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A low ceiling was hung with ship lanterns, and the timbered walls were decorated with a nautical theme. Jack inched his way through the narrow gaps between the tight-packed tables and across a beer-stained and sawdust-covered hardwood floor until he reached the booth. Kathy smiled when she saw him. She was wearing pressed jeans and a blue work shirt with rolled-up sleeves that showed off her tanned forearms. She looked rested. Her hair shone even in the dim light in the bar, and her face had a fresh scrubbed look.
“So, you’re vouching for the chowder?” Jack said as he sat opposite her in the booth.
“It’s the best in Palisades Heights. The fish and chips are good, too.”
A waitress came over and Jack took Kathy’s suggestions and also ordered a pitcher of beer.
“Are you’re doing okay?” Jack asked. “I don’t mean tonight. I mean with life.”
“I can’t complain now, but it was rough at first. Rehab was hell. There were times when I wanted to run. Then I’d remember what I’d lost.”
Kathy shuddered. “You have no idea how low I’d fallen, what Kilbride forced me to do. And remembering gave me the strength to stick it out.”
“No relapses?”
“Once, soon after I moved here, but Grady . . .” Kathy nodded toward a meaty bartender with a sweaty, bald head and Popeye forearms. “He got me through it, and I’ve been squeaky clean ever since.”
“Tell me about the photography,” Jack said to change the subject to something pleasant.
Kathy beamed. “I love it, Jack. I’ve always done it. It started as a hobby when I was a teenager. In a way, getting disbarred was a blessing. I was never enamored with the law but I love painting pictures on film. And the coast with those massive rock formations and the sunsets and the storms . . .”
Kathy blushed. “Sorry, it’s just . . .”
“Don’t apologize. I think it’s great that you have such passion for what you do. I wish I had something like that.”
Kathy sobered. “You sound like someone who’s burning out.”
“No, it isn’t like that. I still get pumped when I have a big case. But it’s more about the winning. I don’t know if I love any other part of it.”
“Well, you did have a reputation as someone who would do anything to win.”
“Oh?”
Kathy cocked her head to one side. She looked thoughtful.
“I don’t know if I should tell you this.”
“Go ahead. I’m a big boy. I can take it. This is about Kilbride, right?”
She nodded. “You had a reputation for wanting to win at all costs, but you also had a reputation for playing around. So I set you up. I dressed provocatively to distract you.”
“You saw the flaw in the case from the beginning?”
“The minute I read the indictment.”
Jack threw his head back and laughed. “I was a first-class fool.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Jack grinned ruefully. “I deserved to get clobbered.”
“I’m glad you’re taking it so well. I was worried that you’d harbor a grudge.”
“No, actually I’m grateful to you. You taught me a good lesson. That was the last time I got caught with my pants down like that.”
The waitress brought their food and they ate in silence for a while. Then Kathy said, “So, tell me what you’ve been doing. You left the DA’s office . . .”
“Yeah. After Kilbride my reputation dropped several notches. It went up a bit when I put him away with your help, but the writing was on the wall. So, when this spot opened with the Department of Justice, I decided it was time for a change.”
“And you like the new position?”
“I travel a lot, but the cases are usually challenging.”
“Are you still single?”
Jack grinned. “That’s certainly forward.”
Now it was Kathy’s turn to laugh. “I’m not hitting on you. I’m just curious to see if your reputation as a ladies’ man is still intact.”
Jack stopped smiling. “I’m not seeing anyone right now. That’s okay, because I’m rarely around. What about you?”
Kathy shook her head. “I’ve been pretty celibate since I got out of rehab.”
Jack looked around the tavern. “Now that I think about it, this is an odd place for someone who’s been in rehab to work.”
Kathy shrugged. “It was the only place I could get a job. And I’m not now and have never been an alcoholic. That thing with the cocaine was pure stupidity. I was full of myself and I was certain I could take it or leave it. Then it was too late and I was hooked.”
