And to top it off, he’d dreamed about the counselor last night. They’d been in his bedroom. There’d been a candle flickering and casting a soft glow on her pale skin. He’d reached for her shirt and slowly unfastened pearl buttons that trailed between her breasts. When he’d peeled back the silk he’d discovered a red push-up bra that made her breasts so sinfully beautiful he’d been unable to resist suckling them through the lace.
He shoved out a breath. The counselor had secrets, but it wasn’t naughty underwear. It was a big-ass skeleton in her closet that involved the Cross family.
The elevator in the hallway dinged, and he tensed, just knowing it was Carlson. Seconds later she appeared in the doorway. She carried her worn briefcase, but her hair was free around her shoulders, and she wore a soft blue turtleneck. Jeans hugged her hips, and black boots gave her an inch of height that brought them eye-to-eye.
“Looks like a party,” Angie said.
“And it seems you’re the guest of honor,” Malcolm said.
“Really?” She moved into the room and set down the briefcase on the conference table. She tossed a quick glance toward Eva, then lobbed it right back at him.
“Seems you’ve done a little digging, discovered a few gems, but chosen not to share.”
She leveled her gaze. “I’ve never been good at sharing, Detective. I guess I just don’t play well with others.”
“Maybe you’d better learn.”
Her eyes narrowed, and he suspected she was calculating all the pros and cons of working with the police. “You worked with us last year and helped us in a murder investigation.”
A former client of hers had asked her to broker a deal with the cops. He would trade info on a murder if he could walk on breaking-and-entering charges. She’d agreed to the deal but had been clear she’d do nothing to impede the murder investigation.
“I thought I was investigating a family matter,” she said. “I didn’t realize it had anything to do with the police.”
He folded his arms. “You dug up a juicy gem. I want to know what it is.”
“Why? I don’t see what the connection could possibly be between my family history and your current investigations.”
Garrison cleared his throat. “We had a ViCAP hit on Sierra Day’s case. A similar crime occurred almost thirty years ago. The woman who was murdered, Fay Willow, worked for your father, and we suspect was also having an affair with Darius Cross.”
The look of shock on her face gave Malcolm a moment of satisfaction. Nice to know she could be thrown off balance. But she was too practiced and careful to reveal too much emotion. He’d have bet she was one hell of a poker player. “Okay.”
He felt a muscle tighten in the back of his neck. “I can appreciate that you did not know this when you discovered your family connection to the Cross family. But now that Garrison has told it to you, it would be nice if you shared.”
“I haven’t made sense of what I have found, so I really don’t want to discuss it.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the conference table. “What connection did you discover between your father and the Cross family?”
“Like I said, I’ve not fully analyzed it. And, to make my position clear, Wellington and James now represents Micah Cross. So for me to discuss anything related to him with the police would not be appropriate.”
“You’ve taken Micah Cross on as a client?” Disgust bled through each word.
She raised her chin. “Not me personally but the firm. We’re representing his charitable foundation.”
Garrison glanced at Eva. “Did you know about this?”
“Yes. She told me before she accepted him as a client.” Eva cleared her throat. “I have no ethical bounds in this matter.”
Angie shrugged but didn’t look upset or ready to silence her sister. “No, you do not.”
“So I can tell them what you told me?”
Angie shrugged.
“My father, Blue, worked for the Talbot Museum as the security director. Angie’s dad was the museum director. Shortly after my father arrived at the museum, he began an affair with my mother. As you know, that affair ruined the Carlsons’ marriage.”
“Counselor, can you tell us what your father did during his time at the museum? I mean, I doubt that would raise any conflicts of interests,” Malcolm said.
Angie absently traced the FCT initials on her briefcase. “He was the director. Administrative, membership, ticket sales, exhibits. He was the museum.”
“What kind of exhibits?”
“The Talbot Museum wasn’t large, or widely known beyond academic circles. It was dedicated to the Talbot family. My grandfather served with the senior Mr. Talbot in World War II. I’m not sure of the details, but after the war my grandfather went to work for the family. The Talbot family was wealthy and had ties that went back in this country a couple hundred years. Long story short, the family decided to set up its own museum. My grandfather was put in charge. And when he died my father took over.”
