by Wendy Byrne
“Children. Children. Time to stop fighting.” Cole stepped between them, bringing down the tension. “Should Sam have told you? Hell yes. But should Travis have told you a long time ago? That would be an oh hell yes.” He walked with them to the door.
Jillian let the anger slide as she focused on more important things. “Sam, did Travis say anything to you on Saturday when he spoke to you alone?
“He didn’t tell me what was bothering him if that’s what you’re asking. He just wanted me to make sure you were all right. He wanted me to stay with you,” Sam said.
A blush crept up her face. Instead of addressing Travis’ request, she said, “you sensed something was off too?”
“The kid was jumping at shadows and couldn’t string a coherent sentence together. I’d bet that person on the tape scared the crap out of him.”
“Maybe I should call Detective Brock and let him know somebody was in Travis’ room and our suspicions about who it was.”
Cole gave Jillian a hug before shaking Sam’s hand. “Okay kiddies, I’m going to get back to work. You two play nice. For the record, I think calling Brock and letting him know about the guy wearing the Rolex would be a good idea.”
“Thanks for everything, Cole. I appreciate your help.” She waved goodbye and walked with Sam to his truck. A twinge of awkwardness settled in between them as they got inside.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you when I found it. I fucked up.”
“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll call Detective Brock if you’ll talk to Victoria Gill and see if she knows anything.”
He laughed. “Somehow I think I’m getting the raw end of that deal.”
“Payback is a bitch.”
***
Sam pulled to a stop in front of the Gill home. “How should I play this? Logically she out to know where Lexie is. I mean, how is the kid surviving otherwise?”
“She lived on the streets for nearly nine months before she was arrested. The kid has more street smarts than you could imagine.” Jillian chewed on the corner of her lip. “Her mom is going to be defensive and angry. Besides, she has Eric Tallman doing the searching for her.”
“He doesn’t seem to be working real hard, except for harassing Travis.”
“Maybe they don’t want to find Lexie.” She twisted in her seat. “Do you think it’s possible that Eric and Victoria really killed Max and set up Travis? That’s what I thought in the beginning, but it seemed so beyond the realm of possibilities. How would we prove it? And why would they spike Travis’ water?”
“If they wanted to frame him, they would want to make sure he was out of it. Although he’s not a grown man, he still could put up a lot of resistance. With his history he’d be a perfect scapegoat.” Sam drummed his fingertips on the steering wheel as he tried to figure out what to say to the grieving widow.
“That begs the question as to whether Lexie was involved. I mean she could have come willingly, like Cole said, or she could have been a pawn,” she said. “But why would she show up scared as shit at Travis’ hospital room?”
“Which puts us right back to where we started.” Sam put his hand on the handle of the door. “Wish me luck, I’m going to see what the grieving widow has to say about all this.”
“Be careful. I’m sure she’s on the lookout for her seventh or is it her eighth husband by now. After all, it’s been a whole ten days.” Jillian laughed as he got out of the car. “In the meantime I’ll call Detective Brock.”
“You definitely got the easy part.”
“Like I said, payback’s a bitch.”
Figuring out how to play this would have to be on the fly. He’d never met this woman but had a pretty good idea of how she operated.
When seconds after he rang the doorbell she opened the door, he was taken aback. He’d expected to have to go through a few servants or something, but maybe money was tight in the Gill household until the death benefit kicked in.
“Mrs. Gill?”
“Yes, may I help you?” She smiled although Botox injections prevented it from reaching her eyes. The sweat pants she wore were the very expensive designer kind that hung low on her hips. Red-painted fingertips drummed against the large wooden door. He could tell by the way her eyes fluttered that she was debating whether or not she should flirt with him.
“I heard about your husband’s passing and I’m sorry for your loss. I wanted to pay my respects in person since I missed the service.” Sam held out his hand which she took and held tightly. “How’s your daughter holding up? Max told me they were close so I’m sure this whole thing is rough on her.”
Her eyes widened, then she looked him over and sniffed. “It’s been hard but we’re doing okay.”
“That’s good. I know Lexie went through a rough patch a while back.” He held up his hands. “Max told me in strict confidence, but I’m glad to hear she’s weathering the trauma. Is she around? I’d love to meet her. Max talked so much about her.”
“She’s…hmm…she’s not home right now.” Her eyes narrowed and he thought for a moment he might have laid it on a little thick. “What did you say your name is?”
“John Adams.” Sam figured that was as good a name as any.
“Well, Mr. Adams—”
“Call me, John, please.” He felt like gagging. Not only was the woman still holding his hand, she didn’t look as if she had any intention of letting go based on the flirty smile on her face.
“I have an appointment, but I’d love to talk more about you and my husband’s business sometime.” She finally let go of his hand.
“Sure, I’ll keep in touch.” Sam walked back to the car feeling as though he’d been slimed.
***
“Are you ready to be put under?” Dr. Stern met Travis in his private office at the juvenile facility. While it didn’t have nice furniture like his real office, it was much better than the uncomfortable visiting rooms.