Kathy shook her head ruefully. “It’s hard once you’ve been addicted but—except for that one backslide—I’ve been able to control myself. Also, Grady watches me like a hawk. It’s like having a guardian angel—or mother hen—around twenty-four/seven.”
Jack was about to say something when someone at the front door of the tavern caught his eye. A man was standing half in shadow, but the half Jack could make out looked a lot like Gary Kilbride. Kathy saw where Jack was looking and she looked there, too, but the man had already left. She stared at Jack quizzically, but he didn’t want to alarm her.
“I thought I saw someone I knew but I was wrong,” he said. “So, you beat your addiction. That’s great.”
“You never beat an addiction. I learned that in rehab. You just learn how to keep from giving in to it.”
“Have you thought about reapplying to the bar?”
“I’m not ready for that, yet. And, frankly, I don’t know if I’d want to go back to being a lawyer, even if I knew I was a lock to be readmitted.”
When Kathy smiled she looked serene. “I like it here. I like knowing everyone and knowing they care about me. And I love my photography. I’m not making the big bucks anymore but I’m at peace and you can’t put a price on that.”
“I envy you,” Jack said. And he did. He couldn’t remember a time when he was really content.
Kathy cocked her head to the side and grinned. “You could move to the coast, take up a hobby and find inner peace.”
Jack laughed. Then he looked at his watch.
“I’m glad we did this,” he said, “but I’m out on my feet.”
He started to pull out his wallet but Kathy shook her head. “This is on me, Jack. And I enjoyed it, too.”
They said good-bye and Jack left. The chowder had been as good as advertised, the beers he’d finished had mellowed him, and the night was balmy. As he walked to his car Jack thought about how much Kathy had changed. She seemed happy and so motivated about her photography. He’d told her the truth when he said he didn’t hold a grudge anymore. But, if he had, he thought he would not hold one, now that they’d talked.
Jack was still in a good mood when he got into his car and checked his rear-view mirror for traffic. Then his mood changed. A man was standing in a doorway halfway down the block where he could watch the tavern. Jack couldn’t see his face, but he was willing to bet that it was the man he’d seen in the tavern—the man who looked like Gary Kilbride.
Jack made a U-turn and drove back toward the Seafarer. The man looked his way. Jack tried to see his face but it was in shadow. Jack floored the accelerator and the man sprinted into an alley between a bakery and a store that sold swimwear. Jack pulled to the curb and leaned across the passenger seat just in time to see the man disappear around the back of the bakery.
Jack sat back and thought about his next move. After a moment, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Oscar Llewellyn. Oscar had retired from the Portland Police and tried retirement. After six months of golf, fishing, and drinking by himself he had called Jack when he read about an opening for an investigator at the DOJ.
“It’s Jack.”
“What’s up?” Oscar asked.
“I’m in Palisades Heights working a new homicide and I’ve got a few things for you.”
“Shoot.”
“First, I want you to call the c
orrections division and find out if Gary Kilbride is still a prisoner at the state penitentiary.”
There was dead air for a second. “That fucker’s doing hard time. No way they’d let him out.”
“Just check, okay, and call me as soon as you know. It’s very important.”
“Will do. What’s next?”
Jack filled him in on what he’d learned so far. Then he asked him to check with his contacts in California to see if Frank Janowitz was having an affair with Megan Cahill.
“Anything else?”
“Yeah.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
When Jack walked into Teddy Winston’s office the next morning, the district attorney stopped talking to a man in a tan police uniform that looked like it had been cleaned and pressed moments before Booth entered the room.
“Jack, this is George Melendez, our chief of police,” Winston said. “George was in Portland at a conference. That’s why you haven’t met him.”
Melendez was a little over six feet, wore his hair in a buzz cut, and had the physique of someone who pumped serious iron. Jack guessed that he was ex-military and he learned later that Melendez had been a decorated Marine. When the men shook hands, Melendez did not apply any pressure, which Jack took as a sign of self-confidence.
