Smash Cut (14 page)
Authors: Sandra Brown
Tags: #Legal, #Suspense, #Fiction, #General, #Georgia, #Thrillers, #Rich people, #Atlanta (Ga.), #Trials (Murder), #Legal stories, #Rich People - Georgia
We married. I worked in a gallery while he painted. Eventually he began to drink more than he painted. He brought home equally drunken friends. They soothed his tortured soul and helped stave off his self-doubt. I had much less lofty opinions of them than he did.
The blush soon faded from our romance. Our lifestyle began to be less bohemian than downright seedy. And his passion turned from painting to abusing me. Only verbally, but our quarrels were fero cious. They left me feeling as weak and bruised as if theyd been physical.
Whenever Julie thought back on those days, she couldnt place herself in that situation. Her memory could reset the stage, but she couldnt feature herself as a player in the tawdry scenes. It was so alien to her life now, it seemed like a terrible nightmare that someone else had dreamed.
Sleeping with the Enemy,
she said softly. That was the title of the movie I couldnt recall. More raindrops splatted on the windshield. Larger. Louder. Wetter. One day I came home from work and caught Henri in bed with a woman, one of those unwashed, drunken ones that he kept around to boost his flagging self-confidence. She was a more sympathetic muse, it seems.
But, of course, he insisted that he was the wronged party. If Id been more supportive, not so demanding, not so critical She stopped, making a helpless gesture. You get the drift. I was to blame for his being an alcoholic, adulterer, and failure. When I argued that point, he hit me.
Out of the corner of her eye, Julie saw Dereks hand form a fist.
Only once, she said, but that was enough. I called the police and he was arrested. I later dropped the charges, but I filed for divorce. He refused to accept that I would leave him. Filled with remorse, he pleaded with me to take him back. He would work, he would be faithful, he would stop drinking. She took a breath. I wont bore you with the details, Mr. Mitchell. If you want them, you can order your investigator to dig deeper. To summarize, I was in a mess and was having trouble extricating myself from it.
Paul Wheeler to the rescue.
Yes. She turned to him. He pulled me from the mire my life was in and set me on a new path. Anything else you want to know? She expected more questions about her marriage, or Paul. He surprised her.
Why do you hate Creighton so intensely?
Youve met him and you have to ask? Do
you
like him?
Irrelevant.
Not from my viewpoint.
Why are you so sure he broke into your house tonight?
Why are you so sure he didnt?
Im not. I dont know. But you seem convinced. Why?
She folded her arms, leaned back against the car door, and appraised him. I thought lawyers never asked a question they didnt already know the answer to.
In cross-examination.
Thats what this feels like.
Does it?
Yes.
He didnt relent. Did you dislike Creighton from the time you met him?
Yes, but Paul had told me things about him, so I was prepared not to like him. He lived up to my low expectations.
There wasnt a particular episode or event that turned you against him?
She tilted her head. Which kind of question is this, Mr. Mitchell? One you know the answer to? Or one you dont?
This is curiosity.
I dont believe you.
You dont? Shucks. He grinned and said in a wheedling tone, Ive got such an honest face.
I hate to disillusion you, but your grin is anything but honest. Its the smile of a card sharp with four aces up his sleeve.
He chuckled. Ive been the target of worse insults. He waited a beat or two, then said, Just one more question. Do you wear black because youre in mourning?
The sudden shift in subject took her aback. Which he saw and took advantage of. Every time Ive seen you, youve been wearing black. On the plane, black suit. Except for the blouse. Ivory. With pearl buttons. Small, round pearl buttons.
Remembering the haste with which hed undone them, she felt a rush of blood to her face.
In your gallery, a black dress. And again tonight. His eyes moved from her low V-neckline to her hem and back up. Slinky and sexy, but still black. Is that because of Wheeler?
Its because I like wearing black.
You wear it well. You were a standout tonight amid so much color.
Like emerald green. She hesitated, then said, The lady is lovely, by the way.
Yes, she is.
Did she know that you were coming to my house after dropping her off?
