Josh exited the interview room after spending forty-five minutes giving his statement to a fellow detective and headed toward his boss’s office. Part of him wondered if he was jumping the gun by going to the captain with Caitlyn’s suspicions. In reality, he probably should wait until he had something more concrete, but the break-in at his house had convinced him Caitlyn was right. How much more concrete could he get? Someone was behind this, and they needed to find out who. And getting the captain on board was going to be the quickest way to get to the bottom of it all.
But there were questions that wouldn’t stop nagging at him. If Caitlyn’s car accident last night was connected to the break-in at his home this morning, who knew he’d met with Caitlyn? The only person he’d told was Quinton, and he trusted his partner with his life. The logical explanation was that someone was following Caitlyn.
But who?
He rubbed his day-old stubble and winced at the bruise just under his eye as he stopped in front of Captain Matt Thomas’s office. The man had joined law enforcement after spending a decade in the Army, including time as a drill sergeant. He was tough, but fair, and if anyone could advise Josh what to do, he could.
Josh knocked on the open door. “James told me you wanted to see me.”
“I heard about your fight.” The captain nodded for him to come in and take a seat across from him. “Your face looks worse for wear, though I heard you won.”
Josh wasn’t in the mood for small talk. “What do you have on the suspects?”
“They’re being questioned right now, but so far it looks like they’re nothing more than a couple of bored kids making stupid decisions.”
Josh dropped the file Caitlyn had given him onto the desk and sat in the chair across from his boss. “Is that what they’re telling you?”
“Do you have another theory?”
“They were after my files on my wife’s murder, which makes me believe they were hired to break in. And if that’s true, it means there’s a connection with her death.”
The captain tapped his pen on the desk and frowned. “Detective Masters has shared with me your theory, but according to the arresting officers, they’re a part of a gang. Probably looking for something to sell for a quick fix. You just happened to return home, and from the looks of their injuries, they clearly messed with the wrong person.”
“So . . . wrong place at the wrong time.”
How convenient. How familiar. But he wasn’t buying it. “They might not know anything,” Josh continued. “But someone hired them. How do you explain the fact that they had my files?”
“They told you they were hired?”
“Actually, yes. The younger one.”
“Then either he changed his story or thought that blaming someone else was going to be his way out. I’ll have the detectives see if they can get anything else out of them, but a connection to your wife’s murder seems like a stretch to me. This is Houston—you of all people know it’s possible for crime to strike the same person more than once.”
Josh reined in his initial response. Jumping to conclusions wasn’t the answer, but neither was sitting back and ignoring the obvious.
“I understand what you’re saying,” he said, “but here’s another thing. What if one of the men convicted in my wife’s murder actually had an alibi and someone doesn’t want this information coming out?” Josh leaned forward and tapped the folder he’d put on the desk before continuing. “Rudolph Beckmann always claimed that he wasn’t at my house that night. He claimed he was out drinking with a friend, but that so-called friend adamantly denied they’d been together.”
“Detectives followed up on that, but it was a dead end. But listen. If I was facing as much prison time as those two are, I’d be desperate for an alibi as well.” The captain flipped open the folder. “You said you got this information from one of your wife’s coworkers.”
“Yes. And as much as I want to believe Olivia’s killers are behind bars, I have my own questions. I can’t help but wonder if some of those questions deserve answers.”
“I’m not sure what to say, Detective. And to be honest, when you called, I’d hoped you were planning on taking some long-deserved time off. Instead I discover you trying to dig up details on a case that’s been closed for months. None of this seems very credible from my standpoint. And I’m pretty sure the DA isn’t going to want to reopen a case simply because you have questions.”
Josh eyed his boss sitting across from him. His tone—and that of every officer in the precinct—had always been sympathetic. Crime had affected one of their own, which meant it had affected all of them. He’d received tremendous support he’d appreciated in a time of need.
