Taken to the Edge Page 3

  “They’re late,” Raleigh said.

  “Probably stuck in traffic.”

  “I’ve been digging around in the backgrounds of these two ladies. The first Mrs. Jasperson has a juvenile record, sealed. The second is no angel, either. She’s been charged with everything from public intoxication to disturbing the peace to solicitation.”

  “Solicitation? I thought those were just rumors.” What was it with rich men and their prostitutes?

  “The charge didn’t stick. I think she was more of a party girl—sleeping with rich men in return for nice dinners out, clothes, jewelry. Eldon apparently had an appetite for bad girls.”

  “But by the time Robyn married him, she’d turned her life around.” He’d done some digging around of his own. Robyn had gone to college and was now a teacher. Who would have guessed?

  “Robyn, is it? First names?”

  “She’s an old friend. Well, acquaintance, anyway. I can tell you what’s in her juvey record. Shoplifting, underage drinking, misdemeanor possession. But she went through one of those ‘Scared Straight’ programs and turned herself around.”

  Raleigh raised one skeptical eyebrow at Ford. “How do you know so much?”

  “I went to high school with her,” he admitted. “Green Prairie High was a good school, not too many troublemakers. Robyn was the exception.” She had alternately fascinated him and horrified him. That a pretty, intelligent girl like Robyn would have such disregard for her future, that she would choose to hang around slackers, losers and dopers, confused the hell out of him.

  He’d tried reaching out to her. He’d caught her alone for once, sitting in the cafeteria with a crummy school-lunch taco in one hand, the Cliff’s Notes for Hamlet in the other. It was shortly after she’d returned from a stint in juvey.

  He’d set his tray down across from her, then wished he’d rehearsed what he would say beforehand. Normally he wasn’t tongue-tied around girls. But Robyn, who seemed more adult and worldly to him than the other girls, had him flummoxed.

  “You need any help with the Bard?” he’d asked.

  She’d looked up at him, puzzled and not very friendly. “The what?”

  “Shakespeare. The Bard.”

  “Oh. No, thanks, got it covered.”

  “I did Hamlet last year.” Ford had taken all advanced placement classes, so he was ahead of Robyn, even though they were both seniors. “I’d be happy to help you study for the test.”

  She’d set her book down and stared at him. “Are you coming on to me?”

  “I’m offering to help you study.” And, yes, maybe secretly he’d been hoping something would happen. But he hadn’t admitted that at the time, not even to himself.

  She shook her head. “You have got to be kidding.” She picked up her books and strolled away without a backward glance, leaving her half-finished taco behind.

  Ford had mentally kicked himself for even trying with a girl like Robyn.

  It wasn’t long after that she’d been accused of stealing those art supplies and had come before the student government tribunal. She probably thought he’d voted her guilty to get back at her for rebuffing him. That hadn’t been the case; he’d honestly thought her guilty and still did. But he’d taken some small gram of satisfaction from seeing her punished. In fact, he’d been the one to devise her penalty.

  “Is that them?” Raleigh asked, nodding toward the door.

  Ford waved to get their attention. “Yeah, that’s them.”

  Curvaceous Trina Jasperson looked slick in a lime-green sundress, the neckline plunging to reveal impressive cleavage. Her hair moved just so as she walked her bouncy walk, and she wore enough makeup to lend truth to her questionable past.

  Beside her, tall, long-legged Robyn wore a gauzy, paisley shirt and faded jeans with a big smudge on the thigh. Her hair was pulled back in a careless ponytail. No kitten heels tonight. She wore flat, leather sandals. And still, she made his mouth grow dry. There was something about her…she reminded him of a mustang filly, alert and high-spirited, loath to trust anyone.

  He bet she’d hated coming to him for help. But she’d done it, to save the life of a man who’d cheated on her and betrayed her. That took guts, and he admired her for that.

  The two women joined Ford and Raleigh at the table. By the time introductions were made, the waitress came by. “Can I get you ladies something to drink?”

  “Bud Light,” Trina said without hesitation.

