The Perfect Liar (Last Stand 5)

She had to laugh. "Well, I'm not dissembling or prevaricating or fabricating."

"You've been holding back, too," he said with a whistle. "I'm impressed."

"I'm glad. Does that mean we can stop arguing?" There was no point in trying to convince him she was right, because she wasn't. She couldn't hand the houseboat back to her father, not without plenty of notice. Now that her mother was in prison, Chuck Bixby was all she had. Distant though he'd always been, at least in an emotional sense, she was taking it upon herself to bridge the gap between them, to build what she could out of the tattered remnants of her family. That meant she couldn't rock the boat--in her case, the houseboat.

"We're not arguing. We're ratiocinating, " he said.

"Ra...what?" She got up to put her gum wrapper in the garbage.

"Ratiocinating." He offered her a smug smile. "It means to reason methodically and logically."

She raised one hand as she returned to her seat. "Fine, smart-ass.

I've got one for you. Quit being a polemical ass**le, okay? Now, can we get on with business?"

He scratched his head. "The ass**le part I definitely understand...."

"Forget it!" She opened her file on Kalyna Harter. "What have you learned about Captain Trussell?"

Jonathan made a clicking sound with his tongue. "I hate to tell you this, babe, but you've got the wrong guy."

"What?"

"The Luke Trussell you had me run could be a Boy Scout. I don't know what more there is to say."

"His record is that clean?"

"Two speeding tickets in three years. That's it."

"No previous arrests? No DUIs?"

"No assault and battery. No domestic abuse. No disturbin' the peace.

No freakin' skateboarding in the park."

"Have you talked to his friends, enemies, previous lovers?"

"I couldn't find any enemies. I got hold of two women he's dated in the past. One said he took her out a few times, but never tried to sleep with her. When I asked why, she told me he didn't want to make a commitment.

He was only twenty-four at the time, wasn't ready."

"And the other one?"

"Paris Larsen. Captain Trussell dated her for more than a year. And she admitted right up-front that he was the best lover she could imagine.

Kind and gentle. Those were her words. He broke off the relationship eighteen months ago, but if I had my bet, she's stil in love with him and would take him back in a heartbeat. And this woman is a clothes designer who's now living in San Francisco and making a name for herself.

Completely credible, very sharp."

"He's a kind and gentle lover?" Ava echoed. "My client claims he used his fists on her, and then he raped her. Does that sound kind and gentle to you?"

"You're forgetting the alleged part."

"Why would my client lie?"

"I don't know, but Trussell has a flawless service record. And get this--he was valedictorian at his high school."

Ava wasn't sure what to make of this information. So far, she'd heard her client portrayed as a tramp, and the accused as a model citizen. "So, what's up? Did he drink too much and let his libido get out of control?"

"This wasn't about libido, Ava. Whoever attacked Kalyna Harter was angry."

The phone rang, but it was after-hours so Ava let it go to voice mail.

"Maybe she really pissed him off. She could've hit him first or belittled him in some way." She tilted her head quizzically. "Maybe she made fun of his package."

"From what his ex-girlfriend had to say, I'm guessing his package is nothing to be embarrassed about. I doubt it's as impressive as mine, but you know...not bad."

"You're too much." She grinned in spite of the serious nature of their conversation. "He was drunk the night he attacked Kalyna. Alcohol alters behavior."

"Bar-hopping isn't a pattern of conduct. None of the places I visited recognized his picture."

She could've argued that anyone could get drunk and act up, even if it wasn't a pattern. But something Jonathan had said caught her attention.

"You have his picture?"

He pulled a photograph from his back pocket. "Courtesy of Paris Larsen," he said, and slid it across her desk.

She studied the clean-cut man staring back at her. He had nice, even features and a great smile, but it was difficult to make out the finer details of his face because he was outdoors at a baseball game, wearing a ball cap, a pair of sunglasses and a windbreaker. "What about steroids? Is he into weight lifting?"

"He lifts, but he hasn't been to a civilian doctor or pharmacy in six years. He gets regular checkups at the military hospital, and that's it."

"I would imagine, because of his job, there's some mandatory drug testing going on."

"There is. He's tested randomly. Al his tox screens have come back clean."

Ava refused to give up so easily. Kalyna's past exploits meant she'd have a very small chance of obtaining justice. If Trussell was actually guilty, she thought, but she didn't want to consider the possibility that she'd been played. She hadn't believed Bella, either, and Bella had been telling the truth. She'd left Bella friendless and depressed enough to resort to the most desperate of measures..."There are other ways to get steroids."

"Trussell lifts to stay in shape, like he plays basketball," Jonathan said. "He's not a bodybuilder."

She drummed her fingers on the desk. "Why would such a smart, successful, clean-living guy suddenly flip out and rape a woman--especially so violently?"

"That's my point," Jonathan said. "I don't think he did."

But he could have. And if she hoped to help Kalyna--hoped to avoid another tragedy like Bella's--she needed to know for sure.

"Then there's Technical Sergeant O'Dell," Jonathan went on.

She set Trussell's picture aside. "Who's Technical Sergeant O'Dell?"

"According to the bartender, Trussell was hanging out with him at the Moby Dick."

"What about him?"

"He says our supposed victim is nothing but a two-bit whore out to hurt someone. He was furious when I told him she's accusing Trussell of rape."

"Whores can be raped, too. They have the right to say no if they want to," Ava said, clinging stubbornly to her belief in Kalyna's tears, to her own determination to protect the weak and powerless. Because Bella was a stripper, no one would believe she'd been raped. It wasn't until two months after she'd kil ed herself that the truth came out. That was when the man she'd accused struck again--and strangled his next victim.