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If he had asked her to strip naked here in the elevator, she couldn’t have been more surprised. He knew the weakness that she had for Sal’s crabs. When they’d been married, dirt-poor, her a law student, him a beat cop, they would allow themselves a meal at Sal’s once a month. It had been the highlight of the month. Eating at Sal’s, a bottle of cheap wine and a walk in the park afterward. It had been heaven, and some of the best times of her life. They were certainly more enjoyable than ninety-nine percent of the official functions she had to attend as a D.A.
It was ridiculous that going to Sal’s would hit such an emotional note for her. She was hungry and the stuffed crabs sounded heavenly. If Kelly told him she didn’t want the memories Sal’s invoked, he might misinterpret it. She was tired, that was all. “All right. You’ve bribed me.”
He grinned, an expression of cocky arrogance. She didn’t want to add to that arrogance, but stuffed crabs—it would be a brief reprieve from the lousy day, she told herself. “You going to buy?”
“Will that get you to go?”
“Yup.”
“Then I’m buying.”
“After you buy me dinner, then you can tell me what ugly facts you’ve uncovered.”
“I will, but only after you’ve eaten.”
Sal’s was a little place, the last business in an old turn-of-the-century building with atmosphere that you could scrape off the walls. Ash was sure that, if he pulled the health records on this place, he wouldn’t be happy. But on this point, ignorance was bliss.
Sal smiled when he saw them walk into the restaurant. “Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Ashcroft. It’s been too long since you’ve come to my fine establishment. Come, the table you like is empty. I will seat you.”
Ash winced inwardly. Hadn’t he been here since the divorce? He glanced at Kelly to see her reaction to Sal’s mistake. Her face drained of color. She followed the little man without a word of protest.
After they were seated, Sal asked, “Stuffed crabs and fettuccine Alfredo and a sauvignon blanc?”
Ash looked at Kelly. When she nodded, Ash agreed. “I’m surprised you remember what we like to order, Sal, with all the customers you’ve had over the years.”
Sal grinned and leaned down. “I’ll tell you a story, Mr. Ashcroft. When you and the missus used to come into my place, I’d tell my wife, look at those two lovers. There’s a passion there that is reserved for the few. Then I would grin at my Catherine and give her a good kiss and a pat. She enjoyed when you came into the restaurant.”
Ash couldn’t have been more surprised. Glancing at Kelly, he saw the wounded expression in her eyes. Her jaw clenched. Sal’s words had inflicted a serious wound.
“I’ll get the wine and turn in your order.” Sal hurried away.
Ash glanced at Kelly. “I’m sorry—”
She shook her head. “It’s okay.” But from her body posture, her shoulders hunched as if to protect herself, it wasn’t.
Taking a deep breath, she hid her emotions behind that cool lawyer mask of hers. It was one of the things that had always grated on his nerves.
Finally she shook her head and leaned back in her chair. “Well, it’s just too perfect an ending for today.”
Before Ash could respond, Sal returned with the wine and poured them each a glass.
He took a sip of wine. “I understand. It’s been one of those days for me, too, when you want to kick the hell out of your tires to vent some of the frustration.” He shook his head, noticing that he had her attention. “I was tempted, but decided I didn’t want broken toes in addition to all the other problems we’ve got. Besides, dealing with the city when you smash up your car is worse than dealing with the snotty rich kids in the Memorial area.”
Kelly’s shoulders relaxed. “I’m sure the city is grateful you didn’t take your frustration out on another municipal vehicle.”
His brow arched.
She shrugged. “A friend of mine in the department called today and commented on your trouble.” Carrie Nelson, a forensic psychiatrist with the PD, had also given Kelly sympathy about having to work with her ex, even if he was a good detective. “Tell me what you’ve discovered,” Kelly quickly asked.
He was more than ready to move on to another subject. He told her about the conversation he had had with Steve Carlson. “I’ve got to tell you, Kelly, I believe the man,” he told her as the waiter arrived with their dinner.
