Flawless by Heather Graham

who might be charged,” she said. “And usually the situation is sad. I think I told you—I talked with a couple suspected of killing their baby, but the expert physician who was brought in agreed that the child simply stopped breathing. Crib death. Not smothered, poisoned, ignored... I write a lot of reports,” she added. “Interview witnesses. It’s amazing how people can be in the same place at the same time and see completely different things.”
    â€œBecause everything is perception,” he said. “Everything we see is filtered through the way we perceive it.”
    â€œAnd here I liked to think I went to school for something useful,” she said.
    He laughed. “I didn’t mean to suggest that you didn’t. Your help with the crime-scene footage was pretty amazing—you saw a lot that I didn’t. But that more or less proves my point.”
    â€œWill their attorneys be present?” she asked.
    â€œNo, oddly enough, I think they actually want to talk. They seem to want to convince us that they might be thieves, but they’re not murderers.”
    They arrived, headed through security and then went on to the building where the suspects were being held.
    They went through another security check, where Craig turned over his gun. He seemed to know the guard who escorted them to the room where a man in jail coveralls was handcuffed to a table, waiting for them to arrive.
    Kieran realized that it was the driver, Mark O’Malley. He looked at Craig Frasier with deep distrust and eyed her suspiciously, as well. She was still surprised that he hadn’t asked that his attorney be present, then realized that while he might want to prove his point, he might not be at all certain that he really trusted them, so he would prefer to keep things somewhat off the record.
    â€œAh, so it’s Black Widow and the Hulk,” he muttered, looking away and shaking his head. He hesitated and then said in a hurt tone, “You were there. You know we didn’t stash any real guns anywhere. You know that! They want our blood. Yes, we robbed people, but we never killed anyone.”
    There was a seat opposite O’Malley, and Craig Frasier indicated that she should take it. He remained standing, then took a step back.
    â€œWhat?” O’Malley asked him. “You’re antisocial?”
    â€œI’m just here to watch out for Miss Finnegan. She’s here to listen.”
    â€œ Miss Finnegan?” O’Malley stared at Kieran. “You’re not with the Feds?”
    She shook her head, studying O’Malley in return. He was young—late twenties to early thirties. He wasn’t a bad-looking man. He had the air, though, of one who had come from nothing, who had scratched his way up since birth and dreamed of something better. Blue-eyed, blond-haired...in another world he could have been a California beach bum.
    â€œYou weren’t a plant in the jewelry store?” O’Malley asked her.
    She shook her head again.
    He started to laugh. “Well, hell. Done in by a girl shopping for diamonds!”
    Except she hadn’t been a girl who’d wanted a diamond; she’d been trying to get rid of one.
    â€œI’m a psychologist,” she said.
    â€œA shrink, huh?” O’Malley asked.
    â€œPsychiatrists are shrinks,” she said. “I’m more like someone you...someone you talk to.”
    That brought a pained smile to his lips. “Yeah? Could have used you a few years ago. Not much to talk about now, is there? My family has pretty much disowned me, and I have a baby for a lawyer who wants me to confess to what I didn’t do... A little late for talking, I guess.”
    â€œNot at all. If you really didn’t kill anyone, then you shouldn’t confess to it,” Kieran told him.
    â€œYou know what we were carrying,” he said. “But some district attorney wants to charge us with