“Teddy says you think we may have a problem,” the police chief said.
“I’m pretty sure we do. That’s why I wanted to meet this morning. Last night, I had dinner with Kathy Moran.”
Winston frowned, and Jack held up his hand. “We didn’t discuss the case. We hadn’t seen each other in five years. It was just two old acquaintances catching up.”
Jack turned to Melendez. “I don’t know how much Ted told you about Raymond Cahill’s murder.”
“He was just starting to bring me up to speed when you walked in,” the police chief said.
“Do you know Kathy Moran?” Jack asked.
“Sure, the bartender at the Seafarer.”
“Do you know she’s a photographer?”
Melendez nodded. “I’ve seen her stuff at Ellen Devereaux’s gallery.”
“The night Raymond Cahill was murdered, Kathy finished her shift around one thirty and went down to the beach to take photographs for a proposed exhibition. That’s when she saw Megan Cahill standing on the beach beneath her home, holding a gun. Kathy brought Megan into the house and discovered the body.”
Jack looked across the desk at the district attorney. “I didn’t want you to sit in on my interview with Kathy because I knew we’d bring up something that happened in Portland the last time we met. You’ll learn momentarily why I’m telling you about it now but I want you to promise to keep what we say confidential because it could hurt Kathy’s reputation.”
“Tell us what you’ve got to say,” Melendez said.
Jack looked at Winston and Winston nodded.
“Kathy practiced law in Portland for several years. We met when she represented a drug dealer named Gary Kilbride in a murder case. She won the case but Kilbride hooked her on cocaine. Kathy went downhill fast and embezzled money from her law firm to pay for her habit. Her partners came to me and we worked out a deal with Kathy: no prosecution if she set up Kilbride and resigned from the bar. She kept her part of the bargain, Kilbride was sentenced to prison, and she went into rehab. It sounds like she’s gotten her life back on track and I don’t want anything to derail her.”
“What’s the problem, Mr. Booth?” Melendez asked.
“Gary Kilbride is a violent psychopath. The key witness in his murder trial was tortured and killed shortly after Kilbride was acquitted. There’s no evidence connecting Kilbride to the murder, but I would be shocked if he wasn’t responsible. Last night, when I was eating with Kathy, I thought I saw Kilbride in the Seafarer. When I left, I thought I saw him watching the front of the tavern. I drove back but the man I saw ran away. This morning I learned that Kilbride was given an early parole. I have no idea how he managed that but he’s very bright and he has the money to hire very good lawyers.”
“Do you think Miss Moran is in danger?” Melendez asked.
“He threatened to get Kathy when he was arrested and I can’t think of a reason for Kilbride to be here that doesn’t involve getting revenge on her. And I was the prosecutor in the murder and drug cases, so he could be after me, too.”
“What do you want us to do?” Winston asked.
“Provide protection for Kathy.”
“Are you certain the man you saw was Kilbride?” Melendez asked.
“No. He was half in shadow across a dark room so I can’t swear it was him and he was over a block away when I saw him from my car. But it’s too much of a coincidence that he’s out on parole and someone who looks like him is in Palisades Heights.”
Melendez thought for a moment. Then he made a decision.
“We don’t have a big enough force to babysit Miss Moran but I think we should tell her that Kilbride is out and you think you saw him last night. I can order a patrol officer to cruise by her place at night and I’ll have someone escort her home while we see if we can find Kilbride. If we do, I’ll have a talk with him. That’s the best I can do.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Beachfront property in Palisades Heights was impressive to look at and cost a fortune. As you moved back from the Pacific, the houses decreased in size and value. The blue, weather-beaten bungalow with the white trim that Kathy rented from Grady Cox was six blocks east of Ocean Avenue and wouldn’t impress anyone.