“Oh, come on, Ash.” Doubt and disbelief rang in her words. “I’ve seen you nail a dozen different guys who were all claiming to be innocent and you brought me the evidence to back up your hunch. What’s the problem now?”
He put down his fork. “The problem is the blood evidence. Why wasn’t there any found in Carlson’s apartment, considering how bloody the crime scene was?”
“That bothered me, too, when I looked over the file.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Why didn’t it bother you the first time, Kelly?”
“It did, but Lee assured me that Carlson could’ve gotten rid of the shirt. He had the jewelry.”
“Yeah, he ripped them off, admitted it, but he claimed he left when he heard the a car coming up the driveway.”
From her expression, she wasn’t convinced.
“Carlson admitted he was sloppy in his escape, leaving evidence of the burglary.”
“So.”
“So, if we believe Carlson, then we’ve missed the murderer completely. He’s been walking around for the past five years. Has he killed again?”
Her expression hardened. “Do you have another suspect in mind?”
Grinding his teeth, he pulled a hard rein on his anger. Kelly wasn’t the enemy. “I wish I did. I’ll interview all the neighbors to see if I can come up with anything new, and comb through the evidence we have. You want to call your people tomorrow and see if they can pull the evidence you’ve got stored?”
“I’ll do it.” She cocked her head. “As a matter of fact, we can go over it together.”
“Don’t trust me, huh?”
“No, that’s not it. Maybe your point of view will help me see things in a different light.”
What he needed was some time and distance away from this woman. But since that wasn’t going to happen, maybe he could make this as fast as possible. “All right. Call me when we can go over the evidence.”
“I will.”
Of that, he didn’t doubt.
Kelly pulled her car into the parking lot of the old warehouse where the evidence from tried court cases was stored. With the darkening shadows and unsavory atmosphere in this part of downtown, Kelly felt her body tense. She wished the D.A.’s office would store their evidence in a police facility. At least cops were there.
When she opened the main door to the warehouse, she saw Ash standing on the far side of the little room, leaning against the counter that separated the waiting area from the smaller office. He laughed at something the male attendant said.
“You’re wrong, Ray,” Ash answered.
Ash was a handsome man, Kelly admitted, with a body that would fuel any female fantasy. It certainly had fueled hers once upon a time.
Enough, she mentally scolded. She didn’t need to remember that about him. What she needed to remember was what a pain in the rear he could be. But that mulish quality of his was what she needed right now, a man not afraid of causing ripples and stepping on toes. And toes were going to be stepped on.
“I wasn’t,” Ray answered. “And Jeffies got his chops busted when his boss came back.”
Ash glanced at her and the grin on his face evaporated. “You’re a little late, Kelly.”
“It’s rush hour, Ash.”
His brow arched, silently reminding her that she was the one who’d set the time they were to meet.
She stepped to the counter. “I need the evidence on the Carlson case.”
Ray nodded and entered the name into his computer terminal. After several moments, he asked, “You want the door from the bedroom where they found Cathy Reed in addition to all the other evidence?” he asked.
She remembered the door. Blood had splattered on it when Catherine Reed had been murdered. Kelly had kept that door in her office for close to six months, studied it, knew the evidence on it. She didn’t want it back again.
“No, since I’ve got pictures of it in the file. If we need it, I’ll send someone over to get it.”
“Okay. You got the request form I need to keep?” Ray asked.
Kelly pulled the paper from her shoulder bag. Ray took it and, after carefully looking over it, he nodded and walked through the door into the warehouse.
“Where do you want to go over this evidence? Your office?” Ash asked.
“Yes. I have an opening argument to write, so it would be easier if we did it there.”
Ash studied her and she knew he noticed the circles under her eyes. For a moment, his concern showed in his eyes and it caused the oddest sensation in her stomach. The outside door opened, dispelling the moment, and Ralph Lee walked into the building. He carried a box of evidence.
“Ah, if this isn’t a coincidence,” Ralph murmured. He set down his box on the counter. “The A.D.A. and her detective.”
