Perfect Victim (Nadia Stafford 3.6)

Jack frowned and checked his watch. "Can you do it tomorrow?"

"I suggested that. She's in court all day. I know you made dinner reservations but honestly"--I waved at my three-tier tea tray--"I doubt I'll get another bite down before breakfast. I'll meet up with Angela for a drink, and if you can reschedule the reservation for tomorrow, that'd be great."

He nodded, expressionless, and I tried to catch his eye, but he was busy eating a scone, his gaze on the beach.

Jack wasn't the type to get annoyed over canceled plans. Hell, if I'd given him the option of when I met up with Angela, he'd have shrugged and said it was my choice, and I'd have driven myself crazy trying to get a preference out of him.

When I did catch his eye, he frowned, head tilting as if to ask what was wrong. His hand found my knee under the table and squeezed, and I realized that, once again, I'd been fretting over a problem that existed only in my imagination. Even after three years together, I couldn't quite accept that Jack was as happy as he seemed, and there was part of me constantly on alert for the first glimmer of trouble.

I smiled and laid my hand on his. "I can try to reschedule with Angela . . ."

"Course not. Get business done. You're right. Wouldn't eat anyway."

I tried not to exhale in relief. I wasn't unhappy with the chance to meet Angela tonight. Just like I wasn't unhappy with the chance to stay another day in Honolulu, and not just for the sun and sand.

The solution to this case bothered me. But questioning it made me uncomfortable. I felt like the new kid on the softball team, who hits a dumb-luck home run to win the game, and then thinks she has the skills to question the coach's strategy. Yes, I broke this case, but it was not through superior skills, and questioning Detective Lee and Howard Lang's theories felt like ego.

I'd talk to Angela. Settle my mind. And I'd get that over with tonight.

I sipped my tea and then looked at Cypher. "She'd like to see you. Angela, that is."

He shook his shaggy head.

"I'm not pushing you guys together," I said. "She really did ask. Repeatedly. Including just now."

I turned my phone over and showed him her text.

Angela: Please tell my anonymous benefactor that I'd like to thank him, too.

Me: I'll try. But don't hold your breath.

Angela: I'm not.

Cypher rubbed his mouth. "Can you convince her it's not me?"

"I've tried. She knows."

"Try again. Tell her she's made a mistake. Tell her . . ." He threw up his hands. "Make something up. You're good at that. Make up a story for her."

"Or, maybe, you could just come with me tonight."

He shook his head again. "I can't."

"Because . . ."

"It's complicated. Now drink your damned tea."

"Yes, sir."

I was supposed to meet Angela at nine after she finished work. I'd offered to come by the office, but she'd picked a bar on the beach, one much closer to my hotel. She'd meet me there.

I went to the bar early, staked out a patio table overlooking the tiki-torch-lit beach, and I tried to enjoy a pina colada. I didn't quite succeed. I was too busy thinking.

Yes, Victor Walling murdered Cherise Hale and Sara Atom. He had confessed to those crimes. But the earlier ones--Mindy Lang and Albert Kim--didn't make sense.

With both Cherise and Sara, Victor said he was only trying to spook people, and the evidence supported that. But Mindy and Judge Kim had clearly been murdered, and Victor had no reason to kill them. While Judge Kim had overseen an earlier motion in the Walling custody case, he'd actually reprimanded Sheila, not Victor. And Mindy had been the cause of that reprimand . . . in Victor's favor.

The time span between "suspecting Victor" and "catching Victor" had been too short for me to pull back earlier and consider whether he worked as a suspect in all four deaths. He fit the last two, and so we'd figure out the rest later. But now no one seemed to be questioning him as the sole perpetrator. Which made me feel like that overconfident home run player questioning the pros. I didn't have the full case files. I'd barely done any investigative work. There must be aspects of the case that I just didn't know about.