Free Dead File by Kelly Lange Page B

woman. And if you still think that person is Gillian’s killer, and Sandie’s attacker.”
    “I can’t, Maxi.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because the police told me not to. You saw them that day, the chief as well as the detectives. They want to keep the details hushed so they can nail him with stuff that only he would know.”
    “Then it
is
a he.”
    “Okay, yes, it was a man.”
    “Just tell me if you think the person who broke into your house is the person who attacked Sandie Schaeffer and killed your wife.”
    “Yes. I do.”
    “How did he get in through your locked doors? And past the help, and upstairs into your bedroom?”
    “Can’t tell you that.”
    “This is exasperating. What about our deal?”
    Carter smiled. “This was privileged information before we made our deal,” he said. “Seriously, Maxi, the detectives warned me to tell nobody the answers to the questions you’re asking. Especially not the media.”
    “Okay, then make it up to me. Give me a statement on camera about the attack on Sandie. Your thoughts about it.”
    “Sure,” he said. That surprised her.
    “Good. I’ll call my cameraman up here.” She reached for her cell phone.
    “Wait on that,” he said. “The police are going to let me know when they’re ready to do the press briefing, and I don’t want to miss it. Believe me, I’m as interested as you are in what they’ll have to say. We’ll go down to the lobby together when they’re ready.”
    “Then afterward you’ll give me a statement?”
    “Yes, but not out front. I don’t want the rest of the news vultures all over me. We’ll go inside, into one of the ground-floor conference rooms, and lock the door.”
    “Perfect,” Maxi said.

17
    A nd at this time we have no other leads on Ms. Schaeffer’s attacker,” Sergeant Carlos Salinger was saying. Salinger was one of the LAPD detectives who had been at Carter Rose’s house two days ago when he held his news conference. Maxi threw out a question: “Is your investigation encompassing the death of Gillian Rose and the attempted attack on Carter Rose?”
    “Yes,” Salinger responded. “We’ve teamed up on the cases.” Maxi assumed that Salinger was the lead. “And have you come up with any evidence?” was her follow-up.
    “On the Gillian Rose death, Ms. Poole, we have no indication of foul play, as you already know. And on the Carter Rose B-and-E there’s nothing we can release at this time. As for the attack on Ms. Schaeffer, we’re saying only that we believe it to be an inside event, perpetrated by someone she knew, someone with access to this building on a twenty-four-hour basis. We’ll be canvassing the guards who were on duty through the night and checking their logbook to see who came and went, and we’ll be talking to company personnel.”
    “Do you know who Mr. Rose’s would-be attacker was?” piped up a reporter from Channel Four.
    “We’re not at liberty to divulge that,” said Salinger.
    “Why not?” came from several in the media crowd.
    Salinger and his partner, Detective Donald Barnett, exchanged exasperated looks. They were never required to explain to journalists their reasons for withholding information from the press, and the reporters knew that. Salinger signaled an end to the briefing, which was remarkable only in its paucity of information.
    Maxi turned to Carter Rose. “Shall we?” she asked.
    “Okay,” he said, and he turned and headed for the doors into the building. Maxi followed, with Lemke trailing her, lugging his equipment.
    When they were set up inside the conference room and Lemke was rolling, Maxi warmed up with a softball. “Mr. Rose, your reaction to the attack on Ms. Schaeffer?”
    “I’m devastated,” he started, and he went on to extol the woman’s virtues, her consummate skills, her many duties and accomplishments, her longtime loyalty to the company, the respect and affection for her held by all of her colleagues, and so on. Maxi patiently let him