At the thought of David, who was probably storming up and down the hall outside, she felt a flutter in her stomach. Sooner or later she’d have to face him again. Probably after she’d failed to secure bail for this truculent little jerk in front of her. She had a history of failure when it came to David. History did tend to repeat itself.
“All right,” she said quietly. “I assume this means that you really want to spend the next twenty-five years of your life in Parchman Penitentiary which, from everything I hear, is the garden spot of the universe. Assuming they don’t execute you, that is.”
“I didn’t do anything!” Jason wailed. And now there was fear. His face broke out in a sheen of sweat. His hands stopped playing Mozart and clenched tight to keep them from trembling. “She was alive when I left her.”
“After you’d made love?”
“Yes. Okay, yes.”
“Where?”
“In the back seat of my car, where else?” He’d recovered some of his truculence, but now Kate knew that it was an act. He really was a scared kid. With David’s eyes.
“Always worked for me,” Arnold said.
Kate glanced over at him in surprise. She couldn’t conceive of an Arnold young enough and wild enough to make love in the back seat of a car. He caught her glance, shrugged and grinned.
“The D.A. is saying you raped her.”
“Get real. I mean, we’d been messing around since the tenth grade. Why would I suddenly have to rape her? They got semen?”
“You leave any?”
“Nah. Always use a condom. Listen, I go to Pepperdine.”
“Malibu?”
“Right. I always practice safe sex. In California you’d be crazy not to.” He clammed up suddenly.
“With your girlfriend at Pepperdine.”
“I never said I had a girlfriend at Pepperdine.”
“But you do, don’t you? More than one, maybe? Was that what the argument with Waneath was about? Another girl?”
He looked up and then to his right. “Yeah.”
You’re lying
, Kate thought. Whatever they had fought about, that wasn’t it. Or not all of it, at any rate.
Pulling information from him was like dentistry with fence pliers.
At the end of twenty minutes, Kate leaned back and rubbed the muscles along the tops of her shoulders.
“All right. Now, your story is that you had an argument over a possible girlfriend or girlfriends at Pepperdine, and moved it to your car, where, in the course of the rest of the evening, you made up. You then moved to the back seat where you had sex—dutifully protected by a condom. Then she began to make demands that you dump the girlfriends in California, which you refused to do. So she got out of the car and began walking home. By that time you were half-smashed on the beer you had brought along—a lovely DUI to add to the charges, by the way, both dangerous and nitwitted—and you were mad at her. So you drove off and left her to walk home alone.”
“Hey, I came back, didn’t I?”
“So you say. You say you drove around, parked until you were semisober, then realized you couldn’t leave Waneath walking along a back road after midnight, no matter how you felt about her, so you drove to where you’d left her.”
“But she was gone. I drove up and down a couple of times and called her name. I figured she’d hitched a ride with somebody.”
“So you went home to your grandfather’s house and went to bed without bothering to call her house to find out whether or not she’d gotten home safely. Quite the little gentleman.”
“Hey, her daddy would have skinned me alive if I’d called at one in the morning. I mean, nothing ever happens around here. I wasn’t worried.”
“Not until they dragged you out of bed at your grandfather’s and arrested you for her murder.”
“I keep telling you. I didn’t do it.”
Suddenly Kate had had enough. “Fine. We’re trying to set up a bail hearing for you this afternoon.”
“I’m going home?”
“I have no idea. They’re going to try like crazy to keep you. In the meantime, I’ll get the guards to let you shower and shave.”
“In this place?” Jason curled his lip. “I’ll wait until I get home. I might drop the soap.” He grinned at her with an attempt at insouciance that didn’t quite conceal the terror he obviously felt. “I’m already being screwed over this murder stuff. Once is enough.”
After Otis had taken Jason back to his cell, Arnold turned to Kate.
“You’ve got to face him, you know. And I’m not talking about Jason.”