While it seemed a good idea to undergo hypnosis to prove his innocence, now Travis couldn’t help worrying. What if he really had done it? He’d learned the hard way in here, that anything was possible. It wasn’t as if he had a choice in the matter, though, since the judge had ordered it.
“I’m kind of freaked out by the idea.”
“No need to worry. I assure you, it doesn’t hurt.”
He laughed. “It’s kind of weird, though. You won’t make me do anything stupid, like bark like a dog when I hear a certain word or something?”
Dr. Stern laughed. “Absolutely not. That kind of hypnosis is for entertainment purposes. In the therapeutic sense, I will hopefully be able to uncover what’s buried deep inside your subconscious. That can only help you in the long run, especially if I plant the suggestion to help you remember.”
“Yeah,” Travis shrugged, “unless it turns out I really did it. In which case, I’m in some really deep shit.”
“Not to worry, Travis. I’ll take care of everything.”
“Yeah, but say I admit it—not that I think I did—is it covered by some kind of privilege if I tell you?”
“Of course. Nothing you say to me under hypnosis is admissible in court. But I’d like to prove your innocence.”
Travis placed his hand on the table. “Before we start,” tears threatened at the back of his eyes, “just don’t tell my mom if I…you know…admit to anything, okay?” He could take his punishment but not if his mother gave up on him. That he couldn’t handle.
“Absolutely. Besides, I’m not allowed to tell her anything without your consent.”
Travis wasn’t sure what he was more worried about: what he’d learn or what he wouldn’t.
***
“Detective Brock, I have a favor to ask.” Jillian tried to keep an eye on Sam while she talked. “I have reason to believe someone came into the hospital in the middle of the night and threatened my son.”
“Why do you think that? There’s a guard outside his door. Did Travis say something?”
“From what I unde
rstand the guard is a little lax in the middle of the night.” She toyed with the idea of telling him about Lexie but thought better of it. Trusting him that much could be a problem.
“What are you trying to say?”
“Do you know Eric Tallman?”
“Yeah, I know him.” The disgust laced in his voice told her everything he was too polite to say about a former colleague.
“Let’s say someone who was wearing a watch like his was in my son’s room at three forty-one on Saturday morning. Could you do a little investigation into that?”
“I’ll ask around, but not much I can do besides ask a few question. I’m sure you realize that.”
“It will make me feel better.”
“I’ll see what I can find out.”
“Thank you.”
“Mrs. Beckett, what were you doing the other night at that party in Brentwood?”
“How did you know?”
“Caller ID from the 9-1-1. I recognized the number.”
“I was hoping to find somebody who knew something about that night.” She sucked in a breath.
“Parenting is a tough job. I’ve got five kids of my own and a couple of grandkids. We can’t always be objective. You know what I mean?”
She spotted Sam walking back to the car. “I understand what you’re trying to say and I’ll keep that in mind. If you could ask around about Mr. Tallman I would appreciate it. I know he’s working for Mrs. Gill and I’m worried he might be stepping over the line.”
“I’ll see what I can find out. When you see Sam Carter could you tell him we finally arrested Carlos Sutton last night? I can’t believe he got nailed for something as small time as purse snatching. Resisting the arrest got him sent to juvie.”
“Thank you again. I’ll let him know.” She disconnected as Sam got into the car. “So what happened?”
“She didn’t say a thing about Lexie and I’d bet she doesn’t know where she is. On the plus side, she did hit on me. Must be my charming personality.” He graced her with a cheesy smile.
“Geez, her husband’s barely cold. Too bad you’re going to have to share her with the mystery man from the other day, who I’m guessing might be Tallman.”
“What happened with Detective Brock?”
She started to fill him on the little progress she’d made. “That reminds me, he said to tell you they finally nailed Carlos Sutton. I assume you know what he’s talking about.”
“That’s the kid who shot at us. I talked to Brock about the kid the other day. He knew of him, but they had very little info. They were waiting to nail him on something.”
“They got him for purse snatching and resisting arrest.”
“That sounds kind of pansy for a bad dude like him.”
“That’s what Detective Brock said too—” Before she finished, a black SUV pulled into Victoria Gill’s driveway. “Shut the front door, that’s Dr. Stern isn’t it?”
“Holy shit, do you think she’s banging him too?”
Chapter Twenty-seven
That whole hypnosis thing with Dr. Stern had been a complete bust as far as producing useful information according to Dr. Stern. Afterward, the doctor had rushed Travis out of his office as if he had the plague or something. Geez, he couldn’t help it if his subconscious wasn’t cooperating.
As he reached his cell, his spirits sank. He was sick of this place. In the hospital he’d grown accustomed to medicinal smells and sunlight coming through the window. Here he smelled unclean bodies, rotten food and most of all, fear. Windowless concrete added to the depressing atmosphere.
As if things weren’t bad enough, he’d just learned he’d soon have a roommate. From the gossip going around, it seemed that he was going to be stuck with the baddest of the bad.
Geez, as if his life didn’t suck enough. Add an asshole to the mix and he’d be lucky to live long enough to stand trial for murder.
