Raven: A political thriller by J.J. Franck Page B

either.”
    “You check with Schmidt already?” Don asked.
    “Yeah, we figured he had her body.”
    “How much blood are you talking about?”
    “Major bleeding, that’s what I’m talking about.”
    Don looked again at the Merry Maid bill. “They were here Monday
morning.”
    “Yeah.”
    “Maybe she had a friend who cut themselves.”
    “With that amount of blood, you’d think stitches were required.”
    “You sure?” Don asked.
    “Trust me. I know a bleeder when I see it, and this required
stitches.”
    Don turned to Fred and shook his head. He knew what he had to do now.
He was going to enjoy this interrogation. The fine doctor may have felt he had
one up on him, not realizing that evidence was left behind. Now he would have
some explaining to do.
    “Maybe we better get Dr. VanBuren down to the station.”
    “He’s not going to like this,” Fred said.
    “And your point being?”
    Don had one of the mischievous smiles across his face that he got when
dealing with someone who thought they had the upper hand. He pulled the card
out of his pocket and handed it to Fred.
    “Call him and set up the meeting,” Don said as he glanced at his
watch. “My turf this time. Tell him to meet us at the station house at four,”
Don ordered and then turned back to Jack. “Anything else I should know?”
    Jack shrugged. “No.”
    Don walked past Jack and into the living room. He glanced up at the
portrait. Fred walked up behind Don.
    “Maybe they’d sell it to you.”
    Don turned suddenly to Fred. “Very funny!” he mustered up to say.
    Don just turned and stalked off. As much as he so desperately wanted
the portrait, he knew in the end it would only destroy his sanity because every
day he looked at it, it would be a reminder of how violently her life ended.
And there was nothing he could do to make it right, other than catch the person
who did that to her.
    * * *
    Dr. VanBuren sat in the interrogation room with Mr. Leslie, his
attorney, for nearly an hour before Don made his presence known. The dirty
walls were covered with the grime of the years of criminals who sat in that
very room. Once Don entered the room he sat on the other side of the table. He
set the folder down. He wanted to open it so that Dr. VanBuren could see what
remained of his daughter. He wanted to see the pain in the old man’s face. He
wanted to cause excruciating pain like he felt in his own heart. But he knew he
dare not, for fear he would be taken off the case. For that reason he kept the
folder closed. Right now he had to work on getting Dr. VanBuren to trust him.
    The long mirror that filled the far wall hid Fred and the Chief, who
wanted to watch Don in action. Don had one of the highest closure rates in the
station house, and others sought out his strategies for getting people to talk.
    “Well, do you have anything you want to tell me?” Don asked, finally
glancing up at the two.
    “My client doesn’t have to answer that,” Mr. Leslie snapped. He was protecting
his client, as attorneys do when they come to the interrogation room. And
judging by Mr. Leslie’s demeanor, this wasn’t the first time he had been there.
    “I want to know who he stitched up at his daughter’s house last
weekend?”
    Mr. Leslie motioned with his hand for Dr. VanBuren to be silent, but
Dr. VanBuren just shoved his hand aside. There had been too much riding on this
to stand in silence any longer. Right now he feared for the Senator’s life. And
given what happened last night, he wasn’t so sure what they were doing was for
the good of all. He just wanted it all to end. He didn’t care what they did to
him because he didn’t report a gunshot wound to the authorities.
    “It’s got to end. Willie was seriously hurt,” Dr. VanBuren snapped.
    “Senator Maxfield?” Don asked.
    Fred suddenly leaned forward as he watched Don’s expression and the
relief on the doctor’s face. Mr. Leslie was clearly the only one upset by this
revelation as he tried to