Murder in Plain Sight (17 page)

Closer—in another step he’d yank open the door. She’d be trapped. Helpless. Her fingers touched the smooth surface of the seat-belt latch. Fumbled, pressed the button.

Release. She shoved at the air bag, diving for
the passenger seat, pulling herself over, toward the door, toward safety, but she couldn’t make it, there wasn’t enough time…

Dear God, if you’re there, if you care, help me.

Metal clanged. He was reaching for the handle, he…

And then he was gone, scrambling up the bank. She pulled herself around, trying to see who it was, but he was nothing but a dark figure melting into the shadows.

Then she realized why he’d run. Headlights, coming fast down the road from the direction she’d come. A car door slammed. The assailant was gone, speeding toward town without lights.

The oncoming car…no, truck…stopped with a scream of brakes. The inside light came on as Trey leaped from the seat, leaving the door hanging open, the motor running as he rushed to her.

Thank you,
she breathed.
Thank you.

He was there in a second, pulling the door open, calling her name. “Jessica. Are you all right?”

“I…I think so.” She hadn’t had time to decide that, intent only on getting away. Now she flexed muscles, moved arms and legs, tried to assess damages. “Bruised. I think that’s all.” She gave a shaky
laugh that ended on a sob. “Thank goodness for air bags.”

“Thank goodness I decided to come after you when Mom told me you’d gone off alone.” His voice roughened with emotion.

She moved, trying to get out, but her legs seemed to have turned to rubber. Trey leaned in, his hands gentle as he disentangled her from the air bag and lifted her from the car.

Once she was on her feet, leaning against the car, he let his breath out in a whoosh of air.

“He could have killed you.” Anger threaded through the concern in his voice. “What possessed you to leave the house alone at night?”

“I thought…” Her voice sounded too weak. She stopped, started again, stronger. “Did you see him?”

“Not to identify.” The words sounded as if he bit them. “This is crazy. Why is he after you? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“None of it makes sense.” She touched her face, wincing a little. Brush burns, it felt like, and she was probably going to have a black eye tomorrow. “If he thinks I know something, he’s wrong.”

“Come on.” He put his arm around her. “The E.R.—”

“No, not again.” She stiffened. “I’m all right. Just take me home.” Her voice broke on the words. Home. How could she think of Geneva’s house as home?

Trey made a sound deep in his throat. Then he pulled her into his arms and held her close, his heart beating strong and sure against her cheek.

“D
O YOU REALLY WANT
to do this?” Leo peered at Jessica anxiously, his bushy white eyebrows drawing down in a frown. “Maybe you ought to wait a bit longer before speaking to the press.”

“I’ve waited as long as I dare to. The trial date is coming up too fast, and so far we don’t have enough to mount a convincing defense.”

It had been two days since they’d discovered the connection between the note she’d received and Cherry’s death, and despite what seemed a definite link, they had nothing to take to court. She had, finally, taken the photo and the note to the district attorney, where she’d been met with polite disbelief.

The D.A. had gone so far as to offer a plea bargain, but it had been so stiff as to amount to an insult. Apparently he felt confident in his ability to explain away the drug in Thomas’s system. As
for the photo…he’d implied that a jury would laugh that out of court.

Leo hadn’t found out anything more about a resurgence of the brotherhood; Bobby had been unsuccessful in tracing the pendant.

As for Trey—after the promise that seemed implicit in the way he’d held her the night she’d been hurled off the road, he’d withdrawn. From her, from the case, everything. A wall had come up between them, a wall she had no idea how to breach.

“The only possibility I can come up with is to go public with the sign of the raven. Maybe it will mean something to someone.”

She glanced into the mirror of her compact, aware of the murmur of voices in Leo’s outer office. The press had arrived, and she was about to appear before television cameras looking as if she’d been in a prize fight. The black eye was spectacular, to say the least, and all the makeup in the world wouldn’t hide it.

“Well, if you’re sure.” Doubt laced Leo’s voice.

“I’m not, but I’m going to do it anyway.” She spared a brief thought for Henderson, Dawes and Henderson, who undoubtedly would not approve. Henderson Senior had been on the phone to her
only yesterday, wondering why she hadn’t persuaded her client to accept the D.A.’s offer.

She couldn’t let that matter to her. Her obligation was to her client, no one else. She took a deep breath, seized the doorknob and stepped into the lion’s den.

It wasn’t quite as bad as she anticipated, maybe because of that black eye. The reporters stared at it with ill-concealed curiosity, obviously just waiting until her prepared statement was over to ask about it.

