Sense of Evil - Kay Hooper [11]
“She liked tea instead of coffee, and took it with milk. You always thought that was odd.”
Caleb turned back, staring at the agent.
“She always felt she had disappointed her father by not becoming a lawyer, so being a paralegal was a compromise. It gave her more time for her art. She had asked you to pose for her, but you kept putting her off. And about six months ago, you offered her a shoulder to cry on when her relationship with her boyfriend ended badly. You were working late at the office when she broke down, and afterward you drove her home. She fell asleep on the couch. You covered her with an afghan and left.”
Slowly, he said, “None of that was in the police report.”
“No. It wasn't.”
“Then how the hell do you know?”
“I just do.”
“How?” he demanded.
Instead of replying to that, Hollis said, “I saw some of her work. Tricia's. She was talented. She might have become very well known if she'd lived.”
“Something else you just know?”
“My partner and I got into town last night. We've checked out a few things. Tricia's apartment, for one. Nice place. Really good studio. And some of the paintings she'd finished were there. I . . . used to be an artist myself, so I know quality work when I see it. She did quality work.”
“And you read her diary.”
“She didn't keep one. Most of the artists I know don't. Something about images as opposed to words, I guess.”
“Are you going to tell me how you know what you know?”
“I thought you didn't want to talk to me, Mr. Powell.”
His mouth tightened. “What I think is that alienating me is not at all a good idea, Agent Templeton.”
“It's a risk,” she admitted, not noticeably disturbed by that. “But one I'm willing to take if I have to. You're smart, Mr. Powell. You're very, very smart. Too smart to play dumb games. And at the end of the day I'd really rather not have you as an enemy, never mind the fact that you know all the legal angles and could keep us at arm's length for a long time.”
“You think I'd do that? Potentially put other lives in danger by withholding information?”
“You tell me.”
After a moment, Caleb crossed the few feet separating them and sat down in the second chair at her table. “No. I wouldn't. And not only because I'm an officer of the court. But I don't know anything that could help you find this killer.”
“How can you be so sure of that? You don't even know what questions we want to ask you.” She shook her head slightly. “You aren't a suspect. According to Chief Sullivan's report, you have a verifiable alibi for the twenty-four hours surrounding Tricia Kane's murder.”
“What the thrillers like to call a cast-iron alibi. I spent the weekend in New Orleans for a family wedding and didn't fly back here until Monday afternoon. I got the news about Tricia when Rafe called me at my hotel around noon.”
“And a companion places you in your hotel room from just before midnight until after eight that morning,” Hollis said matter-of-factly. “She's positive you never left the room.”
Without at all planning to, Caleb heard himself say, “A former girlfriend.”
“Former?” Her voice was wry.
A bit defensive despite himself, he said, “We also happen to be old friends, what my father used to call scratch-and-sniff buddies. We see each other, we end up in bed. Happens about twice a year, since she lives in New Orleans. Where we both grew up, and where she practices law, which makes her highly unlikely to perjure herself. Any other nuggets you want to mine from my personal life, Agent Templeton?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Too kind.”
She didn't react to his sarcasm except with another of those little smiles as she said, “About Tricia Kane. Do you think her ex-boyfriend might have wanted to hurt her?”
“I doubt it. She never said he was violent or in any way abusive, and I never saw any signs of it. Besides, unless he slipped back into town in the last three weeks, he's out of the picture. They broke up because he thought his pretty face could earn him screen time in Hollywood and he didn't