  “Iced tea, please.” Robyn’s polite smile faded the moment the waitress disappeared. She looked straight at Ford as if no one else were at the table. “Please don’t leave us in suspense. Are you taking the case?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I guess I should have told you that over the phone.”

  “Like, yeah,” Trina said, grinning suddenly. “I was so nervous on the way over here I chewed the polish off my nails.”

  Rather than berate him, Robyn just looked relieved. “Tell us what our next step is.”

  Raleigh was prepared for that question. She pulled her briefcase onto the table and extracted a thick sheaf of papers Robyn and Trina would have to sign, basically naming Raleigh as the attorney of record for Eldon and holding Project Justice and its agents harmless, whatever the outcome of their effort to free Eldon Jasperson.

  Trina peered suspiciously at her stack of papers. “This isn’t gonna cost me anything, is it? I mean, like, y’all do this for free, don’t you? Like a public service?”

  Robyn visibly tensed while Raleigh, used to such questions, quietly explained to Trina the foundation would handle all reasonable expenses.

  She worried at her lower lip. “My lawyer has told me not to sign anything without his okay.”

  “Jeez Louise, Trina, just sign the damn things,” Robyn said. “We don’t have time for more lawyers.”

  Trina looked chagrined. “You’re right, of course. Do you have a pen?”

  Ford fought the urge to reach over and touch Robyn’s arm, to soothe her jangled nerves. They were all going to be pulling their hair out by the end of this thing. No use going into it frazzled. But he didn’t dare touch her, not when he was so blatantly aware of her sexuality. He recalled her cold rebuff from high school and decided she might not welcome any friendly overtures from him, no matter how well-meant. She’d hired him to perform a service, nothing more, and he would do well to remember that.

  With the legalities out of the way, Raleigh took off. She had a court appearance the following day, and her role on this case was strictly advisory. He would bother her only when he had legal questions or requirements—or enough evidence to move forward.

  “She scares me.” Trina took a long draw from her beer, which the waitress had just delivered. “I’m glad she’s on our side. She should do something with her hair.”

  Robyn again tensed, her hands gripping her glass until her knuckles turned white.

  “Raleigh is what I call coldly efficient,” Ford said, attempting to ease the tension. “We’re lucky she agreed to squeeze us into her schedule today. Are you ladies hungry? I can order up some food.”

  “I don’t eat fish,” Trina said. “They got something else here? Hamburger steak, maybe?”

  “They have all kinds of things. I’ll get you a menu. Robyn?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “We’ll be working a lot of long, stressful hours,” Ford said. “I want you both to eat well and stay hydrated.”

  “You make it sound like we’re running a marathon,” Robyn said.

  “We are, in a way. Given the deadline.”

  At this grim reminder, Robyn sobered and Trina’s eyes filled with tears. “Try not to remind me, okay? I just get so upset every time I think about it.” The waitress brought menus, but Trina waved hers away. “I can’t eat, either.”

  With a sigh, Ford ordered himself an overpriced, rare tuna steak and a side of pasta. He tended to eat a lot when he was in the thick of a case.

  Once the waitress left, Ford cleared his throa
t. “All right then, let’s start at the beginning.”

  “What do you mean?” Trina asked.

  “We can start with the weekend of the murder.”

  “Kidnapping,” Robyn said in a firm voice. “Although realistically I know my son must be…gone, we shouldn’t assume anything. All we know for sure is that he disappeared.”

  “Point taken. Eldon had visitation with your son that weekend?” Ford asked. He knew the answers to most of the questions he would ask, but he wanted to hear them from the source.

  “Yes. He kept Justin every other weekend, and sometimes during the week, too. He seemed to enjoy the time he spent with Justin, never complained or tried to weasel out of it.”

  “He really did,” Trina agreed. “That kid was everything to him.”

  “And was there anything unusual about this weekend? Any confusion or resentment, any arguments?”

  “If you’ve read the trial transcript, you know that Eldon and I had an argument. But it wasn’t a big deal like the prosecutors made it. His mother was trying to tell me how to raise my child, and Eldon thought his mother could do no wrong.”

