by Karen Rose
“He was cleared, Mr. Smith,” Mrs. McCloud said, but her chin wobbled. “Our grandson is many things, but he is not a murderer.”
“Senator, Mrs. McCloud,” Grayson said as calmly as possible. “I realize this is upsetting you. I can assure you that was not my in—”
“He says my alibi is a fake,” Rex called. “He says somebody switched the security video for the night of the party. I told him he was full of shit.”
“Rex!” Mrs. McCloud scolded. “Please.”
The senator was looking hard at Grayson. “What do you mean the videos were switched?”
“The video that your security chief provided for Rex’s alibi was not made the night Crystal Jones was murdered.”
The senator shook his head. “How is that possible? That’s not possible.”
“I can prove it to you, sir,” Grayson said. “I’d have to show you the video.”
“No,” the senator said forcefully. “I saw it the first time.” His throat worked as he tried to swallow. “That that kind of party was going on in my house… on my land. Disgraceful. We didn’t allow it. We don’t condone it.”
“We put a stop to those parties,” Mrs. McCloud said, but she was also shaken. “Rex was left to run wild, I’m afraid. His mother… She was often busy. Too busy.”
“Claire was taking care of the business, dear,” the senator asserted, his voice low.
Mrs. McCloud pursed her lips and said no more. Clearly it was a point of contention.
The senator looked at his grandson with a mix of anger, sorrow, and frustration. “What did you do, Rex?”
“Nothing,” Rex snapped from his doorway. “I did nothing wrong.”
“You never do,” Mrs. McCloud murmured. “It’s always someone else’s fault.” She straightened her shoulders. “Rex’s alibi is a moot point, Mr. Smith. As much as we hated to see it happen, Ramon was convicted. The evidence presented at the trial was damning. Even if Rex did switch the videos, he did not kill that girl.”
“I didn’t switch the videos,” Rex said angrily. “Smith’s lying.”
“Rex, that’s enough,” the senator said firmly. “Mr. Smith, you remember this case. The girl was at my grandson’s party under false pretenses. She’d lied about her name and other facets of her life, namely her occupation. She seduced my gardener and was unfortunately murdered. Her unwise behavior almost guaranteed she’d meet with a bad end somewhere. It was merely a matter of time. We had nothing to do with it, yet our family name was dragged through the dirt because she happened to meet her bad end on my property.”
In other words, Crystal had it coming. Grayson’s temper bubbled, but he held it back. “I apologize for any negative publicity you had to endure,” he said politely, “but I’m taking another look at this case. I have reason to believe that Ramon Muñoz was innocent.”
Mrs. McCloud’s gasp was audible. “How can that be? Jim, it’s going to start all over again. The reporters and the photographers… We have to stop this before… It’s going to become another scandal.”
“We won’t let it become a scandal,” the senator said, glaring at Grayson, his warning clear. “I’m sure someone in the state’s attorney’s office will be able to convince Mr. Smith that he’s mistaken.”
Grayson had known the McClouds would complain about his visit to Rex. He was prepared to accept the consequences of pushing forward, whatever they were. But…
Mrs. McCloud’s words had triggered memories of his own. The reporters and the photographers had swarmed him and his mother back then. Harassed them. Terrified me. They would again, if Anderson revealed the secret they’d guarded for so long.
And? So? The truth of it hit him hard, quashing his dread. It doesn’t matter. Whatever scandal would be unleashed… doesn’t change who I am. Staying silent, however, would. And that Grayson would not allow.
He looked the senator in the eye. “Sir, did you hear what I said? An innocent man—one of your employees—may have spent years of his life in prison for a crime he didn’t do. Surely that means something to you.”
The senator’s face turned red, whether with embarrassment or anger Grayson was unsure. “Yes, of course it does, and if Roberto is truly innocent, the guilty party should be punished.”
“Ramon,” Paige murmured. “His name is Ramon.”
