After three days of trial and a day and a half of jury deliberations, the jury returned a guilty verdict Friday after lunch.
John Caldwell was not in the courtroom. He didn’t return Tuesday afternoon, or any day since. He checked into a hotel room and hadn’t returned home.
Max met with him each night because she was worried about him—and what he might do. But after the guilty verdict came down, he said he would be okay.
“It’s over,” he said.
“I can stay for the weekend. We can talk. Or just—do nothing.”
He actually gave her a small smile. He hadn’t slept, he’d barely eaten except when Max pushed food on him, and his hair looked gray. Did people really get stress gray?
“I will be okay, Max. My sister is coming tomorrow. She’s going to help me pack up the house and get it on the market. I can’t live there anymore.”
“How about dinner tonight?”
He shook his head. “I can’t—I need to make plans. I’m going to move. Not just out of the house, but out of Scottsdale. A friend of mine has been trying to get me to work for them. Their headquarters are in Seattle. I need a change. A real change.”
“Well, if you want to talk, or have dinner, or breakfast, call me. I’m leaving in the morning.”
John walked her to the door. “Did you know? From the beginning, did you know that Blair was guilty?”
What could she say? “Suspecting is different than knowing. I was suspicious, but I wanted her to be innocent.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew it would break your heart, and I didn’t want you hurt like this.”
“Nothing could hurt me more than losing Peter. Even knowing that Blair killed him—killed him for no reason I can understand other than a deep selfishness that I ignored for years—doesn’t hurt as much as the fact that he’s gone.”
“Nothing good can come from this, and I won’t even tell you that there is a silver lining. But, if you hadn’t called me, four other boys wouldn’t have seen justice. Another little boy would have died. This trial ended with two killers in prison. It won’t give you peace, but it might give you some satisfaction.”
“However much it hurts, it’s better to know the truth. I’ll never understand why. Why. Your friend, Dr. Kincaid, came by last night. I think he wanted to give me answers, but there are no answers.”
She hadn’t known that Dillon went to see John, but that was so like him. She had grown to like and respect the man over the last two weeks. He showed a deep compassion but tempered it with logic and reason. He didn’t raise his voice. Nothing seemed to fluster him. He’d agreed to come to New York for an interview in two weeks, and she would be filming her next Maximum Exposure show about Danielle Sharpe and Blair Caldwell—mothers who kill. That was Ben’s tag. Max planned to take the show far deeper than a simple tagline could suggest. Dillon’s involvement would help tremendously. She also had agreements with Blair’s attorney (to talk generally, not specifically about her case because he planned to appeal—though she didn’t mention that to John), DA Harrison Trotter, Stanton, Detective Katella, and Danielle’s ex-husband. There were others she might be able to nab as well.
Except the one she really wanted. Lucy Kincaid. Max was going to have to be satisfied with her brother.
“The truth is an answer,” she said.
“It’s not enough, but it has to be.”
She gave John a hug good-bye, and went down to the parking garage to get her rental car. She considered staying the weekend to pamper herself at the Biltmore resort. But she’d already been gone for over two weeks, and it was time to go home.
She had wanted to stay—not only for John, but because Nick was expecting her this weekend. Why had she told him that she would visit when the trial was over? She didn’t want to see him. She knew their relationship was over. It was over the minute he told her he would never discuss his ex-wife and custody arrangement with her. It wasn’t that she had to know, it was that his problems with Nancy were integral to his life, and she realized that she wanted to share all or nothing with the man she loved.
And she couldn’t love anyone who closed half his life to her. Arguably, the most important half of his life, his child.
She was sad on the one hand because with Nick she saw something that could have been. There was something about him—and who she was when she was with Nick—that made her want to make it work. But at the same time, a weight lifted. She hadn’t realized the emotional stress she’d put on herself trying to justify Nick’s silence about Nancy. She’d made excuses to herself and for him, and she refused to do it anymore. She valued honesty—she couldn’t settle for less in her own relationships.
Maybe part of it was because of Lucy and Sean. She’d not only observed them, but listened to Lucy when she spoke of her husband. Their relationship was built on trust and honesty. No secrets. Maybe that was a near impossible goal, but it was still a goal. And one that Max was willing to pursue.