“We need to talk to the district attorney or whoever passes for one in this godforsaken place,” she said as they left the interview room and went into the hallway.
“You need some lunch.”
“Not with David.”
“I don’t know where to eat in this town. He does.”
“Then not alone. You come too.”
At the far end of the hall, David stood silhouetted with his hands in his pockets. He stared up through the grimy window at the increasingly gray November skies. The little light that filtered through struck his hair like a nimbus.
“Always find the hot spot,” Kate breathed.
“Huh?” Arnold asked.
“David would find a spotlight to stand under in the Black Hole of Calcutta.”
“Cut the man a little slack, Kate. He’s in big trouble with this kid of his.”
“And after twenty years, he’s still looking at me to bail him out of it. Well, David, as they say down here in Mississippi, that hound won’t hunt.”
CHAPTER TWO
“Y
ou SEE?” David said the moment he turned and saw them. “I told you Jason was innocent.”
“He’s lying through his teeth,” Kate said.
She saw the deep flush even under David’s tan.
“Jason’s not a liar, and he’s not a killer.”
“Maybe not a killer, but a liar? Oh, yeah.”
David turned and thrust his hands in his pockets. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, after all. Obviously you intend to take out whatever you feel about me on Jason.”
“How dare you,” Kate said softly. “You drag me down here on false pretenses to save your son’s precious hide, and then when I don’t think he’s Little Lord Fauntleroy the way you do, you accuse me of using him to get revenge on you? If I’d wanted revenge, I wouldn’t have waited twenty years for it.”
“Revenge is a dish best eaten cold. Didn’t somebody say that?”
“Somebody else said living well is the best revenge. I’ve already got my revenge, David. In case it’s escaped your attention, I am living extremely well without you. Come on, Arnold, we’re outa here.”
As she brushed past him, David caught her arm. Even after twenty years she’d have known the feel of his fingers against her body in a dark cavern. His touch awakened memories so powerful that she stumbled and almost fell. She righted herself with a hand against that filthy wall and yanked her arm out of his grasp.
“You promised to stay through the bail hearing,” he said. “I’m sorry if I upset you, but you must realize I’m going crazy over this.”
“And when you’re crazy, everybody around you goes nuts trying to make sure you don’t suffer.”
“Jason’s the one who’s suffering.”
“He’s not the one using emotional blackmail.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?” David asked.
“Yes. If I walk away, I’m supposed to feel guilty because I’m taking out my feelings for you on your innocent kid—isn’t that the way you phrased it? If I stay and don’t get a reasonable bail, then I’m not doing my job. Again because of you. It’s always because of you. You expect the Archangel Gabriel to ask if sounding the last trumpet on Tuesday will be quite convenient for you, or should he maybe wait until Thursday.”
Arnold intervened before David could reply. “Kate,” he said, “go get some lunch. It’s almost one and you haven’t had a bite since you got off the red-eye. Starvation does tend to turn you a bit testy.”
“Damn right I’m testy.”
“I don’t give a damn what you think about me,” David said. “The fact is that you’re a lawyer, you’re on retainer, and you’re here. You’re supposed to be good at what you do. So get my kid out on bail. Then we’ll talk about the rest of it.”
Kate stared at him with narrowed eyes for a moment. Then she relaxed. “Fair enough. I am very good at what I do, and I will do the bail hearing this afternoon. If you don’t like the outcome, blame the situation, the crime, the district attorney and the judge, not necessarily in that order. But don’t you ever accuse me of doing less than my best. The bail could be astronomical.”
“Thank you.” His shoulders sagged. “We’ll worry about the amount when we know what it is. At the moment, the important thing is to get Jason home.”
“After lunch,” Arnold said. “Kate’ll pass out if she doesn’t get something to eat.”
“Later, Arnold,” Kate said. “Right now I need to see the district attorney, find out what they’ve got on Jason, what I can use to bolster his character, review the forensics...” She realized she was talking as though she’d already taken the case.
David sighed in relief.
