by Loyd, Sandy
“Maybe it’s hidden. Does Snyder know about her?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Shouldn’t you tell him?”
Jason didn’t seem to hear her. His eyes focused straight ahead as if he was lost in silent reflection. “You should retain another lawyer. I have a colleague who is every bit as qualified—”
“No!” she said, shaking her head vehemently. “I don’t want anyone else.”
“Claire. I can’t represent you.” This time he met her eyes, and she could see the seriousness reflected in his intense gaze. “It wouldn’t be smart.”
“I don’t care. I want you. I trust you.”
“I’m too close. I can’t be objective. How can I, knowing your life is at stake?”
“Then bring in another lawyer you trust to advise. But I don’t want to work with anyone else unless you’re part of it. Please, Jason. Don’t leave me.”
“Damn,” he said under his breath, and then remained deathly quiet for too long.
“I didn’t kill him,” Claire blurted when the silence became oppressive.
“If not, then someone’s gone to a lot of trouble to make it appear that way. Since you say you’re innocent, my money’s on Crystal.”
“That’s not funny.”
“Wasn’t meant to be.”
“Is that what you really believe?”
“I’m being realistic and looking at it objectively. I can’t think with my dick now. If I do, I won’t be of any use to you.”
“Go to hell.” Claire felt herself tear up, and blinked the moisture away.
“You still want me for your attorney?”
This time when he glanced over, there was nothing pleasant in his expression. His fierce blue gaze was cold. No, cold was too mild a word. More like glacial.
Claire swallowed hard as he refocused on driving. Did he think she did it? Judging by what his eyes revealed, she couldn’t be sure. She thought she knew him better. Apparently not.
“Why are you being so cruel?” she asked.
Where was the wonderful, supportive man who held her in his arms for the last two nights after giving such pleasure. Had it been just sex as it had been with Carl?
When Jason stared straight ahead without answering, Claire remained mute and turned to gaze out the window again. Neither said anything until he pulled into her driveway and stopped with the car running.
“You’re not coming in?”
“No,” he said without meeting her gaze. “I’ve got work to do.”
She blinked back more tears that threatened when he didn’t move, only stared straight ahead, obviously waiting for her to leave.
Grabbing the handle, she unlatched the lock while pushing out thoughts of all those other times Jason had been right there to hold the door open for her. It stung to know he had doubts. She climbed out of the car and leaned back inside.
“I didn’t kill Carl. If you think I did, if you have any doubts at all, then you’re right. I need to find another lawyer.”
Claire slammed the door and ran to her front entrance, trying to avoid the cameras held by the newsmen she suddenly noticed gathered outside her house.
The cool air hit Claire once she closed the door and leaned against it, feeling drained. How could Jason be so callous? She turned and kicked the door as hard as she could. Then a second later, she burst into tears because it hurt so much. Not just her foot, but also her heart.
She headed for her kitchen. Chocolate brownies called.
Having pulled out all the ingredients, she picked up the phone and punched in Crystal’s work number.
“Grayson here,” her sister said on the second ring.
“Crystal?”
“Claire? You don’t sound good. What’s going on?”
“I need moral support,” she said, knowing her twin would be there for her now that she’d made the call. “I’m baking brownies.”
Crystal laughed. “Give me an hour or two to clear my desk, and I’ll drive right over.”
“I knew I could count on you.”
“Don’t read too much into it. It’s the brownies. I can’t resist.”
“Oh, that’s right. You could always be persuaded to help me eat all the stuff I used to cook.” Claire broke off, too upset to talk for a moment. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as regret filled her. “I’m so sorry I let Carl come between us. I’ve really missed you.”
“Are you crying?”
“How’d you know?” she asked, smiling through her tears.
“Well, stop it. You’ll make me cry. I still have to look presentable when I leave and have to wade through the swarm of reporters. I don’t want to give them any fuel to add to their sensationalistic fervor.”
“You’ve got reporters too?” Apparently the vultures had made the connection, and because of her, Crystal’s life was now under the same microscope.
“Yep, I’m big news. Haven’t you heard? Channel Ten reporters have bet the News On Seven guys that I’m as guilty as sin. Someone’s going to lose a hundred bucks.”
“You can joke?” Claire sighed into the phone, her smile becoming wistful.
“Until I can eat brownies,” Crystal teased. She sighed, sobering. “It’s mental. Don’t let ’em get to you, CG.”
“So easy for you to say, CG.” Claire walked over to her patio door and look out at the water. A few herons were in her yard, close to the shore. “And I’m not CG anymore. I screwed up and added a C to my initials.”
“You’ll always be CG to me. I’m serious, Claire. Don’t look at them. Pretend they aren’t there.”
Claire spotted a reporter across the canal and flipped the slats shut. “How do I do that? God, I wish I could be more like you.”
“Ditto,” Crystal said, and then added before hanging up, “I’ll be there as quick as I can.”
Chapter 42
Jason waited until Claire was safely inside her house before putting the Mercedes into gear and punching the accelerator. He drove too fast, heading west to Highway 441 and Jimbo’s house, situated at the edge of Florida’s Everglades.