Until she showed the enlargements she’d made of the note she received and the necklace from the crime scene. Cameras flashed, questions erupted and the television reporter thrust a microphone in her face.

“Are you seriously suggesting that a secret society is responsible for Cherry Wilson’s death?” Disdain was clear in her tone.

“No, of course not.” Jessica had to raise her voice to be heard over the babble of questions. “I am suggesting that this symbol of the raven meant enough to the killer that he replicated it. And since it appeared on a note left for me after Thomas Esch was arrested, Thomas clearly didn’t write it. That has to mean something.”

“Ms. Langdon, you want to tell us where you got that shiner?” One of the print reporters this time.

“My car was run off the road two nights ago,” she said, keeping her voice noncommittal.

“You think that’s related to this threat you supposedly received?”

Her lips tightened. “The threat was real, as was the vandalism to my car.” No point belaboring the point. They’d believe what they wanted to. The important thing was to get her message out.

She looked straight at the television camera. “I’m making a plea for information. If anyone out there knows anything about this symbol, anything at all, we hope that you’ll call us.” She gave the number of Leo’s office.

She managed a smile for the rest of the reporters. “I think that’s all. Thank you for your attention.” She escaped into the inner office while they clamored for one more answer.

Shutting the door, she leaned against it, looking at Leo. “What do you think?”

He gave her a hug. “Good job, Jessica. Good job.”

“Let’s just hope it
does
some good. If not…” If not, what had she risked by making that plea? She wasn’t sure.

The noise from the outer office died away. It had barely faded when the door was yanked open behind her, nearly sending her toppling.

“Why on earth did you do that?” Trey’s anger spurted out, fury coloring his voice. “Are you crazy?”

T
REY FOUGHT THE MIXED
emotions that battered at him. This wasn’t him. He didn’t lose control. He always kept it together. But when he’d heard what Jessica intended to do—

He took a breath, halting the words that pressed on his lips. Leo was peering over his glasses, as if studying a curiosity. And Jessica…Jessica stared at him, looking at once startled and vulnerable.

He wanted to tell her. He wanted to make her understand why he’d been afraid…a bone-chilling, paralyzing fear…ever since she’d pointed out the sign of the raven next to Cherry’s body.

“Trey, I had to.” Jessica, overcoming her surprise at his impetuous entrance, came toward him. “Don’t you understand? If we can just find someone who knows what the sign means, maybe we can unravel this.”

That was exactly what he had to prevent. He had to protect his mother. His father’s suicide had
devastated her. If she had to withstand another blow about the man she’d loved, Trey wasn’t sure how she’d survive.

“Trey?”

He’d been silent too long. “I’m sorry, Jessica.” Her expression shook him—caring. Loving. “I’m afraid for you. You’re setting yourself up as a target.” That was true enough, at least, even if it wasn’t the whole story.

“I’ve been a target, remember? At least now that the business about the symbol is out in the open, the killer has no reason to go after me.”

“She’s probably right, you know.” Leo stood. “But I think I’d better let the two of you argue it out.” He went quickly to the outer office, closing the door firmly behind him.

Trey ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe I’m overreacting, but when my mother told me what you planned to do, it scared me. I can’t help but think…” He stopped, because she was shaking her head.

“No, Trey. That’s not what’s going on. You’ve been pulling away since the moment we made the connection with the symbol.”

“No.”

“Yes.” She put her hand on his wrist, gripping
him urgently. “Trey, what is it? What does that symbol mean to you?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head, knowing he was giving himself away with every breath.

“Don’t shut me out.” Her lips compressed. “Tell me, whatever it is. Help me understand how you could tell me we were in this together one minute and then pull away from me the next.”

That punched him right in the heart. “I didn’t intend to do that. I meant everything I said to you.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.” He caught both her hands in his. “I’m sorry. I just—”

He turned away, walked blindly until he reached a filing cabinet and braced his hands against it. This was no good. He had to tell her. He sucked in a breath.

“Okay. You’re right. When you showed us that picture of the chain in the shape of a bird…it was familiar to me. When I found my father’s body, his tie was lying on the table—twisted into the same shape.”

Silence, so dense he could hear the thudding of his own heart. And then she moved next to him. Put her hand over his.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice choked a little. “Trey, I’m sorry. I never imagined.”

“No. I didn’t either.” He let out another breath. “My father was the most honorable man I ever knew. He couldn’t have been involved in anything wrong. But that symbol—” He shook his head, sure of only one thing. “My mother can’t know about this. His suicide was devastating enough. I can’t let her be hurt again.”

