelly stood up, Ash filled the doorway. His expression didn’t bode well for what he had to say. Her plans for escape vanished like smoke.

“I’m warning you,” Kelly quickly told him, holding up her right forefinger, “if you’re going to give me bad news, don’t.”

“Have a bad day?” He looked too good for her peace of mind. He had on jeans, a white shirt and an old sport coat that she’d bought him. Her heart jerked in reaction.

“You really don’t want to hear about it, Ash.” She shrugged her purse over her shoulder, grabbed her briefcase and started out of her office.

He followed her. “Then you’re certainly not going to want to hear about what I’ve come up with in the Carlson case.”

She stopped beside her secretary’s desk in the outer office, her head bowed. She didn’t want to hear the doom he was sure to deliver, but she couldn’t avoid it. That had always been Ash’s complaint—that she couldn’t ignore problems.

“I don’t want to know about it right now,” she muttered, surprising herself and no doubt her ex. She marched out of the office into the hall.

“When was the last time you ate?” he asked, following her.

His question surprised and annoyed her. She pushed the elevator button and glared at him. “I don’t know. Breakfast, maybe. Why?”

The doors to the elevator opened and they moved inside.

“Still not taking care of yourself?”

She glared at him.

“What you need, Ms. A.D.A., is a meal. You still like stuffed crabs?” His expression was smug, as if he knew a secret that no one else did. And he did. She was tempted not to answer, but her stomach growled. “Yes.”

“Then let’s go get some of Sal’s stuffed crabs and fettuccine Alfredo.”

If he had asked her to strip naked here in the elevator, she couldn’t have been more surprised. He knew the weakness that she had for Sal’s crabs. When they’d been married, dirt-poor, her a law student, him a beat cop, they would allow themselves a meal at Sal’s once a month. It had been the highlight of the month. Eating at Sal’s, a bottle of cheap wine and a walk in the park afterward. It had been heaven, and some of the best times of her life. They were certainly more enjoyable than ninety-nine percent of the official functions she had to attend as a D.A.

It was ridiculous that going to Sal’s would hit such an emotional note for her. She was hungry and the stuffed crabs sounded heavenly. If Kelly told him she didn’t want the memories Sal’s invoked, he might misinterpret it. She was tired, that was all. “All right. You’ve bribed me.”

He grinned, an expression of cocky arrogance. She didn’t want to add to that arrogance, but stuffed crabs—it would be a brief reprieve from the lousy day, she told herself. “You going to buy?”

“Will that get you to go?”

“Yup.”

“Then I’m buying.”

“After you buy me dinner, then you can tell me what ugly facts you’ve uncovered.”

“I will, but only after you’ve eaten.”

Sal’s was a little place, the last business in an old turn-of-the-century building with atmosphere that you could scrape off the walls. Ash was sure that, if he pulled the health records on this place, he wouldn’t be happy. But on this point, ignorance was bliss.

Sal smiled when he saw them walk into the restaurant. “Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Ashcroft. It’s been too long since you’ve come to my fine establishment. Come, the table you like is empty. I will seat you.”

Ash winced inwardly. Hadn’t he been here since the divorce? He glanced at Kelly to see her reaction to Sal’s mistake. Her face drained of color. She followed the little man without a word of protest.

After they were seated, Sal asked, “Stuffed crabs and fettuccine Alfredo and a sauvignon blanc?”

Ash looked at Kelly. When she nodded, Ash agreed. “I’m surprised you remember what we like to order, Sal, with all the customers you’ve had over the years.”

Sal grinned and leaned down. “I’ll tell you a story, Mr. Ashcroft. When you and the missus used to come into my place, I’d tell my wife, look at those two lovers. There’s a passion there that is reserved for the few. Then I would grin at my Catherine and give her a good kiss and a pat. She enjoyed when you came into the restaurant.”

Ash couldn’t have been more surprised. Glancing at Kelly, he saw the wounded expression in her eyes. Her jaw clenched. Sal’s words had inflicted a serious wound.

