Poisonous

by Allison Brennan

  “High school sweethearts?”

  “It’s more than that—neither Justin nor Laura have much of a social media presence, which isn’t surprising considering Justin’s little sister was cyberbullied. So I dug around a bit and I think they’re engaged.”

  “Think?”

  “There hasn’t been an announcement in the newspaper or anything, but I spent hours going through every psych major at UCLA on Facebook and found Laura’s name and photo pop up a few times here and there—not tagged because she doesn’t have a profile. Stanford gets out for the summer three weeks before UCLA. Memorial Day weekend, there’s a photo of Laura and Justin on who I’m thinking is Laura’s best friend’s page. No names, but the caption is, ‘Prince Charming just made my BFF the happiest girl on earth.’ Laura was sporting a rock the size of Gibraltar.”

  “Good work, Jess. Get some sleep.”

  David hung up and let himself into Max’s suite. He wrote down the dates—if Laura Lorenzo was a college junior, four years ago she was a high school junior. Justin was four years older than his sister, which meant Laura was a senior when Ivy and Heather were freshmen. They’d all gone to the same school.

  Lance was older than all of them, but he must have been privy to the connections. Corte Madera was a small town, and half the kids from Mill Valley went to the high school in Corte Madera. It definitely fit that Lorenzo knew the Brock family well—his sister was marrying into the clan—which could explain why he had shaped his articles on the Brock civil suit to make the Wallace family look particularly bad.

  But why was Lorenzo pushing so hard that Ivy’s death was accidental? David looked in Max’s master case file and saw that Justin Brock had been in town the weekend that Ivy was killed. He’d been with his girlfriend until midnight, then gone home—alone. The girlfriend’s name wasn’t in the file, which meant that the CMPA hadn’t released the name to Max. His parents had been in Europe for the month. His girlfriend was likely Laura Lorenzo. If they were dating in high school and engaged a few months ago, chances were that they were involved last summer as well.

  It wouldn’t be the first time that a friend covered up for another friend. With the power of the press—and the lack of physical evidence—it would be relatively easy for Lance Lorenzo to sell the public on the fact that Ivy Lake’s death was purely an accident. She’d been up at the preserve at night alone and fell. Write it off as a tragic accident.

  Except for the not-too-small detail of why she was at the preserve in the middle of the night in the first place.

  Max walked in. She looked a bit surprised to see David in her room, then said, “Did you learn something?”

  “Lance Lorenzo’s sister is engaged to Justin Brock.”

  She stared, then smiled. “That’s my in.”

  “In?”

  “I want to talk to Justin. I couldn’t get through to his mother, but I can get through to him.”

  David frowned. “He could be the killer, Max. And Lorenzo is protecting him by running with the story that Ivy’s death was an accident.”

  “Graham proved it wasn’t an accident. Well, his computer model gave him an eighty-five percent chance that she was thrown off the cliff.”

  “Thrown? Not pushed?”

  “Thrown or pushed hard. And he has some more questions about the body. The chief had a change of heart and is giving NCFI full access. I just checked Ruby in to the hotel, she’s meeting with the ME tomorrow morning, then the state lab that processed biological evidence. Graham and Hunt went back to Sacramento.”

  “What questions does Graham have?”

  “Specifically, time of death. TOD was sketchy. According to Graham, when there are extreme fluctuations in temperature and moisture, time of death can be off by hours, sometimes days, unless you bring in an etymologist.”

  “And is that what Ruby is?” David had only met Graham Jones and his wife Julia once. He didn’t know anyone on their team.

  “Ruby is an expert on damn near everything. The girl is brilliant. And younger than me.”

  “Jealousy or pride?”

  “Pride. If I were gay, I’d be in love. But she’s married to Graham’s younger brother, so I’m shit out of luck.”

