I'm worried about what he could do," Val said.
He . Rob.
Arm collected her thoughts. "I already gave my statement to the prosecutor. I don't think there's anything he can do."
"I'm not worried about your testimony," Val said rather sharply. "I'm worried about you."
"Oh." Ann felt humbled and disconcerted as always by the proof of her friend's concern. "Well, he can't do anything about me, either. He's divorcing me. The court date's next Friday."
"Are you … okay with that?" Val asked delicately.
She had to be. She understood the blow her guilty plea had delivered to Rob's pride and reputation. After what she'd said about him, how could he not divorce her? "You know what Wednesday is, don't you?" she asked.
"Wednesday? We're closed. Fourth of July."
"Independence Day," Ann deadpanned.
After a heartbeat pause. Val laughed. "I guess you'll be fine."
"You bet," Ann said.
Sometimes, she even let herself believe it was true.
* * *
It took the state investigator listed in Rob's file four days to return Maddox's calls. Son of a bitch. Maddox hunched over the phone. This case was messy enough without some overworked State Bureau of Investigations desk jockey busting his chops.
"I've got the file in front of me," Maddox said, pushing the pages around on his desk. "I wanted an update on the physical evidence taken from the fire scene."
Detective Tyler Greene did not fall over himself answering his request. "Is this the part where you tell me this is your investigation and you know how to run it?"
Maddox leaned back in his chair. "No. This is the part where I tell you that up till now this has been somebody else's investigation and unless you help me out I'm totally screwed."
There was a short pause on the other end of the phone. A brief laugh. "I thought you said your name was Palmer."
"Maddox Palmer. The chiefs my old man."
"My condolences," Greene said.
"Is this sympathy going to get me somewhere, or do I have to tell you sad stories about my childhood?"
"Spare me." But the detective's voice had warmed about twenty degrees. "What do you need, Palmer?"
"I need to know if you have any indicators linking our suspect with the arson."
" You having trouble with your case? Or does the chief still think your suspect is just misunderstood?"
Resentment still tinged the detective's tone. His father must have really yanked his chain.
"Hey, we're like the guys on Dragnet," Maddox said easily. "We just want the facts."
"So, what have you got?"
Maddox pulled out one of the three cigarettes he'd put in his breast uniform pocket that morning and looked at it. He'd picked a hell of a time to cut down. "So far, all we can prove is aggravated assault. Both the victim and the ex-wife are willing to testify."
"What, he beat the wife, too?" Greene joked.
"As a matter of fact, be did ," Maddox said flatly. "But the defense will try to throw her story out on the grounds of relevancy. We've got motive and opportunity, but the victim was unconscious when Cross set the fire. So unless your lab can turn up evidence, we may not be able to make our case for attempted murder."
"What do you want? An engraved lighter?" the detective asked with heavy irony.
Maddox paused in the act of lighting his cigarette. "How about a matchbook?"
"Look, we've got several hundred pieces of evidence from that fire, and they're all being identified and tested. Maybe there was a matchbook. Maybe there wasn't. When we have something for you, I'll let you know."
"When?"
"Whenever the lab gets to it."
"It's been a year," Maddox said.
"Victimless arson. It doesn't have priority. You know that."
"A woman could have died in that fire."
"But she didn't."
"But the guy who set it is going up to trial in four weeks."
Greene sighed. "All right. I'll see what I can do. Holiday might slow things down, though. Lab's closed."
"That's okay. I've got a big day Wednesday myself."
"Writing traffic tickets?" the state agent ribbed.
"Worse than that," Maddox said
He . Rob.
Arm collected her thoughts. "I already gave my statement to the prosecutor. I don't think there's anything he can do."
"I'm not worried about your testimony," Val said rather sharply. "I'm worried about you."
"Oh." Ann felt humbled and disconcerted as always by the proof of her friend's concern. "Well, he can't do anything about me, either. He's divorcing me. The court date's next Friday."
"Are you … okay with that?" Val asked delicately.
She had to be. She understood the blow her guilty plea had delivered to Rob's pride and reputation. After what she'd said about him, how could he not divorce her? "You know what Wednesday is, don't you?" she asked.
"Wednesday? We're closed. Fourth of July."
"Independence Day," Ann deadpanned.
After a heartbeat pause. Val laughed. "I guess you'll be fine."
"You bet," Ann said.
Sometimes, she even let herself believe it was true.
* * *
It took the state investigator listed in Rob's file four days to return Maddox's calls. Son of a bitch. Maddox hunched over the phone. This case was messy enough without some overworked State Bureau of Investigations desk jockey busting his chops.
"I've got the file in front of me," Maddox said, pushing the pages around on his desk. "I wanted an update on the physical evidence taken from the fire scene."
Detective Tyler Greene did not fall over himself answering his request. "Is this the part where you tell me this is your investigation and you know how to run it?"
Maddox leaned back in his chair. "No. This is the part where I tell you that up till now this has been somebody else's investigation and unless you help me out I'm totally screwed."
There was a short pause on the other end of the phone. A brief laugh. "I thought you said your name was Palmer."
"Maddox Palmer. The chiefs my old man."
"My condolences," Greene said.
"Is this sympathy going to get me somewhere, or do I have to tell you sad stories about my childhood?"
"Spare me." But the detective's voice had warmed about twenty degrees. "What do you need, Palmer?"
"I need to know if you have any indicators linking our suspect with the arson."
" You having trouble with your case? Or does the chief still think your suspect is just misunderstood?"
Resentment still tinged the detective's tone. His father must have really yanked his chain.
"Hey, we're like the guys on Dragnet," Maddox said easily. "We just want the facts."
"So, what have you got?"
Maddox pulled out one of the three cigarettes he'd put in his breast uniform pocket that morning and looked at it. He'd picked a hell of a time to cut down. "So far, all we can prove is aggravated assault. Both the victim and the ex-wife are willing to testify."
"What, he beat the wife, too?" Greene joked.
"As a matter of fact, be did ," Maddox said flatly. "But the defense will try to throw her story out on the grounds of relevancy. We've got motive and opportunity, but the victim was unconscious when Cross set the fire. So unless your lab can turn up evidence, we may not be able to make our case for attempted murder."
"What do you want? An engraved lighter?" the detective asked with heavy irony.
Maddox paused in the act of lighting his cigarette. "How about a matchbook?"
"Look, we've got several hundred pieces of evidence from that fire, and they're all being identified and tested. Maybe there was a matchbook. Maybe there wasn't. When we have something for you, I'll let you know."
"When?"
"Whenever the lab gets to it."
"It's been a year," Maddox said.
"Victimless arson. It doesn't have priority. You know that."
"A woman could have died in that fire."
"But she didn't."
"But the guy who set it is going up to trial in four weeks."
Greene sighed. "All right. I'll see what I can do. Holiday might slow things down, though. Lab's closed."
"That's okay. I've got a big day Wednesday myself."
"Writing traffic tickets?" the state agent ribbed.
"Worse than that," Maddox said
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