by Karen Rose
“If you’d like to wait, I’ll let Ms. McCloud know you’re here.”
Grayson took a seat on the sofa in the waiting area, while Paige wandered, checking out the artwork and photographs on the wall. He took a moment to breathe, to simply watch her. She moved fluidly, no sign that he’d tumbled her down an embankment twelve hours ago. Or tumbled her in his bed after that. When this was over, he intended to tumble her again and again.
He enjoyed watching her, knowing that under her clothes were deadly weapons and wicked curves. She’d stopped at a group of photographs, studying each one as if she were a student in an art museum. And because he was watching, he saw the minute tensing of her body before she relaxed and moved on to the next wall. Eventually she made her way through all the art and sat down beside him.
He bent to her ear, pretending to kiss her neck. “What did you see?”
She swatted him playfully. “Not here.” She took her phone from her pocket and typed a text message. He settled back, pretending to rest his eyes, waiting for her to finish.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. She’d hit “send,” but she was still typing. His phone buzzed three more times before she finally stopped texting, opening a game of Scrabble on her phone. “Is ‘xylophone’ ‘l-o’ or ‘l-a’?” she asked, bored.
“L-o.” Idly he checked his phone. And fought to keep his expression bland.
2 fotos far wall. Group of kids. 12 yr old. Wearing medallions.
I’m a Mac. Loud and proud. MAC = McCloud Alliance for Children.
It’s a charity for kids. Run by McCloud family.
1 foto taken 1984. CJ not born then. Other 1999. CJ 13 then.
His heart pounded. Crystal’s determination to get close to Rex McCloud had just taken on a substantially different meaning. Why had she gone to the party that night?
“Mr. Smith,” the receptionist said stiffly. “Ms. McCloud will see you now.”
Thursday, April 7, 10:55 a.m.
The newspaper photographs didn’t do justice to Reba McCloud, Paige thought as she took the chair next to Grayson’s. Her hair, coiffed in a sleek French twist, shone like gold silk. She had a Grace Kelly look to her, ethereally beautiful. The dress she wore was Chanel, if Paige wasn’t mistaken. And about clothes, Paige rarely was.
Reba smoothed the hair behind her ear, sending the dozens of diamonds circling her watch winking in the sunlight. “Thank you for coming to see me, Mr. Smith.”
Grayson inclined his head, every bit the dignified state’s attorney. “I felt it my duty.”
Reba’s lips curved cynically. “Your duty to whom?”
“To the truth,” he said bluntly. “A young woman was killed on your family’s property six years ago. She was your nephew’s guest.”
Her mouth flattened. “My nephew was allowed entirely too much freedom in those days, Mr. Smith. It damaged him. Rex is a drug addict and a thief. But he’s no killer. He had an alibi for that night, a security video of the party going on, which he never left. Distasteful as his activities were, he was quite occupied at the time of that girl’s death.”
“The video was switched,” Grayson said. “I’m sure Rex told you we know this.”
Paige caught the merest of flickers in Reba’s eyes, acknowledging Grayson’s words as fact. “My parents told me you’d said so,” Reba said. “I don’t believe it.”
“We have a witness,” Grayson continued, “who says Rex left the pool that night to go looking for the victim, Crystal Jones. The witness says he was angry. Very angry.”
“I’m familiar with the witness that you’re speaking of,” Reba said coolly. “Betsy Malone is an addict as well, and not credible in the least. Let me speak candidly, Mr. Smith. You are attacking the wrong family.”
“I’m attacking no one,” Grayson said. “I’m searching for justice for a dead woman. If the facts point to your nephew, then that’s where I go. If someone switched a security video and the security company was paid by your family, then I go there, too.”
“My parents are exemplary citizens,” she said, her voice coldly furious, “who have done more for this community than ten philanthropists combined. For you to accuse us is outrageous. And wrong.”
Paige had the feeling Reba believed every word she’d said. I’m a MAC. She wanted to ask, but held herself back. “Can you provide an alternate theory for the switched video? Because it was switched. There is no question about that.”