“I’ll get the wine and turn in your order.” Sal hurried away.

Ash glanced at Kelly. “I’m sorry—”

She shook her head. “It’s okay.” But from her body posture, her shoulders hunched as if to protect herself, it wasn’t.

Taking a deep breath, she hid her emotions behind that cool lawyer mask of hers. It was one of the things that had always grated on his nerves.

Finally she shook her head and leaned back in her chair. “Well, it’s just too perfect an ending for today.”

Before Ash could respond, Sal returned with the wine and poured them each a glass.

He took a sip of wine. “I understand. It’s been one of those days for me, too, when you want to kick the hell out of your tires to vent some of the frustration.” He shook his head, noticing that he had her attention. “I was tempted, but decided I didn’t want broken toes in addition to all the other problems we’ve got. Besides, dealing with the city when you smash up your car is worse than dealing with the snotty rich kids in the Memorial area.”

Kelly’s shoulders relaxed. “I’m sure the city is grateful you didn’t take your frustration out on another municipal vehicle.”

His brow arched.

She shrugged. “A friend of mine in the department called today and commented on your trouble.” Carrie Nelson, a forensic psychiatrist with the PD, had also given Kelly sympathy about having to work with her ex, even if he was a good detective. “Tell me what you’ve discovered,” Kelly quickly asked.

He was more than ready to move on to another subject. He told her about the conversation he had had with Steve Carlson. “I’ve got to tell you, Kelly, I believe the man,” he told her as the waiter arrived with their dinner.

“Oh, come on, Ash.” Doubt and disbelief rang in her words. “I’ve seen you nail a dozen different guys who were all claiming to be innocent and you brought me the evidence to back up your hunch. What’s the problem now?”

He put down his fork. “The problem is the blood evidence. Why wasn’t there any found in Carlson’s apartment, considering how bloody the crime scene was?”

“That bothered me, too, when I looked over the file.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Why didn’t it bother you the first time, Kelly?”

“It did, but Lee assured me that Carlson could’ve gotten rid of the shirt. He had the jewelry.”

“Yeah, he ripped them off, admitted it, but he claimed he left when he heard the a car coming up the driveway.”

From her expression, she wasn’t convinced.

“Carlson admitted he was sloppy in his escape, leaving evidence of the burglary.”

“So.”

“So, if we believe Carlson, then we’ve missed the murderer completely. He’s been walking around for the past five years. Has he killed again?”

Her expression hardened. “Do you have another suspect in mind?”

Grinding his teeth, he pulled a hard rein on his anger. Kelly wasn’t the enemy. “I wish I did. I’ll interview all the neighbors to see if I can come up with anything new, and comb through the evidence we have. You want to call your people tomorrow and see if they can pull the evidence you’ve got stored?”

“I’ll do it.” She cocked her head. “As a matter of fact, we can go over it together.”

“Don’t trust me, huh?”

“No, that’s not it. Maybe your point of view will help me see things in a different light.”

What he needed was some time and distance away from this woman. But since that wasn’t going to happen, maybe he could make this as fast as possible. “All right. Call me when we can go over the evidence.”

“I will.”

Of that, he didn’t doubt.

Kelly pulled her car into the parking lot of the old warehouse where the evidence from tried court cases was stored. With the darkening shadows and unsavory atmosphere in this part of downtown, Kelly felt her body tense. She wished the D.A.’s office would store their evidence in a police facility. At least cops were there.

When she opened the main door to the warehouse, she saw Ash standing on the far side of the little room, leaning against the counter that separated the waiting area from the smaller office. He laughed at something the male attendant said.

“You’re wrong, Ray,” Ash answered.

Ash was a handsome man, Kelly admitted, with a body that would fuel any female fantasy. It certainly had fueled hers once upon a time.

Enough, she mentally scolded. She didn’t need to remember that about him. What she needed to remember was what a pain in the rear he could be. But that mulish quality of his was what she needed right now, a man not afraid of causing ripples and stepping on toes. And toes were going to be stepped on.

