then breaking them within hours. The child learns not to trust today, because tomorrow his or her world could be turned upside down again. And then there were the lies. Jesus! All the lies. This was just another one. Of course it was.
She sipped her Scotch and watched the moonlight bring shadows to life in her backyard, while the memories, the voices kept coming.
Like mother, like daughter.
No. She was not like her mother. She wasn’t like her at all.
Her cellular phone suddenly began chirping inside her jacket pocket. Only now did she remember she had unplugged her regular phone, in case her mother felt some need to call. Maggie stretched to grab the jacket off a nearby stand without disturbing Harvey, whose eyes were open but whose head was still claiming her lap.
“Maggie O’Dell.”
“Maggie, it’s Julia Racine. Sorry to call so late.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Racine was the last person Maggie wanted to talk to right now.
“I need to talk to you,” she said, her voice uncommonly humbled. “Do you have a few minutes? I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No, it’s okay.” She petted Harvey, who closed his eyes again. “I haven’t made it to bed yet, partly because my dog’s oversize head has taken up residence in my lap.”
“Lucky guy.”
“Jesus! Racine.”
“Sorry.”
“If that’s what this conversation—”
“No, it’s not. Really, I’m sorry.” Racine hesitated, as if there was something more on the subject she wanted to add before going on. Then she said, “I’m in deep shit with the chief. Senator Brier wants my ass kicked off the force because of those photos Garrison managed to get in the Enquirer.”
“I’m sure things will cool down as soon as we figure out who is responsible for his daughter’s death.”
“I wish it was that easy,” Racine said, only this time there was something different about her voice. Not anger, not frustration. Maybe a bit of fear. “Chief Henderson is seriously pissed. I may lose my badge.”
Maggie didn’t know what to say. As much as she disliked Racine and questioned her competency, she knew this was harsh.
“To make matters worse, that asshole Garrison called me.” The anger returned. “He said he has some photos to show me that might help the case.”
“Why would he suddenly want to help?”
Silence. Maggie knew it. There had to be something in it for Garrison. But what?
“He wants something from me,” Racine admitted, going from fear to anger to embarrassment.
“He wants something like what? Sorry, Racine, but you’re not getting off that easy. What does he want?”
“He wants photos.”
“What photos could he possibly want from you?”
“No, he wants to take photos of me.” Racine let the anger slip out.
“Oh, Jesus!” Maggie couldn’t believe it. No wonder Racine sounded like an emotional wreck. “And why would he think that’s possible?”
“Cut the crap, O’Dell. You know why he thinks it’s possible.”
So the rumors were true. The stories about Racine exchanging favors weren’t just crude locker-room talk.
“Does he realize we could already have him arrested for obstructing a police investigation?”
“I told him.”
“And?”
“He laughed.”
“Let’s do it, then.”
“Are you kidding?”
“No. I’ll talk to Cunningham. You talk to Henderson. Let’s bring him in.”
“I’m in enough trouble, O’Dell. If Garrison is bluffing—”
“If Garrison’s as arrogant as I think he is, and he does have something, then we’ll just convince him it’s in his best interests to share that information.”
“And just how do we convince him?”
“I’m gonna give Cunningham a call. You talk to Henderson and call me back. Let’s bring this asshole in.”
Maggie hung up the phone, put the Scotch aside and felt a renewed energy. Gently she nudged Harvey awake. Suddenly, she found herself grateful for bastards like Garrison.
CHAPTER 58
WEDNESDAY
November 27
Washington, D.C.
Ben Garrison pretended to keep his cool while he sat and waited in the middle of the twelfth precinct, handcuffed to a fucking chair. Officers shoved their way around him, ignoring him. A stoned, toothless hooker kept smiling at him from across the room. She even winked at him once, uncrossed her legs and gave him a Sharon Stone view of her merchandise. He wasn’t impressed.
His wrists itched under the too-tight handcuffs. The chair’s wobbly legs drove him nuts, and he shoved it back against the wall, drawing scowls from the two bastards who brought him in. He still couldn’t believe Racine would do this. Who would have thought she had it in her? Oddly, it only made him want to fuck her all the more.
He returned from Boston to find two of the District’s finest waiting for him