“Because Betsy Malone said so?” Reba asked, a shrill note in her tone.
“No, ma’am,” Paige said calmly. “Because the moon in the video was in the wrong phase for the date of Crystal’s death. The video provided for Rex’s alibi was not made the night of the murder. I’d be happy to show you if you’re still unconvinced.”
Reba’s cheeks heated. “That doesn’t mean Rex killed her or that my parents are involved in a cover-up.”
“Being very blunt, that’s exactly what I do think it means, Ms. McCloud,” Grayson said. “And by bringing these facts to light, I’ve made someone angry. Very angry.”
Reba’s eyes flashed. “I read about your near miss last night. How terrifying for you.” Any sincerity in her voice was stamped out by her fury. “But to even intimate that my family was responsible for such a crime… Mr. Smith, if you don’t cease and desist, you’ll find yourself at the center of a libel suit.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time. But I am willing to entertain, as Ms. Holden said, alternate theories. Do you have one? Perhaps another guest was responsible for the death of Crystal Jones and the subsequent switch of the videos?”
“I don’t know any of their names other than Betsy, and I only know her because she and Rex got arrested together several times after that night. I wasn’t even at the estate during that party. I was in my condo here, in this building.”
“Your sister wasn’t there that night either, as I recall,” Grayson said.
“Claire was probably out of the country. She usually was back then. Now her office is in New York. She comes to Baltimore once a month to give my father an update.”
“What about Rex’s father?” Paige asked.
“His father OD’d when Rex was ten,” Reba said flatly. “His stepfather hasn’t been very involved in his upbringing. He couldn’t help you with details about that night, either.”
Paige softened her request with a smile. “We need someone who was there that night. Anyone who can offer us a lead in another direction. An innocent man has lost six years of freedom. We don’t want the same to happen to anyone else, Rex included. So any help you can give us will be appreciated. And followed up.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because we want to do the right thing,” Paige said patiently. “But if that’s too hard to swallow, somebody tried to blow us up. The sooner we find out who killed Crystal Jones, the sooner we ID whoever is trying to make us into hamburger.”
Reba’s suspicion appeared unappeased, but she answered. “I remember my father calling the guard at the gate Les. I don’t know if it was short for Leslie or Lester. Les doesn’t work the gate anymore. He retired the year after the murder. That’s all I know.”
That’s all she’s willing to divulge. And they already knew that Lester Neil had died shortly after retiring. Paige suspected Reba knew it, too. It was time to shift gears.
“Thank you,” Paige said. “I read about your father. He’s been responsible for a lot of good work. I don’t want to drag him through the mud, not at all.”
“My father is responsible for more good than anyone knows,” Reba said passionately. “These days, politicians use every small thing they do as a platform to tout themselves. My parents ran many charitable programs no one even knew about. They did it because it was the right thing. They didn’t want all the adulation and publicity.”
Yes. The opening she’d been waiting for. “I hadn’t read about the program for the kids, but I saw the picture outside. MAC, I think it was called?”
Reba’s chin lifted. �
�My favorite. My parents sponsored a dozen schools every year, from districts all over the state. They provided money for supplies and books and field trips. One child represented each school and my parents gave them an ice-cream social at the estate every year. These were pretty poor kids, from sad circumstances. Most of them never got a square meal. My parents made donations to their families, too.”
“I imagine choosing the schools was hard,” Paige said, “with so many being needy.”
“It was a lottery system. The school benefited, the kids and the families did, too.”
“I wish I’d been in one of those programs,” Paige said ruefully. “My grandparents raised me and our budget was always tight. How long did the MAC program run?”
“Sixteen years. I have photos of the first and last classes out there. MAC made a difference in the lives of a lot of kids.”
“I like the concept. I admire the work your family’s done for children. I’m actually trying to pull together a nonprofit of my own. A school.”
Reba’s eyes widened, incredulous. “You have a lot of nerve, accusing us, then asking for my help.”
