„Not many people. That’s why I went to meet him. He said he’d gotten my number from a mutual friend and he wanted to help me out. For a fee.“ He breathed heavily, then batted away the nurse’s hand when she tried to adjust the oxygen line in his nose. „Said he wanted two G’s. If we’d won the case, it would have been cheap.“

Abe was wondering what kind of friends a parasite like Carson would harbor when he had a sudden thought. „Would Trevor Skinner have known your cell phone number?“ he asked. „Maybe had it in a phone book?“

„Probably.“ Carson drew a labored breath. „Trev kept his life in his BlackBerry.“

„You mean his electronic organizer?“ Mia asked.

Carson nodded. „Clever little thing. Trev could send e-mails from anywhere.“ He lifted a brow. „His BlackBerry wasn’t on him when you found him, was it?“

„No.“ Abe shook his head. „No, it wasn’t.“

„Then I’d say you have your work cut out for you, Detectives. Trev knew the private lives of every one of his clients and half the lawyers in town. Judges, too.“

Tuesday, February 24,

1:30 p.m.

Spinnelli frowned. „Judges, too? What did he mean by that?“

Mia squirted ketchup over her burger. „He just smiled and told us to figure it out. S.O.B.“

„He’s right, though.“ Abe considered the implications yet again. „If the killer has Skinner’s organizer, he has enough ammunition to hold him for weeks.“

„Speaking of ammunition,“ Spinnelli said, „what happened at the gun shop?“

„She gave us names of customers who make their own bullets,“ Mia said. „We’d visited the first two on the list when we got the call from the hospital saying Carson was awake. Neither had seen the mark before, but we still have four more names.“

„Well, we got a reply on opening Aaron Jenkins’s juvenile record.“ Spinnelli clenched his jaw. „No, no, and no.“

Abe sighed. „Then let’s visit the mother after we see the other old men.“

Mia peeked in the bag. „One more burger. We brought it for Kristen. Where is she?“

Abe’s eyes took yet another sweep of the office area. She’d been his first thought as he entered, occupying a corner of his mind even as they’d updated Spinnelli over lunch. But Mia had smirked at him smugly, so he’d held back his demand to know Kristen’s whereabouts.

Spinnelli shrugged. „She took a break about an hour ago. She went to lunch.“

Abe felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. „You let her go? Alone?“

„She’s a grown woman, Abe,“ Spinnelli said mildly. „And not a stupid one. She told me where she was going and asked Murphy to take her there. Some place called Owen’s. It’s a diner, I take it.“

Abe relaxed a bit. „It is.“

„But you’ll still call her to make sure she’s all right,“ Mia added slyly.

Abe concentrated on his burger, well aware of the knowing glance passing between Marc and Mia and not giving a damn. „I will.“

Tuesday, February 24,

1:30 p.m.

„You cleaned your plate,“ Vincent said approvingly.

Kristen looked down at the crumbs. „I was hungry.“ Which surprised her. After hours of accepting the pent-up anger of the victims she’d once represented, she’d thought her appetite gone. She’d come here to get away for a little while, agreeing to lunch only after Owen shook his finger in her face before disappearing to train his newest hire. Kristen winced at. the crash of dishes and Owen’s shout. „I’m not sure who I feel sorrier for. Owen or the new guy.“

Vincent shook his shaggy head. „I think you should feel sorrier for me. I’ve got a mind to stop by Timothy’s to ask his mom when he’s coming home. How sick can one grandmother be? He needs to get back to work before I lose my temper.“

„How long did Timothy work here?“ Kristen asked and Vincent scratched his head.

„Well, I’ve been here for fifteen years. Owen bought the place about three years ago and hired Timothy about a year later. Anyway, you want some pie? I made it this morning.“

„You twisted my arm, Vincent.“

Vincent grinned his slow grin. „With ice cream?“

„Of course.“

Vincent was heaping scoops of vanilla on her pie when the little bell on the glass door jangled. Kristen shivered at the blast of cold air at her back, then glanced over her shoulder when Vincent slowly lowered the ice-cream dipper and stared. Kristen stared, too, needing a minute to process the face above the calf-length fur coat that seemed out of place in a diner whose seats were cracked vinyl. Then realization clicked.

„Sara?“ John’s wife. Oh, God, she thought, looking at Sara Alden’s stricken face and thinking the worst. „What’s wrong? What’s happened to John?“

Sara unbuttoned her coat with cool grace. „Can we talk privately, Kristen?“

„Of course.“ She led her boss’s wife to a booth in the corner.

Sitting, Sara abruptly asked, „Why did you think something was wrong with John?“

„You went to a lot of trouble to find me here. I just assumed… How did you find me?“

„Lois said you might be here. She said you were out of the office indefinitely.“

Kristen felt the sting, deep inside. „Yes, that’s true.“

„John is responsible.“ Sara’s eyes flashed with anger.

Bewildered, Kristen shook her head. „No, John’s boss made the call. John said he tried to keep him from putting me on leave, but Milt was determined.“

Sara’s lips curled. „Yeah, I’ll just bet John tried real hard.“

Kristen wasn’t sure how to respond to that. „Sara, what’s going on here?“

„Lieutenant Spinnelli’s office called this morning. A Detective Murphy said they were confirming alibis for everyone in John’s department for the nights those men were murdered. He asked about John.“

„That’s true, but it’s standard procedure. Lieutenant Spinnelli’s just making sure that they’ve looked at everyone who was involved in all those old cases. Is that what you’re worried about, Sara? I can tell you, nobody suspects John. He’s not involved in murder.“

„He lied,“ Sara said flatly. „John told Spinnelli’s man that he was home in bed with me. But he lied. He was with another woman. He thinks I sleep, but I know when he’s gone.“

Kristen sat back and drew a deep breath. John was on Spinnelli’s list of sharpshooters. She knew that. She’d also dismissed it as soon as she’d seen his name on the list. Not once had she entertained the notion that John Alden could be involved in murder. John went to great lengths to follow procedure. To ensure all the statutes were followed, that every convicted man was convicted legally. He was a good prosecutor.

But apparently a bad husband.

„Oh, Sara.“ To her dismay Sara’s eyes filled with tears. „I wish I knew what to say.“

Sara dug into her purse for a handkerchief. „He actually expected me to lie for him.“

„Did you?“

„No.“ Sara glared through her tears. „Well, not exactly. I told Detective Murphy that John never came to bed that night, that I couldn’t say for sure where he was.“

„But you know where he was?“ Kristen asked gently.

Sara pulled her fur collar high on her neck, gathering her composure. „He’s talked in his sleep for years, Kristen. He says all kinds of things. Sometimes things I shouldn’t hear, but I’ve been a good wife all these years and haven’t shared any of his confidences.“

Kristen’s eyes widened at the implications. „He talks about cases in his sleep?“

„Among other things.“

„He said the other woman’s name in his sleep?“

„He did. Have you wondered how Zoe Richardson found out about the letters addressed to you, Kristen? About how he signs the letters ‘Your Humble Servant’?“ Kristen’s mouth fell open. „He muttered about it,“ Sara said softly, „in his sleep, a few nights after all this started, so I’ve known. So did Zoe Richardson.“