sixteen-year-old stepson of the victim that died in the fire. I think he’s innocent but the arson investigation doesn’t support that.”
She leaned forward on the desk. “Really? Well, now you have my attention.”
Stanton unlocked his iPad and pulled up some photos. He lost them when he accidently closed the window and then opened it again and handed it to her. “Sorry, just getting used to this thing. He died of smoke inhalation but you can see the body’s pretty damaged too. The arson investigator said there’s a lot of evidence indicating that the fire was set intentionally. If that’s true, I still don’t think the stepson did it but he was the only one around at the time. I’m afraid it might be pinned on him.”
“What’s the matter? You don’t trust a jury to acquit him?”
“No, absolutely not. Juries convict the innocent all the time.”
She handed back the iPad. “Well you’re the first cop I’ve ever heard say that.”
“I’m not a fool. Our system’s not perfect. But I could really use your help. We don’t have a lot of money but I can probably get you approved for our standard consultation fees.”
“I guess there’s no way I could turn down that offer and sleep at night if that kid gets life in prison. Okay, you got me on board, Detective. I have a space open this afternoon around four thirty and I’d like to go see the house.”
“So soon? It’s not going anywhere.”
“The sooner the better. Some of the evidence I’m looking for dissipates over time. I know you send police escorts but I would ask for no more than one person. I like to work in some solitude.”
“It’ll just be me. Should I come pick you up?”
“I can meet you there. If you would please just leave the address with my receptionist.”
He rose. “I really appreciate this, Emma.”
“If he’s really innocent, then it’s my pleasure. But I’ve gotten quite a few detectives in here over the years and they’re not always happy with what I find. Don’t be surprised if he’s not as innocent as you think.”
Stanton smiled and tapped the desk. “Thanks again. I’ll see you down there.”
CHAPTER 11
Sunlight was coming through the window in the kitchen and it lit up the room with a golden glow. Monique opened her eyes only slightly and could see the warm light cascading over her bare legs. As a child, she would sit in the kitchen and play with toys while her grandmother and aunt baked. The smell of pies and cookies was sometimes too much to bear and she would sneak some morsels when they weren’t paying attention.
The house was quiet. She could hear the creaking coming from the attic. She had always thought they had mice but never could find any evidence for it.
She moved her arms but they wouldn’t respond. Bringing her head down just enough to take a quick look, she could see that her wrists were tied with some sort of plastic wrap. Her ankles were tied as well but not as tightly. The last thing she remembered was the feeling of suffocation and she thought she was drowning before her head hit the carpet and everything went black. And there was something else too…laughter. She remembered the echoing laughter that had come from behind her.
A clink of glass behind her. She glanced back to her dining room. A man was sitting at the table. A linen napkin was tucked into his shirt. He was handsome and his head looked like it had recently been shaved. He cut into a steak with a fork and knife and then dabbed at his lips with the napkin before taking a sip of red wine.
He noticed her, and smiled.
“Headache?”
She opened her eyes fully, taking him in. Then she immediately looked away. He needed to know that she couldn’t identify him.
“Wha…what?” she said. She felt lightheaded, as if she were floating in space.
“I said , do you have a headache?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll get you some aspirin.” He finished his wine and rose, coming into the kitchen. He walked past her
She leaned forward on the desk. “Really? Well, now you have my attention.”
Stanton unlocked his iPad and pulled up some photos. He lost them when he accidently closed the window and then opened it again and handed it to her. “Sorry, just getting used to this thing. He died of smoke inhalation but you can see the body’s pretty damaged too. The arson investigator said there’s a lot of evidence indicating that the fire was set intentionally. If that’s true, I still don’t think the stepson did it but he was the only one around at the time. I’m afraid it might be pinned on him.”
“What’s the matter? You don’t trust a jury to acquit him?”
“No, absolutely not. Juries convict the innocent all the time.”
She handed back the iPad. “Well you’re the first cop I’ve ever heard say that.”
“I’m not a fool. Our system’s not perfect. But I could really use your help. We don’t have a lot of money but I can probably get you approved for our standard consultation fees.”
“I guess there’s no way I could turn down that offer and sleep at night if that kid gets life in prison. Okay, you got me on board, Detective. I have a space open this afternoon around four thirty and I’d like to go see the house.”
“So soon? It’s not going anywhere.”
“The sooner the better. Some of the evidence I’m looking for dissipates over time. I know you send police escorts but I would ask for no more than one person. I like to work in some solitude.”
“It’ll just be me. Should I come pick you up?”
“I can meet you there. If you would please just leave the address with my receptionist.”
He rose. “I really appreciate this, Emma.”
“If he’s really innocent, then it’s my pleasure. But I’ve gotten quite a few detectives in here over the years and they’re not always happy with what I find. Don’t be surprised if he’s not as innocent as you think.”
Stanton smiled and tapped the desk. “Thanks again. I’ll see you down there.”
CHAPTER 11
Sunlight was coming through the window in the kitchen and it lit up the room with a golden glow. Monique opened her eyes only slightly and could see the warm light cascading over her bare legs. As a child, she would sit in the kitchen and play with toys while her grandmother and aunt baked. The smell of pies and cookies was sometimes too much to bear and she would sneak some morsels when they weren’t paying attention.
The house was quiet. She could hear the creaking coming from the attic. She had always thought they had mice but never could find any evidence for it.
She moved her arms but they wouldn’t respond. Bringing her head down just enough to take a quick look, she could see that her wrists were tied with some sort of plastic wrap. Her ankles were tied as well but not as tightly. The last thing she remembered was the feeling of suffocation and she thought she was drowning before her head hit the carpet and everything went black. And there was something else too…laughter. She remembered the echoing laughter that had come from behind her.
A clink of glass behind her. She glanced back to her dining room. A man was sitting at the table. A linen napkin was tucked into his shirt. He was handsome and his head looked like it had recently been shaved. He cut into a steak with a fork and knife and then dabbed at his lips with the napkin before taking a sip of red wine.
He noticed her, and smiled.
“Headache?”
She opened her eyes fully, taking him in. Then she immediately looked away. He needed to know that she couldn’t identify him.
“Wha…what?” she said. She felt lightheaded, as if she were floating in space.
“I said , do you have a headache?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll get you some aspirin.” He finished his wine and rose, coming into the kitchen. He walked past her
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