Outfox
Page 23
“Mike’s already offered. I told him no.”
She shifted her gaze back to him.
“I would rather you volunteer it,” he said.
She didn’t see what harm could come from him knowing. If she confided this, maybe she would win a measure of trust, which she feared she might need in the days to come.
“I would like to have a child. Jasper asked for time to adjust to the idea of parenthood at his age. But I’m not getting any younger, either. Biological clock. All that. So I had eggs harvested to be frozen until he…until the time was right to have IVF.”
Drex didn’t move, speak, blink.
“When you approached me in the coffee shop, I had just received the disappointing news that some of the eggs—and the number wasn’t abundant to begin with—weren’t robust. Which means much lower odds for success, should we decide even to try fertilization.”
She was looking down at her fingers as they pleated the edge of the counterpane. His hand came into her range of vision. He was holding out the cup of tea with the handle toward her. She took it from him, sipped. The tea had grown tepid, but she continued to take small drinks of it. It gave her something to do besides look at him.
Since becoming involved with Jasper, she hadn’t been alone with many men, but certainly with no one who unsettled her as Drex did. He posed an indefinable, but very real, threat. She’d felt it from the moment she met him. Instinct had cautioned her to Keep Away, not out of fear that he would endanger her intentionally, but as though she were getting too close to open flame. The light source that attracts the moth isn’t responsible for its innate heat, nor can it be blamed for the moth’s compulsion to fly into it.
While confident in every other circumstance of her life, when near Drex, she felt unsure and self-conscious. He made her aware of everything about herself. As now. She could feel every inch of her skin inside the soft pajamas, everywhere the cotton conformed to her shape, every place it abraded her with no more friction than a warm breath.
She was even more keenly aware of him. He had taken off his necktie. His collar button was undone, his shirt cuffs rolled back, his shirttail pulled out. At best, his hair had been finger combed. The dishevelment only made him more attractive. She flashed back to the sight of his bare chest and abdomen and the dusting of hair that tapered to a strip that disappeared into his low-slung waistband.
This awareness of him created a pressure against her chest, which she wanted to shove away…but also to hug tightly.
“One more question and I’ll let you go to sleep,” he said. “Why didn’t you kiss goodbye?”
Her head came up. She met his gaze. She exhaled through her mouth. “What?”
“You and Jasper didn’t kiss goodbye at the airport, did you? And the reason you didn’t go on that trip had nothing to do with an attack of queasiness. Jasper picked a fight on the way to the airport, didn’t he?”
“No.”
“Talia.”
She returned the mug the nightstand, threw off the covers, and tried to get up. He placed his hands on her shoulders. She resisted, but his eyes held her more imperatively than his hands.
“Jasper picked a fight,” he said quietly but with intensity. “You quarreled. You didn’t kiss goodbye and wave him off, did you? That was a lie.”
She glared at him, breathing hard, but she would die before admitting that he was right.
“What was the fight about? You wanted IVF, he didn’t?”
She shook her head. “I hadn’t even told him I was having the harvesting procedure. I still haven’t.”
“Why not?”
“An opportunity hasn’t presented itself.”
“Bullshit. You’ve had plenty of opportunities to tell him. You haven’t because you’re afraid he’ll be relieved, and his relief will break your heart.”
“I’m not talking about this with you. It’s personal. Furthermore, it’s irrelevant.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, so what did you quarrel about on the way to the airport?”
“It was a spat, over nothing. Nothing important.”
“It was important enough for you to nix a romantic getaway.”
“I wish I had it to do over again.”
“Well, you don’t!”
The incisiveness of his tone shut her down. She turned her head aside. He took hold of her chin and brought it back around. “Who started the quarrel?”
She pushed his hand away from her face. “I don’t remember.”
“Yes you do.”
“What difference does it make?”
“A monumental difference. It was Jasper, right?”
She remained stubbornly silent.
He was just as stubbornly persistent. “Right?”
“All right, yes! He got angry.”
“At what?”
“At me.”
“Over what?”
“Over you!”
He recoiled and dropped his hands from her shoulders, then sat very still. “What about me?”
She reached for the mug of tea, changed her mind, and let her hand fall back onto the bed. She wet her lips. “While we were driving to the airport, Jasper picked up where he had left off the night before. He went on and on about how you couldn’t be trusted. I came to your defense. Erroneously, as it turns out.” She paused and took a swift breath to stave off a sob. “I should have listened when Jasper said you weren’t who you claimed to be. You’ve been lying all along. Everything has been a lie. You played us. Jasper. Elaine. Me.”
She jerked the covers back up and patted them into place, getting them just the way she wanted before looking at him. “Either arrest me and haul me to jail, or get out of here and leave me alone.”
She rolled onto her side and faced away from him.
She kept her eyes squeezed shut. For the longest time he didn’t move, but eventually she felt the shift of air when he stood. He switched out the lamp. In the darkness, she sensed him bending over her.
He whispered, “The kiss wasn’t a lie.” His fingers threaded through her hair and rearranged it on the pillow.
