Compulsion (Max Revere Novels Book 2) by Allison Brennan

one—where evidence was tenuous at best—she would. Because she knew and trusted Sally.
    For the first time she thought they would finally get answers as to what had happened to the Palazzolos.
    “Will there be any evidence of their bodies left?” she asked.
    “Depending on the environment, the chances are that there will be some remains. Unless the killer kept the chemical reaction going over a day or two, or stored them in a small, airtight space, there’s going to be something to test. Bone will dissolve, but not completely. Teeth are especially durable. DNA can be extracted from teeth.”
    “How do you know all that?”
    He tilted his head. “I’m well-read, dear Max.”
    She smiled, then sobered up when she looked back at her time line. At the photos of the Palazzolos and the other five victims.
    “Maybe something in their car will point to Bachman as the killer.”
    “Maybe he didn’t do it.”
    “He did.” Max was certain. Bachman and his unknown partner.
    “If the police can’t prove it, at least the family will know for certain what happened to their parents.”
    “That might be all we can get.” Max sat on her couch, staring just beyond David at her wall.
    “You don’t say that like you mean it.”
    “I’m not going to let it go that easily.”
    He leaned back against her desk and crossed his arms. “I didn’t think you would.”
    “When we find the car, I’ll find a way to twist Bachman around until he spills it.”
    David said, “Play me the tape of your interview with Bachman.”
    Max got up and walked over to her desk. She’d downloaded the file earlier to her computer. She enhanced the sound, hoping David could catch all Bachman’s whispers. But without his facial expressions, his voice was flat.
    Still, David didn’t say anything as he listened.
    When the interview was over, Max had the same impression she had while she’d listened to Bachman in person: he was smart, manipulative, and hadn’t acted alone.
    “Max,” David said, “promise me you won’t go anywhere alone.”
    “For the rest of my life?” she said flippantly.
    “If that’s what it takes. You’re right about this.”
    “I usually am,” she teased. She didn’t like the dark look on David’s already hardened face.
    “Dammit, Maxine, I’m serious. We’ve gone round and round about whether Bachman had a partner, and while your theory made sense, there was no evidence. None. But he knew the sodium hydroxide container had been found, and the only way he could know is if he had someone on the outside who saw the police in the area. He knew when to call you for the interview. That makes him a lot smarter than I gave him credit for.”
    “If it makes you feel any better, I never underestimated him. Had he not been slowed down by the accident on the Queensboro Bridge, Ava Raines would be dead today, and no one would have suspected Adam Bachman.”
    “But the police don’t believe he worked with anyone, and unless I can convince Sally O’Hara—who seems to be the only person in the NYPD who doesn’t hate you—that he has a partner, the partner gets off scot-free. He could see you as a threat, especially after you air the show on the murders.”
    “I’m sure I have one or two other friends in NYPD.”
    “For shit’s sake, Maxine!” He slapped his hand on her desk. “Take me seriously!”
    She opened her mouth to argue, then closed it. Finally she said, “David, I do take you seriously.”
    “They drew you in.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I mean that if that time line is accurate, and Bachman called you because the sodium hydroxide had been found, that means they intentionally drew you into whatever game they’re playing.”
    “I was already invested in the Palazzolos. Long before I sat down with Bachman. Before I even suspected he was responsible.”
    David’s face was still firm, so she added, “The good news is I’ll be safe at the courthouse all week and Sally will be searching for the