But for the first time there was something different in his captain’s expression. Skepticism? Doubt? He wasn’t sure.
“And there’s another issue at play here,” the captain said.
“What’s that?”
The older man leaned forward. “After months of your community being hit with a string of break-ins and then on top of that a brutal murder, how’s it going to look if the public suddenly finds out we’re not sure if we caught the right men? That whoever was behind it is actually still out there, still on the run?”
Josh’s fists tensed in his lap. “Wait a minute. You’re telling me that this has somehow become about public relations? Because I don’t care how it looks. I want to make sure that the right men are behind bars. That my wife’s killers are behind bars.”
The captain sat back in his chair and shook his head. “This has everything to do with being careful not to jump to conclusions with no real evidence to back them up. Despite this information you believe you have, I believe the right people are sitting in jail.”
Josh stared at a photo of the captain’s family and weighed his response. He’d never had any issues with his boss, but something in his gut told him there was more at play here and he needed to be careful.
“Listen, you know that I have no desire to open up my wife’s case again, but neither can I rest easy knowing that the wrong men have been convicted. Especially when I was one of the key witnesses in the case. If I was wrong—”
The captain looked at the file on his desk and said, “What do you really know about Caitlyn Lindsey?”
“What do you mean?”
“When I heard from your interview that a former coworker of your wife started playing detective because she believes there’s some conspiracy going on, I took the liberty of digging into her background. For starters, did you know that she has a juvenile record?”
Josh kept his expression neutral. More than likely a juvenile record had nothing to do with what was happening right now. But still, he didn’t like what he was hearing. Had he been so emotionally caught up in Caitlyn’s story that he’d lost his objectivity?
“What does that have to do with this?” he asked. “And since when do we make someone’s testimony automatically suspect because of a juvenile record? We both know that there are dozens of innocent explanations that could be behind that.”
“You’re right, but that’s not all. It seems that Caitlyn Lindsey has a habit of stirring up trouble. Six years ago, she came forward with allegations against the company she was working for that connected the lab to clinical fraud. There are many people who believe those allegations were false, yet the company ended up paying for the wrongs she accused them of. Bottom line, I sense a pattern here.”
“I don’t remember seeing anything about that in the case files.”
“It wasn’t in the file.”
Josh caught the defensiveness in the captain’s voice and frowned, but the seed of doubt had been planted. What did he really know about Caitlyn? Was there an ulterior motive? If she had one, what would it be?
His jaw tightened. None of this made sense.
“Here’s the thing,” the captain said. “You, of all people, should want this behind you. Not reopened. Do you know what a circus it’s going to be if this gets out? Unless something substantial comes up, my advice to you is to let it go. It’s the only way.”
His boss might have just given him an explanation all wrapped up in a neat and tidy box, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to totally throw away his theory.
“So because the guys we arrested were a couple of goons with records, we just turn a blind eye? What if the real killers are still out there?”
“I’m not saying we turn a blind eye. What I said was we trust the system that convicted your wife’s murderers. I am 100 percent convinced that the right men were convicted. Reopening this case is a mistake, and I think you know that. Listen, the weather’s supposed to warm up this week. When’s the last time you took a day off? Got out of town, slept in till noon, did a little winter bass fishing, or played golf, or headed to Galveston?”
Josh frowned at the sudden redirection of the conversation. “It’s been a while.”
So long he couldn’t remember, but a vacation was the last thing on his mind right now.
“This is what’s going to happen,” the captain continued. “You’re going to take the next two weeks off. I don’t want to see you in this office. I don’t want to hear about your digging into any of your cases, especially your wife’s. And when you return, come back with your head on straight. Do you understand?”
Josh hesitated at the veiled threat. “I understand.” He stood up, wishing he had a comeback or a more compelling argument or more solid evidence, but he didn’t.
“And Josh?”
He stopped midstride to the door.
