See No Evil

THREE

Julia Chandler was playing with fire. She didn’t care, she was used to it. But this time it wasn’t her job. Emily was in trouble and Julia would do anything to protect her niece.

She didn’t have to show her identification to be let into the crime scene. While it was rare to have a deputy district attorney show up at the beginning of a murder investigation, it wasn’t unheard of. Considering her take-no-prisoners reputation, no one wanted to cross her, cop or criminal.

Perhaps because of her high-profile background as a Chandler, where putting names to faces was required learning back in preschool, or because of her naturally sharp memory, or simply because she worked closely with law enforcement, Julia made it a point to recognize on sight those in uniform. Officer Diaz was manning the door, and her colleague was handling the prosecution of the gang member who shot him last month. The defense council was pushing for a plea, which the district attorney himself had refused. Andrew Stanton was not moved by the circumstances of the kid’s tragic upbringing. Neither was Julia, not when innocent bystanders were hurt.

“How’re you doing, Officer Diaz?” she asked. “Looks like you lost a few pounds.”

“Hospital food. I just started exercising full-time last week. I’ll bulk up.”

“Glad you’re back in form.”

She brushed by him, hoping the small talk had distracted him from asking her purpose.

“Um, Ms. Chandler?”

She stopped as she was about to follow Dr. Gage’s assistant down the hall to the presumed crime scene.

“I’ll need to tell Detective Hooper you’re here before you can go in.” He fidgeted. “You understand.”

She plastered a fake smile on her face. “Of course.”

“No need.” Will Hooper sauntered down the stairs, appearing laid-back and casual, but Julia knew better. The man was a shark, and she loved it when he took the witness stand. It was precisely because of his easygoing, flirtatious manner that he could turn a jury. She never had to spend much time prepping him for trial, which made her job a lot easier. And it was because of his testimony the other month in appellate court that she was able to keep a convicted murderer on death row. He held firm under fire.

“Hi, Will. Where’s your partner?”

“Vacation.” He pinned her with a curious blue-eyed stare and nodded toward the formal dining room off the main entrance. Her goose was cooked.

She closed the pocket doors behind her for privacy and turned to face the detective. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“You do?” He quirked his head.

“She’s my niece. I heard through the grapevine that Judge Montgomery was killed, what would you do in my shoes? Think I’m going to sit on my ass and wait to find out if my niece is dead or alive? Suicide? I don’t believe it.”

“Shit, Chandler, don’t mess with my case. Does Stanton know you’re here?”

She didn’t have to answer.

“Just because you’re Stanton’s shining star doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want.”

She rubbed her eyes, but when she pictured Emily she opened them. “I’m not going to jeopardize your case, Will. You know that. If anyone is a stickler for the rules, it’s me.”

He stared at her, and she stared right back. Don’t let him see you’re scared. Don’t let him see you have no power.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything. But right now, how’s Emily?”

“Why don’t you ask Crystal Montgomery? She’s in the living room.”

Julia bit her upper lip. “Crystal and I don’t always see eye-to-eye.” On anything.

“How close are you to your niece?”

“Not as close as I’d like.”

“That’s an evasive answer, Counselor.” He stared her down.

Julia took a deep breath. Will Hooper was one of the good guys, she reminded herself. “When my brother Matt died, Crystal refused to let me see Emily. I sued for visitation and won. I have her every Sunday.” And after school, whenever Julia could get free, but Will didn’t have to know that. If Crystal knew Julia had broken the court agreement, she’d drag her back before a judge and try to take away her Sundays, just out of spite.

It had already cost her half her family’s wealth-Matt’s inheritance-to see Emily. Julia had dropped the probate lawsuit when Crystal consented to a one-day-a-week visitation. At least Emily had a secure trust fund that Crystal couldn’t touch.

“Emily has a history of delinquency,” Will said, the friendly good guy gone and the hard-nosed cop in his place. “Runaway, vandalism-”

“You don’t have to quote her rap sheet to me, Detective,” she snapped, angry with herself for losing her temper. “I know Emily has problems. She’s been working hard to turn her life around. You don’t know her mother-”

“No, I don’t. But I’m about to go interview her.”