Then he left the room, closing the door softly behind him.
Chapter 24
In the kitchen, Gif was sitting at the table eating a bowl of cereal. “I helped myself,” he said to Drex, crunching.
“I’m sure she won’t mind.”
“What did you help yourself to?”
Drex, who was on his way to the back door, stopped, turned, and gave his associate a berating look.
Unfazed, Gif spooned another bite into his mouth. “I go to the bathroom, come back. You’re nowhere to be seen. I texted you. No reply. Texted Mike. He said you hadn’t shown over there. You weren’t in any of the rooms downstairs, so—”
“You’ve made your point.”
Gif polished off the cereal in two slurping spoonfuls, then pushed the bowl aside. “Is that why you maneuvered this situation? You got the detectives out of here so you could tuck her in?”
“That’s not why.”
“‘I’m thinking a night spent in the detention center,’” Gif quoted and gave an eye roll. “As if.”
“Thanks for putting up the arguments against it. They made my suggestion more credible.”
“I’ve worked with you long enough to know when you’re manipulating someone.”
“This way they went away thinking it had been their idea to leave her in our charge.”
“Oh, I get why you did it. Just don’t try to manipulate Mike and me.”
“You’re too smart for me.”
“Question is,” Gif said, and shot a glance toward the ceiling, “is she too smart for you?”
Drex backed up against the counter and crossed his arms. Staring at the toes of his shoes, he replied, “I don’t know, Gif.”
“Mike thinks she is.”
“He’s made that abundantly clear, but he mistrusts all women.”
“And all men.”
“To what avail?”
“Zip. She’s either genuinely shaken by Elaine’s death and mystified by Jasper’s vanishing act—”
“Or?”
“Or she’s a damn good con.”
“She would have learned from the master.”
“That’s what I can’t discount,” he said, no joy in his tone. “So, tomorrow morning, you and Mike will deliver her to Rudkowski.”
“Where will you be?”
“Making myself scarce.”
Gif shook his head. “Drex—”
“Don’t start, Gif. If I get anywhere near him, I had just as well cut off my dick now and deny him the pleasure.”
Gif’s silence indicated that he concurred. “What about Mike and me? What do you want us to do after dropping her off?”
“Has to be your decision, and each of you has to make up his own mind, independent of the other and me. I can’t ask you, nor do I expect you, to stick with me on this. You know the shit storm this is going to raise. Don’t underestimate Rudkowski. We did before.”
“This isn’t like that.”
“No, it’s worse. Sleep on it. Sleep on it good.” He pushed away from the counter and moved toward the door.
“Drex?”
He came back around.
“While Mike and I contemplate whether or not to stick with you or throw ourselves on Rudkowski’s mercy, it would help if we knew how you were going to deal with her if it turns out that she’s her husband’s partner in crime.”
The question was an insult. Damned if he was going to answer. “Mike will relieve you in a couple of hours.”
The following morning when Talia entered the kitchen, the three men were gathered around the dining table, so deep into their discussion that she’d been there for a while before they noticed her.
When they did, they fell silent and stared, no doubt taken aback by her appearance. She’d pulled a robe on over her pajamas, but hadn’t taken the time to groom herself before coming down.
Gif pushed back his chair and stood. “Good morning. Can I get you some coffee?”
The aroma of freshly ground beans was thick in the room, as was the yeasty scent of doughnuts. A box of them was in the center of the table. Gif nudged it in her general direction.
“Mike went out for them,” he said. “Help yourself.”
Disregarding Gif’s offers, she walked straight to the table and thumped the thick file in front of Drex, nearly upsetting the cup of coffee in front of him. “I couldn’t sleep, so I followed your suggestion to do some light reading.”
He reached for the back of the chair that Gif had vacated and motioned her into it. “Get her some coffee, please, Gif.”
She sat down in the proffered chair, not having taken her eyes off Drex since she’d come into the room. There were dark crescents under his eyes. He hadn’t slept, either.
Gif set a cup of coffee within her reach, asked if she needed anything to go in it, and she shook her head. Drex took a chocolate-covered doughnut from the box, placed it on a paper napkin, and slid it over to her.
Ignoring the coffee and doughnut, she gestured at the bulging file. “You believe that Jasper had something to do with these women who went missing?”
He folded his forearms on the table, leaned upon them, and talked for half an hour virtually uninterrupted. Occasionally he asked Mike to verify a date or place. Gif elaborated when invited to. Otherwise, her attention stayed riveted on Drex, and his on her.
“He made himself fit into the lifestyle of an oil heiress in Tulsa. By those who knew Pixie, Herb Watkins was described as having short black hair, a goatee, and liked Native American art, for which Pixie had a passion.
“For Marian, he adopted frizzy hair, probably permed, because he knew it would be reminiscent of her hippie stage and that she would find that appealing.
“Then he spotted you at her party. Learned you were very well off. Saw you as a prospect. Through Marian and his own research, he learned everything he could about you. He probably followed you, Talia. Logged where you went, where you ate, what you drank, where you shopped.