  David laughed. Max didn’t joke much, especially over the last few months. Hearing her lighten up eased his mind. He’d been worried about her, which was no surprise considering she was attacked and nearly killed three months ago. He’d once broached the subject of PTSD causing her insomnia, and she’d dismissed him. He knew she’d seen a doctor, but refused both sleeping pills and a shrink.

  Max dumped all her stuff on the desk and said, “We’re going to Jenny Wallace’s house. I sent her a message that we’d be there by eight, I just want to change.”

  David called into the bedroom. “So what’s off about the time of Ivy’s death?”

  “I think she went up to the preserve to meet someone, and they killed her. I think they sent the tweet from her phone hours later.”

  “To give themselves an alibi.”

  “Exactly. If Ivy was killed closer to eleven, perhaps different questions would have been asked to different people. We don’t know. But Grace is going to go through her notes and the witness statements and see if there is anything to pursue. Ruby is going to work her magic with bugs and fly larvae and see if she can confirm that Ivy was killed earlier than first thought. The computer says she was—but Ruby’s one of those people who has to confirm it with physical science.”

  “Do they still have that kind of evidence?”

  “If they collected it, they have it since it’s an open case.”

  Max came out of her room dressed in gray slacks and a royal blue sweater. She’d put her hair back in a ponytail and had taken off some of her makeup. She looked years younger.

  “What’s with the getup?” he asked.

  “I want Tommy to feel comfortable, prepare him for going on camera tomorrow. Dressing down helps the comfort level with kids. On your other question, Ruby said she may be able to make a finding if the photographs are detailed enough. Graham said we can have her as long as we need her—provided she’s back in his lab on Monday.”

  “That’s generous of him.”

  Max laughed. “Generous? He and Julia are taking the girls up to my cabin over Christmas. Ten days. And I had to call in a favor to my uncle Sterling to get me tickets to a Forty-niners game for Grace’s boss. This investigation is costing me.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  “We’ll eat after we see Tommy.”

  David opened the cabinet, took out a banana, and handed it to her. “We didn’t have time for lunch.”

  “I grabbed a smoothie on my way to the preserve.”

  “Just eat it.”

  She peeled the banana and took a bite.

  “I may have scared Tommy today.” David explained what happened while following Lorenzo.

  “That bastard said he was working with me?”

  “Cool down. Right now, I’m the bad cop in this situation. I don’t like that he knows who my daughter is, but fortunately, Austin is quick on his feet and didn’t give anything away.”

  “You mean that you work for me?”

  “Exactly. Lorenzo will be able to find out, but it’ll take time. I’m not the public face of ‘Maximum Exposure.’”

  “You like Austin.”

  “He was holding Emma’s hand. I wanted to pound him into the ground. But the kid has good instincts. He was immediately suspicious of Lorenzo.”

  “Why did Lorenzo want to talk to Emma?”

  “He didn’t—he followed Tommy from school. He wanted to talk to Austin. He knows you’re working with Tommy. He knows Tommy is slow, and that Austin is the one to talk to. He wants to know what they told you, and what you’re doing. That’s my educated guess.”

  “Because you think he’s protecting Justin Brock.”

  “Or he could be working on another story for his blog. I have photos of him with different people, one of whom
I couldn’t identify. Your staff is working on it. And he met with a uniformed cop. Young cop, looks like he’s a rookie. I have his unit number, should be easy to find out who he is.”

  That certainly explained how Lorenzo got some of his inside information. Max said, “Grace is not aware of that—or if she is, she didn’t say anything to me.”

  “You’re going to tell her?”

  “Of course I am. They need to know—but I’m going to mull over this a bit first. Lorenzo made an enemy of the wrong person. I said I would destroy him, and now I have a way to do it.”

  Chapter Twenty

  A teenaged girl with sun-streaked brown hair answered the door. She eyed Max and David with both curiosity and suspicion. “You must be the reporters,” she said.

  “I’m Maxine Revere, this is David Kane. Your mother is expecting us. Amanda, right?”

  She nodded and opened the door to let them in.