Because for the first time in her life, Max was thinking about the future. Before, her relationships had always been superficial. Passionate and intelligent relationships with men who could stand up to her, men who weren’t intimidated by her independence or confidence. But they were still superficial because to Max, the job always came first. To Max, her job was her vocation and there was no room for anything else.
Nick taught her one thing: that she wanted more. That while she wouldn’t give up her career, she definitely had room for another person. Someone who was more than an occasional lover. And Lucy taught her that Max didn’t have to settle for a relationship that was one-sided or based solely in sexual gratification. Max would rather be alone for the rest of her life than love a man who didn’t trust her with both the good and the bad in his life.
The freedom in that revelation gave Max a rare peace that she hadn’t expected.
* * *
She left her rental with the valet at the Biltmore, then walked through the lobby and out the back doors to her expansive suite. She was surprised when she found David sitting in her living room reading the book she had only half finished.
“Don’t tell me how it ends, I’ll read it on the plane tomorrow,” she said, kicking off her heels and sitting across from him. “I thought you left this afternoon.”
“I changed it to tomorrow. We’ll head back together.” He put the book down. “I thought you were seeing Nick this weekend.”
“I’d planned on it, but…” David and Nick were friends, which made this harder than she thought. “I’m done.”
“It’s not as simple as that.”
“It is. But I’m okay. You can take the weekend, visit Emma, do whatever you need to do. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“What changed?”
“Nothing. I thought I could tolerate being shut out of his life, and I can’t. I guess … I have too much respect for myself. It got to the point where I cared too much. And I was giving up too much just to spend time with him.”
“Nick cares. This is a hard time for him.”
“I know. But I’m supposed to let him shut me out on this? What else? Let’s say Nick and I stick it out. I have to shut my ears and close my eyes every time Nancy is mentioned? Every time she interferes with his life? Would I even be allowed to have a relationship with Logan? I don’t want to live like that. It’s not like he’s my employee.”
She didn’t realize what she’d said until she’d said it.
“Is that what I am, Max? An employee?”
Last September, David had hurt her so deeply, but she hadn’t realized it still bothered her. Bothered her? She was still hurt.
“You were my friend, David,” she said. “And I thought—I don’t know. That we were family, in a way. But you made it clear I’m not. And I get it—Brittney gave you an ultimatum. She didn’t want me anywhere around Emma. You couldn’t risk losing your daughter to that vindictive bitch. I understand, David—and I tried to keep it all in perspective. You work for me. I’m not part of your life. I don’t have a right to expect to be part of your family dinners or spend time with you and Emma outside of our job. We’re not lovers, we’re not in that kind of relationship, and now our friendship is … I don’t know.”
“I am really sorry I hurt you, Max,” David said. “I didn’t realize when I shut you out of Emma’s birthday dinner that you took it personally. I had to make that promise to Brittney, that you wouldn’t be there, that you wouldn’t be in Emma’s life. I have no rights with Emma. None except what Brittney gives me.”
“I’m okay.”
“Yet you’re dumping Nick.”
“Because I’m not going to be cut out. Not in something so important to Nick.”
David nodded. “Okay.”
“Dinner?”
“Sure.” He got up. “Max, I’m sorry about the situation with Emma. But we are friends, we will always be friends. I knew something was wrong, you talked to me different, but I didn’t make the connection. Forgive me.”
“All is forgiven,” she said. And she meant it. Another weight lifted off her heart. “I mean it. I’m going to call Nick, tell him I’m not coming tomorrow. Meet you in the restaurant? An hour?”
“See you there.”
* * *
Max’s cell phone rang Friday night after she returned from dinner. It had been really good to connect with David again.
“Max Revere,” she answered.
“Hi, it’s Lucy Kincaid.”
Max sat down at her desk and smiled. “I’m glad you called.”
“It was a zoo in Glendale after we arrested Danielle Sharpe, and then you left the next morning. I felt bad I didn’t get a chance to say good-bye.”
Max didn’t tell Lucy that she’d negotiated a copy of the transcript from Lucy’s hostage negotiation with Danielle. She wasn’t going to use it—she’d promised Andrew she wouldn’t—but it gave her a new insight into how she investigated cold cases.