No.
Moments ticked by, and the mood inside the car changed. There was a shift in the air. Or rather, no shift at all. At once, it seemed stifling and still.
I should go in. But even though she reached for the door handle, she didnt open it. It was raining in earnest now. Across the street, the hotel doorman had stepped into the lobby for shelter. Ive heard of this place, but Ive never been inside.
The logo on the canopy was the letters CH, entwined and written in gold script. Coulter House had been the original name of the estate built in the last century. Several years ago investors had converted it into an exclusive luxury hotel that catered to people with platinum cards.
Its nice, Derek said. Small but elegant. Exceptional service. Catching her inquisitive look, he added, I put out-of-town clients up here.
Jagged forks of lightning were followed instantly by crashes of thunder. They watched the storm track across the sky and listened to the rain pelt the roof of the car, but neither moved or said anything for several minutes. The windows began to fog. After a time, he asked, Did you recognize the man in the photograph?
The man in the lobby of the Moultrie? No. Not even when I saw the latest set of pictures.
Theres a set? he said. Ive only seen one.
He appeared on the security videos from days leading up to the robbery. She told him about Kimball and Sanford bringing the photographs to the gallery that morning. One of the pictures is fairly clear, but I still dont know the man. Neither Doug nor Sharon recognized him.
Creighton didnt, either.
You believe that?
I showed him the picture myself, Julie. I was watching his face for a reaction, and Im good at reading reactions. He didnt have one.
Of course he didnt! He would know you were looking for one. Dont you see? He plays roles. He
She checked herself. For the present, he was Creightons attorney. Already he was wondering if her allegations against Pauls nephew arose from nothing more than an intense dislike, or else why had he asked her about it?
She said, The TV stations were going to show the mans photo on the news tonight.
Maybe thatll shake something loose.
Maybe. In the meantime, the detectives have gone off on another tangent.
Whats that?
That I was the one who set Paul up to die in that elevator. When he didnt say anything, she asked, Cat got your tongue?
Yeah. Im speechless. I didnt see that coming.
Neither did I.
What in hell gave them that idea?
She told him about defying the robber. Apparently since I didnt drop to my knees immediately, Im high on the list of suspects.
Why didnt you kneel?
I was looking for Creighton behind the sunglasses and mask.
It wasnt him.
How many times have I heard that?
Another silence stretched between them, which only emphasized the ferocity of the storm. Finally he said, When do I get my painting?
Itll be delivered tomorrow. Its not worth anywhere near what you paid, you know.
Its an investment.
You may have to wait years for a return.
He remained indifferent. The money went to a good cause. Besides, I wanted the painting.
Whether your lady friend approved it or not.
She is my friend, he said quietly.
Its none of my business.
Then why do you keep bringing her up?
She had no response to that.
Lindsay and I met when she and my best buddy from law school got engaged, he said. I was best man in their wedding, and Im godfather to their son, Jackson. Soon after Jackson was christened, my friend was killed. Just like that. Car wreck during morning rush hour on Eighty-five. She and I helped each other get through it, and we continue to rely on each others friendship.
Sometimes, like tonight, she needs a safe, hassle-free escort to an event. And the reason she doesnt know Im here with you is that, as close as we are, I dont know what she looks like naked and never will.
Julie took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Well, youve certainly succeeded in making me feel rotten. That was what you were trying to do, right?
He closed his eyes and, frowning severely, pinched the bridge of his nose. Yeah, thats what I was trying to do.
Why?
He dropped his hand and looked at her. Because not once, not ever, have you addressed me by my first name, and Id really like it if you would. Because as of right now, Im the Wheelers attorney of record. Because youve accused one of them of several felonies, which places us on opposite sides of a legal issue. Because its inappropriate and unethical for us to be alone. Because I invented a reason to come to your house tonight just so we
could
be alone. Because Im having the devil of a time keeping my hands off you, and all I can think about is how you feel under that dress.
Moving like a spring had been released, he reached across the console and curved his hand around the back of her neck beneath her hair, drawing her toward him. Whyd you come on to me on that airplane?