  Like her workplace, Jenny’s house was an eclectic mix of old and new. The design and furnishings worked together, from the rustic stained wood floors to the large colorful throw rugs with geometric shapes; from the plush oversized denim furniture paired with small, antique tables. Every surface had some sort of design on it—like the dried flower arrangements in the middle of the bookshelves to a collection of antique brass frames with ancestral photos on a corner table to an alcove off the kitchen with small shelves supporting a collection of antique salt and pepper shakers from around the world.

  A little too much clutter for Max, but it was cozy.

  Jenny stepped out of the kitchen, looking nervous, but she smiled politely when Max introduced David.

  “Do you have homework, Amanda?” she asked.

  “Finished,” Amanda said. “I want to stay, Mom. This affects me, too.”

  “I just hate dragging you into this.”

  “Where’s Tommy?” Max asked.

  “He and Austin are playing video games in the den. Tommy was agitated and upset, I don’t know that this is a good idea. I told him I read the letter he wrote you, and then he was worried he hurt my feelings. I assured him that he didn’t, that he didn’t do anything wrong, but he’s so very sensitive.”

  “I didn’t bring a cameraman because we’re just here to talk to Tommy about what to expect tomorrow,” Max said.

  “I’m livid,” Jenny said. “That … that woman would make my son feel as if he were banished.”

  “Unfortunately, as I told Tommy, even if we solve Ivy’s murder, things may not change at his father’s house.”

  “Well, my ex-husband will hear a thing or two from me about that,” Jenny said.

  Max understood Jenny’s anger, but it wasn’t going to do them any good now. “I didn’t show you Tommy’s letter to create friction between you and your ex—”

  “Don’t worry about it. There’s been plenty of friction ever since that adulterous bastard left us for them.”

  Odd, Max thought. Left us for them. Did Jenny think that Bill had traded one family for another? Maybe she did … but it had been more than seven years since the divorce. Max wanted to tell the lady to get over it … but who was she to talk? Max’s mother had walked out on her more than twenty years ago and she still had a lot of anger about it.

  Anger, yes, but a deeper need to know why.

  David cleared his throat. “It might be best if you avoided that particular conversation for the next few days. Our goal is to run the news segment, detail the facts, speculate on motive based on those facts, and encourage people to call the hotline.”

  “We have some new information that may spark someone’s memory,” Max said.

  “What is it?” Jenny asked.

  “I haven’t decided how to present the information, so I’m going to hold off sharing right now—and I’m hoping Detective Martin will go on camera with it. That will have more impact.” Grace said she didn’t want to make public the revelation, but had also seemed swayed by Max’s argument that new evidence could bring out new witnesses. They’d agreed to discuss it again in the morning after Grace reviewed all the statements and alibis and talked to her chief.

  “Can you direct me to Tommy?” said Max. “I only want to make him comfortable with this process.” She always tried to work with the victim’s families before an interview, but she’d never felt so compelled to make it as easy for someone as she was for Tommy Wallace.

  “I’ll get them,” Amanda said and went down the hall.

  “Can I get you anything?” Jenny asked. “I just made a pot of coffee—half-caf.”

  “That would be nice, thank you,” Max said.

  “Yes, thank you, Mrs. Wallace,” David said. “Let me help.”

  “I’m fine, I’ll bring a tray to the living room.” She went back to the kitchen.

  “Nervous,” Max said.

  “Worried about her son,” David countered. “Angry.” He was about to say something else, but closed his mouth.

  Amanda returned with Austin and Tommy. She sat next to Tommy on the couch while Austin took a seat across from David. Tommy was positioned to be as far from David as possible and still be in the living room.

  “Hi, Tommy,” Max said. “David told me what happened this afternoon.”

  “The reporter said he worked with you. He lied. That’s wrong.” Tommy was tense, his hands clasped tight in his lap, his posture rigid.

  “Tommy, it’s more than wrong. Lying is the coward’s way out.”

  He frowned. “I don’t understand what that means.”