Trapped.
“Okay,” Kate said. “We’re hired and we’re here. But get this straight. I agree to stay through the bail hearing, period. Whatever happens, we get somebody else to take over after that.”
“I’ve already set up an interim affiliation with Whitman, Tarber and McDonough in Jackson,” Arnold said. “They’re the biggest law firm in Mississippi. I’m sure they’ll have someone who can represent you if you decide to go with a criminal lawyer closer to home.”
“I know Pinkney Tarber,” David said. “Seems like a good man. But he’s not who I want to represent Jason.” He turned to Kate. “I want you.”
“No can do.”
“We’ll discuss that over lunch.”
“I just told you—”
Arnold intervened. “I’ll go deal with the sheriff and the district attorney. Keep your cell phone on, Kate. I’ll let you know for certain if and when we go before the judge today. Don’t count on it. Could fall through.” He turned to David. “She’s right, you know, the kid’s lying about something. Don’t be an ass. Feed the lady. You need her. She does not need you.”
“Arnold,” Kate said menacingly. “You are going to join us for lunch, remember?”
He smiled at her blandly. “I had a late breakfast, and one of us has to do some work.” He shoved her gently in David’s direction. “It won’t kill you to have a simple little lunch. Go in health.”
As David propelled her toward the front door, she glowered at Arnold over her shoulder and mouthed, “That’s two you owe me.”
He wiggled his fingers at her.
Down the steps of the courthouse, across the street and past a block of grubby shops, Kate and David walked without a word to each other. She noticed several people staring at them as they passed, but nobody spoke. It was obvious that several people knew David and were deliberately avoiding meeting his eyes. She glanced at him. His jaw was set, his broad shoulders back, his fists clenched at his sides. He stared straight ahead.
She felt a pang of sympathy. Being Jason’s father was already causing him a lot of grief. She owed him grief, but not this kind.
He held open the passenger door of a shiny new navy blue Navigator. It was an expensive car with leather upholstery and all the bells and whistles. So David was living well too. Perhaps the car belonged to his father-in-law.
As David pulled out of the parking space, she glanced at his hands.
“I’m surprised Melba doesn’t make you wear a wedding ring,” she said.
He flushed but said nothing.
“Where is she, by the way? Hiding at home from her son’s little peccadillo?”
“She’s dead.”
Kate gulped. “Oh.”
He glanced at her. “You had no way of knowing. She died three years ago. Congestive heart failure. Runs in the family. Her mother died young.”
“I didn’t know. Is Jason’s health all right?”
David nodded. “He’s fine. Runs on the female side, apparently. Melba never fully recovered from carrying him.”
“I’m sorry. Truly.”
“So we’ve both lost our spouses.”
“You know about Alec’s death?” She was surprised. “I wasn’t even certain you and Melba were still married, much less where you lived or what you did.”
“You’ve developed a fairly high profile. I hear things from time to time.”
HE HEARD EVERYTHING about her life, but he wasn’t about to clue her in on his source. Not now, certainly. Probably not ever.
And then there were the friends from their old theater crowd at college he kept up with. Funny, David thought, that he should have been the one to keep up with them. They’d always been more her friends than his, but after the divorce she’d cut herself off from everyone who knew them as a couple. Maybe she thought they’d take his side. Fat chance. They all thought he was crazy for losing her. He couldn’t agree more.
Maybe she thought they’d known about his infidelity all along and had kept it from her. True, a couple of them had done just that, but only because guys did not rat on their married male friends even when they were tomcatting around on the perfect wife. And it had lasted less than a week—the affair, that is, if that’s what you could call it. Terminal idiocy is what he called it.
He’d been paying the price for his momentary madness for twenty years. Just as he had finally decided he’d paid enough—Jason was now in college—and could see his way clear to getting on with the next phase of his life, this murder charge popped up. Seemed as if he’d been given a life sentence without possibility of parole. And no chance of escape. “There’s a Sonic out by the highway,” he said.