“He deduced that, as a world traveler, you would be attracted to a sophisticated gentleman who would hand-deliver flowers even if it meant driving one hundred and fifty miles. Classy dresser. Gourmet cook. A man who appreciated expensive bourbon, all the finer things in life. Goodbye Daniel Knolls and his frizz, hello Jasper Ford with the cosmopolitan ponytail.”
When he finished, she looked at each of the men in turn. Their expressions were grave. All too apparent was the depth of their conviction that Jasper was the man they sought. She didn’t deny the allegations, didn’t defend her husband, because to do so would be tantamount to accepting the horrific implication that he was indeed their culprit.
Drex asked if Marian had ever confided to her anything about her friend Daniel Knolls.
“No.”
“Nothing?”
“She was a proud and private woman. If in fact the two of them had met online, she might not have wanted it known.”
“That fits,” Drex said. “He doesn’t want a woman who would be open about it and, by talking about it, put someone on to him. If not for Mike’s memory, he wouldn’t have found the thread.”
“Must have been a boon when you introduced him to Elaine Conner,” Mike said. “He didn’t have to work quite so hard.”
She bowed her head and massaged her brow. “Before coming downstairs I called Detective Locke. They’re certain that Elaine and the man onboard the yacht got into the dinghy together. His identity and fate are still unknown.”
“I know his identity,” Drex said. “It was Jasper, and he swam ashore. I’d bet my life on it.”
She wanted not to believe it. She wanted to hear from Jasper that he had changed his travel plans, had gone somewhere else, and, after spending a remorseful and restless night, was on his way home for a reconciliation.
She wanted to rewind the clock to when they were newlyweds and she didn’t harbor a single doubt as to his character. Or, if what these federal agents believed to be true, she would wish to revert to the life she’d had before meeting him.
But time couldn’t be reversed. This was her here-and-now, and she must face this calamity head-on.
She looked at Drex. “Say that’s true, that it was Jasper on the yacht with Elaine. How did he get to the marina? Locke told me that the taxi he took from the airport dropped him at a hotel out near there.”
“He didn’t check in,” Mike said.
Locke had also told her that. “According to Locke, Jasper instructed the taxi driver to let him out a distance from the entry. I can’t fathom why.”
“To avoid security cameras,” Drex said. “He had left a car either on the hotel property or somewhere in the vicinity. He drove it back to Isle of Palms, to a predetermined spot on one of the beaches. Remote. A place that would be dark as soon as the sun went down, but within reasonable walking distance of the marina.
“He went there on foot, chose his time, and managed to board the Laney Belle without being seen. If anyone had happened to see him, they would describe a man wearing an orange baseball cap, not a man with a gray ponytail.”
“Locke said that Elaine’s neighbors at the townhouse had seen her leaving it, alone, at around five-thirty. I suppose she and Jasper had a date to meet on the yacht.”
“Not necessarily,” Drex said. “He may have called her, told her that the two of you had squabbled, and asked if he could nurse his misery, or anger, on the yacht. Something like that.”
“She would have dropped what she was doing to lend him a shoulder.”
“He would have counted on that.”
“But Elaine would have been disinclined to take the boat out in bad weather.”
“Jasper appealed to her spirit of adventure. Or sweet-talked her. ‘Please, Elaine. The ocean air will clear my head.’ Once in open water, he convinced her that there was a malfunction of equipment, or an emergency onboard that spelled peril for them if they didn’t abandon ship. Somehow he persuaded her to get into the dinghy.”
“Without her cell phone? Or his?”
“Negligible,” he said without forethought. “He would have come up with something. The weather was interfering with cell service. They were out of service range. If she questioned him about the phones, providing a logical answer would have been easy. After he killed her—we won’t know until after the autopsy by what method—he swam to shore.”
“Clothed?”
“Possibly. But maybe after dispatching Elaine, he stripped down and used something to sink his clothes. He had a change waiting for him in the car on shore. I’d wager that those articles of clothing would be nothing like what the Jasper you know would wear.”
Gif said, “He was probably long gone by the time Elaine Conner’s body was discovered.”
Talia wanted to clamp her hands over her ears and hear no more. But she had to hear it, had to deal with it, had to prepare herself for accepting the unimaginable. “Everything you’ve said is plausible. But every bit of it is assumption.”
Drex conceded that with a nod.
“You could be completely wrong.”
“Yes.”
“Then how can you theorize with such certainty that it happened that way?”
“Because that’s how I would have done it.”
The statement caused her breath to catch. All along she had intuited that there was more to Drex Easton than he let on, that he was shrewder than he pretended to be, not nearly as laid-back, that there was a dark side camouflaged by the dimple.
But she had miscalculated just how much intensity he concealed with his superficial posturing. He was a man on a mission. One had to respect his commitment. But it also filled her with foreboding.
“How long have you been after him?”
“Long time.”
“Since—?”