“I have a question for you, Will,” she said, trying but failing to keep the prosecutor out of her voice. “Why was there a lag time between the nine-one-one call and the call for an ambulance?”

Hooper’s eyes narrowed. “I was just about to ask Crystal Montgomery.”

“Why?”

“She didn’t tell anyone her daughter was in the house.”

Julia’s chest tightened and for a moment she almost couldn’t breathe. She whirled around, pushed the pocket doors into the wall, and strode across the hall to the living room. Will was behind her, but he didn’t stop her. The back of her mind ran scenarios: Why was he baiting her? Was this a game to see what kind of reaction Crystal had? Was Emily in deeper trouble than she knew? Julia was almost blind with anger when she opened the living-room doors.

Poised and classy, Crystal Montgomery emanated old money, though it was Chandler old money that had bought her style. A forty-something former fashion model in a chic business suit, a petite version of Professional Barbie, Crystal Montgomery was a viper in disguise.

Crystal’s mouth opened and closed, her eyes narrowed, and she glared at Julia. “What are you doing here?” she snarled.

“You found Victor dead and you didn’t even check on Emily? What’s wrong with you?”

“Don’t talk to me.”

“Answer my question!”

“I’m not on trial. I don’t have to answer your questions, Julia.”

Fists tightening, Julia whirled around to collect her temper. Think about Emily. Protecting her niece was the most important thing. She glanced at Detective Hooper, still standing by the door, a blank expression on his face.

Crystal saw Will at the same time. Her voice turned softer, worried, a hint of a tremble. “Detective. She…she killed Victor, didn’t she?”

“What?” Julia slowly turned to face her sister-in-law. “How can you even think such a thing?”

“The crime lab is on the premises and they have yet to make their report,” Will said formally, closing the wide living-room double doors behind him. “I have a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

“I refuse to allow Julia to be involved with this investigation,” Crystal said. “Isn’t there some conflict of interest? She’s related.”

“The inner workings of the District Attorney’s Office are far beyond my influence,” Will said noncommittally, but Julia registered the concern in his eyes.

“I’ll call Andrew Stanton myself.”

Will hardened, and Julia couldn’t help but feel a hint of glee that Crystal had shown her colors early on. No cop appreciated a threat to call any superior.

To avoid putting Will in a difficult position, primarily because she wanted him on her side, Julia said, “I’m leaving. But this isn’t over, Crystal. Don’t screw with Emily.”

“You’re blind, Julia. You always have been.”

Julia firmly shut the door behind her and gathered her wits. How could she be so certain of Emily’s innocence?

Beautiful, smart, destined for something wonderful, Emily wouldn’t have killed anyone. She was just sixteen, dammit, and even with all her problems an honor student.

But what were Emily’s problems? Running away three years ago had been a shock. Worse, Julia hadn’t even known Emily had run. Crystal didn’t tell her. It wasn’t until she came by the following Sunday morning to pick her up that Crystal said her daughter hadn’t come home from school on Tuesday. That had been five days previous. Emily could have been kidnapped, raped, or murdered. The prosecutor in Julia had envisioned every scenario with increasing dread.

Crystal had notified the police and filed a missing persons report forty-eight hours after Emily didn’t return home from school, but there was no evidence of foul play, no ransom request, nothing.

That was when Julia took matters into her own hands and hired a private investigator.

She straightened and everything became clear. Connor Kincaid. She couldn’t be involved in the investigation-she knew the DA would have a fit considering how politically charged this case promised to be-but Connor was a pit bull when he cared about something. And he cared about Emily. He’d tracked her down after three torturous months and brought her home.

He’d made it clear that finding Emily three years ago when she’d run away was the last time he planned on talking to Julia, but Connor wouldn’t turn his back on Emily when she needed him.

And she needed him, now more than ever. There was no way Julia could trust Crystal with Emily’s welfare. The police, though more than competent, had a multitude of cases on their plate. And the press…Julia didn’t even want to think what was going to be in the newspapers and on television over the coming days. She’d managed to keep a low profile, especially after Matt died, but the vultures always circled around the money and tragedy that surrounded the Chandler name.