Kelly didn’t want to trade insults with Detective Lee. She kept her mouth shut and smiled at him.
“You here to collect the evidence on the Carlson case?” Ralph asked.
“We are,” Ash quickly answered.
“You going to right the wrong the state supreme court committed?”
Ralph Lee’s thinking had never made it past the seventies, when men ruled every part of the justice system. He was obnoxious but had good instincts on a case.
“We’re reviewing what we have and searching for new information,” Kelly replied.
Ralph’s eyes narrowed.
“And what are you doing here, Detective?” Kelly asked.
“Returning the evidence on the case I went to Amarillo to testify. The assistant D.A. had an emergency and asked if I’d return the evidence.”
Kelly felt Ash move behind her. Oddly enough, it was a comfort to have him standing behind her.
The door to the inside part of the warehouse opened and Ray appeared with a pushcart with two boxes on it. “Here you go, Ms. A.D.A. Evidence in the Carlson case.” Ray noticed the other detective. “How are you, Ralph? You got stuff for me?”
“I do, Ray.”
Ray held out a clipboard to Kelly. “You have to sign for the evidence.”
She quickly signed the sheet. Ash took one box and Kelly the other. Ralph opened the outside door for Kelly. There was an expression in his eyes that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. As she walked by Ralph, he whispered, “That bastard is guilty.”
Kelly stopped. “Well, that may be, Detective, but because we’ve got to do this again, I want my case airtight. There were some holes when I reviewed it, so Detective Ashcroft and I want to look at the evidence again.”
Lee’s eyes hardened. “I’ve got the best damn closure rate in the department.”
“This isn’t about your closure rate, Detective. This is about convicting a murderer.” She walked by him, her jaw tight. “The man is a self-centered, puffed-up, three-eyed monster,” she grumbled, walking to her car.
A laugh jerked her out of her fuming. She turned to Ash.
“Ralph has that effect on women. They want to kill him. That’s why his partner usually interviews them at crime scenes and leaves Ralph to interview the men.”
She shook her head. “Why does HPD keep him?”
“Because, Kelly, he’s got good instincts and a good solve rate.”
“So he said.”
“It’s true.”
“Then why does this case have holes in it?”
His frown only confirmed her suspicion. “That’s a good question.”
“If my case had holes, do his other cases have problems?”
She didn’t like the look in his eyes.
Chapter 3
Ash cursed a blue streak as he followed Kelly’s car through downtown Houston to her office. The little bug she’d put in his ear kept whispering.
And whispering. And what it said left a hole in his gut.
Ralph had a legendary closure rate, one he held over everyone’s head. But what if that rate wasn’t all it was cracked up to be? What if Ralph had done things in other cases that had helped close them prematurely? Ash’s mind shied away from thinking about such things, because if the Carlson case wasn’t just an aberration, but part of a pattern in Ralph’s closure rate, then they were in deep trouble. If anyone caught wind of this, the courts would be waist deep in prisoners claiming their cases had been railroaded.
He tried to bury the worry as he carried the boxes from Kelly’s car to her office. Teresa, Kelly’s secretary, smiled coyly at him when he walked into the room.
“Let’s go into the conference room, where we can spread out this evidence on the table,” Kelly called over her shoulder.
Ash followed her into the room, noticing what a nice butt she had. He tried to ignore his awareness and set his box on the long table.
“Are you going to need me for anything else, Kelly?” Teresa asked from the doorway. She smiled at Ash again.
Kelly looked from Ash to Teresa. “No, you go on home, Teresa. We’re fine.”
Once they were alone, a warning flashed in Kelly’s eyes. Ash shrugged and opened the box in front of him. Inside was Catherine Reed’s blouse, covered with blood, different items from the room that had blood on them, a carpet sample from the bedroom and pictures from the crime scene. But the murder weapon, a Civil War saber that had hung on the hall wall outside the upstairs bedroom, wasn’t in the box.