“Despite everything I’ve just said, I do know this isn’t easy for you. If I were to be completely honest with you, I’d have to say I probably would have listened to Caitlyn too. My wife died of cancer seven years ago, and at the time I asked myself all kinds of what-ifs. What if I’d done something different. Said something different. And whenever something reminds me of her today, those same questions aren’t far from the surface.”
Josh nodded, wishing the captain’s words weren’t so spot-on.
“All I have to say is, don’t go there. The guilt will end up killing you,” the older man continued. “There comes a time when you’ve got to let it go. Trust that you did everything you could, and that’s enough. The men who are in prison for your wife’s murder are there because they committed a horrendous crime. Anything you do now is only going to make things worse on yourself. Go home. Drive to Galveston or San Antonio. I don’t care what you do, but clear your head before you come back.”
Josh grabbed the file off the captain’s desk and walked out of the office. He’d hoped the captain would have decided to reopen his wife’s case, not send him off on some holiday retreat. But whether he liked it or not, there had been some truth in what the captain had said.
He started down the hallway. What if the man was right? After all, what did he really know about Caitlyn? He knew she’d been friends with his wife. She was intelligent, beautiful, charming, and very convincing. She’d voiced the same questions that had nagged at him for months, which was why he’d been willing to listen to her. He had no desire to be a part of convicting men of a crime they didn’t commit, but what if his boss was right? What if he was allowing emotion to cloud his common sense? He’d have to look into Caitlyn’s background himself so he wasn’t going into this blindfolded.
But more than that was bugging him.
“Josh . . .” Quinton caught up with him in the hallway on the way to the bullpen. “What’s the update?”
“The suspects are still being questioned, and I’ve just been ordered by the captain to take off a couple weeks.”
Quinton’s thick brows rose. “That might do you some good, and you can hardly blame him. You’ve been working twelve-to-fourteen-hour days. You’re exhausted.”
“I know, but this whole situation . . . something’s off.”
“I’ll give it to you that you have every right to be upset. Two guys jumped you in your own house. Shoot . . . I’d be ready to come out fighting. But you can’t jump to conclusions. Not until there’s more evidence.”
“I don’t know.” Josh leaned against the wall. “There was always something wrong about the verdict in Olivia’s death.”
“I know you’ve had doubts, but why the second thoughts now? You were one of the witnesses. The evidence was strong against those men.”
“It’s been easier just to not look back, to try to move on. But what if I was wrong?”
“You think they were set up?”
Josh nodded his head. “Too many things don’t add up. If the wrong men are in prison partly because of my testimony . . . I can’t let that happen.”
Quinton shook his head. “First of all, we don’t know that’s true, but even if it is, and these guys that broke into your house are somehow a part of it, the truth will come out. Give them time to question these guys. See what they can come up with.”
“I don’t think we have time. What about Caitlyn?” Josh asked. “Someone’s after her. She told me to meet her by noon or she’s leaving town.”
Quinton glanced at his watch. “Then if you plan to see her, you don’t have a lot of time.”
He nodded, but there was one thing he needed to do before he left. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
He continued walking toward the bullpen, paused at his own desk, then slipped in behind the computer monitor and pulled his chair forward. He paused before he typed Caitlyn’s name into the database. Her Department of Motor Vehicles information popped up. Her driving record was clean. No outstanding arrest warrants or personal criminal history. Nothing stood out. He switched to a second database.
There was a juvenile record that was sealed.
He tapped his fingers against the desk. Did it really matter? So she’d been in trouble as a teen. Despite whatever it was that she’d done, she’d clearly turned her life around. And it certainly didn’t reflect on who she was today.
He did another search, but this time just a Google search. There were a few random photos. An award she’d won for a paper she’d written. One of her at a charity event.
He moved his chair back and grabbed his coat, trying to put together a picture of the woman who’d just ripped open everything he’d worked hard to wrap up. He walked out of the precinct. It was time to dig into the past and find out the truth.