Murder Season by Robert Ellis Page A

looked out the window and saw an abandoned building just this side of the Hollywood Freeway.
    “At least the DA gave you an office with a window,” she said.
    “Yeah. Higgins gave me a window.”
    She saw a picture on the sill of Vaughan playing with a young boy and girl, about three and four years old.
    “I didn’t know you had kids,” she said. “I didn’t even know you were married. You’re not wearing a ring.”
    “Divorced,” he said. “Irreconcilable differences, meaning that I work too much. We’ve stayed friends, and she’s met someone who works nine to five and seems like a good guy. The kids love him. I told her I could change, but her attorney came by one day and got a look at my office.”
    He grinned at her, then settled into his desk chair and watched her sit down. A moment passed with Vaughan gently probing her face with his eyes.
    “You didn’t come here to tell me you couldn’t find Hight’s gun,” he said finally. “I don’t know you very well, Lena. But you don’t strike me as someone who would waste that kind of time.”
    She leaned forward, thinking it through as she spoke. “What if Bennett and Watson screwed up?” she said.
    Vaughan shrugged. “They lost a slam-dunk case. Of course they screwed up.”
    “But what if it wasn’t a slam-dunk case? What if it only looked like one? What if Bennett and Watson really fucked up?”
    “They’re corporate types,” he said. “All they see is the finish line and what they’re gonna get out of it.”
    Lena nodded. “Exactly. So what if it started from the beginning? What if they got lost in the details and the headlines? What if Jacob Gant didn’t murder Lily Hight and they tried the wrong man?”
    It hung there. And for several moments, it looked like Vaughan had taken a punch. He pushed aside his coffee and leaned back in his chair, rubbing a finger across his forehead as he considered her question.
    “If you’re asking me if Bennett and Watson are capable of running the worst investigation and trial in the city’s long history of blown investigations and even worse trials—if that’s what you’re really asking—it’s possible, I guess. It’s more than possible. But you’d have to get past the DNA, Lena. Lily Hight was raped before she was killed. Gant’s semen was found at the crime scene and by the coroner during the girl’s autopsy. That locks Gant in.”
    “You mean the samples that went missing at the crime lab?”
    Vaughan nodded.
    “SID doesn’t lose things, Greg. It’s not in their nature to lose things.”
    Vaughan got out of his chair and moved to the window. “What’s this got to do with Tim Hight, Lena? All that matters is what he believed. He thought Gant killed his daughter and got away with it. He shot the kid. He put two bullets in his head. And he murdered Johnny Bosco along the way.”
    Lena glanced at the door, then back at Vaughan. “Bosco was helping Gant investigate Lily Hight’s murder. They thought they knew who did it. Last night they were hoping to prove it.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “Gant’s brother told me that about an hour ago.”
    “You don’t believe him, I hope.”
    She thought it over. She thought about that feeling in her gut.
    “I believe that he believes it, and that his brother wouldn’t lie to him. That’s all I’ll say right now. Bosco and Gant—you’ve got to admit that it’s an odd pairing because of who Bosco was. No one’s been able to explain why they were together last night. Not even Bosco’s partner, Dante Escabar.”
    Vaughan sat down on the sill. “Bosco catered to Hollywood. He gave them privacy. A place to go where no one had to worry about controversy or some asshole taking a picture that might embarrass them. Being seen with Jacob Gant after the trial would have been a risk to Bosco. So I guess the question becomes, what was worth the risk?”
    Lena joined Vaughan by the window. “Exactly. There’s something wrong. Something