You know why.
I know what you
said.
Thats why.
No other reason?
No.
Youre lying.
His mouth stamped hers, then his lips rubbed hers apart, his tongue moved against hers, and her bones seemed to melt.
The kiss was thorough and deep and sexual, not a conclusion in any sense whatsoever, but a prelude, a foretelling of what would happen unless she stopped it. Breaking free, she murmured, Please dont do this to me. Please dont. But at the same time she whispered the plea, her lips were moving against his, wanting more.
They kissed again, their mouths hotly fusing. He brushed her neck with his fingertips, then his hand dropped to her breast and caressed her through the fabric of her dress. She whimpered a protest, broke the kiss, and turned her head aside. Dont.
His thumb stroked her, eliciting the expected response, which she felt from her nipple to her womb, and it shocked her into pushing him away. No, Derek!
He released her immediately and sat back in his seat, staring at her with incomprehension, breathing hard. Well, at least that got you to say my name.
She grappled for the door handle and tugged hard. She scrambled out, her legs getting tangled in her long gown. The driving rain felt like a thousand needles pricking her exposed skin. Instantly her hair and dress became drenched. She opened the rear door and reached in to grab the duffel.
Thank you for the ride.
The blush soon faded from our romance. Our lifestyle began to be less bohemian than downright seedy. And his passion turned from painting to abusing me. Only verbally, but our quarrels were fero cious. They left me feeling as weak and bruised as if theyd been physical.
Whenever Julie thought back on those days, she couldnt place herself in that situation. Her memory could reset the stage, but she couldnt feature herself as a player in the tawdry scenes. It was so alien to her life now, it seemed like a terrible nightmare that someone else had dreamed.
Sleeping with the Enemy,
she said softly. That was the title of the movie I couldnt recall. More raindrops splatted on the windshield. Larger. Louder. Wetter. One day I came home from work and caught Henri in bed with a woman, one of those unwashed, drunken ones that he kept around to boost his flagging self-confidence. She was a more sympathetic muse, it seems.
But, of course, he insisted that he was the wronged party. If Id been more supportive, not so demanding, not so critical She stopped, making a helpless gesture. You get the drift. I was to blame for his being an alcoholic, adulterer, and failure. When I argued that point, he hit me.
Out of the corner of her eye, Julie saw Dereks hand form a fist.
Only once, she said, but that was enough. I called the police and he was arrested. I later dropped the charges, but I filed for divorce. He refused to accept that I would leave him. Filled with remorse, he pleaded with me to take him back. He would work, he would be faithful, he would stop drinking. She took a breath. I wont bore you with the details, Mr. Mitchell. If you want them, you can order your investigator to dig deeper. To summarize, I was in a mess and was having trouble extricating myself from it.
Paul Wheeler to the rescue.
Yes. She turned to him. He pulled me from the mire my life was in and set me on a new path. Anything else you want to know? She expected more questions about her marriage, or Paul. He surprised her.
Why do you hate Creighton so intensely?
Youve met him and you have to ask? Do
you
like him?
Irrelevant.
Not from my viewpoint.
Why are you so sure he broke into your house tonight?
Why are you so sure he didnt?
Im not. I dont know. But you seem convinced. Why?
She folded her arms, leaned back against the car door, and appraised him. I thought lawyers never asked a question they didnt already know the answer to.
In cross-examination.
Thats what this feels like.
Does it?
Yes.
He didnt relent. Did you dislike Creighton from the time you met him?
Yes, but Paul had told me things about him, so I was prepared not to like him. He lived up to my low expectations.
There wasnt a particular episode or event that turned you against him?
She tilted her head. Which kind of question is this, Mr. Mitchell? One you know the answer to? Or one you dont?
This is curiosity.
I dont believe you.
You dont? Shucks. He grinned and said in a wheedling tone, Ive got such an honest face.
I hate to disillusion you, but your grin is anything but honest. Its the smile of a card sharp with four aces up his sleeve.
