Poisonous: A Novel (6 page)

Grace got up and stretched. Max hoped that didn’t mean she was calling the interview off—she still had several questions.

However, Grace simply walked around the small room rubbing the small of her back. “My back gets to me—all the years I was a beat cop wearing that damn utility belt. You know how much they weigh? Mine was eighteen pounds. Ruined my back.” She sat back down on the edge of the table and continued. “What I really fear is that the person responsible is a teenager with sociopathic tendencies. Most of the time when a young person faces questioning, they give something away. They may not confess right away, but they trip themselves up. Or the guilt pushes them to confess. Or they tell someone, who comes to the police or tells someone else. These are teenagers. Secrets are hard to keep in the age of the Internet.”

Max knew that was true. “Or it’s someone you haven’t interviewed.”

“Could be.”

“I told you over the phone that Ivy’s stepbrother wrote to me about the murder,” Max said. “Tommy Wallace.”

“Yeah.”

“Is that out of character?”

“I couldn’t say. But he came by a couple months ago asking about the investigation. I told him to talk to his parents.”

“Did you consider him a suspect?”

“Not for long. His mother swears he was in bed, asleep. I told you he’s a bit slow, I think they now call it intelligence disabled. Very polite, nice kid. Answered all my questions without hesitation, I don’t know if he even has the capacity to lie or manipulate. He certainly has the physical strength to push someone off a cliff, and several witnesses recounted how cruel Ivy was to Tommy. He’s been in a few fights. Nothing that the police were called into, but when we spoke to the high school, we got a copy of his disciplinary record. In each case there were conflicting statements about how the fights started, but after interviewing several students and teachers, I determined that each time Tommy had been intentionally provoked or was defending his stepbrother. He never struck first. But because he was the biggest kid involved, he got the blame.”

“Could Ivy have provoked him?”

Grace considered. “I suppose. But he hasn’t been in a fight in over two years. His teacher told me he’s a gentle kid.” She paused, as if remembering something. “After the fights, his mother said Tommy wouldn’t speak for days.”

“Why does his stepmother think he killed Ivy?”

“Honestly? She wants someone to blame, and Tommy is different. He’s a large young man, tall and broad-shouldered. Not overweight, but not lean, either. He looks intimidating, until you talk to him.”

“There must be a specific reason that Paula Wallace thinks her stepson is capable of murder.”

Grace’s expression hardened a little, and she shifted away slightly. Defensive and prepared to argue. “You’re not going to use Tommy for target practice, are you?”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“The kid is simple. Stutters when he’s nervous. People tend to go for the easy target.”

“I won’t take that comment as an insult,” Max snapped.

“Take it any way you want,” Grace said.

“I’m looking for the truth. Whatever the truth is.” Max retrieved a copy of the letter Tommy had written her and slid it over to Grace. The detective took a moment to read it, then handed it back.

“I see,” she said. “I didn’t realize Tommy wasn’t allowed at his father’s house.”

“I ask again,” Max said, more formal than necessary because she
had
been insulted, “did Mrs. Wallace have a specific reason to believe Tommy was guilty?”

“She said Ivy had been scared of Tommy, that Ivy had told her mother he looked at her funny.”

“Funny how?”

“Mrs. Wallace took that to mean sexual, but there was no evidence or any other statements that Tommy had a sexual interest in Ivy.” Grace lost her edge and relaxed, as much as a cop could relax. “He’s a simple kid, Ms. Revere.”

Max’s anger fell away as well. Grace was protective, a cop, suspicious of everyone. “Call me Max.”

“If I may ask, Max, what do you plan to do that you think we didn’t? Because I investigated this case fully. There is no evidence pointing to any one person.” She was still defensive. Subtle, but worried she might have missed something. If Grace hadn’t been so helpful and open, Max would have pushed that card and used it to her advantage; however, Grace had been more than accommodating and Max decided being direct would benefit her investigation.

“I will talk to Tommy first, then go from there. I’ll interview the Brock family, Bailey Fairstein, Travis Whitman, Ivy’s mother, and Tommy’s parents. I will speak with Austin and Tommy’s sister, Amanda. Sometimes, all it takes is a fresh pair of eyes—and a different slant on the questions. Plus, fourteen months have passed. This isn’t a priority for you.” Max instantly realized that was the wrong thing to say.

