An Imperfect Process (12 page)

Instead, her world shattered in smashing doors and police accusations. Knowing he was innocent, she fought as hard as she knew how to see him free, but it was no use. The law wanted revenge, and Daniel was the sacrifice.

The first time she visited him after the sentencing, he told her flatly to think of him as dead and get on with her life. She must tell Jason when he was older that his daddy had died young in an accident... and how much Daniel had loved him.

She left the Pen with tears pouring down her face, her heart breaking even as she accepted that he was right. Getting on with her life hadn't been easy, of course. No money and a baby and a bad case of the blues. She found a state program that gave her support and child care along with job training to keep her from starving. She wrote Daniel now and then, and sent him pictures and drawings the boy made as he grew older.

Then she met Philip Brooks, fifteen years older, as steady as he was kind. He adored her and Jason, and she realized it was possible to love again. She told him about Daniel early on. A lesser man would have been jealous, but not Philip. He sympathized, and never objected to his wife keeping in touch with a man on death row.

With Daniel's permission, Philip adopted Jason so they all had the same name. She was proud of that—a real family, just like when she was small and her parents were alive. Philip never let her down, except when he went and died three years earlier.

After his death, Kendra began visiting Daniel in person. The first time, she was shocked to see a bald, scarred thug with massive shoulders and a scowl that could melt stone. She knew a man had to be tough to survive in prison, but this was a stranger. Then he had smiled, and she knew he was her Daniel still.

One of the guards said quietly, "Time's almost up, ma'am."

Kendra pulled herself out of her reverie. "Okay, Danny boy. I don't talk to Jason, and you cooperate with Val. Deal?"

"Deal." With a rattle of his shackles, he raised one large hand and pressed it on the plastic wall that separated them. She kissed the center of her palm, then laid her smaller hand against his. She could feel his warmth through the plastic, but not touching, never touching.

"Will you sing me a song?" he asked. "'Amazing Grace'?"

"If you like." This was their custom, and even the guards seemed to enjoy it. She closed her eyes and reached inside to the place where songs lived, then began to sing. The words were soft at first, but as the spirit moved her voice strengthened until it filled the small room with faith, hope, and solace. In song she could touch Daniel as she couldn't physically.

"...was lost, but now I'm found..."
After the last note faded, she opened her eyes. The guards were nodding solemnly and a glint of tears showed in Daniel's eyes.

Pretending not to see, she managed a last smile as she rose. Then she pivoted and walked from the room, head high, because she had promised herself she would never let him see her cry.

It was a promise she had kept. So far.

Chapter 8

After the picnic broke up, Val returned to her car, delighted at the way the afternoon had turned out. Anita had been enthusiastic about the matchup since Val and Lyssie both wanted it. Val winced a bit when she thought about where she would find the time to build a relationship with the girl, but she would manage. That's why she was changing her career direction, after all. To have a life.

Before driving away, she checked her cell phone, which had been off, and saw that she'd had a call. Rob's number. She punched it in, thinking she was on a roll today. When he answered, she said, "Hi, Rob, it's Val. What's up?"

"I've finished going through Monroe's files and wanted to set up a time to get together with you for that strategy session."

Her good mood dimmed as she thought about her schedule for the coming week. No way could she fit in a long meeting with Rob. But it couldn't wait. "It will have to be this evening. Can you make it on such short notice? If so, come for supper so we can make use of every minute."

"That would be nice, but you don't have to cook. I can pick up some carryout."

"No need. Are you vegetarian, vegan, low-fat, low salt, low carb, lactose intolerant, have food allergies, or any other special dietary requirements?"

"I eat anything." He chuckled. "It sounds like you feed a lot of people."

"As many as possible. I have plenty of recipes that can be done quickly, and a sizable freezer. How about six o'clock?"

After he agreed and signed off, she thought about dinner. Nothing too elaborate—this wasn't a date, after all. But she had her share of domestic pride. She would pick up some fish and serve it with a packaged rice pilaf and a salad. As she drove home, she admitted to herself that it was pretty primitive to want to impress the man with her cooking ability. Their relationship was business.

But she hoped he liked a nice piece of grilled tuna.

* * *

Dinner turned out well, if she did say so herself. Rob arrived bearing a bottle of excellent chardonnay, then ate like a man who didn't get much home cooking. He finished the meal with a happy sigh. "I've decided that you must not sleep, which is why you get so much done."

She laughed as she cleared the table. "That's kinder than saying I'm hyperactive, which I've been accused of. Do you want coffee while we go over the case?"

"Please."

By the time she returned with the coffeepot, he was spreading folders and notes across the dining room table. "Here's the list of people I plan to interview," he said. "Obviously, the three eyewitnesses whose identification convicted Monroe are the most important. It would be great if they're having second thoughts about their identification."

She scanned the list, nodding. "Darrell Long isn't going to be possible. Though it's not in the file, I understand that he died in a shooting almost ten years ago. Armed robbery, I think."

Rob came alert. "Armed robbery? In the transcript, he and Cady were both described as clean-living community college students and church members. I suppose Long might have taken a turn for the worse in the years after his testimony convicted Monroe, but it could be useful if he was less reliable than the jury was told."