He chuckled. Ive been the target of worse insults. He waited a beat or two, then said, Just one more question. Do you wear black because youre in mourning?
The sudden shift in subject took her aback. Which he saw and took advantage of. Every time Ive seen you, youve been wearing black. On the plane, black suit. Except for the blouse. Ivory. With pearl buttons. Small, round pearl buttons.
Remembering the haste with which hed undone them, she felt a rush of blood to her face.
In your gallery, a black dress. And again tonight. His eyes moved from her low V-neckline to her hem and back up. Slinky and sexy, but still black. Is that because of Wheeler?
Its because I like wearing black.
You wear it well. You were a standout tonight amid so much color.
Like emerald green. She hesitated, then said, The lady is lovely, by the way.
Yes, she is.
Did she know that you were coming to my house after dropping her off?
No.
Moments ticked by, and the mood inside the car changed. There was a shift in the air. Or rather, no shift at all. At once, it seemed stifling and still.
I should go in. But even though she reached for the door handle, she didnt open it. It was raining in earnest now. Across the street, the hotel doorman had stepped into the lobby for shelter. Ive heard of this place, but Ive never been inside.
The logo on the canopy was the letters CH, entwined and written in gold script. Coulter House had been the original name of the estate built in the last century. Several years ago investors had converted it into an exclusive luxury hotel that catered to people with platinum cards.
Its nice, Derek said. Small but elegant. Exceptional service. Catching her inquisitive look, he added, I put out-of-town clients up here.
Jagged forks of lightning were followed instantly by crashes of thunder. They watched the storm track across the sky and listened to the rain pelt the roof of the car, but neither moved or said anything for several minutes. The windows began to fog. After a time, he asked, Did you recognize the man in the photograph?
The man in the lobby of the Moultrie? No. Not even when I saw the latest set of pictures.
Theres a set? he said. Ive only seen one.
He appeared on the security videos from days leading up to the robbery. She told him about Kimball and Sanford bringing the photographs to the gallery that morning. One of the pictures is fairly clear, but I still dont know the man. Neither Doug nor Sharon recognized him.
Creighton didnt, either.
You believe that?
I showed him the picture myself, Julie. I was watching his face for a reaction, and Im good at reading reactions. He didnt have one.
Of course he didnt! He would know you were looking for one. Dont you see? He plays roles. He
She checked herself. For the present, he was Creightons attorney. Already he was wondering if her allegations against Pauls nephew arose from nothing more than an intense dislike, or else why had he asked her about it?
She said, The TV stations were going to show the mans photo on the news tonight.
Maybe thatll shake something loose.
Maybe. In the meantime, the detectives have gone off on another tangent.
Whats that?
That I was the one who set Paul up to die in that elevator. When he didnt say anything, she asked, Cat got your tongue?
Yeah. Im speechless. I didnt see that coming.
Neither did I.
What in hell gave them that idea?
She told him about defying the robber. Apparently since I didnt drop to my knees immediately, Im high on the list of suspects.
Why didnt you kneel?
I was looking for Creighton behind the sunglasses and mask.
It wasnt him.
How many times have I heard that?
Another silence stretched between them, which only emphasized the ferocity of the storm. Finally he said, When do I get my painting?
Itll be delivered tomorrow. Its not worth anywhere near what you paid, you know.
Its an investment.
You may have to wait years for a return.
He remained indifferent. The money went to a good cause. Besides, I wanted the painting.
Whether your lady friend approved it or not.
She is my friend, he said quietly.
Its none of my business.
Then why do you keep bringing her up?
She had no response to that.
Lindsay and I met when she and my best buddy from law school got engaged, he said. I was best man in their wedding, and Im godfather to their son, Jackson. Soon after Jackson was christened, my friend was killed. Just like that. Car wreck during morning rush hour on Eighty-five. She and I helped each other get through it, and we continue to rely on each others friendship.
Sometimes, like tonight, she needs a safe, hassle-free escort to an event. And the reason she doesnt know Im here with you is that, as close as we are, I dont know what she looks like naked and never will.