She pulled out her cell phone and looked up Connor’s number in her electronic address book. She’d had to swallow her pride to call him three years ago to find Emily, but she still had his number. Just in case.

His voice mail picked up. “Kincaid here. Leave a message.” Beep.

Why was her heart pounding? She cleared her throat. “Connor, it’s Julia Chandler. I have a job for you. It’s about Emily.” She left her number and hung up. She hated using Em’s name, but he’d never call back if he thought it would help her.

“Counselor?” Jim Gage came down the stairs and cocked his head. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to check on my niece, Emily.”

Gage didn’t look surprised. “She’s at the hospital. Where’s Hooper?”

“Talking to the victim’s wife.”

“Would that be your sister-in-law?”

“Unfortunately.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I haven’t touched anything. Tell me what happened.” When Gage didn’t respond, she added, “I’m going to hear about it when I get to the office.”

Detective Hooper stepped out of the living room, closed the doors behind him, and glanced from Julia to Gage. “Well, that didn’t go over too well. Mrs. Montgomery’s calling her lawyer.”

“Why?” Julia asked. “Is she a suspect?”

“She has an alibi.” He paused, uncertain.

“Will, I just told Gage that I’ll hear all the details anyway. You know that. Just spill it.”

“I can’t imagine a mother not worried about her teenaged daughter after she discovers her husband murdered,” he said simply. “It just doesn’t ring true.”

“You don’t know Crystal Montgomery. She’s a sociopath,” Julia said.

“What?”

“She’s narcissistic and a pathological liar. My brother was married to her for ten years and I had to fight for visitation of my only niece after he died. She would never think of Emily first, second, or last. It’s all Crystal, all the time. The phrase, ‘it’s all about me’ could have been coined just for her.”

Julia cleared her throat. “Look, I need to know what happened to Victor. Emily couldn’t possibly have killed him. I know my niece.”

Gage put up his hands. “Stop. This is a preliminary investigation and a crime scene, not a deposition.”

“Are you done upstairs?” Will asked.

“Almost.” He looked over Julia’s shoulder at Will.

“I get it,” she said, irritated. “You want me to leave. I will, right after you tell me what happened to Victor.”

It was Will who spoke. “He was killed in his den. His, um, penis was removed.”

She swallowed hard, unable to speak.

“Actually,” Gage said, “he choked to death. On his penis.”

Julia blanched. “And you think a young girl is capable of that?”

“She couldn’t have done it alone,” Gage said. “At least two other people helped.”

“So you think that a sixteen-year-old girl could convince two others to choke to death a fifty-year-old judge with his own dick? What did the killer use? A knife?” Julia’s mind went through all the scenarios. “He’d have to have been drugged or restrained. Did you find rope, tape, or-”

“Ms. Chandler, we’re in the middle of the investigation and the district attorney will be getting our report shortly.” Gage suddenly looked tired and irritated.

“Did you know that Judge Montgomery just sentenced Herman Santos to death row?” Julia said. “He has enough people to pull off something like this, and-”

She mentally hit herself.

“Of course you know that.” Julia released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Okay. I understand. But don’t you think it’s odd that the wife of the victim didn’t inform dispatch that there was possibly a second victim in the house? What would a normal person do if you walked in and found your spouse murdered?”

Will said, “I’d hunt through the house for the culprit.”

“Don’t think like a cop.”

Gage nodded. “If I were in her shoes, I might leave the house out of fear. Call nine-one-one.”

“And tell them your daughter might be in the house.”

“Maybe she was too distraught. In shock. It wasn’t a pretty scene.”

“Murder never is, Dr. Gage.”

Will interjected, “Even if she was in shock, when the responding officers arrived, at the very least, she should have told them there was someone else inside. They searched the house per protocol, looking first for a culprit.”

“Exactly.” Julia nodded.

“Maybe the mother didn’t think she was home?” Gage offered.

