Free See No Evil by Allison Brennan Page A

who she might have talked to about her feelings toward Victor. Verify her whereabouts yesterday, her state of mind. I’ll call around to see what kind of evidence Will and Gage have. I still have a few friends on the force.”
    “We should regroup tonight and compare notes, go from there.”
    “Can I see her now?” Julia asked, only half-listening to Dillon and Connor’s plans.
    Dillon nodded. “Yes, but then go home and get some sleep.”
    She just shook her head, then glanced at Connor. “Thank you.”
    Connor watched Julia enter Emily’s hospital room. The two men observed the young girl carefully. Her response to Julia was warm and tearful. They embraced and both women cried. Connor felt distinctly uncomfortable. He’d never thought Julia Chandler capable of real emotion. He knew she cared about Emily, though she’d played the runaway situation a lot differently than this.
    “Emily has been very forthcoming,” Dillon continued, “but there’s something she knows and either can’t remember or doesn’t want to say.”
    “I think you’re right.”
    Dillon said, “I was surprised to see you, considering your history with the counselor. Why are you doing this?”
    “I like the kid.” When Dillon didn’t say anything, Connor added, “I found Emily when she ran away. I didn’t know—she never let on what Victor had done to her.”
    “What was her state of mind back then?”
    “She was living on the streets. She was scared, tired, and using drugs. She cleaned up, promised she wouldn’t…” Connor sighed. “Maybe I just didn’t see the signs. I knew she didn’t want to go home. I should have found out why.”
    “Don’t beat yourself up over it, Connor. Julia’s guilt is enough for everyone.” Dillon paused. “Tread carefully.”
    “Don’t I always?” Connor smiled.
    “Can you say that with a straight face?”
    The outside door opened and Officer Diaz stepped into the observation room. Dillon asked, “What’s wrong?”
    “The press is all over the building. I just thought you’d want to know.”
    “Thanks,” Dillon said. “We’ll go out the doctors’ garage. It’s secure.”
    Connor watched Julia and Emily talking. He could barely make out what they were saying, but Julia was trying to convince the girl that she should have told her about the rape.
    “I would have taken care of it, honey.”
    “I was scared, Jules.”
    Jules.
He remembered Emily always called her that. Never “aunt.” More like an older sister. Friend. Confidante.
    But Emily hadn’t confided in anyone, and the pretty teenager was now the prime suspect in a murder case.

EIGHT
    D R. G ARRETT B OWEN WAS a renowned leader in anger management. Expert witness and oft-appointed court psychiatrist, he handled an array of celebrity and charity cases, from the rich to the poor and every stripe in between.
    Dillon didn’t have time to read Bowen’s numerous publications in every major psychiatric journal, but he wasn’t surprised to see Bowen was a minor celebrity in his own right with a two-book deal, the first of which was being published in three months:
Exploit Your Anger for Health, Wealth and Happiness.
    While Bowen handled some charity cases—and made a big deal about them—his client list favored the wealthy. Upon arriving at Bowen’s suite of offices, Dillon took note of the opulence, the fine art and rare antiques complementing the predominately modern decor. The only personal effects on Dr. Bowen’s desk were several framed photographs of his family—a lovely wife with a teenaged son. Dillon remembered reading a while back that Bowen was a widower. Another picture was of a beautiful woman of about forty and Bowen on a yacht, another an older picture of Bowen as a very young man with who appeared to be his parents and sister.
    Dr. Bowen himself looked the part of quiet wealth—in his midforties, manicured hands, expensive yet business-casual attire, hair graying perfectly at the temple. Dillon