Julie took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Well, youve certainly succeeded in making me feel rotten. That was what you were trying to do, right?
He closed his eyes and, frowning severely, pinched the bridge of his nose. Yeah, thats what I was trying to do.
Why?
He dropped his hand and looked at her. Because not once, not ever, have you addressed me by my first name, and Id really like it if you would. Because as of right now, Im the Wheelers attorney of record. Because youve accused one of them of several felonies, which places us on opposite sides of a legal issue. Because its inappropriate and unethical for us to be alone. Because I invented a reason to come to your house tonight just so we
could
be alone. Because Im having the devil of a time keeping my hands off you, and all I can think about is how you feel under that dress.
Moving like a spring had been released, he reached across the console and curved his hand around the back of her neck beneath her hair, drawing her toward him. Whyd you come on to me on that airplane?
You know why.
I know what you
said.
Thats why.
No other reason?
No.
Youre lying.
His mouth stamped hers, then his lips rubbed hers apart, his tongue moved against hers, and her bones seemed to melt.
The kiss was thorough and deep and sexual, not a conclusion in any sense whatsoever, but a prelude, a foretelling of what would happen unless she stopped it. Breaking free, she murmured, Please dont do this to me. Please dont. But at the same time she whispered the plea, her lips were moving against his, wanting more.
They kissed again, their mouths hotly fusing. He brushed her neck with his fingertips, then his hand dropped to her breast and caressed her through the fabric of her dress. She whimpered a protest, broke the kiss, and turned her head aside. Dont.
His thumb stroked her, eliciting the expected response, which she felt from her nipple to her womb, and it shocked her into pushing him away. No, Derek!
He released her immediately and sat back in his seat, staring at her with incomprehension, breathing hard. Well, at least that got you to say my name.
She grappled for the door handle and tugged hard. She scrambled out, her legs getting tangled in her long gown. The driving rain felt like a thousand needles pricking her exposed skin. Instantly her hair and dress became drenched. She opened the rear door and reached in to grab the duffel.
Thank you for the ride.
Derek watched her run across the street, stumbling on her gown until she gathered it up in her hand and raised it to her knees. The doorman saw her coming and rushed out to meet her with an open umbrella. Together they entered the lobby through the revolving door.
Derek let fly a spate of obscenities. He wanted to gun his cars engine, peel out fast enough to make the tires smoke, show her just how angry he was.
It would be an adolescent thing to do, but he felt as callow as an adolescent. Necking in the front seat of his car and fogging up the windows. Copping a feel across the console. That was suave. That was mature.
That was bullshit was what that was.
He couldnt believe hed resorted to it. But when he gave that pathetic summation of his frustrations over their situation, he could have sworn she looked as unhappy about it as he, as hungry for another taste, another touch.
So hed gone with his instincts, and tasted and touched, and goddammit if he didnt believe that shed wanted him to. He couldnt be wrong about that. Not twice. On the plane and tonight, shed been into him as much as hed been into her. Dead lover or not, she had wanted him.
Or he was a prize chump, and she was the schemer that Creighton had said she was? She took every opportunity to disparage Pauls nephew, even going so far as to accuse him of being behind the murder. Indisputably Creighton was a condescending and arrogant son of a bitch, but hed been conditioned to be. You couldnt grow up being that rich without assuming a strong sense of entitlement.
But was he a criminal? A man who would frighten a woman in a parking garage and break into her house just to mess with her head? Was he capable of conspiring to have his uncle executed?
One thing bothered Derek a lot. So far, Creightons behavior had been obnoxious, but Derek had no reason to believe that he was blameworthy of a crime. Whereas Julie He knew firsthand how capable she was of duplicity. Was it as Creighton had said? Was she a woman scorned who saw an opportunity to get vengeance, in spades, on the man whod rejected her in the pool house of his parents mansion?
The argument could be made that if she had come on to Paul Wheelers nephew while Wheeler was within earshot, she wouldnt have had any compunction against fucking a stranger in an airplane lavatory less than two weeks after his coffin had been sealed.