“Corte Madera isn’t a large community, Ms. Revere. Every crime is a priority.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean to imply you didn’t care.”

Grace nodded that she accepted the apology. Damn, Max really hated feeling like she had to walk on eggshells, but having Grace’s cooperation would make her investigation easier.

“I’d also like to bring in a private forensic investigator,” she said. “Former deputy sheriff, licensed by the state, who I’ve worked with a few times on cold cases. The firm has an outstanding reputation and is funded by a grant, so there is often no cost to local law enforcement. They have a lab at UC Davis and have access to the most advanced equipment, including computer modeling.”

“UC Davis? Are you talking about Nor-Cal Forensic Institute?”

“Yes—Graham Jones. He and his wife, Dr. Julia Mendoza, run it.”

“I don’t know them, but I’ve heard of the institute. I’ll talk to my boss. I don’t see that there would be a problem going to the crime scene and allowing them access to our records and photos, but there is minimal evidence. Everything we had was analyzed by the state lab.”

“If you grant permission, the state will share their findings and methodology.”

“Again, I need to talk to my boss.” Grace leaned against the table. “It’s after seven. I’m beat, and my son is having a barbecue tonight. Do you need anything else?”

Max stood. She had a few more questions, but they weren’t critical now. She extended her hand. “Thank you for your time. I may have some follow-up questions, but I’ll e-mail them. Let me know about NCFI. Graham said he could clear Wednesday to come down.”

Grace looked surprised. “I’ve heard hiring NCFI is competitive. It can take weeks or months before they can take a case.”

“They’re definitely not looking for work, but we’ve been friends for years.” That was only partly true. Max didn’t see the need to explain that she partly funded their grant after investigating a cold case in Sacramento when Graham was still a deputy, or that Julia had become one of her closest friends. Graham would do almost anything for her. Within reason.

Chapter Four

Max and David sat down at Scoma’s at eight thirty that evening. She was famished and immediately ordered both the calamari calabrese and oysters appetizer for her and David to share, as well as a bottle of an Italian red that was pricey but she knew to be delicious. “You’ll have a glass with me, won’t you? You’re not here as a bodyguard, so you’re off duty.”

“With you, I’m never off duty.”

“You’ve been grumpy ever since you picked me up at the police station.”

“I really don’t want to discuss it.”

“I didn’t ask. I figured Brittney treated you like crap and you took it.”

His scarred face hardened. “Stop.”

She sipped her wine and leaned back. “I’m sorry.” She didn’t mean it and David knew it. She loathed the way Brittney treated David, and she wanted him to stand up to her. She wondered if Emma ever looked at her father and thought,
wimp
. Max almost smiled at the idea—no one would use the word
wimp
or
weak
for the ex–Army Ranger. Yet Max hoped Emma understood what David sacrificed in order to spend time with her.

Maybe a few months ago she would have pushed David harder, resulting in him walking out by her clearly making her point; now she didn’t want to risk their friendship. Her growing dependency on him made her uneasy. Intellectually she understood that her nearly dying at the hands of a psychopath had forged a connection between her and the person hired to protect and assist her. What she hadn’t expected was that with it came an emotional need for her to continually smooth things over with David, to avoid confrontation. Max had never been dependent on anyone, and she rarely avoided confrontations.

Instead, she changed the subject. “Did you see your dad?”

“I’m having lunch with him tomorrow.”

“Good. I was hoping to meet him before we go back to New York.”

She’d never met David’s father or anyone in his family. David didn’t talk much about his childhood, which was marked by the death of his mother when David was fourteen. She didn’t know how close David was with his father, though he made a point to visit him every time a trip brought them west.

“We’ll see,” David said. He wasn’t looking at Max, and she wondered if there was a problem with him and his dad—or with her and David. Was she overthinking this? Why didn’t she just ask him? When had she started second-guessing herself?

