you to explain yourself, not smart off.”
Claudia stared at him.
“Wait here,” he said. “And don’t touch that blood.” He got up and strode out of the room, returning a moment later with a young woman who awkwardly approached the sofa with him.
“This is Daleesha,” Jovanic said. “She’s a crime scene technician and she’s going to swab the blood on your face.”
“So you can make sure it’s Ivan’s blood?”
“I see you’ve been watching Forensic Files,” Jovanic said, and Claudia wasn’t sure whether he was being sarcastic, or it was an attempt at humor. “We’re also going to need a blood sample from you, to rule you out. You can come down to the lab to do that.”
The technician showed Claudia a cotton swab. “It’ll just take a sec,” she said, reaching forward to swipe it across Claudia’s cheek. “Okay, got it. Thanks.” She dropped the swab in a paper bag, sealed it and wrote something on the seal, then nodded to Jovanic and left.
Detective Jovanic sat down beside Claudia and took a clean linen handkerchief from his pocket, offering it to her. She took it with reluctance and scrubbed at her face, stunned at being considered a suspect, even though she understood that he was following standard procedure.
“Thanks,” she said begrudgingly. “I’ll have it cleaned.”
“Not necessary,” Jovanic said, then returned to his earlier question. “Can you think of anyone who might want to harm Mr. Novak?”
She thought of the threatening note she’d found in Lindsey’s files. Ivan had rejected her suggestion that it might be connected to Lindsey’s death, but it seemed too much of a coincidence to ignore. “There was a letter that I discussed with Ivan this morning,” she began. “He said it was from a former employee who had been fired for sexual harassment. I told him that the guy was dangerous. He disagreed and tore the letter up.”
“Dangerous? How did you reach that conclusion?”
“From his handwriting. I’m a graphologist as well as a document examiner. There were a lot of red flags in the writing.”
Jovanic’s neutral expression puckered into scorn. “ Graphology? Come on, Ms. Rose, you don’t expect me to believe that BS, do you?”
Claudia was used to dealing with skepticism and should have been prepared for his response, but her customary aplomb deserted her. She sprang up from the sofa, her hands balled into tight fists. “I really don’t give a shit whether you believe it or not.”
Before she knew what was happening, he was on his feet, scowling down at her. Claudia’s pulse raced with a mixture of emotions, but she’d be damned if she would let him know he intimidated her. Like a cat puffing out its fur to scare off the enemy, she straightened her spine and tried to make her height work for her.
They glared at each other, the atmosphere thick with antagonism, neither willing to give way until Jovanic gave a short laugh. He backed up a step and took a business card from his jacket, scribbled something on the back. “Here, you can analyze this.”
Claudia snatched the card and thrust it into the pocket of her Levis without looking. “I don’t need to see your handwriting to know you’re being rude.”
Unexpectedly, he smiled. A nice smile that softened the lines around his mouth. What the hell was he doing? Playing good cop/bad cop, all by himself?
“Call me when you’ve had some sleep,” he said. “You’ll need to sign your statement once I’ve got it typed up.”
Chapter 11
The morning light and the shimmer of dawn on cold, blue water had sold her on the place. Sunrise cascading through the glass wall that fronted her office. Even when the marine layer obstructed the sun, the light was there to give her a lift. But today, when morning arrived—far too early after a night far too short—the light battered the backs of her eyes.
She would have slept on but for the intrusion of the ringing telephone. When pulling the pillow over
Claudia stared at him.
“Wait here,” he said. “And don’t touch that blood.” He got up and strode out of the room, returning a moment later with a young woman who awkwardly approached the sofa with him.
“This is Daleesha,” Jovanic said. “She’s a crime scene technician and she’s going to swab the blood on your face.”
“So you can make sure it’s Ivan’s blood?”
“I see you’ve been watching Forensic Files,” Jovanic said, and Claudia wasn’t sure whether he was being sarcastic, or it was an attempt at humor. “We’re also going to need a blood sample from you, to rule you out. You can come down to the lab to do that.”
The technician showed Claudia a cotton swab. “It’ll just take a sec,” she said, reaching forward to swipe it across Claudia’s cheek. “Okay, got it. Thanks.” She dropped the swab in a paper bag, sealed it and wrote something on the seal, then nodded to Jovanic and left.
Detective Jovanic sat down beside Claudia and took a clean linen handkerchief from his pocket, offering it to her. She took it with reluctance and scrubbed at her face, stunned at being considered a suspect, even though she understood that he was following standard procedure.
“Thanks,” she said begrudgingly. “I’ll have it cleaned.”
“Not necessary,” Jovanic said, then returned to his earlier question. “Can you think of anyone who might want to harm Mr. Novak?”
She thought of the threatening note she’d found in Lindsey’s files. Ivan had rejected her suggestion that it might be connected to Lindsey’s death, but it seemed too much of a coincidence to ignore. “There was a letter that I discussed with Ivan this morning,” she began. “He said it was from a former employee who had been fired for sexual harassment. I told him that the guy was dangerous. He disagreed and tore the letter up.”
“Dangerous? How did you reach that conclusion?”
“From his handwriting. I’m a graphologist as well as a document examiner. There were a lot of red flags in the writing.”
Jovanic’s neutral expression puckered into scorn. “ Graphology? Come on, Ms. Rose, you don’t expect me to believe that BS, do you?”
Claudia was used to dealing with skepticism and should have been prepared for his response, but her customary aplomb deserted her. She sprang up from the sofa, her hands balled into tight fists. “I really don’t give a shit whether you believe it or not.”
Before she knew what was happening, he was on his feet, scowling down at her. Claudia’s pulse raced with a mixture of emotions, but she’d be damned if she would let him know he intimidated her. Like a cat puffing out its fur to scare off the enemy, she straightened her spine and tried to make her height work for her.
They glared at each other, the atmosphere thick with antagonism, neither willing to give way until Jovanic gave a short laugh. He backed up a step and took a business card from his jacket, scribbled something on the back. “Here, you can analyze this.”
Claudia snatched the card and thrust it into the pocket of her Levis without looking. “I don’t need to see your handwriting to know you’re being rude.”
Unexpectedly, he smiled. A nice smile that softened the lines around his mouth. What the hell was he doing? Playing good cop/bad cop, all by himself?
“Call me when you’ve had some sleep,” he said. “You’ll need to sign your statement once I’ve got it typed up.”
Chapter 11
The morning light and the shimmer of dawn on cold, blue water had sold her on the place. Sunrise cascading through the glass wall that fronted her office. Even when the marine layer obstructed the sun, the light was there to give her a lift. But today, when morning arrived—far too early after a night far too short—the light battered the backs of her eyes.
She would have slept on but for the intrusion of the ringing telephone. When pulling the pillow over
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