“If you’d known Rex’s alibi video had been switched, what would you have thought?” Paige asked. Reba said nothing, pursing her lips. “You do good here, Ms. McCloud, like your parents did. I’d like to think I’ve done good, too. You can look me up.”
“I did,” Reba said coolly. “I know what you’ve done. And what’s been done to you.”
Paige fought the urge to flinch. Reba’s arrow had squarely hit her mark, but Paige wouldn’t let it show. She wanted more information on the McCloud Alliance for Children, but hesitated to ask any more questions lest the suspicious Reba become more so.
Paige had an idea about how she could get to more MAC info. Grayson had become very quiet, letting her take the lead—and for that, she would kiss him later.
“I may be nervy, Ms. McCloud, but I see an opportunity and I may not have your ear again. I’ve been planning a martial arts school for kids and adults with disabilities. I have a sponsor who’s prepared to provide all the funding I need, but I’ll also need publicity and help structuring the project from someone with experience.” Paige noted how Reba’s eyes positively gleamed at the mention of funding. “A joint effort between us could go a long way in signaling your family’s cooperation with the investigation and washing away any shadows.”
Reba drummed her fingers on her desk. Paige could see the wheels turning in the woman’s eyes. “Name one charity I’ve helped fund, Ms. Holden.”
“I can name dozens.” She proceeded to rattle off names of Reba’s charitable endeavors until the woman lifted her hand.
“All right. You did some research before you came. Submit a proposal.” Reba rose. “In the meantime, I trust you’ll stop these baseless accusations against my family.”
“We’ll keep trying to find the truth,” Paige said softly. “But if we can find any other viable explanation, we’ll run with it. You have our word.”
“Thank you,” Reba said frostily. She opened her door. “Have a good day.”
Paige waited on the sidewalk while Grayson checked the SUV. “It’s clean. Get in.” When he’d slammed his door, he turned to her. “What the hell just happened up there?”
Paige buckled her seat belt. “We discovered the significance of Crystal’s medallion and I laid the foundation to inquire further into the MAC program, separate from the investigation into Rex. We need to know what the program did and when and if Crystal was part of it, but I didn’t dare ask all that straight out. Reba would have shut down.”
“How do you plan to inquire further into the MAC program?”
“I plan to return with my sponsor. Did you see how Reba’s eyes lit up when I said I had all the money I needed?”
He rubbed his forehead. “And who might this sponsor with money be?”
“Well, I’m not sure yet. But we’ll think of something.” She opened the laptop. “I’m going to search for the MAC charity, now that we know what it is.” She glanced at him sideways. “You mad at me?”
“No. I’m just… flabbergasted.”
She smiled. “Wouldn’t want you to get bored.”
“No chance of that.” He studied her. “Are you serious about the school?”
“Oh yes. That wasn’t a lie. Your sister Holly will be my first student. Your mom thought it was a fantastic idea.” She bit at her lip. “Especially given the circumstances.”
Grayson frowned. “What circumstances?”
Here we go. “Holly’s been bullied by some men at her social center. The friend she mentioned at Lisa’s place on Tuesday, the one that died? He’d been protecting her.”
Grayson gripped the steering wheel, hard. “Who? Who’s been bullying her?”
“Can you calm down? You’re about to pop a blood vessel in your neck. She’s okay.”
“Nobody touches Holly.”
“Nobody has. She was afraid to say anything, afraid Joseph would blow his cool and get himself arrested. Don’t make her worry about you, too.”
He sighed. “I won’t. Holly’s a lot more aware than we give her credit for sometimes. Joseph would blow his cool if he knew. And that’s never, ever good.”
“I told her I’d go to the center with her. Scare the boys into leaving her alone. But she will be alone sometimes and she needs to know how to get away if she’s attacked.”
“I know. I don’t want to admit she’s vulnerable that way.”
“She’s a grown woman now. You have to look these things in the eye.”