“Trey, you’re not thinking straight. There could be some innocent explanation.”

“Like what? If Dad was involved with this society, if his name comes up in connection with Cherry’s death, don’t you see how that would hurt her?”

She drew back a little. “You’re underestimating your mother. She’s a lot stronger than you think.”

“You think I’m overprotective, is that it?” A distance seemed to have opened between them, and he stared at her across it.

She stiffened. “Yes. I do. I know how much you love your mother, but you’re treating her as if she were a child.”

“You don’t know anything about it.” He snapped the words and was instantly sorry, realizing how that must sound. “Jessica, I didn’t mean that.”

She took a careful step away. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? You have to put your mother first. I have to put my client first. That’s the way it is.”

He wanted to say something, anything, that would bridge the chasm that had opened between them, but he had a feeling anything he said would just make matters worse. His jaw clenched. Then he turned and walked out of the office.

J
ESSICA DIDN’T HAVE TIME
to vent. Leo came back in almost immediately after Trey left. Well, it was his office, after all. He probably wanted to get on with the sorting and packing he was doing as he prepared for his retirement.

Leo glanced at her, seeming to register the fact that something was wrong. But he refrained from comment, sitting down and pulling over the file box he was sorting.

It was an effort to keep a calm facade when what she wanted to do was crawl into a corner. But what she’d said to Trey was true. From the moment they’d met, the same barrier had stood between them. His loyalty was to his mother and hers to her client, and that seemed destined to put them on a collision course.

How could a relationship between them ever
have worked? Trey had to control everyone in his orbit. Oh, he probably didn’t think of it that way. He thought he was protecting, thought he was doing what was best.

But she’d learned the hard way that the only person she could rely on was herself. She couldn’t ever be the kind of woman Trey needed, even if she had turned to him for support.

No, it was better this way. But it would be a long time before she stopped hurting. Before she stopped thinking of what might have been.

Somewhat to her surprise, calls began to come into the office as soon as the noon news had aired. Apparently a number of people had opinions on the symbol, none of which seemed very helpful.

And, of course, there were the requisite number of crank calls. After the third suggestion that the symbol was a message from outer space, she looked across at Leo and lifted her eyebrows.

“Was I crazy to do this?”

“Not crazy,” he assured her. “But you did bring the crazies out of the woodwork. And we should weed through all of the calls, just in case.”

“Except the outer space ones,” she amended. “I draw the line there.”

The smile lingered on her face when her cell
phone rang. It disappeared when she saw that the caller was Mr. Henderson. Taking a deep breath, she answered.

Henderson didn’t waste time on pleasantries. He was furious, as furious as Trey had been, but where Trey was hot, Henderson was cold.

“You are making a spectacle of yourself. More important, of this firm.”

“Sir, I—”

“You were given a simple task, one any first-year law student should have been able to handle. Make a deal with the district attorney, do the best you can for the client and get out. What is so difficult about that?”

Anger began to stir under the intimidation. “Nothing, except for one small fact. I believe my client is innocent.”

“Innocent. And do you have any evidence to back that up, other than this fairy tale about a secret society?” He sounded as if the words tasted sour on his tongue.

“Not evidence, exactly—”

“Then stop this nonsense. You’re not doing the client any good, and you’re holding the firm up to ridicule. Talk to the district attorney—no, better
yet, just come back to the city. I’ll send someone else to make a deal.”

Her heart seemed to stop for a moment. “You can’t do that.”

“This is my firm.” His voice froze. “I will do as I see fit.”

“The client will never agree.” She hoped. How long would Thomas stand up against a lawyer determined to make him plead guilty?

“Then you’d better find a way to make him agree. Do that, now, or your association with Henderson, Dawes and Henderson is at an end. Do you understand me?”

She closed her eyes, seeing her father’s face against the blackness. Disappointed. But then, when had he not been disappointed in her?

She couldn’t kid herself. If Henderson let her go under a cloud, she wouldn’t find another firm eager to accept her. The career she’d always wanted could be at an end.

“No.” The word was out before she’d even thought it through, but she knew it was right.

“No? What do you mean?”

“I will not let my client down for the sake of sparing the firm embarrassment,” she said, her voice surprisingly clear.

“Then your association with us is ended as of now,” he said promptly. “As for your client—feel free to take him with you. Just make sure that everyone knows that you are no longer acting as a member of this firm.”

“Very well.” If he said anything about her father, she’d…she wasn’t sure what she’d do.