"If we could prove that Long and Cady were lying about being so wholesome, it might persuade the governor that there's sufficient doubt to commute Daniel's sentence to life imprisonment," she agreed. "I don't think we'll get far with Brenda Harris—she's the woman whose assault led to the murder. You probably noticed that at first she was uncertain that Daniel was her attacker, but once she made up her mind, her opinion was cast in concrete. She wouldn't budge on the witness stand."

"I want to find out what the lighting conditions were like where the assault took place. By her own account, the attack and shooting were so quick that she might not have had a clear look at her attacker." Rob frowned, his thick brows drawing together. "You've probably thought of this, but it seems to me that a major angle hasn't been explored. If Monroe is innocent, who
did
kill Officer Malloy?"

Val felt the tingle across the back of her neck that came with an important idea. "I hadn't thought much about that, but you're right. A man who would attack a woman and have a gun ready to shoot was no innocent. He might be sitting in a cell now himself. But how would you locate such a suspect after all these years?"

"If the real shooter is as large as Monroe, that would narrow it down, but it will still require a lot of looking. I'll start by talking to some of the city detectives from that period to see if they remember any street dudes who fit that description. I also want to go through the complete file, not just the highlights version." He gestured to the stack of papers Val had given him. "Maybe something buried in the complete file will be of use. Maybe there are people who lived in the neighborhood who might have something to say."

"All good ideas, but will you have time when you have a business to run?"

Rob gave a faint, humorless smile. "I'll find the time."

Once again, she felt the power of his personal interest in saving Daniel Monroe. She almost asked why, but decided not to pry. Better to wait and hope that he would tell her voluntarily. "Shall we go down the fist of witnesses and outline the questions we want answered?"

"Okay." He pulled out a lined tablet for note-taking. "When I know what to ask, I need to talk to Monroe again. He might have some ideas how to proceed. I need to talk to Kendra Brooks, too. Maybe she had neighbors who could verify that Monroe never left the apartment."

"It's pitiful how little investigation was done at the time. Since the police thought they had their man, they sure didn't put any time into looking further." She smiled wryly. "On the plus side, we've got lots of things to look at because so little was done."

"You're really reaching for a silver lining there. But maybe you're right and we'll find the rabbit in the haystack."

"A metaphor mixer. But in this case, that's better than talking about smoking guns." Getting serious, Val pulled out her yellow-lined tablet. Despite all the high-tech devices available, at this point in a case she wanted a tablet and a blue felt-tipped pen so she could develop her thoughts on paper.

For over four hours, they discussed the case intensively, analyzing the information they had and brainstorming possible areas of investigation. She also explained the legal options. Maryland was a fairly liberal state that performed few executions, but the governor wouldn't intervene in a case unless there were really solid reasons to believe that they risked killing an innocent man. Especially not in an election year. They would have to find extremely compelling evidence.

Rob was a natural problem solver with a pragmatic approach to running down possible leads. Val found it stimulating to bounce ideas back and forth with him. Damned sexy, in fact. She had always had a weakness for smart men.

She realized she was losing concentration when she found herself admiring the way light glinted from his dark blond hair. And such beautiful strong hands...

Smothering a yawn, she said, "Time to call it a night. I think we've done as much as we can for now. The next step is old- fashioned digging for information."

"Sifting tons of sand in the hopes of finding a nugget." He squared his files, then packed them in a battered canvas tote bag. "I may be a little rusty, but the Marines taught me well. I already have leads on some of the people I want to interview. It's a start."

As she stood to escort him to the door, she said, "You've done more than military police and carpentry, haven't you?"

She expected him to avoid the question, but after a hesitation, he said, "I used the Marine educational benefits to learn something about computers and worked in the field for a while." He got to his feet and slung the tote bag over one shoulder.

"Would you care to add computer troubleshooting to your other work?" Val asked hopefully. "A lot of our work is done on computers, and when the system goes down, we get hysterical."

"If that happens, I'll take a crack at solving them, but no guarantees. These days the hardware and software combinations are so complex that no one fully understands them."

"That's what I'm afraid of," she muttered.

They drifted to the door, the cats coming awake and ambling after them. Damocles liked Rob, which wasn't unusual since Damocles liked everyone, but Lilith did also, and she was usually shy with strangers.

Rob took hold of the doorknob, then paused, his strikingly light eyes focused on Val's face. She came to full alert as the atmosphere changed.

"This isn't the right time or place," he said haltingly. "There might never be a right time or place. Yet I keep thinking about a... non-business relationship with you."

So she hadn't imagined that tug of awareness and attraction between them. But it was clear that Rob wasn't about to jump her bones. In a complicated situation, he was simply letting her know he was interested. Any negative reaction on her part and he would drop the subject, perhaps forever.

What did she want? The reasons for keeping her distance were legion. He was her landlord, they were working together on a critical case, and she knew very little about him. Plus, her track record in choosing men was not great.

Weighing against that was her attraction, and her loneliness. It had been too long since she had met a man who intrigued her so much. She would be a fool to throw this possibility away.