  “When people lie, a lot of times it’s because they don’t want to get in trouble for something they did. Or they lie to trick people into telling them something. Like what Mr. Lorenzo tried to do today. I trust David, though. I know he looks a little scary, but do you know how he got that scar on his face?”

  “How?” Tommy said, eyes wide with curiosity.

  “When he was in the army. He was helping his unit evacuate a hospital that was in an area being bombed. Shrapnel—that’s metal and debris that is flying around when bombs go off—hit him in the face.”

  “Max,” David said quietly.

  David didn’t like to talk about what he did in the army, but Max had researched him shortly after Ben hired him. He’d done far more heroic things and had many more scars, but few that could be seen when he was fully dressed.

  “Really?” Tommy asked, interested.

  Austin said, “Emma said you saved a kid who was trapped in a bombed building and got shot in the back. She also said you rescued girls from an illegal school that was under attack. And—”

  “I’m not going to talk about this now,” David said sharply.

  “My point is,” Max said, “sometimes people aren’t what they look like. They might look nice and friendly, but they aren’t. Others might look gruff”—she glanced at David and resisted the smile that wanted to come out—“but they’re kind.”

  Tommy’s eyes lit up like he’d made a huge discovery. “I know! I know! ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover.’ My teacher, Mrs. Haserot, says that all the time. She’s my favorite teacher.”

  “She’s smart, and it’s good that you understand what that means. It’s important. That’s how the police solve crimes. They look at the facts, at the evidence, and all the people involved, but they can’t or they shouldn’t make judgments just because they don’t like how someone looks. When I talk to you tomorrow, I don’t want you to think about me, or how you might look or sound, I want you to be honest. To tell me what you think, what you feel. Don’t worry about how it’s going to sound. I promised your mother, and I promise you, I’m going to make the show exactly what it needs to be to find the truth.”

  Jenny came in with a tray of coffee and hot chocolate. She put it down and took a few moments to hand everyone their drink.

  Jenny sat down next to her daughter and squeezed her hand. “I’ll admit to being concerned about what’s going to happen after this segment airs. You said Paula isn’t going to support the show.”
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  “That’s her right,” Max said. “But I think we’ll find the answers we need.”

  “My mom’s a bitch,” Austin said.

  “She’s your mother,” David said firmly. “Show her some respect.”

  “Why? She’s hasn’t earned it.”

  “She lost a child,” David said.

  “What was her excuse before Ivy was killed?” Austin looked David in the eye and didn’t waver even when David stared back.

  This conversation was going to deteriorate if Max didn’t steer it back on track. “Austin,” she said, “in light of the fact that your mother doesn’t want to go on camera, would you feel comfortable talking about Ivy?”

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “What do you want to say?”

  Austin shrugged. “That Ivy was a bitch but she shouldn’t be dead because of it.”

  “Yeah, let’s avoid that,” said Max. “Tell me something positive. A good memory with Ivy.”

  He shrugged again, didn’t answer.

  “Bella,” Tommy said. “Ivy loved playing dress up with Bella. Remember, she would put lip gloss on her and that pretty pink tutu and have her twirl and take a bow? Bella’s curls would bounce up and down. My little sister is so cute,” he said to Max. “And she has the best laugh.”

  “Bella was a doll to Ivy,” Austin said. “A toy.”

  “Was not,” Tommy said.

  “If you don’t want to go on camera,” Max said, “that’s okay. You don’t have to.”

  “I want to. I want the truth. I don’t like what’s happened to our family,” Austin said. “There’s this dark cloud over us and it’s never going away until we know what happened to Ivy. It’s like—it’s like we’re all just in a daze, stuck in the same place because of all these unanswered questions.”

  Max nodded. “That’s what you say.”

  Jenny said, “And what happens if Paula comes out with her ridiculous accusations? What if she turns people against us? I don’t care about my reputation, but Tommy is innocent. He shouldn’t have to go through any more trauma.”