While driving, his thoughts were on the lady he’d just left, and they tore him in two.
One thing he couldn’t abide was lying; he hated all forms of deceit. Which was ironic, considering he was an attorney, but true. Claire’s deception ate at him with the speed of cancer spreading. At this moment, he wished he’d never become involved with her.
That was his dilemma. He was involved with her—very, very involved with her.
Leaving her at home alone had been the hardest thing he’d ever done, but self-preservation required that he go. He couldn’t be objective around her. Objectivity, especially when Snyder continued building an insurmountable case, was crucial. The deputy only needed one solid piece of evidence that wasn’t circumstantial. Then he’d hand the DA an airtight case.
And right now, Jason couldn’t rely on gut instinct he didn’t trust. Only distance would allow him to operate with a clear head.
Of course, the farther away from Claire he drove, the more the questions flooding his mind plagued him. Had Claire killed her husband? Was Crystal in on it? Had this been a setup from the very beginning, including his seduction?
Together, Claire and Crystal could have set the whole thing up, drugging Carl and holding him to throw off suspicion. Had they taken him to the hotel, and then planted the blood and the knife?
But that scenario didn’t hold water because Elise had visited the hotel.
What the hell was going on? Was it revenge for Carl’s screwing around? Jason knew Crystal hated Carter enough to kill, but did Claire? And where did his ex fit in?
Jason prided himself on honesty, on being able to pinpoint it in others. Was Claire lying or telling the truth? Had he been so taken in by her he hadn’t seen it coming? Was she so diabolical that she could make him fall in love with her, and then use his feelings for her own purposes?
He sighed. There was no use in denying
it. He was head over heels for Claire.
“Not good, Roberts,” he said under his breath. Not good at all.
He didn’t want to believe the woman he’d made love to could be so cold and calculating.
Yet what about the stocks? Were they a ploy? Did Claire bring attention to herself by putting the money back into her account on purpose? Or did Snyder’s assumption have a few holes?
If Claire had told him about them, he could have been ready for the deputy and torn a few more holes in the deputy’s case. As it turned out, Jason had been paddling desperately just to stay afloat when Snyder hit him with the news, a wall of water swamping him.
If the sisters didn’t do it, then someone close to Claire probably did. Snyder told him he’d ruled out those in Claire’s office as suspects. No one had motive, and everyone had solid alibis.
Jason looked at his watch. Three fifteen. Still early. He needed to talk to Gwen Anderson, Amy Denton, and others in Claire’s office. The sooner, the better. The car slowed as he took his foot off the accelerator.
He took out his cell phone and punched in the correct number. “This is Jason Roberts,” he said when he heard Claire’s assistant’s voice.
“Claire’s not in, Mr. Roberts.”
“I know. I just left her. I need to question a few people in the office, those closest to Claire and Carter. Plus, I’d like to have a word with you.”
“Now?”
“I can be there in twenty minutes. Do you think you can arrange for me to meet with a few people in the office?”
“Sure, if it will help Claire. Tell me who you need to speak to, and I’ll arrange it.”
Jason set aside the phone after disconnecting the call and quickly made a U-turn. Within fifteen minutes, he pulled into the parking lot of Claire’s Collections. In another five, he walked off the elevator and up to Amy Denton’s desk.
“Ms. Denton?” He held out his business card.
“Yes, Mr. Roberts,” she said as she took it. Her voice held humor when she added, “I think I know by now who you are.”
He nodded. “Can we go somewhere to talk? I have a few questions.”
“I’m not sure what I can add. I already talked to the deputy.”
Though she said this with a smile, he spotted a hint of wariness in her eyes that carried over to her voice.
“I’m not a cop.” He flashed his most charming smile. “Did you get your hair cut or something?” he asked after giving her a quick once-over.
“I did. You like it?”
“I do. Looks good.”
“Thanks.” She laughed and patted her head. “You’re observant. Guys don’t usually notice things like that. I got tired of making it behave in this heat. Usually, I whack it off much sooner during the summer.” She cleared her throat. This time when he met her gaze, curiosity had replaced wariness. “What kind of questions do you have?”
“Some that will help me get a feel.”
“A feel?” Her expression turned curious.
“You know, behind-the-scenes information. I’ve talked with Claire, and she’s given me a fairly good idea of the goings-on around here. Now I’m interested in your opinion, as well as a few others.”
Amy led him to a conference room where he interviewed her at length, learning nothing more than what was in Snyder’s file. After Amy left, Gwen Anderson came in.
“I heard you were asking questions,” Gwen said as she sat in the chair Amy had vacated. “Ask away.”
“Like I told Amy, I’m just being thorough. I’d like to get your opinion.”
“On what?”
“Their relationship, for one.”
She rolled her eyes. “Their relationship always seemed a bit strange, if you ask me.”
“How so?”
“Claire’s a hard worker, and Carl was the exact opposite. The guy never did a day’s work in his life, but he strutted around as if he owned the place.”
“Maybe that’s because he did.” When she gave him a questioning look, he said, “According to my information, Claire and Carl both owned the company. Isn’t that true?”