Inside Dereks head, Creightons words echoed.
She would screw a dog if she thought it would benefit her.
Derek let fly a spate of obscenities. He wanted to gun his cars engine, peel out fast enough to make the tires smoke, show her just how angry he was.
It would be an adolescent thing to do, but he felt as callow as an adolescent. Necking in the front seat of his car and fogging up the windows. Copping a feel across the console. That was suave. That was mature.
That was bullshit was what that was.
He couldnt believe hed resorted to it. But when he gave that pathetic summation of his frustrations over their situation, he could have sworn she looked as unhappy about it as he, as hungry for another taste, another touch.
So hed gone with his instincts, and tasted and touched, and goddammit if he didnt believe that shed wanted him to. He couldnt be wrong about that. Not twice. On the plane and tonight, shed been into him as much as hed been into her. Dead lover or not, she had wanted him.
Or he was a prize chump, and she was the schemer that Creighton had said she was? She took every opportunity to disparage Pauls nephew, even going so far as to accuse him of being behind the murder. Indisputably Creighton was a condescending and arrogant son of a bitch, but hed been conditioned to be. You couldnt grow up being that rich without assuming a strong sense of entitlement.
But was he a criminal? A man who would frighten a woman in a parking garage and break into her house just to mess with her head? Was he capable of conspiring to have his uncle executed?
One thing bothered Derek a lot. So far, Creightons behavior had been obnoxious, but Derek had no reason to believe that he was blameworthy of a crime. Whereas Julie He knew firsthand how capable she was of duplicity. Was it as Creighton had said? Was she a woman scorned who saw an opportunity to get vengeance, in spades, on the man whod rejected her in the pool house of his parents mansion?
The argument could be made that if she had come on to Paul Wheelers nephew while Wheeler was within earshot, she wouldnt have had any compunction against fucking a stranger in an airplane lavatory less than two weeks after his coffin had been sealed.
Inside Dereks head, Creightons words echoed.
She would screw a dog if she thought it would benefit her.
Ariel Williams called the hotline number three times and hung up three times. She rested her forehead on the perforated metal mount ing of the pay telephone and wiped her damp palms on the legs of her jeans.
She didnt want to do this. She
did not
want to become involved. Even though shed gone out in the middle of a stormy night to find a pay telephone, so the call couldnt be traced to her phone, she was afraid that some freakishly high-tech system using satellites or something would lead the police straight to her door.
She didnt need another shock tonight. Shed suffered a huge one when, mere hours after Billys heavy-breathing call, his picture had popped up on her TV screen. Shed dropped the spoon into her bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, at first thinking that her eyes were playing tricks on her. Was he so inescapable that she was imagining him in every shadow and behind every tree?
The photo was blurry and the angle wasnt great. Hed done something weird to his hair. His flashy clothes had been replaced with very ordinary ones. But there was absolutely no doubt in her mind that it was Billy Duke. The police were looking for him in connection with a robbery and fatal shooting, asking anyone with information to notify them immediately.
She had called Carol and shared her alarm. Carol had urged her not to do anything, at least not before shed slept on it and considered the consequences of becoming involved. Hes somebody elses problem now.
Shed reminded Ariel of the additional locks on the house, which had allayed her panic somewhat. But not her conscience. It ate at her until she could stand it no longer. Carols advice notwithstanding, Ariel knew what she must do.
So here she was.
Nervously, she glanced over her shoulder through the grimy glass of the telephone booth, one of the few remaining in the whole city. The rain was torrential, the lightning menacing. Each time it flashed, she cringed. Few cars were on the streets. It wasnt a night to be out for any reason, no matter how important.
Even once shed resolved to do what her conscience dictated, shed tried to talk herself into waiting until morning to call the hotline number. By then, someone else might already have identified Billy. Maybe she would hear on the morning news that hed been ap prehended and was in police custody, relieving her of all responsibility.
