Notorious by Allison Brennan Read Free Book Online

Monday morning?”
    “I’ll call you.”, but she had fd is
    Max would be here first thing Monday morning if she couldn’t track down the detective on her own. She wasn’t going to rely on the PIO to make contact.
    A young plainclothes assistant came out and handed Corbett a file.
    “What do I owe you?” Max asked, pulling out her wallet.
    “Seventy-five cents.”
    Max fished out three quarters from her wallet and took the papers. As she was thanking Corbett for her time, the door leading from the squad room opened. A squat detective emerged and glared at Max with small, hate-filled eyes.
    “I didn’t believe you’d actually show up here.”
    Though Detective Harry Beck had more weight and less hair than when he’d taken the stand during Kevin’s trial, Max recognized him immediately. Then he’d intimidated her with his blunt hatred of Kevin and disdain for her—because she’d taken the stand as a character witness. Today, he didn’t have the same effect. She’d met cops like Harry Beck in virtually every jurisdiction she’d investigated a case. However, Beck could be a problem in her getting information from the department.
    “Nice to see you again, Detective.”
    He snorted. “What does she want?” he asked Corbett as if Max had already left.
    Corbett was slow on the uptake, watching the exchange. Max answered the question instead. “Kevin O’Neal’s death investigation report.”
    Beck’s face darkened. “The fucker killed himself. I wish he’d done it thirteen years ago and saved the state a ton of money, but he should never have walked free to begin with.”
    Max had many things she wanted to say to the bastard, but she fought her temper and said to the PIO, “Thank you for your time, Officer Corbett.”
    She wanted to leave before a confrontation, but Beck wouldn’t let it go.
    “You’re not here to dredge up shit? Of course you are,” he answered his own question. “That’s what you are. A shit disturber. I swear to you, Maxine, if you cause any grief for the Ames family, I’ll arrest you. Your privileged ass wouldn’t last a night in prison.”
    Max bit her tongue. She wanted to lash out at the brash detective, but she understood the consequences. In her early career, she hadn’t always been so controlled. She’d spent several nights in jail over the years for butting heads with the wrong cop. She survived the ordeals quite well—even wrote an award-winning article about the rights of reporters to protect their sources.
    Harry Beck was definitely the wrong cop.
    Using all her well-earned—and well-learned—self-control, Max walked out, catching only part of Corbett’s comment before the door shut.
    “Why are you giving her ammo—”
    Max could predict the conversation. Corbett was young; she hadn’t been with the Menlo Park Police Department thirteen years ago when they caught the murder investigation of Lindy Ames in neighboring Atherton. Corbett may know who the Revere family was; she may in fact know that Max was an investigative crime journalist. But she likely didn’t know that Max had been friends with both the victim and the number one suspect—the only suspect—in Lindy’s murder.
    Beck would be giving her an earful">Max raised an eyebrow. . f. And she and either be so intimidated by Beck and his threats that she wouldn’t lift a finger to help Max, or she’d be ticked off that he yelled at her and go out of her way to help Max.
    Max, of course, hoped for the latter.
    She sat in her rental car, under a magnolia tree, and calmed down. She may have walked out without reacting to Beck, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t affected her.
    Harry Beck had been in his late thirties when he was the lead detective on Lindy’s murder. He’d interviewed all her peers, her family, and Kevin. He’d been the one who arrested Kevin and had been one hundred percent confident of his guilt.
    Years of experience and meeting hundreds of law enforcement officers in jurisdictions