In the Clearing by Robert Dugoni

wait until all the evidence is gathered to charge someone.”
    “But you indicated she came in and reconfirmed what happened.”
    “She did,” Kins said. “But we have reason to doubt she’s telling us the truth.”
    Collins exhaled, clearly exasperated. “It wouldn’t be the first time she’s lied. Far from it.”
    “Sometimes these things take time, Mr. Collins,” Tracy said, “but in the end, the system usually delivers justice.”
    Mark Collins looked somber. “Maybe so, Detectives, but the judicial system doesn’t ordinarily deal with the likes of Angela.”

CHAPTER 9
    K ins dropped Tracy back at the Justice Center, telling her he had an appointment to talk with his son Eric’s high school counselor. Tracy set her purse in her cubicle, scanned the documents Mark Collins had provided, then e-mailed them to Cerrabone with a note for him to call her.
    She’d no sooner hit “Send” when Faz materialized. “You have lunch plans?” he asked.
    “No,” she said, sensing that he was interested in cashing in on his free lunch. “What did you have in mind, Faz?”
    “I took the liberty of booking us a reservation at Tulio,” he said. “Best clams in the city.”
    “Very considerate of you. My Visa card thanks you. It has cobwebs on it, but I can use the air miles.”
    “Wait till you get the bill,” Del said, pushing back his chair. “You’ll have enough miles for a trip to Europe.”
    Tulio was within walking distance, north on Fifth Avenue. The nice weather was holding, midfifties with clear skies. As they walked, Tracy filled Faz in on the interview with Mark Collins.
    “So what did you think?” Faz asked.
    “I think he sounded like someone trying to protect his brother. I’ve never bought the ‘she threw herself down a staircase’ theory.”
    Faz held the door for her, and they stepped inside. The dining area consisted of half a dozen tables draped with white cloths, and booths along the walls. The kitchen was at the back, and diners could watch the two chefs at work.
    “I can taste the clams already,” Faz said.
    “While you salivate, I’m going to wash my hands.” Tracy spotted the sign for the restrooms and started for the back of the restaurant.
    Halfway there, she thought she heard a familiar voice and glanced to her left, into the dining area. Kins sat in a booth near a window, leaning forward, engaged in conversation. Opposite him sat Amanda Santos, the FBI profiler who’d worked the Cowboy investigation, and a dead ringer for Halle Berry.

    Del was waiting when Tracy and Faz returned. “All right, Fazio, get it over with. Tell me how the clams were the best you’ve ever had.”
    “Garlic and onions, a little salt and pepper.” Faz kissed his fingers and let them bloom. “Magnifico.”
    It was a worthy performance. Maybe Faz could have been in the movies. He didn’t have the clams. They didn’t eat at Tulio. Tracy had done a one-eighty when she’d spotted Kins and returned quickly to the front of the restaurant. She’d had no idea what excuse she’d use to convince Faz they had to leave, so she was glad when she didn’t need one.
    “I saw him,” Faz had said, already opening the door for her and stepping outside. “I figured something was up. I’ve heard him on the phone a couple times keeping his voice low. Then the suit. Who wears a suit anymore if you don’t have to?”
    “I knew things weren’t great at home,” Tracy said, now wondering if Santos was the reason she’d beaten Kins to the Collins crime scene. “But he said he and Shannah were working things through.”
    “Hey, we don’t know he’s done anything.”
    “No,” she said. “But he lied and said he was meeting his son’s high school counselor.”
    “Not our place to judge,” Faz said. “Nobody knows what goes on between a man and a woman in the privacy of their own home.”
    “Agreed, but I’m not his wife. I’m his partner.”
    When Tracy made Homicide, her first partner quit, not