“Emily is on probation,” Julia said. “She has to be at home from six p.m. through six a.m. every day unless she is with a parent or guardian.”

“What did she do to land probation?”

Julia took a deep breath. “She vandalized the courthouse last year.”

Recognition sparked in Gage’s eyes. “I remember. Graffiti.”

“She spray-painted ‘hypocrites’ all over the building,” Will said. “Some sort of political statement?” He looked at Julia for answers she didn’t have.

“Emily never talked about it. That’s why she was sent to a psychiatrist. That was one of the court orders.”

Will made note of that. “Dr. Garrett Bowen.”

“Right.”

“He prescribed a lot of medication for a teenager.”

Julia tensed. Now she needed to get out. She knew too much about the medication, too much about what Emily was and was not doing with it.

She would not jeopardize her niece, but she couldn’t lie to law enforcement. They were on the same side. She had to remember that.

“Emily did not kill Victor Montgomery,” Julia said. “That much I know.”

“But maybe she knows who did,” Will said pointedly.

Julia ached for her niece. “I’m going to the hospital.”

“Don’t interview her,” Will warned.

“I’m not,” she snapped. “She needs someone who loves her right now, and I think I’m the only person in the world who does.”

Will walked Julia to her car. “Julia.”

She turned to look at him, swallowing the fear and worry that rose in her throat. “What?”

“I have the utmost respect for you. You’re one of the best we have in the DA’s office. But I have to tell you something as a friend.” He stared at her, his expression stern. “The only thing you can do for Emily right now is to get her an attorney. And you have the money to hire the best.”

She put a hand on her stomach, feeling sucker-punched. “Is the evidence that damning?”

Will sighed. “It doesn’t look good.”

Julia slid into her car, then made the second call she didn’t want to make. This time, the person called picked up the phone.

“Iris Jones.”

“Iris, it’s Julia Chandler.”

Iris laughed, low and full of irony. At least, that’s how it sounded to Julia. “I heard about Montgomery.”

“News travels fast.”

“Helps when you’re listening. I knew you’d call me.”

Julia almost hung up. She didn’t like Iris Jones, attorney-at-law, or Iris Jones, the person. Oil versus water. Justice versus anarchy.

But Iris was as good at her job as Julia was at hers, and she had a grudging respect for the woman.

“Emily was taken to Scripps Memorial. Can you meet me tonight?”

“Give me an hour.”

Will watched Julia drive off, wondering who she’d been talking to on the phone. He motioned to Diaz. “Hey, follow the counselor. I think she’s going to the hospital to visit her niece. Relieve the guard we have on Ms. Montgomery’s room and let me know what they say, okay?”

“Roger that.” Diaz left.

Gage joined him on the drive. “Chandler is going to be pissed if she finds out,” Gage said.

“She’d be doing the same thing if she were thinking straight,” Will countered. “It’s pretty obvious what’s going on. Julia Chandler and Crystal Montgomery hate each other. Crystal was married to Julia’s brother. He dies, and Crystal wants the Chandler money but not the Chandler family. I remember when Emily ran away.”

“I don’t,” Gage said.

“Connor Kincaid was the PI who found her.” As Carina Kincaid’s partner, Will was an honorary member of the Kincaid family. He knew more than most about Connor’s life since he’d been pushed off the police force.

“I’ve called the e-crimes unit to dismantle and check the computers and security system,” Gage said. “They’ll be here in an hour.”

“By the book, that’s all we can do right now.”

One of the crime technicians entered the front door.

“Dr. Gage?”

“What?”

“We found shears with possible blood evidence.”

“Shears?”

The assistant held up pruning shears sealed in a clear, thick plastic evidence bag. The curved blades made up half the ten-inch length. Except for the dried blood, they looked new and unused.

“Where’d you find them?”

“In the gardening shed behind the house. We have some foot impressions and other possible evidence. We’re collecting molds right now.”

“Keep me informed.”

Will said, “If the killer put the shears back in the shed, it couldn’t have been the stepdaughter, not in her condition.”

“I never believed she acted alone.”