Stalker (9780307823557) Read Online Free Page A

and she added, “That was sneaky of y’all to follow me.”
    “We’re not holding you,” he said. He tilted back hischrome and red-plastic chair and stretched, hands clasped behind his head. “Why don’t you just go home and cool off?”
    “I want to see Bobbie.”
    “Can’t do that. She’ll be arraigned—”
    “What does that mean?”
    “It means after she’s interrogated here she’ll be taken before the municipal court judge, charged with the crime, and then she’ll be taken over to the county jail where she’ll get charged, booked, fingerprinted all over again.”
    Jennifer shuddered. “You can’t do that! Someone else killed Stella, not Bobbie!”
    “Who?”
    “I—I don’t know.” She leaned toward him. “You’re the police. That’s what you’re supposed to find out!”
    “We go by the book,” he said. “We get evidence. We collect facts. They add up. They give us the answer.”
    “What facts? Just because Bobbie and her mother had an argument?”
    “There’s something called—well, I’ll put it so you can understand it. When it’s obvious that only one person has been with the murder victim, and there is nothing to suggest that anyone else has entered the scene through force or consent, then it’s a pretty sure thing that the person who was on hand is the one who committed the murder.”
    “How do you know no one else was there?”
    “Calm down,” he said. “If you were a policeman you’d know that most murders happen between family members or friends. This was one of the easy ones.”
    “Bobbie isn’t the kind of person who kills someone.”
    “You’d be surprised at some of the so-called nice people who suddenly lose control. Anyone can kill.”
    “I don’t believe that.”
    He shrugged. “She’ll be assigned a public defender,and within a hundred and twenty days she’ll get a fair trial. The jury will decide if she’s guilty or not. Does that satisfy you?”
    “But there has to be something else you could do to find out the truth!”
    “There’s no point in wasting man-hours on a case that’s as obvious as this one. We’ve got other evidence.”
    “That stupid scarf. It’s the only so-called evidence you’ve got, isn’t it?”
    He ignored her question, hefting himself from the chair. “Come on. I’ll check you out of here.”
    He walked out of the interrogation room into the central room of the homicide department, Jennifer edging around the table to follow him.
    “If you won’t do anything to find who the real murderer is, then I will!” She spoke so loudly that a few people turned to stare at her. Her face tingled, and she repeated quietly, “I will.”
    One corner of his mouth turned up in a smile. “I don’t think you’d get very far. Unless you’ve got a license as a private investigator and just haven’t mentioned it.”
    “What would a private investigator do?”
    He stopped abruptly, joining a cluster of men at one of the desks. He clapped a tall, gray-haired man on the shoulder. “Lucas! How’re things going?”
    The man was sitting-leaning against the edge of the desk as straight and thin as a hoe handle. He smiled easily. “Got to keep in touch,” he said. “Someone’s got to see if you boys are doing what you’re supposed to do. Right?”
    “Right! Good to see you around.” The detective headed toward the hallway with long strides, and Jennifer hurried to catch up. “Lucas Maldonaldo,” he said. “Retired a few months ago, and can’t stay away. One ofthe best investigative officers ever. We all learned a lot from Lucas.”
    “Please—I asked you a question,” Jennifer said. “I asked you what a private investigator would do to help Bobbie.”
    “Well,” he said, “a P.I. would check into the scene, talk to your friend, to witnesses, and so on. He’d do about what we’ve already done.”
    “But he might learn something else.”
    “It’s happened. That’s one way they earn their keep.” They reached a desk.