“No. I don’t know.” He stopped, wincing. “I don’t know what I feel. I thought I’d never see her again. I never had the chance to say good-bye to her. Everything ended and I had all these unresolved feelings. Can you understand that?”
And the problem was, A.J. could. She could totally identify with those feelings. In fact the only hard part was picturing Jake having them. He always seemed so tough, so in control.
He said suddenly, urgently, “The thing is, I have feelings for you, too, A.J. I care for you. A lot. More than I thought I was ever going to care for anyone again.”
If he told her they would always be friends, she was probably going to bean him with the saltshaker. But he didn’t say it. He didn’t say anything else. He just stared at her in that grim, pained way, waiting.
Waiting for what? Waiting for A.J. to say something? Waiting for her to break it off?
“Where does this leave us?”
“I don’t know. I just know that I had to tell you. That I couldn’t leave you wondering what the hell was going on with me.”
She nodded absently. “Are you… seeing her?”
“Yes. I’m seeing her. I’m not dating her. I don’t know what I’m doing, frankly. We’re just talking.”
Reliving old times? Trying to figure out if there was enough there for a future? Aware of Jake’s gaze, A.J. said slowly, “I’m not sure what to say.”
They stared at each other across the gulf that had unexpectedly appeared between them.
How simple it would be if A.J. could just give Jake an ultimatum. You’d better make your mind up quick, buster! Or if she could hate him for being confused and torn now. But neither of those was a realistic option. She cared too much for him to risk throwing down an ultimatum. For both their sakes-for all their sakes-he needed to make the right decision now. And, yes, while way down deep inside she was hurt and a little angry that Jake couldn’t see that she was the best thing that had ever happened to him, apparently she had learned enough during the last year or so to recognize how unfair and unrealistic that attitude was.
In fact it was impossible not to be sympathetic to the pain he must have felt when Jenny-Chess-had disappeared. It was also impossible not to feel anger at the other woman. No matter what the circumstances, to have left Jake without a word was beyond cruel. And if Chess hadn’t known him well enough to trust him with her life, she hadn’t any business getting engaged to him in the first place.
So A.J. swallowed her pride and ego and fear. She said with calmness she was a million miles from feeling, “Thank you. For being honest, I mean. I care too much about you-and about us-to try and push you. For a decision. I know you’ll tell me once you know, once you’ve worked out, what you’re feeling.”
He reached across the table, offering his hand. A.J. rested her hand in his palm, and to her astonishment, he raised their joined hands and kissed her fingers. It was the last gesture A.J. expected, but she found it incredibly moving-maybe because it was so obviously sincere.
She laughed shakily. Jake released her and they both reached hastily for their coffee cups.
Sixteen
The next morning, Tuesday, A.J. and Elysia drove back to Stillbrook to see Bradley Meagher at his home office. Mr. Meagher greeted them cordially enough although he seemed just a little stiff with Elysia.
He led the way down a short hallway to his office in the basement of the gracious old Victorian house. It was a comfortably cluttered room with a collection of mismatched and battered furniture. Framed law degrees and honorary diplomas adorned the walls. The remnants of a TV dinner sat on the table next to a long leather couch. A white cockatoo in an enormous old-fashioned birdcage scooted along his perch and harshly called out, “You da bomb!”
Mr. Meagher threw the bird a beleaguered glance and stepped behind his large, cluttered desk. Something about that move and the funny, half-awkward look Mr. Meagher threw Elysia as he sat down put A.J. in mind of someone retreating behind the safety of a barrier.
“Well now,” Mr. Meagher said briskly, staring down at the file on his desk. He began to bring them up to date on the progress in the DA’s attempt to build the case against Elysia.
Yes, A.J. was now convinced that Mr. Meagher was uncomfortable with Elysia and wishing to keep both physical and emotional distance between them. A glance at her mother’s face confirmed her suspicion. Elysia was watching Mr. Meagher with a perplexed expression. Perplexed and perhaps a little hurt.
“The forensics report confirms that the gun used in Maddie Sutherland’s murder was almost certainly the same as that used in young Massri’s.”
A.J. remembered that Mr. Meagher must have, given the recollections of her mother and Maddie during their dinner together, known Maddie as well. He seemed businesslike and unmoved by her death. But perhaps they had not cared much for each other? Or perhaps he hid his feelings well?
“Have they found the gun?” A.J. asked.
“No, that they haven’t.”
Elysia drawled, “I’m surprised Herr Bormann-”
“That’ll be enough of that, me girl,” Mr. Meagher broke in sharply, his face flushing. “One reason you’re out on bail now is Jake Oberlin spoke up for you. The DA and nearly everyone else involved in the prosecution of this case thought you too great a flight risk.”
There was a hint of color in Elysia’s ivory face, too. She lifted a slim, dismissing shoulder, but said grudgingly, “If that’s true, I suppose I owe him thanks.”
“If it’s true?” Mr. Meagher repeated. “Tis not meself who plays games with the truth!”
Elysia’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Mr. Meagher appeared to struggle with himself.
“Hey, dude!” cried the cockatoo. “Let’s party!”
Mr. Meagher muttered a curse and rose to throw a faded blanket over the cage.
For the first time, A.J. forced herself to objectively consider whether Mr. Meagher might have had a motive to kill Dakarai. She dismissed the idea quickly, remembering Mr. Meagher’s obvious shock at discovering that Elysia had been having an affair. Of course, he could have been acting; A.J. had seen plenty of TV movies where just such scenarios played out, in which case Mr. Meagher might have framed Elysia in the hope of driving her to turn to him for help.
Still. Mr. Meagher? That was pretty hard to believe-and not just because A.J. was very fond of the old rascal.
She observed him surreptitiously as he returned to his desk, and decided the idea was simply too far-fetched. Mr. Meagher probably did nurse unrequited feelings for Elysia, but that was still a long way removed from knocking off her gigolo lover. For one thing, Mr. Meagher was far too practical. He’d be bound to see that getting rid of Massri wouldn’t help his own situation, nor was Elysia likely to change her feelings for him this late in the game simply out of gratitude.
Actually, now that she thought of it, A.J. wasn’t exactly sure what her mother’s feelings for Bradley Meagher were. She was clearly fond of him, considered him a friend… but observing the uncertain way Elysia was studying her old friend, A.J. wondered if Elysia herself had ever worked out exactly what she felt for Mr. Meagher.
“Mr. Meagher, what’s our next move?” A.J. asked. “Surely the fact that the police haven’t found the murder weapon works in our favor?”
“That it does. The problem remains that there is no other viable suspect.”
“But all that means is the police haven’t found him-or her-yet. Have you been able to get any further with the SCA?”
“Not so far,” Mr. Meagher said grimly. “I’m planning to make a regular nuisance of meself until someone in that bloody country and organization will talk to me.”
“I think it is a valid lead. Even Jake told me that the police have finally begun to explore the angle that Massri might have been involved in illegal activities regarding antiquities. There must be something there or they wouldn’t be bothering to dig any further when they’ve already charged Mother.”