“What did the museum display?”
“Memorabilia and souvenirs from the family’s extensive trips to Africa and Russia. As I said, the family has a long history so the collection was quite extensive.”
“What kind of memorabilia?”
“Portraits. Clothes. Furniture. Muskets. You name it. Whatever was collected was processed and displayed by my father and grandfather.”
Eva cleared her throat. “Darius Cross made a large donation to the Talbot. I argued that Darius never did anything without good reason.”
Malcolm frowned. “If this old family was so rich, why did Cross make a donation?”
Angie folded her arms. “Every pot has its bottom. The younger Talbot generation wasn’t so wise when it came to money. A lot was lost in the stock market. They cut way back on museum funding. My father, out of loyalty to the family, tried to keep the museum alive and healthy.”
Garrison grunted. “It would have appealed to Darius to ‘save’ a rich old family. It would have made him feel superior.”
Eva nodded. “Darius would have expected a favor in return for the donation.”
Angie frowned. “Dad wouldn’t have done anything illegal.”
Eva shook her head. “Darius made good people do awful things. I’ve seen pictures of the Talbot’s collection. Your father displayed animal skeletons.”
Angie’s lips flattened. “Look, if you’re saying that Dad had something to do with this Fay Willow’s death, you are way off base.”
“Maybe not her death,” Malcolm said. “But maybe Darius needed help disposing of her body. Your father must have understood how bones were stripped if he managed animal bone collections.”
“That’s one hell of a leap,” Angie said.
“Not when you consider the way the bodies were handled after death. The manner is almost identical.”
“And you think the guy that killed Fay killed Sierra?”
“I don’t know,” Malcolm said. “But I’ve got a correlation, and I can’t ignore it.” She didn’t speak, her mind clearly trying to regroup. An attack on her father was the last thing she’d expected today.
He eased up his tone, knowing he’d get more from her if she wasn’t so defensive. “According to Fay’s roommate, Fay had been having an affair with Darius Cross. I’m willing to bet that old Darius never intended to marry her, and t
hat when she got a little out of hand, he killed her.”
Garrison nodded. “Reasonable to assume that he turned to Frank Carlson, called in a favor, and asked him to help dispose of the body.”
“No,” Angie said. “No.”
“Darius was a bit like the mob, Angie. You know that,” Eva said quietly. “Darius would think nothing of calling in a favor from your father.”
Angie’s fingers furled and unfurled as if grasping for a lifeline. “I can’t believe my father would be involved in a murder cover-up. He was a gentle man. Flawed, sure. But he’d never hurt anybody.”
Eva looked at her. “You remember how Darius was. He forced me to plead guilty. I lost ten years of my life because of him.”
Angie seemed to be the type that turned to logic when emotions got out of hand. “Eva, Darius has been dead two years. He wasn’t around to kill Sierra.”
“His son was,” Malcolm said.
Angie raised her hands. “Stop right there. I am not having this kind of discussion with you regarding my client.”
“Apple might not fall far from that very rotten tree,” Malcolm said.
Angie leveled her gaze on Malcolm. “If your apple theory holds true, Detective, then Eva and I are just as guilty as our fathers. Are you saying we are guilty?”
He leaned toward her, lowering his voice a notch. “Don’t play word games with me, Counselor.”
Color warmed her cheeks. “I will not let you crucify my father when he’s not here to defend himself.”
“Right now your father’s reputation means nothing to me. Nothing. I have a killer to catch. And if you find out something that can help me with this case, and you keep it from me, I promise I will make your life a living hell.”
She snatched up her briefcase. “Legally, you can’t compel me to say anything, Detective. And I don’t scare easy. Take your best shot.”
Some of the fire left his belly. “I’m not trying to win a debate, Counselor. I’m trying to solve a murder, maybe two or three. If you can help, you should.”
“I won’t let you ruin my father’s memory.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to catch this killer.”
“And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my father.”