For Just Cause. Kara LennoxЧитать онлайн книгу.
A ROAD TRIP WITH A BEAUTIFUL blonde sounded like heaven to Billy Cantu—unless the blonde spent four hours straight studying him like a particularly fascinating species of toe fungus.
“I know I’m good-lookin’,” Billy finally said, “but do you think you could stop staring at me for five minutes?”
“Oh. Sorry.” Claudia turned to look out the windshield at the parched midsummer fields. “It’s an occupational habit.”
“It’s also kinda rude. I mean, when women stare at me, I want to at least pretend it’s because they’re trying to get inside my pants—not my brain.”
“I don’t want to be either place, thanks,” she said tartly, and Billy grinned. A quick glance told him she was blushing.
“You’ve been awful quiet,” Billy said. “How about you give me some more background on this woman we’re going to see? I read the court transcript, but you must know stuff that’s not public.”
Claudia had a transcript in her lap, but she’d spent more time covertly studying Billy than looking at her notes. Maybe she’d thought he wouldn’t notice, but he had excellent peripheral vision.
This interview was a waste of time. But Daniel wanted him to check it out, so here he was. Daniel had built Project Justice from the ground up and continued to choose which cases they took on. Apparently he trusted Claudia’s opinion that Mary-Francis was innocent. Or he at least didn’t want to offend her.
Billy preferred to work behind the scenes, supporting the other investigators. But lately Daniel had been pushing him out the door more and more.
“Mary-Francis isn’t the most likable woman I’ve ever met,” Claudia said. “She never should have taken the stand in her own defense.”
“I’ll say. The cross-examination was a bloodbath.”
“And yet…I still believe she’s telling the truth. Not about everything, maybe—but about not killing her husband, yes.”
“Obviously, or you wouldn’t have brought the case to Project Justice.” As a psychologist on retainer with the foundation, she didn’t normally bring in cases. She interviewed witnesses or analyzed interrogation or trial video. She was a nationally recognized expert on body language.
Which, if anyone asked Billy, was all a bunch of hooey.
Since nobody asked, he listened politely as she went through her notes. “Anytime she was questioned whether she knew where her husband was, or whether she’d killed him, or if she knew someone else had killed him, her body and face indicated her answers were truthful. If she were lying, her body would show more stress. But her shoulders were relaxed, her eyes wide and animated, her voice confident. However, she wasn’t always truthful. She lied about some things.”
“Like what?”
“Like her marriage. She tried to pretend everything was fine, that she and her husband were deeply in love. But any time that subject came up, she would pull her head in like a turtle and hide her hands in her lap. In fact, whenever anyone raised their voice or tried to intimidate her, she showed the classic body language of an abuse victim.”
A squirrel darted out into the road. Billy swerved to miss it.
Claudia squeaked and grabbed on to the door. “God, Billy! What the hell are you doing?”
“Trying not to hit a squirrel.”
“Oh. That shows great compassion. But I’d prefer one dead squirrel to a head-on with a semi.”
“It was a reflex.” He didn’t like her assigning a motive to his actions. Great compassion. For a squirrel? Really? But he had a lot of hours to spend with her, and he didn’t want to spend them arguing.
“So,” he continued, “you’re telling me someone does an imitation of a turtle, they’re lying?”
Claudia released the door handle and seemed to gather her composure around her. “That was one of many signs that she felt threatened when certain subjects were broached. Each person is different, though. I have to observe a subject for some length of time to get a baseline of their usual body language, then note when that changes—”
“Yeah, okay.”
“You don’t believe me?”
He shrugged, unwilling to tell her what he really thought about hocus-pocus disguised as science. He much preferred the old-fashioned method of catching someone in a lie—breaking them down with tough interrogation.
“What I do is legitimate science, backed up by scores of studies—”
“Really, you don’t have to convince me. It’s not essential for me to understand your work to do my job, is it?”
“Well, no.”
“You just want me to interrogate Mary-Francis so she’ll tell us about this supposed new evidence, and you’ll observe.”
“Interrogate is rather a strong word. I don’t want you to put too much pressure on her. It could completely shut her down or cause her to end the interview.”
“Hmm.” He had his own way of questioning a suspect, a way that usually worked, honed by his experience with the Dallas Police Department. He’d have to play it by ear. “Any idea what this evidence is?”
“Only that it’s something shocking. But whatever it is, I want you to evaluate it from a cop’s point of view.”
“That means I ask hard questions.”
“I know. Just don’t bully her, or her stressed-out body language will override everything else.”
“Got it.”
They lapsed into silence. Claudia shifted in her seat, crossed and uncrossed her legs. Billy couldn’t help looking at the bit of leg she revealed as her skirt slid up.
Damn, hard to keep your eyes on the road when something like that was sitting next to you.
“So you really don’t believe in what I do,” she finally said.
He grinned. “That really bugs you, huh?”
“Yes.”
“Why? You must be used to skepticism.”
“Usually not from people in my own camp. I thought Daniel only hired open-minded investigators.”
“You’re saying I have a closed mind?”
“I think you refuse to open your mind to something that goes against your deeply held beliefs. In my business we call that—”
“Stop right there. You are not allowed to analyze me. That’s not part of the deal.”
“You didn’t object to my analysis during your initial employment screening.”
“’Cause if I had, I wouldn’t have gotten the job. My head is just fine, thanks. It doesn’t need shrinking.”
“Fine.” The single word came out sharp and punchy as a quick right jab. But after a few moments of tense silence, she spoke again, sounding much more relaxed. “I apologize. Analyzing everybody I spend time with is automatic for me.”
That was something Billy understood. Even now, years after his undercover work, he still evaluated every person he met in terms of potential threat. He still sat with his back to a wall. And he still kept a spare gun inside his boot.
Back in the day, he hadn’t been completely safe anywhere, not even behind locked doors. Ingratiating himself with one party of drug dealers made him a target for the other. He’d had a price on his head when Sheila was killed. His superiors had agreed that relocation to a different city, where his face wasn’t known, was the best course of action.
The Houston P.D. would