It might mean nothing. It might mean everything. Making people uncomfortable was one of the best ways to dig out the truth.
She smiled and sat on the chair across from his desk and motioned for him to sit back down.
She made a point to look around the office again and not say anything. Silence made innocent people uncomfortable but guilty people nervous.
“So, um, Max, Grover said you were in town to cover Stan’s trial.”
“No,” she said.
He looked confused. “What? You’re not?”
“When Grover asked me to help him navigate Victoria’s murder investigation, I was happy to help—from afar. I have a colleague here to handle the fieldwork. But when Stan recanted his confession, I’ll admit, that intrigued me. And when I become curious, I like to do the work myself.”
He leaned forward as if he thought she would continue. After a moment, she said, “How difficult has it been for you with both Victoria and Stan gone?”
“What kind of question is that? Victoria is dead. She was murdered.”
He didn’t say, Stan murdered Victoria.
More than interesting.
“That may have been insensitive of me,” Max said without remorse. She had intentionally framed the question in just the way she asked it to get a specific response, only his response revealed far more than she expected. “I was thinking about your business; MCG is very successful, but there were three of you running it—jeez, how long? Ten, twelve years?”
“Fifteen years. Before Victoria and I were married.”
He looked at a photo on his desk.
She didn’t let manners stop her. She reached over and turned the photo so she could see.
The picture wasn’t of their wedding but appeared to be taken at the rehearsal dinner—based on the attire and who was in the picture. Victoria and Mitch were front and center. Stan stood next to Mitch, and they were both laughing. Simon was in the photo, as well as Victoria’s much younger brother, who was now a doctor in Austin. Victoria was tipsy and looked happy, her arm around another woman who also looked tipsy and happy. She looked familiar, Max probably met her at the wedding but didn’t recall her name.
Mitch took the photo from her hand and put it back, adjusting it exactly as it was before.
“Happier times,” Max said.
If she believed that her best friend had killed the woman she loved, no way would she have his photo on her desk. Because even though Mitch and Victoria divorced, they were friends. Max wondered if he still loved her. Which made her wonder, not for the first time, why they divorced in the first place.
“What do you want from me, Max?” he asked quietly. “You asked how things are? They suck. I’ve been putting in twelve-, fourteen-hour days because of the work just to manage the clients we have. The staff walks on eggshells because no one knows what to say to me and I don’t know what to say to them. I’m weary. Tired. Lonely.”
“Why did Stan call you this afternoon?”
He stared at her, but didn’t deny it. “None of your business.”
“I’m sure the police will ask you the same thing,” Max said. She’d suggested that Sean return Marie’s phone to her so the police could conduct their own investigation, but it was very nice having the information before the police did.
“Why would they?”
“Because very few people knew that Stan had been released on bail. Simon, because he was there in the courthouse during the hearing. You, because Stan called you. His lawyer, me, his sister. And one other person he called after you. Spoke with you for two minutes, then three minutes to someone else. Untraceable number—for now. But the police have resources. So do I. Stan called you first, and I want to know why.”
“I don’t have to tell you anything, Maxine. Nothing. It’s personal between me and Stan.”
“Convenient, if he dies. You can say it was about anything. You can even say he confessed to you, maybe with the purpose of shutting down any further investigation.”
“You’re making no sense.”
“Do you think Stan killed Victoria? I have my doubts, but I can be convinced.”
“I—” He was torn. He hadn’t expected her to ask him. He cleared his throat. “I don’t know,” he said.
She couldn’t tell if he was lying. Either he was an amazing liar—definite possibility, considering how he was obfuscating the entire conversation—or he was truly not certain.
“Was Stan gambling again?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re not on a witness stand, Mitch. I’ll take your opinion on the matter, weigh it accordingly.”
“This feels like a goddamn interrogation.”
“I’m going to find out exactly what happened to Victoria. If Stan killed her, I’ll figure it out. I might not be able to prove it in a court of law, but I don’t need a court of law to give Grover and Judith peace of mind. If Stan didn’t kill her, I’ll find out who did. You don’t know me well, Mitch, but I don’t give up.”
“Well, good then. You figure out whether Stan was lying then, or is lying now. Good luck with that, especially if he dies.” His voice cracked.
Stan’s shooting had really gotten to him. Max didn’t quite know what to make of it, but he seemed to be genuinely emotional. That didn’t mean he didn’t know something more about it, and it didn’t mean that he didn’t set his friend up. But guilt … guilt was a complex emotion, and people felt guilty over a myriad of things, some small, some big.
If Mitch honestly believed that Stan killed Victoria, would he be so upset about the shooting? Maybe.
It didn’t feel right.
“I don’t have time for your games, Maxine.”
“I don’t play games.”
He laughed. “You’re a piece of work. I hope you’re more sensitive with Grover than you are with me.”
“If Stan didn’t kill Victoria, who do you think did? Someone must have had a reason. And Victoria wasn’t close to many people, her life revolved around this business, according to her parents.”
“I thought it was a robbery until Stan confessed,” he said. “Then I didn’t know what to think.”
“There was nothing taken from the house, according to the police reports.” Yet … what if something was taken that the homeowners didn’t want the police to know about? Or what if something was taken from Victoria herself?
Sean had run a background on the homeowners of the stately home in Alamo Heights that Victoria had listed, where she had been killed. They were out of the country at the time of the murder, but what if they weren’t as squeaky clean as Sean said they were?
Sean was good, but it was only a cursory background. Max would ask him to dig deeper because maybe they’d missed something. She doubted it, but investigations meant going over every possibility from every angle, layer after layer, until every truth was known.
Mitch said, “Look, Max, I appreciate that you came all this way to give Victoria’s parents peace of mind. But you should let the system handle this.”
“And if Stan dies? What then? Are you content with not knowing whether he killed Victoria? Whether he was blackmailed or threatened into making a false confession?”