It took several minutes of hard knocking before Kathy unlocked her front door. She was barefoot and dressed in a rumpled T-shirt and shorts. She looked bleary-eyed and her hair was sleep-tousled. But she came awake instantly when she saw Chief Melendez and the worried look on Jack Booth’s face.
“Sorry to wake you, Kathy,” Jack said, “but something’s come up.”
Kathy looked back and forth between the two men.
“What’s this about?” she demanded.
“Can we come in?” Chief Melendez asked.
Kathy hesitated before stepping aside. Jack walked into Kathy’s living room. He was surprised at how messy it looked. There were newspapers and books strewn over a dumpy couch and dirty plates and glasses on the coffee table in front of it. Kathy saw where Jack was looking.
“Excuse the mess.”
“Not a problem,” Jack said. “My place will never make House Beautiful.”
Kathy cleared the literary debris off the couch and the two men sat down. Kathy moved to a rocking chair and folded her hands in her lap. She looked anxious.
“What’s happened?” she asked.
“Do you remember when we were eating and I said I saw someone I knew?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t want to alarm you but I thought I saw Gary Kilbride inside the Seafarer and I thought I saw him watching the front door of the tavern when I left.”
Kathy’s eyes went wide.
“My investigator called the penitentiary,” Jack continued. “Kilbride was released on early parole.”
“How could that happen?” Kathy asked.
“I don’t know. I’m checking into it. But Chief Melendez is going to have someone escort you home until we clear this up. He’ll also have a patrol car cruise by your house.”
“I’m going to find Kilbride and I’m going to have a heart-to-heart with him,” the police chief assured her. “He’s not going to hurt you.”
“You have to be very careful,” Kathy said, her fear evident. “Gary isn’t normal. He enjoys hurting people, and he thinks he’s so smart that he can outwit everyone.”
“I’ve dealt with people like that before, Miss Moran.”
Kathy leaned forward. Her shoulders were hunched and she was clasping her hands so tightly that the knuckles were white. She looked Melendez in the eye.
“Promise me that you won’t underestimate Gary. He’s different. He’s not afraid of the police. He’ll seem friendly. You’ll think you’ve persuaded h
im to your way of thinking. But he’ll be manipulating you. He can lie to your face and you’ll never see it.”
“I know exactly the type of person you’re describing and I can assure you that I know how to deal with them. I spent many years in the Marines. Some were as an MP. There’s not too much I haven’t seen.”
Jack thought Kathy was going to say something else but she changed her mind.
Jack pulled something out of his pocket. Kathy stared at it. Then she looked really frightened. There was a .38 police special in Jack’s hand.
“This is my gun. Do you know how to use it?”
“I . . . I’ve done some shooting.” Kathy licked her lips. “Yes.”
“The chief is going to get you a permit and I’m going to lend this to you. It’s strictly a safety precaution. But we’ll both feel better knowing you’re armed.”
“Jesus,” Kathy whispered.
“Look, this is probably an overreaction on my part, but we want to keep you safe and the chief doesn’t have the manpower to provide a bodyguard. Will you take the gun?”
Kathy hesitated. She stared at the weapon. Then she nodded and held out her hand. Jack gave her the .38.
Melendez handed Kathy his card. “These are the numbers of my home and cell phones. Call immediately, any time of the day or night, if something happens.”
“Thank you, both of you,” Kathy said as she escorted the men to the door. “You can’t imagine how much I appreciate this.”
“We just want you safe,” Jack said.
Jack and the police chief walked out of the house. When he got to his car, Jack turned. Kathy was still in the doorway. She smiled at him and Jack smiled back.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Fewer than twelve hours after Jack Booth’s call, Oscar Llewellyn had discovered the identity of Parnell Crouse’s California divorce attorney and had an appointment to meet him. His flight landed early, and Oscar had thirty minutes to spare when his cab dropped him off on the sidewalk in front of the glass-and-steel building in San Francisco’s financial district where Lucius Jackson practiced law.