But he didn’t. Apparently he was just as eager to end the call as she was. He clicked off, no doubt to begin spreading the word that her embarrassing conduct did not represent Henderson, Dawes and Henderson.

She tossed the cell phone onto her desk, not sure what she felt. She glanced at Leo. He’d obviously heard enough to understand what happened.

“I’m sorry.” He hesitated. “But if you’ll forgive my saying so, I never did think you were a good match with them.”

“Maybe not.” It was too bad that her father would never share that opinion.

“Are you all right?”

She considered. She’d just lost the man she thought she loved and been fired by her firm. She ought to feel miserable.

“I think so,” she said slowly. Deep inside, the conviction was growing. She had done the right
thing. No matter what anyone else said or thought, no matter what it cost, she’d done the right thing.

J
ESSICA STAYED ON AT
the office after Leo left that afternoon. He was bound for home and grumbling about the rest his doctor insisted upon, muttering that he was being treated like a two-year-old.

She didn’t really have a reason to stay. The phone calls trickled off. The truth was that she couldn’t bear the thought of going back to Geneva’s house.

She’d have to go through with her plans to move out. That was the only possible thing to do, and now even Trey would agree to that. But her stomach tightened into a knot at the thought of trying to explain her reasons to Geneva. She couldn’t tell Geneva the truth, and the woman had an uncanny knack of knowing all the things a person wasn’t telling her.

The telephone rang. Since Leo’s secretary had left when he did, she picked up. To her surprise, it was Bobby Stephens.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” he seemed tentative, as always. “But there’s something I need to talk with you about.”

“That’s fine, Bobby.” She found herself sounding
a little overly reassuring. Bobby’s hangdog air seemed to bring that out in her. “I have time to talk now.”

“Not over the phone,” he said, rushing the words as if he thought someone might be listening in.

She suppressed a sigh. “Maybe at Geneva’s—”

“No, no, I can’t talk about this there. Once I tell you, you’ll understand. Why don’t we meet in the restaurant at the inn? It’ll be quiet this time of day.”

At least that had the virtue of keeping her from sitting here feeling sorry for herself. And it delayed the time when she’d have to return to the house.

“That’s fine.” She glanced at her watch. “I can be there in about fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll see you then.” He hung up before she could ask him again what this was all about.

She shut down her laptop and slipped it into the case. Bobby had offered to track down the origins of Cherry’s pendant. She hadn’t thought it much more than busywork, but was it possible that he’d actually found something?

A thread of excitement ran through her as she headed for the car. Maybe she’d catch a break at last in this case.

She walked into the inn’s dining room in a little
less than the fifteen minutes she’d allowed, but Bobby was there before her. He stood as she approached the table. As he’d said, they had the place to themselves.

He held out her chair as solicitously as if she were ninety-five. “Thank you so much for coming, Jessica. I hate to burden you with this, but I honestly didn’t know who else to talk to.”

“You have my curiosity going now.” She smiled as he sat down opposite her at the small round table. “Have you found something?”

He glanced at the waitress who was approaching the table. “We’d better wait until we won’t be disturbed.”

Milly Cotter smiled at Jessica in recognition. “Good afternoon, folks. What can I get for you today?”

“Just an iced tea,” Jessica said, eager to get on with this.

“Coffee for me.” Bobby looked troubled. “But are you sure you won’t have something else? A piece of pie, maybe? Or a sandwich?”

“Nothing else, thanks.”

“Coming right up.” Milly scurried away.

Jessica studied Bobby’s face. Behind the thick glasses, his eyes held a sort of troubled excitement.
Apprehension snaked down her spine. He had the air of one who’d gone looking for a mouse and found a boa constrictor.

“Won’t you tell me…” She let that die off, because Milly was approaching with their drinks.

It was only when the server had disappeared through the doors to the kitchen that Bobby stopped fiddling with his teaspoon.

“That’s better. Now we can talk.”

“Why all the secrecy? Have you actually found something relevant to Thomas’s case?”

“In a way.” He was maddeningly evasive. “I guess you could say that, though I don’t know that it’s actually going to help.”

She took a firm hold on her patience. “Why don’t you tell me and let me decide?”

“Well, you remember I said I’d try to trace that raven symbol—the pendant—that you got from Cherry’s friend?”

He made it a question, and she nodded.

“I thought it might turn up on the Web. You know, most dealers use the Internet these days. So that’s where I started. You’d be surprised at the number of people who are interested in hex signs. And memorabilia from secret societies.”

“I can imagine. People collect all kinds of
things.” And when was he going to get to the point?