“I don’t like drive-ins,” she answered. “Don’t you have a decent restaurant in this town?”
“Not a restaurant where everybody won’t gawk and gossip and try to overhear our conversation.”
“I noticed we were drawing attention on our way to the car.”
“Yeah. Plenty of people are taking sides—loud sides, at that. They’re basing their opinions not on whether Jason is guilty or innocent, but on how they feel about Dub and his kin. It’s old South versus new, Katie. I may not be Athena born and bred, but Dub and his family have been here since before the war.”
NOBODY ELSE HAD EVES called her Katie
. David had only called her that on rare occasions, usually after they’d made love and were lying sated in each other’s arms. She felt hot tears start and blinked them back. Alec had always called her Katherine, even when they made love, which, given his heart condition and their conflicting schedules, they had not done very often, and even less during the last three years of his life. For a moment she felt a physical ache to turn back the clock, to become once more “Katie,” twenty-two and in love with the next Laurence Olivier.
Not possible. Her life had been chopped into three parts—B. D., before David; W. D., with David; and A. D., after David. She could barely remember B. D., and she fought every day of her life to forget W. D. A. D. ached like a tooth that never hurts quite badly enough to require a root canal.
“At least if we eat in the car we can have some privacy,” David continued.
“Fine. Whatever.”
David pulled under the awning at the Sonic, cut the engine and turned to her. “Do you still like your cheeseburgers with everything?”
“I can’t go before a judge with onions on my breath.”
“Except onions, then? And with large fries?”
“No fries.” Then she said, “Oh, heck, after this morning I deserve comfort food. Yes, large fries. And iced tea.”
He gave the order to the small two-way radio beside the car and a bored female voice confirmed it. “Oh, and could you bring us a bottle of steak sauce?” he asked and turned to her. “You still eat steak sauce on your cheeseburgers and fries?”
“You remember?”
“I remember everything about us,” he said softly.
She couldn’t bear to look into those eyes of his.
God help me, so do I
, she thought. She turned away to avoid his gaze and to get her breathing back under control.
“Kate, I—”
“So, how’re your parents doing?” she asked brightly.
After a pause in which he visibly changed gears, he said, “Okay. Since Dad’s retired, he spends all his time with his roses. He’s winning prizes. Says my farming genes must have come from his side of the family because my mother can kill dirt.”
“I remember. That was about the only trait she and I had in common.” She pointed to the driver’s-side window.
David turned and rolled down the window so that the waitress could set the tray on the edge of the car. David pulled out his wallet, paid the bill and watched her walk away. “That girl went to school with Jason. She’s been out to Long Pond to pool parties a dozen times. She acts as though she’s never seen me before in her life.”
“Jason’s been arrested for raping and murdering one of her friends.”
“She can’t possibly believe it.”
“One thing I’ve learned, David, is that almost everyone assumes a person is arrested because he or she is guilty. Everyone’s embarrassed for you. Nobody knows what to say so they look right through you.”
“They know Jason wouldn’t do something like this.”
“Do they?” David was learning a hard truth. He was suddenly alone among people who had been his friends since he came down here to marry Melba.
David kept getting hit in the face with life’s lessons long after most people had assimilated them and moved on. Like chicken pox, the older you were when the disease hit, the worse the case. And the deeper the scars that remained.
“You’ve got to eat,” she urged.
“Tastes like cardboard.”
“Do it anyway. Try the fries.”
He bit into one and closed his eyes as though he’d forgotten how to swallow. After a moment he asked, “How’s your mother?”
“You knew my father died?”
“Yeah.”
“Testicular cancer. Ironic given his history of rampant infidelity. Six weeks later my mother sold the house in Mount View, bought a condo in Saint Petersburg and is blossoming like one of your daddy’s roses. She says it’s a relief not to have to act as though she doesn’t recognize Daddy’s latest mistress in the supermarket or the reception line at the faculty tea.”