But what if no one else recognized him? If he was involved in the killing of Paul Wheeler, it was her civic duty to report what she knew, and to do so immediately. Wheeler had been a notable citizen, a generous benefactor of numerous charities. She hadnt known him, of course, but according to all shed read and heard about him, hed been a decent and well-respected man. But no matter who he was, or how much money he had, he hadnt deserved to be killed like that.
Shed seen that lady on TV, the one whod been with Paul Wheeler when he got shot, and it had broken Ariels heart to see how torn up shed been to lose the man she loved in such a violent way.
Civic duty aside, Ariel was doing this for that poor lady.
She willed herself to redial the hotline number.
After only two rings it was answered by a policewoman who identified herself by name but otherwise sounded bored. Since the news story had aired, there was no telling how many complete fruitcakes had called in. She probably expected Ariel to be one, too.
Are you the person I talk to about the man in the picture? The one they showed on TV tonight?
Yes, I am. Your name, please?
You dont need my name.
It will be kept anonymous.
You dont need my name, Ariel argued reasonably. But if you want his, I can give it to you.
She didnt want to do this. She
did not
want to become involved. Even though shed gone out in the middle of a stormy night to find a pay telephone, so the call couldnt be traced to her phone, she was afraid that some freakishly high-tech system using satellites or something would lead the police straight to her door.
She didnt need another shock tonight. Shed suffered a huge one when, mere hours after Billys heavy-breathing call, his picture had popped up on her TV screen. Shed dropped the spoon into her bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, at first thinking that her eyes were playing tricks on her. Was he so inescapable that she was imagining him in every shadow and behind every tree?
The photo was blurry and the angle wasnt great. Hed done something weird to his hair. His flashy clothes had been replaced with very ordinary ones. But there was absolutely no doubt in her mind that it was Billy Duke. The police were looking for him in connection with a robbery and fatal shooting, asking anyone with information to notify them immediately.
She had called Carol and shared her alarm. Carol had urged her not to do anything, at least not before shed slept on it and considered the consequences of becoming involved. Hes somebody elses problem now.
Shed reminded Ariel of the additional locks on the house, which had allayed her panic somewhat. But not her conscience. It ate at her until she could stand it no longer. Carols advice notwithstanding, Ariel knew what she must do.
So here she was.
Nervously, she glanced over her shoulder through the grimy glass of the telephone booth, one of the few remaining in the whole city. The rain was torrential, the lightning menacing. Each time it flashed, she cringed. Few cars were on the streets. It wasnt a night to be out for any reason, no matter how important.
Even once shed resolved to do what her conscience dictated, shed tried to talk herself into waiting until morning to call the hotline number. By then, someone else might already have identified Billy. Maybe she would hear on the morning news that hed been ap prehended and was in police custody, relieving her of all responsibility.
But what if no one else recognized him? If he was involved in the killing of Paul Wheeler, it was her civic duty to report what she knew, and to do so immediately. Wheeler had been a notable citizen, a generous benefactor of numerous charities. She hadnt known him, of course, but according to all shed read and heard about him, hed been a decent and well-respected man. But no matter who he was, or how much money he had, he hadnt deserved to be killed like that.
Shed seen that lady on TV, the one whod been with Paul Wheeler when he got shot, and it had broken Ariels heart to see how torn up shed been to lose the man she loved in such a violent way.
Civic duty aside, Ariel was doing this for that poor lady.
She willed herself to redial the hotline number.
After only two rings it was answered by a policewoman who identified herself by name but otherwise sounded bored. Since the news story had aired, there was no telling how many complete fruitcakes had called in. She probably expected Ariel to be one, too.
Are you the person I talk to about the man in the picture? The one they showed on TV tonight?
Yes, I am. Your name, please?
You dont need my name.
It will be kept anonymous.
You dont need my name, Ariel argued reasonably. But if you want his, I can give it to you.
CHAPTER
14
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American Curls by Nancy Springer
Remix (2010) by Lexi Revellian
The Firehills by Steve Alten
The Turquoise Ledge by Leslie Marmon Silko