“I wasn’t,” Ray answered. “And Jeffies got his chops busted when his boss came back.”

Ash glanced at her and the grin on his face evaporated. “You’re a little late, Kelly.”

“It’s rush hour, Ash.”

His brow arched, silently reminding her that she was the one who’d set the time they were to meet.

She stepped to the counter. “I need the evidence on the Carlson case.”

Ray nodded and entered the name into his computer terminal. After several moments, he asked, “You want the door from the bedroom where they found Cathy Reed in addition to all the other evidence?” he asked.

She remembered the door. Blood had splattered on it when Catherine Reed had been murdered. Kelly had kept that door in her office for close to six months, studied it, knew the evidence on it. She didn’t want it back again.

“No, since I’ve got pictures of it in the file. If we need it, I’ll send someone over to get it.”

“Okay. You got the request form I need to keep?” Ray asked.

Kelly pulled the paper from her shoulder bag. Ray took it and, after carefully looking over it, he nodded and walked through the door into the warehouse.

“Where do you want to go over this evidence? Your office?” Ash asked.

“Yes. I have an opening argument to write, so it would be easier if we did it there.”

Ash studied her and she knew he noticed the circles under her eyes. For a moment, his concern showed in his eyes and it caused the oddest sensation in her stomach. The outside door opened, dispelling the moment, and Ralph Lee walked into the building. He carried a box of evidence.

“Ah, if this isn’t a coincidence,” Ralph murmured. He set down his box on the counter. “The A.D.A. and her detective.”

Kelly didn’t want to trade insults with Detective Lee. She kept her mouth shut and smiled at him.

“You here to collect the evidence on the Carlson case?” Ralph asked.

“We are,” Ash quickly answered.

“You going to right the wrong the state supreme court committed?”

Ralph Lee’s thinking had never made it past the seventies, when men ruled every part of the justice system. He was obnoxious but had good instincts on a case.

“We’re reviewing what we have and searching for new information,” Kelly replied.

Ralph’s eyes narrowed.

“And what are you doing here, Detective?” Kelly asked.

“Returning the evidence on the case I went to Amarillo to testify. The assistant D.A. had an emergency and asked if I’d return the evidence.”

Kelly felt Ash move behind her. Oddly enough, it was a comfort to have him standing behind her.

The door to the inside part of the warehouse opened and Ray appeared with a pushcart with two boxes on it. “Here you go, Ms. A.D.A. Evidence in the Carlson case.” Ray noticed the other detective. “How are you, Ralph? You got stuff for me?”

“I do, Ray.”

Ray held out a clipboard to Kelly. “You have to sign for the evidence.”

She quickly signed the sheet. Ash took one box and Kelly the other. Ralph opened the outside door for Kelly. There was an expression in his eyes that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. As she walked by Ralph, he whispered, “That bastard is guilty.”

Kelly stopped. “Well, that may be, Detective, but because we’ve got to do this again, I want my case airtight. There were some holes when I reviewed it, so Detective Ashcroft and I want to look at the evidence again.”

Lee’s eyes hardened. “I’ve got the best damn closure rate in the department.”

“This isn’t about your closure rate, Detective. This is about convicting a murderer.” She walked by him, her jaw tight. “The man is a self-centered, puffed-up, three-eyed monster,” she grumbled, walking to her car.

A laugh jerked her out of her fuming. She turned to Ash.

“Ralph has that effect on women. They want to kill him. That’s why his partner usually interviews them at crime scenes and leaves Ralph to interview the men.”

She shook her head. “Why does HPD keep him?”

“Because, Kelly, he’s got good instincts and a good solve rate.”

“So he said.”

“It’s true.”

“Then why does this case have holes in it?”

His frown only confirmed her suspicion. “That’s a good question.”

“If my case had holes, do his other cases have problems?”

She didn’t like the look in his eyes.