“Yes.” She shrugged. “But Claire’s always run things.”
“Still doesn’t change the fact that Carter was entitled to strut a bit.” He took out his notebook and flipped to a blank page. “How long have you worked for Claire’s Collections?”
“Four years,” she said with a bit of pride in her voice. “I was one of her first employees.”
“And you’ve been Claire’s production manager the entire time?”
“I oversee the creative department, and have for the last three years.”
“So you know her pretty well, right?”
“As well as anyone. I’m her best friend.”
“Do you think she killed Carl?”
“Claire? No way! She couldn’t.”
“Tell me about the last three months.”
“What can I add that Claire hasn’t?”
“Humor me. When I defend someone, I ask the people who are closest to give me their impressions. That way, sometimes I see things others miss. Claire told me she and Carl were trying to salvage their marriage. What was their marriage like, from your point of view?”
“A disaster waiting to happen.” When he didn’t say anything, simply waited with eyebrows raised, she explained further. “Carl may have given Claire the idea he was working on their marriage, but he hadn’t changed. The guy thought he was God’s gift to women.”
“Why’s that?”
“Carl flirted with anyone in a skirt. But not around Claire. At least, not after he went after Amy, and Claire read him the riot act when she caught wind of it.”
“What about you?”
“Me?”
“Did he flirt with you?”
“He tried to.” Gwen frowned. “But I shut him down. He was a total jerk. I always wondered why Claire put up with him for so long. Of course, she was pretty angry when she found out about the loan.” She broke off and offered him a sheepish look. “I didn’t mean to get Claire in trouble. It kind of popped out when I was talking to the officer.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. He was asking about Claire, and the days after Carl disappeared. I was trying to let Deputy Snyder know that Claire really thought he was dead. When her banker called and she found out about the loan, she knew then that something was going on, and Carl was right in the midst of it. No one could fake her anger.”
“So she was angry.”
“Oh, she was pissed, all right. Said . . . well, you already know what she said, so I don’t have to repeat it.”
Jason sighed. Claire probably did make the statement; she’d said something much like that to him when he sought her out the day they cleaned her boat. Hell, he’d be angry too if Elise had pulled shit like that. The thought took away some of his fears of her premeditation. Had she been angry enough to kill because of it, if Crystal had planned it from the beginning?
“Did you know about the stocks?”
“Yes.”
“When did you find out?”
Gwen gave a nonchalant shrug. “I know her broker called the Monday after Carl went missing because I was standing next to Amy’s desk when she answered the phone. We listened in on the conversation, hoping it was some kind of news. We’re both a little on the protective side when it comes to Claire.”
“Hmm.” He rolled that information around his brain and let it settle. Then he slanted another glance at her and said, “And you didn’t like Carl.”
Gwen scrunched up her nose in distaste. “We didn’t see eye to eye. Thank God I didn’t have to work for him too often. He was impossible to deal with.”
“Oh? How so?”
“He’d get these crazy ideas of something to add to the catalog, and throw all of the initial legwork onto either me or another assistant.” Jason didn’t say anything, just waited patiently until she added, “Then if it worked, he’d take the credit, and if it didn’t, he’d lay the blame on o
ur shoulders for its failure.”
“Can you think of any reason someone would want to kill him?” Didn’t sound as if anyone in the company liked him. Maybe Snyder hadn’t been thorough.
Jason’s stare stayed fastened on hers. Finally, she looked down and shook her head.
“No,” she said softly. “He was an annoying pig. But that’s no reason to kill him.”
He nodded and jotted down a few notes. “Just one more question, then I’ll wrap this up.”
“Okay.”
“Where were you on the night of June twenty-third from ten p.m. to one a.m.?”
“Carl actually died sometime during that time?”
“Between eleven and twelve, but I added an hour on each end,” he replied.
“You don’t think I had anything to do with it, do you? Deputy Snyder cleared me as a suspect.”
“I read the report.” Jason offered his warmest smile. “I just want to hear it again. You know, to get the feel.”
“I had a date with a hot guy that night.” She grimaced. “Turned out to be a jerk, though.”
“This guy have a name?”
“Wasn’t that in the report too?”
“Yes, but I didn’t write it down.”
“John Myers. Lousy night. That’s why I remember it so well.” She broke off a moment and then laughed. “You know, I just remembered something else. I talked to Claire that night around eleven, right after the jerk left.”
“You talked to Claire? Are you sure?”
“It sounded like her when she answered, so I assumed it was.”
“On her cell?”
“No. Her home line.”
“Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“No one asked. The deputy never mentioned a specific time, and since I just now found out about Carl’s actual time of death, it never dawned on me to volunteer it,” she said with a shrug.
Jason’s gaze never wavered. When Gwen remained silent, he prodded, “Well? Care to elaborate about the phone call?”
“The jerky guy . . . he gave me some trouble. Expected me to put out, and got kind of belligerent. Once I got rid of him, I called Claire for consolation. We talked almost an hour. You can check.”
“I will,” he murmured, and wrote the information down before closing his notebook. Then he stood. “Thanks for your help.”