“I did get one concession out of Brittney,” David continued. “Emma’s birthday is next Monday; she agreed to let me take her to dinner Sunday night. I’ll take her to my dad’s house. If you’re not still working the case, you can join us.”

She smiled and relaxed. Max was reading far too much into every conversation she had these days. “And that’s okay with Brittney?”

“Brittney and my dad get along. I have Evelyn to thank for that.”

“Evelyn?”

“Brittney’s mother. If it weren’t for Evelyn, Brittney wouldn’t have even put my name on Emma’s birth certificate. I wouldn’t have had a chance to know her. Brittney has a lot of anger towards me, some of it justified.”

“Hardly,” Max said.

He stared at her. “I’ve never told you what happened.”

“I know you.”

David was about to respond when the waiter delivered their appetizers.

Max started in on the oysters. “You’d better eat half. Otherwise, I’ll eat everything and not my lobster.”

David put them on to his plate. They ate in silence for a moment, then David said, “I’ve told you some of my history with Brittney. What I never said was that originally, when I found out she was pregnant, I offered to marry her. She was eighteen, I’d just turned nineteen, we were both about to graduate from high school. Brittney knew I didn’t love her, but she wanted to get married. Maybe it was partly being pregnant, maybe she really did have feelings for me, I don’t know. But the closer the wedding day came, the more I realized I couldn’t do it. I’d been living a lie for so long, I couldn’t ruin her life, too. I came out, told her I was gay, and that was it. She swore I’d never see the baby. Evelyn stepped in and helped craft the custody agreement. Evelyn’s the one that makes sure my dad’s included in their family events. Emma has a great relationship with all three of her grandparents. Brittney’s father still won’t have anything to do with me, but he and my dad are cordial.” He paused. “I know I hurt Brittney. I didn’t intend to, but that was the result.”

Max was not only stunned that David had shared so much of himself, but that he used so many words to do it. She said, “While I could see a teenager harboring such vengeful anger, that still doesn’t justify how Brittney treats you now and tries to damage your relationship with your daughter.” David’s mouth drew into a thin line, and she quickly added, “But, like your advice to me about Nick, I’ll stay out of it.”

“If you only meant that,” he muttered.

She moved on to the calamari. She would try her hardest to support David, but she had a difficult time doing it when she didn’t fully understand his decisions.

“I’ll try,” she said quietly.

She took a bite of the spicy calamari and sipped more wine. She turned the conversation back to the case, where her confidence was warranted.

“I want to interview Travis Whitman first. He was one of two main suspects but had an alibi. According to his social media, he’s out of school every day at lunch, then returns at three fifteen for football practice.”

“How do you want to approach him?”

“I thought I’d wait at his car when he gets out of class.”

“Confrontational.”

“After my conversation with Grace, I think direct is the best approach. I don’t want Travis to know I’m here or have a chance to prepare for the meeting. Catching him off guard will help me assess his honesty. I tried to reach Bailey Fairstein, Ivy’s best friend—former best friend, according to the gossip—but she didn’t answer and hasn’t called me back. I’ll give her a day, then I’ll try again.”

“Going to show up at her school unannounced as well?”

“Bailey transferred to an all-girls’ parochial school after Heather killed herself. I don’t think that’s a coincidence—changing schools, cutting off ties to Ivy, distancing herself from her former life. At least, that’s what I gathered through research. Bailey doesn’t have a digital footprint.”

“How old is she?”

“Seventeen—a senior, like Ivy would have been.”

“I thought all teenagers these days lived on social media.”

“Very interesting that she doesn’t, right? Makes research harder of course, but I would prefer to talk to her anyway. And I can’t help but assume that her lack of Facebook and Instagram is because of what Ivy had been doing.” She took the last bite of calamari and washed it down with the wine. “I’ll need to talk to the Brocks as well, and that’s going to be sensitive. I also need to reach out to each family: Ivy’s mother and Tommy’s mother. Ben is contacting Ivy’s mother about interviewing her for a segment on ‘Crime NET’. I suspect she’ll be more open to the idea if the show’s producer calls her.”

“I should be there when you speak to the Brocks.”

It took her a second to catch David’s tone. She was exhausted, she realized. It was after midnight in New York. “Why?”