And great insight into Lucy Kincaid. There was more to her story, Max was certain, but for the first time she was okay with letting it go.
“Sean and I had breakfast before I left, while you were debriefing and doing all the boring paperwork.”
Lucy laughed. “Definitely not the fun part of my job.”
“What now?”
“Back to work—well, I’m not on call, so I have a couple days. Dillon’s here—he flew in this afternoon after the verdict and is going to stay for the weekend.”
“Tell him I said thank you. Again. He sealed the conviction.”
“He said it was three things—his testimony, the computer expert who confirmed that Blair Caldwell had read articles about Justin’s murder on her work computer, and the fact that her husband didn’t return to court after Dillon’s testimony. The jury noticed.”
“John knew from the beginning, but he was in denial. He wanted me to prove that she didn’t do it, to give him peace.”
“I figured that. Have you spoken to him?”
“This afternoon. He’s picking up the pieces. His sister is coming to town, they’ll sell the house, he’s been offered a job in the Pacific Northwest. He isn’t going to just get over his son’s murder.”
“No, he won’t. He doesn’t want to hear that it’ll get easier, but there will be a time when he’ll wake up and his first thought won’t be Peter. It’ll take time. Years, perhaps. The sorrow will always be there. But he’ll learn to find joy in his life. There will be balance, and that’s really all any of us can hope for.”
“Is everything okay with you? Your work?”
Yes, she was prying. But she was curious, and a bit concerned. Lucy was instrumental in solving her nephew’s murder and preventing the death of another young boy; she didn’t deserve to be raked over the coals by a boss who didn’t know what she’d accomplished.
“I’m fine.”
Talk about a vague answer! But Max didn’t press.
“I wanted to ask you something,” Lucy continued.
“As you told me, I’m an open book.”
“Sean is a private investigator and rather exemplary at his job. You told him about how your mother disappeared. You have a lot of information on your Web site as well.”
“I’ve never kept it a secret. I recognize that one of the reasons I’ve chosen this job—to solve crimes for other people—is because I can’t solve the mysteries in my own life. I’ve never lied to myself about it.”
“Sean has a lead. But we didn’t want to send you the information he uncovered without asking if you really want it.”
Max’s heart skipped a beat. “A lead? What kind of lead?”
“You told Sean your mother never wrote to you after your sixteenth birthday, and shortly after that she stopped withdrawing money from her trust account. She was legally declared dead seven years and three months after your sixteenth birthday—seven years after the last withdrawal she made from her trust—so Sean dug around and found out where she was living after April first.”
“She withdrew the money in Florida, but I lived with her for ten years. She would withdraw the money then immediately leave. Why, I don’t know. I thought at the time so that my grandparents couldn’t track her. But I’ve wondered if she was running from someone else. Or just running from herself.”
“She bought a car in Florida the day she withdrew the money. She bought it under a false identity. The car was found abandoned in Virginia two weeks later.”
Max’s stomach twisted in knots. She had looked into her mother’s disappearance, but she’d never truly devoted a lot of time or energy. Maybe part of her didn’t want to know the truth. Could that be? Could it be that Max herself didn’t want answers to the one question that had driven her for so long?
“Max?”
“I’m here.”
“Sean didn’t get this information strictly legally. I know what you’re thinking.”
“You don’t.”
Lucy laughed, though there was no humor. “Max, do you really think you intentionally thwarted yourself?”
Maybe Lucy Kincaid really could read minds. “Yes.”
“Maybe you could have found it. Maybe not. This was sixteen years ago. And Sean is—well, let’s just say he would say he’s the best in the business.”
“It sounds like he is.”
“Do you want the information he found?”
Did she? Did she want to know the truth about her mother? Why she left her when she was ten, why she never returned, never called, and sent her a birthday card every year until she disappeared off the face of the earth?
Would the answers give her closure? A sense of peace? Justice?
Except … if she was murdered, that meant there was a killer out there. And even after sixteen years, that killer needed to be found. And prosecuted. Justice had to be served. Because no matter how selfish and irresponsible Martha Revere was, she didn’t deserve death.
“Yes, Lucy. I’d like the information. And thank you. Thank you both.”