Genuine Lies

throat. “Maybe you could just break his arm.”
    “Okay.” His arms tightened so suddenly around her, she gasped. “We’re going to be all right,” he murmured against her hair.
    They fell asleep like that, cuddled on the couch, tangled together, and fully dressed. The knock on the door at a little after six had them jerking awake and blinking at each other.
    They went into the kitchen. Frank took a seat while Julia put a skillet on the range. “I have some good news and some bad news,” he began. “The bad news is the D.A.’s not ready to drop the charges.”
    Julia said nothing, only pulled a carton of eggs out of the refrigerator.
    “The good news is the investigation’s been blown wideopen again. Haffner’s statement is working in your favor. We need to check out some points, prove the connection to Kincade. It would have been nice if old Rusty had taken a look in the window himself, since Morrison isn’t going to be telling anyone what he saw that day. But the fact that they were there at all throws a pretty heavy wrench in the works. The biggest factors against you were the timing, and the fact that everyone else inside had an alibi. If we buy Haffner’s story, both those factors are wiped.”
    “If,” Julia repeated.
    “Listen, the creep would like to recant. He’s pretty pissed that you set him up, but he also knows the score. It’s going to be tougher on him if he isn’t cooperative. Now, the D. A.’d like to blow his statement apart, but it hangs together. Once we establish that he was being square about working for Kincade, about following you, the D.A.’s going to have to swallow the rest. Morrison was on the estate at the time of the murder, he saw something, now he’s dead.” He gave a sigh of appreciation as Paul set a mug of coffee in front of him. “We’re working on getting his phone records. It’d be interesting to see who he talked to since the murder.”
    They were talking about murder, Julia thought. And the bacon was sizzling, coffee was steaming. Just outside the window a bird was perched on the deck rail, singing as though its life depended on it.
    Three thousand miles away, Brandon was in school, tackling fractions or taking a spelling test. There was a comfort in that, she realized. In knowing that life went on in its steady, unhurried cycle even while hers spun inside the whole on a skewed orbit.
    “You’re working awfully hard to help me pull out of this.” Julia set the bacon aside to drain.
    “I don’t like working against my gut.” Frank had added just enough milk to his coffee to keep it from scalding his tongue. He sipped and let the hot caffeine slide into his system. “And I’ve got this personal resistance to seeing anybody get away with murder. Your mother was a terrific lady.”
    Julia thought of both of them. The dedicated lawyer whohad still found time to bake cookies or fix a hem. The dynamic actress who had grabbed at life with both hands. “Yes, she was. How do you want yours eggs, Lieutenant?”
    “Over hard,” he said, smiling back at her. “Hard as a rock. I picked up one of your books. The one on Dorothy Rogers. You had some amazing stuff in there.”
    Julia broke eggs into the skillet and watched the whites bubble. “She’d had some amazing experiences.”
    “Well, for someone who interrogates people for a living, I’d like to know your trick.”
    “There’s no trick, really. When you talk to people they never forget you’re a cop. Most of what I do is just listening, so they get caught up in their own story and forget all about me, and the tape recorder.”
    “If you ever marketed those tapes, you’d make a fortune. What do you do with them after you’ve finished?”
    She flipped the eggs over, quietly pleased when the yolks held firm. “File them. The tapes aren’t much good without the stories that connect them.”
    Paul set his own mug down with a clatter. “Wait a minute.”
    Turning, a platter piled with food in her hand, Julia watched him rush out of the kitchen.
    “Don’t worry.” Frank rose to take the platter from her. “I’ll eat his share.”
    Five minutes later, Paul was calling from the top of the stairs. “Frank, I want you to take a look at this.”
    Grumbling, Frank piled more bacon on his plate and took it with him. Julia was right behind, a mug of coffee in each hand.
    Paul was in his office, standing in front of the television, watching Eve. “Thanks.” He took a mug from Julia, then