“Ramon,” he repeated impatiently, then turned back to Grayson. “If Ramon is innocent, by all means exonerate him. But be very sure before you drag my family through it again. These things are difficult on Mrs. McCloud. Her heart is as big as all outdoors, but it’s not as strong as it used to be.”
“Jim,” Mrs. McCloud said softly. “Please don’t. I don’t want my problems aired.”
“He needs to know, Dianna. If he pursues this and something happens to you…” The senator drew a breath. “I couldn’t bear it. I just couldn’t bear it. You’re my heart.”
Mrs. McCloud smiled weakly. “Jim.”
Grayson wasn’t sure if he was being threatened, begged, or snowed. “We’ll endeavor to keep the negative publicity to a minimum,” he said. “But the tapes were switched and I will be asking who did it and what they hoped to gain.”
Mrs. McCloud seemed suddenly frail. “Jim? Is he accusing us?” she whispered.
“No,” the senator said. “He would never be so foolish.” He jabbed the elevator button and the doors opened. “Don’t be foolish, Smith. Be very certain. Come along, dear.” He walked into the elevator, holding the door for his wife.
The doors closed, leaving Paige and Grayson staring at each other.
“Well,” Paige said as Grayson hit the elevator’s down button. “I wonder what they’ll do now.”
“What they’ll do,” Rex called from his doorway, “is have their lawyers on your ass before you’re in your car. Avoiding scandal is the most important thing, doncha know. Which is why I’m such a disappointment. Have a nice night.” He slammed the door.
“Hell of it is, he’s probably right,” Grayson said. A few moments later, the elevator doors opened for them and he followed Paige in. The doors had started to close when his eye caught a movement. It was a man in another condo, watching them from his doorway. He said nothing to them, just watched as the doors slid closed.
“That was Louis Delacorte, Rex’s stepfather,” Paige said.
“I know. I met him briefly during the trial. I wonder how long he’d been listening.”
“From the moment we approached the McClouds. I saw him.” She said no more until they’d left the building, although he could tell she had something on her mind. When his car was in sight, her words rushed out.
“I didn’t like that old man,” she declared. “Insinuating Crystal deserved to die and that Ramon’s freedom was less important than his family’s good name. Selfish.”
“They are politicians,” Grayson said.
“And threatening you like that, while pretending to be doing it for his wife. ‘You’re my heart,’ my ass. I wanted to smack him.” Then she sighed. “I know you took a risk, going up there.”
You have no idea. He wasn’t afraid of Anderson or scandal, but it was going to be a hell of a mess. Still, the bigger truth remained. “It was the right thing to do. For Crystal and Ramon.”
She glanced at him. “I wanted you to know… For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you.”
His chest felt full so suddenly that he had to wait to breathe. “It’s worth a lot.”
The need to touch her swelled, overwhelming him. He gave in, running his hand up the length of her spine and down again, sliding his arm around her waist. And breathing a sigh of relief when she laid her head against his shoulder. They walked the rest of the way in a silence that grew more intimate and warm with every step.
He put her in the car, then sat behind the wheel, wincing. He’d been hard as a rock when she’d dealt with Rex with such fluid finesse, but her words had the same effect. Even more so. He wanted, more than he ever had before.
But it wasn’t as simp
le as want. He yearned. Needed. Surreptitiously he adjusted himself, then looked over to find her watching him, eyes heavy-lidded. Aroused.
“If we weren’t on a busy street, I would have you up against the car,” he said, his voice low and rough, and he watched her swallow.
“I know,” she whispered and his hands gripped the steering wheel so he didn’t grab her where she sat. She looked away. Cleared her throat. “We, um, didn’t ask Rex about the medallion.”
Grayson started the car, forcing himself to think about Rex McCloud and not about driving himself into her until they both were sweaty and satisfied. “It’s okay. I’m going to give it to Stevie, see if there are any prints on it. We could luck out and find his.”