  “You can say that again,” Trina put in. “She’s a control freak.”

  “It was just the usual stuff all divorced couples argue about. Not a big deal.”

  “So Eldon picked up Justin after work, took him to his house, and…where were you, Trina?”

  “At a professional development conference. I was working to get my massage therapy license at the time.”

  “And this conference was…where?”

  “Corpus Christi, at the Sheraton Hotel. I tried not to hang around too much when Eldon had Justin, so they could do their father-son thing without the evil stepmother getting in the way.”

  “The police verified your alibi?”

  Trina nodded. “Oh, yes. A bunch of us from the salon where I used to work went to the conference together.”

  “Okay. So Eldon maintains that he was home, alone, with Justin on that Friday night. But for some reason he went out for pizza at midnight.” Ford consulted his notes. “A large half pepperoni, half black olive pizza.”

  “Black olive?” Trina snorted. “Who told you that? Eldon hates black olives. I’m the one who likes olives.”

  “I got it straight from the police report,” Ford said. That was when he realized Robyn was giving him urgent, covert hand signals to shut up—and he recalled that Trina knew nothing of the mystery woman Eldon had supposedly entertained that night.

  Well, here was the evidence, pretty obvious even to someone who didn’t know Eldon hated black olives. Most people don’t order a half-and-half pizza for one person.

  “That just goes to show you how incompetent the Green Prairie Police are,” Trina said, all but spitting. “I mean, if they can’t get a little thing like that right—” She stopped, thinking it through. Her eyes widened, and she set her beer bottle down with a clunk.

  Ford looked at Robyn, not quite sure what she wanted him to say. Personally, he thought they should put all their cards on the table and work as a team. But he didn’t want to be the one to spill it to Trina that her husband had cheated on her.

  “He…might not have been alone,” Robyn said gently.

  “That’s ridiculous!” Trina had turned pale under her tan. She scraped her chair back and stood abruptly, bumping the table and nearly upsetting their drinks. Several other patrons looked over to see what the commotion was about. “Eldon was not unfaithful! My husband loves me. He’s always loved me. How could you say things like that about him when he’s not here to defend himself? Hasn’t he been bad-mouthed enough?”

  “Trina…” Robyn tried, but Trina had turned and was already marching out the door, head held high, heels clacking noisily on the wood floor.

  “Well, that went smoothly,” Ford said, letting out a gusty breath.

  “I told you Trina didn’t know about the mystery woman,” Robyn said.

  “She would have found out sooner or later,” Ford said.

  “I didn’t want to tell her unless we actually found the woman. Trina’s been through so much—I didn’t want her to suffer more.”

  “You’ve been through worse.”

  Robyn looked down, her lashes casting long shadows on her cheeks. “I won’t argue that. But I’ve dealt with my grief. Trina’s husband is on death row, and I can’t imagine what horrible images haunt her at night when she’s trying to sleep. I know she’s kind of melodramatic, but she must be pretty torn up.”

  “Tell me more about her. Did she bear any animosity toward Justin?”

  “Trina? No, I don’t think so. I didn’t have a lot of contact with her until Eldon was arrested, but Eldon never mentioned any problem.”

  “Her alibi was solid? Corpus Christi isn’t that far away.”

  “She had witnesses who say she was drinking in the bar until late, then she and her roommate went up to bed. She didn’t leave the room until morning.”

  “That sounds pretty solid,” Ford concluded. “What about your alibi?” He tossed the question out casually. He knew from reading the reports—and from chatting up Bryan Pizak, a Green Prairie cop he’d grown up with—that Robin had been considered a suspect.

  Robyn shrugged. “I don’t have one. I was at home, alone, sleeping like a baby while some animal preyed upon my child.” She swallowed, and her eyes glinted cold and hard.

  Ford steeled himself not to react to her emotionally. If there was one thing he’d learned in law enforcement, it was that emotions played no part. Emotions led you to form opinions, and opinions led to bias and tunnel vision. His goal was always to remain open-minded, unbiased, uninvolved. If that made him come off as cold and unfeeling, too bad.