He’d already been cautioned by the judge to keep his nose clean. Like he needed that warning. Before his current life circumstances, he hadn’t been the type of kid who invited trouble. He didn’t pick fights. Never had.
Why hadn’t Dr. Stern told him anything about what he’d said during the hypnosis? That worried him. After that crap about finding out what happened that night Dr. Stern had stammered something about not learning anything of consequence. Weird.
He stretched out on his bunk and tried to relax. As he lay there, he heard the gate clunk open and then close. Footsteps echoed along the corridor until they reached his cell.
With a lump in his throat the size of a small animal, he glanced upward. At first Travis let out a sigh of relief. The kid was small, though wiry. Then again, he’d seen the smallest of guys kick some major ass in here. And they always had a chip on their shoulder like they had something to prove.
Crap. He’d seen this guy before. But where?
“Travis Beckett, meet your new cellmate, Carlos Sutton. The guard walked back out the cell door. “You two play nice now.”
Oh shit.
He was going to die.
***
They’d already set up their dinner outside. Sam watched in fascination as Jillian used chopsticks to dig shrimp from the carton of Chinese. “I don’t get why you’re so willing to help with Travis, not that I’m objecting. His own father doesn’t even…I’m sorry…I’m trying to say thank you. Again.”
“You’re welcome. Again.” Sam slid some moo shu pork between the chopsticks and plopped it into his mouth.
“What’s your story? You’ve never told me much about your life.”
He weighed the options and ultimately decided to be truthful about his past. “My mom was a drug addict. I bounced around the system for a long time. I got into trouble and was in and out of juvie myself. Sometimes it was a case of wrong place at the wrong time, bad group of friends. Sometimes I was stupid.”
“I sense a but coming.”
“I’d been in most of the foster homes in Los Angeles when they finally placed me with Mama Iris, I was fourteen. Everything I am today I owe to her. Not only did she not give up on me, she treated me with respect and taught me about caring. Her rules were tough, but more than anything I wanted what she offered—the thing that had been eluding me all my life—somebody to love me no matter what I said or did. Somebody who didn’t give up.”
“She seems like a wonderful woman.”
Sam smiled. “She convinced me I had good inside me. I have to admit at that point it was hidden pretty darn deep.” He chuckled, remembering some of his attempts to get her to give up on him, as everybody else had. “She said all I needed was a little discipline, and for once that didn’t mean physical punishment. She introduced me to a friend of hers who was a youth football coach. The man worked me harder than I’d ever worked the summer before my freshman year of high school. When school started, all of a sudden, I was on the honor roll and was named as a hot prospect for a college football scholarship.”
“The rest, as they say, is history.”
“Something like that.” Sam leaned forward and sipped his beer. “I guess with Travis it’s like a pay-it-forward kind of moment. Even though he has a mother who loves him, he still seemed a little lost the first day of practice. I could tell he wanted to be there, but didn’t want me or anyone else to know how much it meant for him to belong.”
“That’s an Orange County thing. Then again, I shouldn’t blame it on just Orange County. It’s probably a high school thing as well. Your status is determined as early as grade school. He didn’t really fit into any of the cliques and seemed at a loss as to how to go about changing the situation.” She let out a sigh as if she felt responsible somehow for his difficulties. “I know every mother says this, but Travis is very bright. He’s fascinated by a lot of different things, from books to music to astronomy to art. So he hung around the fringes, not quite sure how to break in. Unfortunately, the kids who accepted him were kids who were experimenting with drugs. He got secretive and started staying out
all night. Then he got arrested. That’s what sent his father over the edge.”
“I expect he’d been teetering on that edge for a long time.”
“True. Kids know when there’s something off in a household.” She emitted a bitter laugh. “Of course, mainstream’s definition of normal isn’t what you find in most families.”
He shook his head, still trying to figure it all out. She presented as a strong independent woman, but clinging to a marriage that had been doomed since the beginning didn’t match. What Cole had unearthed about her parents fit into the picture somewhat, but he had to believe there was more. He couldn’t help but wondering if she’d ever be forthcoming with him.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I can’t see you and Archie together. You seem so opposite, not that I know the guy. I’m basing this on what you and Travis have told me.”
“And the fact he’s twelve plus years older than me,” she chuckled. “Archie came to an art show at NYU and hit on me. Told me I should be a model. A couple of months later my parents died in a car accident. It was a difficult time for me. It sounds cliché, but I was vulnerable.”
“You were an only child?”
“Yes, and I swore when I got married I would have several children.” She laughed. “And look what happened.”
“You’re still young.”
She gave him a hesitant smile that told him she’d relaxed. “But the prospects for another marriage and family before my biological clock sounds an alarm are pretty slim.”
He returned her smile. The idea of them as a couple seemed not only possible but inevitable the way he saw things. As for her, he wasn’t too sure what she thought about the idea.
“Tell me about your parents. Were you close to them?” It was a calculated question. More than anything else, he wanted to know if she’d be honest with him. Letting her guard down would be the first step.
***