Jordan felt the first stirrings of excitement. “Any idea where she really was?”
“Not yet, but I’m working on it.”
She turned to Jase. “You should’ve let me keep pushing her last night—I might’ve gotten the truth out of her.”
“More likely, you would’ve gotten your eyes scratched out,” Jase countered.
“I missed a fight?” JT’s voice approximated a whine. “Buddy, you gotta keep me better informed.”
Jase looked amused. “What about the other names we gave you?”
“Let’s see … Marcy Brentworth and Alice Langston check out. I pulled the court records for more names, but all the other plaintiffs who sued the dead hubby have rock-solid alibis—I couldn’t shake them. Drake’s a piece of work, though. Got divorced a couple of years back, and the ex took him to the cleaners.”
“So the case is dredging up some emotional baggage,” Jase concluded.
“Yeah, but that’s not all. I ran across a picture of Drake’s ex and just for kicks put it side by side with a current photo of Jordan from the L.A. Times. The resemblance is striking—build, hair, even eye color. And his ex won the settlement against him by claiming he cheated on her. The guy’s doing some major transference onto Jordan right about now.”
Jordan groaned. “So Drake was hoping to find the evidence he needs to believe I offed Ryland, and now someone has obligingly supplied it.”
“Yeah. Or maybe he just needs to get back at a woman for what happened to him and wants to make you miserable, who knows? But I can guarantee he isn’t working from an objective viewpoint.”
“We can use that at trial, if necessary,” Jase said. “Good work.”
“What about the supposed witnesses?” Jordan asked. “Drake claimed he has reliable witnesses to our argument the night of Ryland’s death.”
“Still working on names,” JT replied. “The LAPD is so paranoid about the high-profile nature of this case, they’ve got the documents locked down tight.”
“Can you get to them?” Jase asked.
“Do you even need to ask?” JT replied, his tone smug.
Jase looked amused. “Killing two birds with one stone, are you?”
“Hey, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. Give me another hour, and I’ll shoot you an email.”
Jase’s eyebrow went up. “We interrupt something?”
“Please. Do you think I would’ve answered the phone? And I don’t do quickies—I savor.”
“Sure you do.”
“I appreciate the personal sacrifice, JT,” Jordan said, smiling.
They heard papers being shifted again. “The only other issue is your friend Carol. Per Jase’s instructions, I took a quick look at any possible connection she might have with your hubby, and something interesting turned up.”
Jordan glared at Jase. “You had him investigate my best friend?”
Jase held up a hand. “I was simply covering all bases. Let’s hear what JT has to say.”
JT cleared his throat. “About a year ago, your hubby and your best friend attended the same business conference.”
“I remember it—in San Francisco, right?” Jordan asked. “That’s hardly suspicious. We all run therapy practices, and Carol’s discipline is similar to Ryland’s.”
“I would agree, except for one thing,” JT said. “There was no hotel room registered in your friend’s name. I checked around with a few of her colleagues, and their recollection is that she stayed with a man—your husband, to be precise.”
Jordan felt a chill along her spine. “I don’t believe you.”
“I’ve got two witnesses who will swear to it.” JT’s voice had turned gentle.
“Then there has to be an innocent explanation. Carol would never have had a relationship with Ryland. I know her—she wouldn’t have betrayed me that way.”
“It gives her motive,” Jase said quietly. “And she knew he wanted to reconcile. You told me yourself that you confided in her.”
And Carol had talked to Drake, though she’d sworn she hadn’t told him anything. Jordan swallowed around a huge lump in her throat.
“You don’t know Carol,” she insisted. “She’s even less capable of recognizing brake lines than I am. This is crazy.”
“Think back to that night,” Jase urged. “After you called her, how long did it take her to arrive? Did she show up at the condo more quickly than you expected? Could she have been somewhere in the area?”
“Hell, I don’t know,” Jordan said, exasperated. “I wasn’t paying attention to those sorts of details. Ryland had just been killed.” She hunched her shoulders and leaned forward. “I want you to drop this, JT. I will talk to Carol myself and ask her about the conference. There’s an innocent explanation,” she insisted stubbornly. “I’m certain of it.”
“You’re the boss, darlin’.”
She drew a deep breath. “Thanks.”
“You’ll get my bill.”
Jase punched the disconnect button. The silence stretched out between them.
“So Didi is the most viable suspect,” Jordan concluded out loud.
“JT may still come up with interesting names for those witnesses.”
They were both leaving unspoken the information about Carol, and Jordan preferred it that way. Even asking about the shared hotel room would put a strain on their friendship, and Jordan couldn’t do that. Carol had always been there for her. If—and only if—Didi came up with a verifiable alibi would Jordan then call Carol.
Jordan stood to stretch out the kinks. If she didn’t get some coffee in her, her sleepless night would soon have her flat on her face. “I need to track down Didi and have a little talk with her.”
Jase shook his head. “Not alone, you aren’t. If she’s killed once, she won’t hesitate to do so again.” He glanced at his watch. “Why don’t we get cleaned up, then I’ll pick you up and we’ll grab brunch on the way out to Ted’s house.”
“Sounds like a plan, as long as you add caffeine to the brunch portion of the agenda.”
Jase glanced at his watch. “I’ve got some emails and a supplier I have to deal with. How does two hours from now sound?”
* * *
ONCE back at the house, Jordan took a long shower, slowly graduating the water temperature from hot to cold in the hope that it would wake her up. With a towel wrapped around her wet hair, she looked through the last of Seavey’s papers. She was convinced she’d find the clue she needed to nail Hattie’s murderer.
Locating an entry from the night of the soirée, she began to read while she towel-dried her hair.
June 6th—I find I’m barely able to put pen to paper this night, for I suffer from intense emotion unlike anything I’ve experienced in my lifetime. Though I was able to return Charlotte unharmed, my relationship with Hattie has been irreparably damaged. For I looked into her eyes this evening and saw the truth of her feelings. No matter what I have done—and she will never know the truth of it—she hates me with a deep and abiding passion. I find the pain of this knowledge almost unbearable.
Remy just now brought me word of Hattie’s murder. I will not rest until I find her killer. How ironic that I was incapable of understanding what I felt for her was love until it was too late. She would’ve told me it was no less than I deserve.
Jordan flipped through the pages, hunting for additional references to Hattie, but what she found instead was even more intriguing.
July 23rd—For the first time in my life, I have killed out of the need for personal vengeance. Once Remy had persuaded him to talk, he admitted to murdering Hattie in retribution. He’d laughed, thinking I wouldn’t care what he’d done. He sealed his fate in that moment. I had the pleasure of watching the man who took from me everything I hold dear die a slow, agonizing death. Perhaps now I can rest.