“I’ll keep one eye closed,” he muttered. “Thank you,” he added quietly. “For caring.”
She patted his arm. “Holly asked if I could teach her friends, other women at the center. I said sure. Your mother said she’d join us, but I think she just wants the outfit.”
He chuckled. “That’s my mom.”
“Holly goes to the center on Thursdays. That’s tonight. I’m planning to go, as long as we’re not busy, you know, fighting crime or anything.”
“I’ll go with you. If any guy looks at her any way I don’t like, I’ll beat the shit out of him.”
Paige sighed. “I knew you’d say that. So, what next? Meet Joseph for lunch, then back to interviewing the pool-party guest list or run with the MAC charity?”
“The charity. If Crystal was one of those children in the program, she had previous contact with the McClouds. And she’d been at the estate before Rex’s party.”
“Grayson, do you still believe Rex killed Crystal Jones?”
He hesitated a fraction. “Yes.”
“But?” she asked.
“But right now I really want to know why Crystal had that medallion and why she wanted to go to Rex’s party.”
“So do I. We could ask Rex. Although he called his lawyers, so he won’t talk to us.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” He looked over at her. “I thought it odd we were summoned to cease and desist by Reba. Normally that would have come through Rex’s attorney.”
Her lips bent thoughtfully. “Is it possible he doesn’t have an attorney yet?”
“Very possible. I wonder if this might be the straw that broke the family’s back.”
“Good. It’s about time they cut him loose.”
“You never said if you still thought Rex killed Crystal,” he said.
“The kids in that picture were only twelve,” she said, troubled.
“Yeah, I know.”
“So you’re thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked and he shrugged.
“We have Crystal, who’s already been arrested for hooking. She’s blackmailing a man, yet goes to a party to score some really big money. We have Brittany, who gave us bank records establishing the blackmail and one plastic medallion.”
“She also helped stall us inside the nursing home,” Paige said.
“I think Brittany’s playing both sides of the fence. I believed her only twice. Once when she was sad that her sister w
as dead.”
“And once when she said she was all her son had.”
He nodded. “That came off as sincere. She blew fifty Gs on a private school for her kid’s kindergarten while working nights in a nursing home. That doesn’t add up unless the only person who matters is her son. She’ll do anything, say anything, to protect him.”
“She’s wily. Brittany, I mean. She gives us just enough to send us to the McClouds— the family, not just Rex. Why? She’s got an angle. I can feel it.”
“I know. We need to be watching for how that thread weaves into this mess.”
Paige frowned. “Brittany said that Crystal had been molested. What if something happened to her when she was twelve? When she was a ‘MAC, Loud and Proud’? What if someone there molested her?”
“Then we have a very big problem.”
“We have Brittany’s cell number. We could call her and ask. We both have new phone numbers, not tied to us, so she won’t know it’s us calling. Maybe she’ll pick up.”
“Stevie tried the number several times. Brittany’s not answering.”
“She’s on the run,” Paige said. “I would be, too, in her shoes. Especially since she nearly got us killed. I’d sure as hell run from me.”
“Let’s find out if Crystal really was one of the MAC kids,” Grayson suggested. “If she was, it adds all kinds of motives for her going to that party. And motives for whoever killed her.”
“We could start with Crystal’s middle school. Ask them if she was a MAC kid.”
“But we don’t know where Crystal went to middle school,” he said.
“I can find out. I will need to make a few calls. Three, four tops.”
“Then do it. I want to see how you manage it,” he said, making her grin.
“A challenge. How can I refuse? Call number one, Winston Heights High School, where that class ring came from.” She searched for the school’s Web site and phone number. “It’s in the Hagerstown area and there’s a chance it was Crystal’s high school.”
“But you want the middle school.”
“Sshh.” She dialed the school with her new cell phone. “Hello? My name is Mary Johnson. I’m doing a background check on a potential employee. The applicant’s name is Jones, Crystal. She should have graduated in 2004.… Of course I’ll hold. Thank you.”