She took her laptop from her backpack. “I’m going to see if I can find any more information on the Winston Heights class of 1973. We have a few hours until Brittany shows up for her shift at the nursing home, if she shows at all. I’d like to know why she put that ring in the envelope before we see her again. We need a way to sort her truth from her lies, and every little bit of background information will help.”
“That’s fine, but you don’t have hours. You have less than thirty minutes.” He glanced over, saw her confusion. “Dinner with my mother. Remember?”
Her eyes widened. “I thought that was canceled. Because… we’re… not going to… you know. Have a relationship.”
He clenched his jaw, unwilling to accept that possibility anymore. If he ever really had been willing, which he hadn’t. “My mother doesn’t take no for an answer.” Plus, he had plans, things he needed to do. Things that, now that the time had finally come, were twisting his gut into new knots. “It’s only a few hours. It would make her happy.”
Her eyes dropped to her laptop screen. “And get her off your back?”
“No,” he said dryly. “Even meeting you couldn’t accomplish that.”
Fourteen
Wednesday, April 6, 7:05 p.m.
The front door slammed and Adele flinched. Darren was home. She didn’t call out to him. Didn’t say a word. Just waited at the kitchen table, staring at the glass of wine that she’d poured two hours ago and hadn’t touched.
Darren set his briefcase on the table. Tugged at his tie, then sat down. She’d hoped he’d be back to normal when he came home, but he was still aloof. And angry.
“The vet called,” she said quietly. “Rusty’s improving. I called your cell, but you didn’t pick up.”
“I know.”
“That Rusty’s doing better?”
“That, too,” he said flatly.
She swallowed hard, looked down at the table. “So you ignored my calls.”
“I called the vet on my own. I also made a few other calls today.”
He said nothing more and finally she looked up again. “To who?”
His expression was cold. Hardened. “To the client you had an afternoon meeting with yesterday. Except she told me it was lunch and you were gone by one. You didn’t pick up Allie until five. Where were you all afternoon?”
Stunned, her mouth dropped open. “You were checking up on me? Why?”
Darren’s mouth twisted bitterly. “Not a good answer, Adele.”
“I…” Was at my psychiatrist because I think I’m losing my mind. But she couldn’t bring the words out of her mouth. “I went shopping.” Which she had, after leaving Theopolis’s office. She’d wandered the mall aimlessly, seeing nothing.
“Which store?” Darren asked acidly.
“I… I don’t remember.” And that was the honest truth.
“Hmm. So, what’s his name, Adele?”
Again her mouth dropped open, this time in anger of her own. “You think that I’m having an affair?”
“Just be honest with me.”
“I am. I am not having an affair. That you could even think that…”
“You usually do wounded so much better than this,” he said. “It’s like this. You say someone’s been following you, trying to harm you. On a different day I might have made you an appointment with a psychiatrist. But my dog is in the clinic, because he’s been poisoned. You didn’t want the chocolates. You knew something was wrong with them.”
“No, I thought so. But I thought a lot of things.” Like you loved me.
“Whatever. I asked you why someone would try to harm you, but you said you didn’t know. Adele, we are a normal couple from Baltimore. We are not celebrities. We have no enemies. At least I thought so until today. I wondered why someone would target you. You, specifically.”
“It could be random.”
He laughed, the sound harsh and painful. “Stalkers don’t just open the phone book and pick a name. That happens in movies, baby. Not real life. Not our life.”
He’d always called her “baby” with tenderness. Now it sliced. “So you assumed.”
“I did. I do. Seems that if someone’s stalking you, you caught their eye somehow. I asked you if there was someone else.”
“I said no.”
“So convincingly, too. Were you laughing at me, Adele?”
She stared at this man she didn’t know. “No. I told you the truth.”
“Whatever. I can’t believe anything you’d even say now.”
“So you think I had an affair,” she said, fighting back the tears. “And then what?”
“I don’t know. Maybe his wife finds out. Maybe he’s the possessive type and you wouldn’t leave me. Because of Allie. So somebody goes all Glenn Close on your ass.” His fists tightened. “Except they fuck up and send poison into my house. Allie could have gotten it, for God’s sake. What were you thinking?”
