you a bad time?”
Hal nodded. “Pretty much. They think I killed her.”
“Pardon me for putting it baldly, but do they know she’s dead?”
“I don’t think so. Someone would have told me.”
“I guess that’s true. I pray she’s not.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Cushing paused, then lowered his voice. “She’s a terrific person. You know that? A wonderful person.”
Hal straightened in his chair. “I wasn’t sure you’d have remembered her, sir. It’s been a couple of years.”
“Yes, well. She’s not the kind of person anyone is likely to forget. Even if she hadn’t . . .” He stopped and took another tack. “I sometimes feel she saved my daughter’s life. That may be an exaggeration, but not much of one.”
Hal remembered it well. Cushing’s thirteen-year-old daughter, Kayla, had been suffering for months from severe acne, her lovely face starting to scar, perhaps permanently. Kayla had gone to at least three dermatologists and taken several different drugs, all to no avail, when Hal had overheard a conversation between a couple of his sergeants about the sheriff’s extreme distress at this seemingly hopeless situation. Hal had suggested a new anti-acne drug that his wife was very enthusiastic about.
It turned out to be a bit of an effort. Only two doctors in the city were prescribing the drug, and neither was accepting new patients, but Katie told Cushing that she could probably get Kayla an appointment and, if the doctor agreed, get her on the drug. Within a month, Kayla’s acne was all but gone.
“She was glad to help,” Hal said. “That’s the way she . . . That’s how she is.”
“Yes, it is. I remember well.” Cushing blew out through his mouth. “Who’s watching your kids?”
“My stepmother’s standing in until I can get somebody else. She lives close, so it’s not much of a burden.”
“What about you? Would it be helpful to you to be home with them? At least until you get a more permanent solution?”
Hal drew in a breath and finally said, “It would, sir, yes. But I’ve been worried about the time off.”
Cushing waved a hand. “You’ve got too many other things to worry about without having that be any kind of a concern. You should go home now. Be with your kids. Let me worry about your time. We’ll take care of it. You’re on special assignment for as long as you need. Full pay.”
13
A BBY AND J A M ORRIS met with Katie’s brother, Daniel Dunne, in his office at the law firm where he worked—Daley Silver Edwards—on the twenty-third floor of Two Embarcadero. As it turned out, Daniel had talked to his parents the night after they’d met with the Homicide inspectors, and he’d decided that he needed to be more proactive. When he’d heard that Homicide had gotten officially involved, he counted it as the beginning of real progress, so he’d called the department and asked the inspectors to come by.
As soon as they’d gotten settled, he started right in. “I understand that my family didn’t exactly present a united front with you guys yesterday.”
“We don’t need a united front,” Abby said. “The more input we get, the better.”
“My father thought that you favored the girls’ opinion.”
“Which was what, as you understand it?”
“That Hal was just destroyed by all this and couldn’t have had anything to do with it.”
JaMorris joined in. “We were interested in your father’s opinion, except he had nothing specific to offer, other than, given the timing, Hal was the only reasonable suspect who could have abducted Katie and gotten her out of the house.”
“What’s wrong with that picture?”
“Nothing,” JaMorris said, “except that your father couldn’t supply a motive, not even a hypothetical one. And from all we’ve been hearing, some money issues aside, Hal and Katie were doing pretty good together.”
Daniel shook his head. “That’s just plain not true,” he said. Dragging a hand over his
Hal nodded. “Pretty much. They think I killed her.”
“Pardon me for putting it baldly, but do they know she’s dead?”
“I don’t think so. Someone would have told me.”
“I guess that’s true. I pray she’s not.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Cushing paused, then lowered his voice. “She’s a terrific person. You know that? A wonderful person.”
Hal straightened in his chair. “I wasn’t sure you’d have remembered her, sir. It’s been a couple of years.”
“Yes, well. She’s not the kind of person anyone is likely to forget. Even if she hadn’t . . .” He stopped and took another tack. “I sometimes feel she saved my daughter’s life. That may be an exaggeration, but not much of one.”
Hal remembered it well. Cushing’s thirteen-year-old daughter, Kayla, had been suffering for months from severe acne, her lovely face starting to scar, perhaps permanently. Kayla had gone to at least three dermatologists and taken several different drugs, all to no avail, when Hal had overheard a conversation between a couple of his sergeants about the sheriff’s extreme distress at this seemingly hopeless situation. Hal had suggested a new anti-acne drug that his wife was very enthusiastic about.
It turned out to be a bit of an effort. Only two doctors in the city were prescribing the drug, and neither was accepting new patients, but Katie told Cushing that she could probably get Kayla an appointment and, if the doctor agreed, get her on the drug. Within a month, Kayla’s acne was all but gone.
“She was glad to help,” Hal said. “That’s the way she . . . That’s how she is.”
“Yes, it is. I remember well.” Cushing blew out through his mouth. “Who’s watching your kids?”
“My stepmother’s standing in until I can get somebody else. She lives close, so it’s not much of a burden.”
“What about you? Would it be helpful to you to be home with them? At least until you get a more permanent solution?”
Hal drew in a breath and finally said, “It would, sir, yes. But I’ve been worried about the time off.”
Cushing waved a hand. “You’ve got too many other things to worry about without having that be any kind of a concern. You should go home now. Be with your kids. Let me worry about your time. We’ll take care of it. You’re on special assignment for as long as you need. Full pay.”
13
A BBY AND J A M ORRIS met with Katie’s brother, Daniel Dunne, in his office at the law firm where he worked—Daley Silver Edwards—on the twenty-third floor of Two Embarcadero. As it turned out, Daniel had talked to his parents the night after they’d met with the Homicide inspectors, and he’d decided that he needed to be more proactive. When he’d heard that Homicide had gotten officially involved, he counted it as the beginning of real progress, so he’d called the department and asked the inspectors to come by.
As soon as they’d gotten settled, he started right in. “I understand that my family didn’t exactly present a united front with you guys yesterday.”
“We don’t need a united front,” Abby said. “The more input we get, the better.”
“My father thought that you favored the girls’ opinion.”
“Which was what, as you understand it?”
“That Hal was just destroyed by all this and couldn’t have had anything to do with it.”
JaMorris joined in. “We were interested in your father’s opinion, except he had nothing specific to offer, other than, given the timing, Hal was the only reasonable suspect who could have abducted Katie and gotten her out of the house.”
“What’s wrong with that picture?”
“Nothing,” JaMorris said, “except that your father couldn’t supply a motive, not even a hypothetical one. And from all we’ve been hearing, some money issues aside, Hal and Katie were doing pretty good together.”
Daniel shook his head. “That’s just plain not true,” he said. Dragging a hand over his
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