Roadside Crosses (Kathryn Dance 2)

Wes got a perfect on the English test. He wore the gold star on his forehead until it fell off and had to buy some more. Mags decided to donate all her Hello Kitty stuff to charity--yes, all of it (yea!!!!)

Sad news from Mom. Willy, their cat, finally had to be put down. Kidney failure. Mom wouldn't hear of the vet doing it. She did it herself, an injection. She seemed happier afterward. She hates suffering, would rather lose an animal than see it suffer. She told me how hard it was to see Uncle Joe at the end, with the cancer. Nobody should have to go through that, she said. A shame there was no assisted suicide law.

Well, on a happier note: Got the website back online and Martine and I uploaded a dozen songs from that Native American group down in Ynez. Go online if you can. They're great!

Oh and went shopping at Victoria's Secret. Think you'll like what I got. I'll do some modeling!! Come home soon!

Her face burned--in shock and rage. "Where did you get this?" she snapped.

"A computer at your mother's house. Under a warrant."

Dance recalled. "It was my old computer. I gave it to her."

"It was in her possession. Within the scope of the warrant."

"You can't introduce that." She waved at the email printout.

"Why not?" He frowned.

"It's irrelevant." Her mind jumped around. "And it's a privileged communication between husband and wife."

"Of course it's relevant. It goes to your mother's state of mind in committing mercy killing. And as for the privilege: Since neither you nor your husband are subjects of the prosecution, any communications should be fully admissible. In any case, the judge will decide." He seemed surprised she hadn't realized this. "Is it yours?"

"You'll have to depose me before I respond to anything you ask."

"All right." He seemed only faintly disappointed at her failure to cooperate. "Now, I should tell you that I consider it a conflict of interest for you to be involved in this investigation, and using Special Agent Consuela Ramirez to do legwork for you doesn't vitiate that conflict."

How had he found that out?

"This case emphatically does not fall within the jurisdiction of the CBI and if you continue to pursue it, I'll lodge an ethics complaint against you with the attorney general's office."

"She's my mother."

"I'm sure you're emotional about the situation. But it's an active investigation and soon to be an active prosecution. Any interference from you is unacceptable."

Shaking with rage, Dance rose and started for the door.

Harper seemed to have an afterthought. "One thing, Agent Dance. Before I move to admit that email of yours into evidence, I want you to know that I'll redact the information about buying that lingerie, or whatever it was, at Victoria's Secret. That I do consider irrelevant."

Then the prosecutor slid toward him the document he'd been reviewing when she arrived, turned it over and began reading once again.

IN HER OFFICE Kathryn Dance was staring at the entwined tree trunks outside her window, still angry with Harper. She was thinking again about what would happen if she was forced to testify against her mother. If she didn't, she'd be held in contempt. A crime. It could mean jail and the end of her career as a law enforcer.

She was drawn from this thought by TJ's appearance

He looked exhausted. He explained he'd spent much of the night working with Crime Scene to examine Greg Schaeffer's room at the Cyprus Grove Inn, his car and Chilton's house. He had the MCSO report.

"Excellent, TJ." She regarded his bleary, red eyes. "You get any sleep?"

"What's that again, boss? 'Sleep'?"

"Ha."

He handed her the crime scene report. "And I finally got more four-one-one on our friend."

"Which one?"

"Hamilton Royce."