“You’re wrong. About all of it.”
“My mother was right about you. I’m going to her house tonight. When I come back from work tomorrow, I want you gone.”
She gaped at him in shock. “What?”
“You heard me. You cheat, you leave. This is my house. I’m not leaving this time.”
She opened her mouth, unable to speak. His ex-wife had cheated. Adele had always known that. His ex-wife had gotten nearly everything but the dog, including the house. But… she never dreamed he could believe this. Not of me.
He waited. “No more lies, Adele?”
She found her voice. “I didn’t cheat on you.”
“Then tell me where you were,” he said, leaning forward. “Please.”
“I told you,” she said weakly. “I went shopping.”
He straightened. “Fine. If that’s how you want to play this.”
“I’m not playing,” she said desperately, a new fear gripping her. “You can’t have Allie.”
“Watch me. I’ve already got a lawyer. The one my ex used last time when she drained me dry. I’ll fight for custody.”
Panic gripped her. “I’ve done nothing wrong. You can’t prove any of this.”
Pain flashed across his face. “Then prove me wrong. I want to be wrong. Tell me where you were yesterday.”
Her mind raced. If she told him about Theopolis, he’d dig deeper. He’d find out everything. Then he really would take Allie. “I went shopping.”
He let out a breath. “That’s your final word?”
Her own breath stuck in her chest, she nodded.
“Then go. I don’t want you here.” Taking his briefcase, he walked to the kitchen door, then turned, and she saw the hurt raging in his eyes. “I treated you like a queen,” he said brokenly. “How could you do this to me? To our family?”
Adele stiffened her spine. She had some pride. “How could you believe I could?”
He shook his head. Said no more. Then he left the house, closing the door very quietly behind him. It was silent. He was gone.
He’d ripped her heart out. If you tell him, you can stop this. Or maybe hasten it. She needed to figure out what to do. She needed to figure out how to keep Allie.
She forced herself to stand and, leaving the wineglass untouched, stumbled up the stairs into her bedroom. From her closet she pulle
d her suitcase and began to haphazardly pack, not knowing where she would go. She moved a few boxes, looking for the photo albums she’d packed away when they’d moved from their last home.
Her hands stilled when she spied the box in the back corner of the closet. Almost on autopilot she dumped the contents, finding a smaller box at the bottom. It was about the size of her hand. She stared at it for a long time, not wanting to remove the lid.
There were secrets in the box. Things she never wanted to remember. Yet she’d kept it. How crazy was that? she thought bitterly. She recalled the black car last night and shook her head hard. “Don’t be crazy.”
She’d recited those words to herself many times. Don’t be crazy. Some of those times she’d been struggling in a bed, her arms restrained. Guys with white coats giving her meds out of really long needles. Don’t be crazy.
Eventually they’d stopped the meds. She hadn’t been mentally ill. But her mind had been fractured, Theopolis had said, through trauma. She needed to be glued back together. The glue had failed. I’m falling apart.
Carefully Adele opened the box that had remained closed since the day it was given to her. She stared at the contents for long, long minutes as she remembered that day. She’d gotten good at locking the memory away, but every now and then it escaped, roaring to life with a vengeance that left her shaken.
Someone is trying to kill you. The words whispered through her mind, sifting through the panic that clawed at the thought of Darren taking Allie away.
She lifted the little medallion from the box. “I’m a MAC,” she whispered. “Loud and Proud.” It had started as the best day in her life. It had ended as the worst. Until today.
Someone is trying to kill you. Darren had believed her. Maybe someone else would, too. Maybe it was finally time to tell.
Wednesday, April 6, 7:35 p.m.
Paige glanced at Grayson as he drove. He was talking to Stevie Mazzetti, who’d gotten the court order for Radcliffe’s video. Mazzetti and her partner were trying to track Radcliffe down to execute the order.
“Somebody should attack me,” Paige muttered. “Radcliffe would be right there.”