Killer Ambition

39

When we got back to the station, Bailey called the evidence officer and asked what else they’d found so far.

“Anything good?” I asked when she hung up.

“A nine-millimeter Ruger. Bottom drawer of his nightstand.”

“Registered?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t. It was a puny charge, but at least it was solid.

“Yes. Which is more than I can say for you-”

“My guns are registered.”

“Now. After I pounded on you repeatedly for months.”

“I’d been busy. Did they get his toothbrush or anything we can use for DNA?”

“A toothbrush and a used condom.”

“Great. And yuck.” Gross, but great. “Have we checked out Averly’s bank accounts?”

“You mean like for a deposit of at least half a million in cash?”

I nodded.

“Of course. I put in the request before we left for New York.”

“And?”

“If the answer was yes, don’t you think I’d have told you by now?”

Her phone rang and she answered it. “That was Numan’s assistant,” she said. “The particulates and plant debris on Averly’s Mustang came from Boney Mountain. They look very similar to the samples that were taken from Brian’s car.”

“So Averly’s car was up there too. Now the question is, can we put Ian in that car?”

“That’s Dorian’s problem,” Bailey said. “We’ve got one of our own: like what are we going to do with Ian’s laptop?”

I’d been thinking about that on the ride back to the station. “We could throw caution to the wind and just dig into it. Or we could go to court and ask to have a Special Master appointed to look through everything and make sure there aren’t any privileged materials on it.”

Usually the court appoints a Special Master-a lawyer well versed in legal privileges-to examine files only when they belong to a shrink or a lawyer. Getting one in this case was a bit of overkill, but I didn’t want to risk losing something critical on the off chance we ran into something we weren’t supposed to see.

“Doesn’t it take a while to get a Special Master appointed?”

“It can. But it doesn’t have to.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I could probably get a judge to appoint Daniel Rose to do it right now.”

“I repeat: what are you thinking?”

Daniel Rose was well recognized as both a legal scholar and a brilliant trial lawyer; his practice used to consist primarily of giving expert opinions on whether lawyers had rendered ineffective assistance-in legal parlance, a Strickland lawyer. Any judge would be happy to appoint him Special Master. Bailey’s concern wasn’t legal, it was personal. Daniel and I had been in a serious relationship a few years ago, until I’d hit an emotional bump and ended it. Last year, after I’d broken up with Graden, I ran into Daniel at Checkers, a restaurant in the downtown Hilton Hotel. He said he planned to move into a condo not far from the Biltmore, and a few months later, he made good on his word. Since then, he’d dropped some hints that he’d be interested in getting back together. Though I hadn’t taken him up on his offer, I never really turned him down either. But I figured that the ever-active courthouse gossip mill would have clued him in about me and Graden by now, so there was no need to get all telenovela about it.

“I can just ask the judge to appoint him, and then you can let him check out the computer.”

Bailey looked at me warily, but conceded that might work. “Which judge?”

“I think we stick with Judge Moss.”

“Probably a good idea. Plus, it’ll impress her that you’re being so careful.”

I smiled.

Bailey raised an eyebrow and pushed her desk phone over to me. “Here.”

I dialed. Judge Moss approved. I hung up and told Bailey she’d be hearing from Daniel soon.

“And you probably don’t need to run into him-especially not here,” Bailey said.

Where Graden could walk by and see us, and think…the wrong thing. I nodded and started to leave, then turned back. “If Dorian says it’s Ian hair in Jack Averly’s Mustang, I’m going back to Judge Moss to get the GPS on Ian’s cars.”

“’Course.”

Bailey’s phone rang and I moved slowly, straining to hear who it was. I heard her say, “Just a sec.

“Do you need an escort, Counselor?” she called out to me, eyebrow raised.

I glared at her, then turned and headed for the elevator.