Read Online The Last Time I Saw Her by Karen Robards - Free Book Online
Authors: Karen Robards
Ads: Link
just fallen into place, and she felt a warm little glow of vindication. There were always early markers with serial killers. The trick lay in finding them.
“What files do you need?” she briskly asked Hughes as she walked back into her office. Now that she had his DNA sample and Tony was having him checked out in greater depth, she was ready to be rid of him. Looking at him bruised her heart. Being suspicious of him was nerve-racking. And this cat-and-mouse game they were playing—well, that she was playing; she hadn’t yet decided what he was doing—required almost more mental energy than she was capable of mustering, especially in her sleep-deprived, grief-stricken state.
If he was what she thought he was, there would be plenty of time to deal with him as he deserved later. When the DNA results came back.
He watched her walk back behind her desk. “Whatever you have on Michael Garland. Everything.”
Charlie gestured at the cardboard box full of papers that she’d had copied for him that morning. It sat on the floor beside the file cabinet. It was a large box, and it overflowed with material pertaining to Michael. By the time he’d gotten to her, Michael had been through a lot of interviews, a lot of testing, and a trial, the verdict of which he had been in the process of appealing. That meant tons of stuff.
But she wasn’t handing over everything. Like, for example, Michael’s watch. It was tucked up beneath the long sleeve of her lab coat. She touched it reflexively, like a talisman, her fingers searching out its heavy silver band. It was hers now, the only tangible thing of his she had.
“I want something in return,” she said.
Hughes frowned at her. Again, that frown was pure Michael, and it pinched at her heart. “Like what?”
“A copy of your file on the murder that brought you here.”
He pursed his lips. “I don’t know if I can do that. There are confidentiality issues involved.”
She wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Consider me a consulting expert. Which, since you’re here asking me questions and preparing to review my files on Mr. Garland, is what I technically already am.”
“The court order in my briefcase doesn’t say anything about me having to give you something in return for what you’re legally required to turn over to me.”
They looked at each other measuringly. Going through all the material she was giving him on Michael was going to take days, maybe weeks, and he had to know that. To get what she wanted, which was a chance to review his file, she was prepared to sweeten the pot.
“I’m familiar with the details of the Southern Slasher murders. I can look at the murder your client is accused of committing and tell you the similarities and differences much faster than you can wade through all that. In fact, I can give you an accurate assessment of the likelihood of the perpetrators being the same by Monday. If you give me the file.”
Hughes frowned.
“I don’t—” he began, but before he could get any further the sudden loud shriek of an institution-wide alarm going off made Charlie jump.
“What the hell?” Hughes said, as Charlie realized what the alarm had to be.
“Fire alarm,” she informed Hughes, who was grimacing at the earsplitting whoops. Grabbing her purse, she headed for the door, passing him on the way. She had to raise her voice to be heard. “They’re anal about clearing everybody out, so we have to go. Come on.”
She knew the procedure: everyone in the administrative wing proceeded down the stairs to the west parking lot. As this was the least restricted part of the prison except for the visitors’ area, they weren’t herded into the exercise pens or the rec yard or other confined outdoor spaces. Instead, civilians such as herself simply milled around on the asphalt until the all-clear sounded. Once they were out of the building, prisoners were segregated from the others and guarded in a designated area until they could be
“What files do you need?” she briskly asked Hughes as she walked back into her office. Now that she had his DNA sample and Tony was having him checked out in greater depth, she was ready to be rid of him. Looking at him bruised her heart. Being suspicious of him was nerve-racking. And this cat-and-mouse game they were playing—well, that she was playing; she hadn’t yet decided what he was doing—required almost more mental energy than she was capable of mustering, especially in her sleep-deprived, grief-stricken state.
If he was what she thought he was, there would be plenty of time to deal with him as he deserved later. When the DNA results came back.
He watched her walk back behind her desk. “Whatever you have on Michael Garland. Everything.”
Charlie gestured at the cardboard box full of papers that she’d had copied for him that morning. It sat on the floor beside the file cabinet. It was a large box, and it overflowed with material pertaining to Michael. By the time he’d gotten to her, Michael had been through a lot of interviews, a lot of testing, and a trial, the verdict of which he had been in the process of appealing. That meant tons of stuff.
But she wasn’t handing over everything. Like, for example, Michael’s watch. It was tucked up beneath the long sleeve of her lab coat. She touched it reflexively, like a talisman, her fingers searching out its heavy silver band. It was hers now, the only tangible thing of his she had.
“I want something in return,” she said.
Hughes frowned at her. Again, that frown was pure Michael, and it pinched at her heart. “Like what?”
“A copy of your file on the murder that brought you here.”
He pursed his lips. “I don’t know if I can do that. There are confidentiality issues involved.”
She wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Consider me a consulting expert. Which, since you’re here asking me questions and preparing to review my files on Mr. Garland, is what I technically already am.”
“The court order in my briefcase doesn’t say anything about me having to give you something in return for what you’re legally required to turn over to me.”
They looked at each other measuringly. Going through all the material she was giving him on Michael was going to take days, maybe weeks, and he had to know that. To get what she wanted, which was a chance to review his file, she was prepared to sweeten the pot.
“I’m familiar with the details of the Southern Slasher murders. I can look at the murder your client is accused of committing and tell you the similarities and differences much faster than you can wade through all that. In fact, I can give you an accurate assessment of the likelihood of the perpetrators being the same by Monday. If you give me the file.”
Hughes frowned.
“I don’t—” he began, but before he could get any further the sudden loud shriek of an institution-wide alarm going off made Charlie jump.
“What the hell?” Hughes said, as Charlie realized what the alarm had to be.
“Fire alarm,” she informed Hughes, who was grimacing at the earsplitting whoops. Grabbing her purse, she headed for the door, passing him on the way. She had to raise her voice to be heard. “They’re anal about clearing everybody out, so we have to go. Come on.”
She knew the procedure: everyone in the administrative wing proceeded down the stairs to the west parking lot. As this was the least restricted part of the prison except for the visitors’ area, they weren’t herded into the exercise pens or the rec yard or other confined outdoor spaces. Instead, civilians such as herself simply milled around on the asphalt until the all-clear sounded. Once they were out of the building, prisoners were segregated from the others and guarded in a designated area until they could be
Similar Books