  She took a gulp of her tea. “The cops questioned me at length, of course.”

  “When something happens to a child, the parents are always the first suspects.”

  “Yes, they explained that. I guess I must have convinced them I had nothing to do with it, because after a few days they stopped badgering me.”

  “You think they focused in on Eldon pretty quickly?”

  “Yes. Too quickly. They just didn’t like his story, didn’t like the way he was acting.”

  Ford couldn’t help it. He flashed back to another time, early in his career, when he’d been called out to his first gang-related homicide. He’d been so eager to perform well, and he’d gone the extra mile, searching behind garages and around back porches in that seedy neighborhood, and he’d found a kid cowering in the bushes. Seventeen, wearing his colors, terrified.

  Ford had made up his mind right there. He’d found the murderer. It was amazingly easy to do.

  “People act all different ways when they become victims of crime,” Ford said. “Some fall apart, some seem perfectly composed but they don’t make sense, and some detach themselves from the crime completely and they come off as cold and uncaring.”

  “That was Eldon. He was not one to show his messy emotions in public. They said he was cold.”

  “It’s enough to bias the investigating cops against him.” Ford made a note to find those first cops on the scene and give them a good grilling. “Now then, what about this witness you mentioned?”

  “He was an employee at the pizza place. Recently I talked with Mindy Hodges, who was night manager at the time. I’ve been tracking down witnesses one by one and speaking personally to them. She went over everything she could remember, and she mentioned an employee I never heard of—Roy. She doesn’t remember his last name. She says he was there. He spoke to the cops, yet I never heard his name before now.”

  Ford made a note. Finding that witness would be first on his priority list.

  They talked a long time. Hours. Ford persuaded Robyn to share his dinner, since there was plenty. By the time they were done, Ford had extracted every small memory Robyn had of the crime and the aftermath. He’d spent more time, focused exclusively on her, than he would have on a date. She’d been cautious at first, wary of
saying something wrong. But gradually, as the hours passed, he wore down her caution and resistance until she quit censoring herself.

  The challenging edge in her blue eyes softened.

  Something else happened, though it was hardly unexpected. Ford found himself wanting her with the same intensity he’d felt in high school.

  “Do you still smoke?” he asked abruptly, half hoping she would say yes. Nothing turned him off more than the smell of cigarettes on a woman.

  “What?” She laughed. “Where did that come from?”

  “I don’t know. I just remembered that you smoked in high school. Down by the Art Building.”

  “How would you know what went on at the Art Building? You and your jock friends probably never set foot in there. Too afraid someone would think you were gay.”

  True enough. He wouldn’t have been caught dead taking an art class. He’d taken music appreciation to satisfy his arts credits, and that was bad enough.

  Ford shrugged. “I spied on you.”

  “You mean, you were like a student narc?” she said, her distaste evident.

  He shook his head. “No, that wasn’t it at all. I just liked to watch you.” He couldn’t believe he was telling her this. But the woman had just told him about her and Eldon’s sexual habits, and he’d shared nothing with her. Not that working this case had anything to do with mutual sharing. But he appreciated her frankness, and wanted to keep the honest line of communication open. A little confession on his part was good for his soul.

  “You were a Peeping Tom.”

  “I didn’t say I spied on you in the girls’ locker room.” So much for confession. Maybe it was better if he abandoned this line of conversation. He could interrogate the hardest of criminals, but when it came to sharing his own feelings, he was a washout. Kathy, his ex-wife, had pointed that out to him with annoying frequency. When she wasn’t badgering him to seek another promotion.

  “I quit smoking when I got engaged to Eldon. He tried to make me over into someone worthy to be a Jas person.”

  “How’d that work for him?”

  “Not well enough, in his mother’s opinion. She thought a degree in art was useless, a career as a teacher was common. And working with disadvantaged kids? Repulsive. ‘God knows what sort of parasites and germs you bring home from work.’”