Taken to the Edge (15 page)

Funny, lying didn’t used to bother him.

“Let me check his schedule. Can I tell him what this is in regards to?”

“It’s an extremely private matter.”

“I understand. Just a moment.”

While Ford waited, he went over the progress on the Jasperson case spread out over his desk.

Two more days had ticked away, with little progress. Receipts arrived from various wig shops, the fruits of Robyn’s and Trina’s labor. Ford gave these to a Project Justice data analyst, who compiled lists of names and current contact information and compared them with people police mentioned in the original police reports on the kidnapping.

So far nothing had panned out.

Ford had also been checking out the background of Heather’s husband. The Reverend Bradley Brinks was as squeaky-clean as they came. The man had led such an exemplary life, it was hard to believe. He paid his bills and his taxes on time, he had no history of drinking or drug use, no ethical complaints filed against him, not even a parking ticket. His congregation loved him; his neighbors loved him. His entire family—parents, siblings—appeared to be scandal free, too.

The reverend’s only questionable decision was to marry a girl who lied about her past, but even that was turning out okay so far. Everyone said she was a good wife and mother, a tireless volunteer, kind and generous.

Though Ford had no way to pressure the man, he had to try.

The secretary came back on the line. “The reverend can see you at two this afternoon.”

“Thank you. I’ll be there.”

Ford had assigned Robyn several jobs that would keep her busy. First, she was to convince Roy White to come to Houston, then make all of his travel arrangements. Then she would help the analyst working on the wig receipts.

Frankly, Celeste could have handled these chores. But he wanted Robyn safely busy at the office so he could pursue Reverend Brinks on his own. The interview was likely to get unpleasant, and he didn’t want Robyn to see that side of him again.

Then again, seeing him as he really was might serve as a good reminder for her. She’d welcomed sex with him because she had seen a softer side of him. He’d been protective and tender with her injuries, and she suddenly believed that’s who he was.

But his inner cop hadn’t gone away. He was still the same man who had appalled her by coming down hard on a pregnant witness and a defeated man on death row. He got the job done, but he could be a real bastard sometimes. That hadn’t changed.

Robyn viewed him—temporarily—as some kind of hero because he was one of the few people who believed in her cause and was willing to help her. But he wasn’t a hero, just a terribly fallible man who was about to become another in a long line of people who had disappointed her.

During his divorce, Kathy had claimed that she’d fallen in love with his potential, not with him. He refused to let the same thing happen with Robyn. She’d had enough heartbreak in her life.

The only thing he could do for her was press forward with the job she’d hired him to do. But he had little hope of success. Daniel’s instincts about these things could be depended on. Unless they uncovered something else, something startling and concrete, there would be no stay of execution for Eldon Jasperson.

A couple of hours later he arrived at the church early, and the secretary, who seemed ill at ease, showed him to the reverend’s office.

The moment Ford entered, he realized his ruse hadn’t worked. The minister was there, all right, but so was his wife. He stood behind his desk in the small, spartan office. Heather looked almost triumphant. Almost. Her unsteady gaze reflected a note of fear, too.

Ford wasn’t dead in the water yet. Maybe this could work to his advantage.

“Reverend Brinks. Thank you for seeing me.” Ford extended his hand to the minister. Good manners overcame his reticence, and Brinks accepted the handshake, though Ford could tell he didn’t want to.

Ford looked at his wife. “Mrs. Brinks. It’s nice to see you again.”

“I wish I could say the same. My husband knows the circumstances of our first meeting,” she said.

Ford could just imagine how that conversation went. What kind of spin had Heather put on the uncomfortable conversation they’d had in her rose-covered living room?

He went on the offensive. “And does your husband know that you are in a position to save a man’s life, and you refuse to do so?”

The reverend answered for her. “I find your insinuations regarding my wife not only insulting, but actionable,” he said succinctly. “You invaded our home—”

“She let me in.”

“You slandered her. I’ve already contacted my lawyer. If we ever see you or hear from you again, you can expect legal action. Now leave.”

“It’s only slander if I tell someone else. Anyway, lawyers don’t scare me. But you know what does?” He stopped there. He’d been about to tell the good reverend just how sordid his wife’s past really was. But what purpose would it serve?

In his mind’s eye he saw Robyn’s blue eyes. Honest eyes. Kind eyes. She would be horrified if he de-graded Heather in front of her husband. Whatever her past, she was trying to live a good life now.

She obviously had her reasons for not talking up for Eldon.

A disturbing thought occurred to Ford. What if Heather did know something—something that only confirmed Eldon’s guilt, rather than exonerating him? If that were the case, in her mind Eldon was exactly where he needed to be, and her involvement wouldn’t serve justice at all.

It would just tarnish her reputation, and she wouldn’t be the only one to suffer. She had a husband, children.

“What scares you, Mr. Hyatt?” the reverend asked. “Hell?”

“Not anymore. I’ve been there.” He stood up. “I’m sorry to have taken up your time. You won’t hear from me again.”

As he climbed into his car, he was satisfied with the decision he’d made. Disappointed, sure. But he knew, deep inside, that he’d made the right call not to trash that woman’s life out of spite and frustration.

He again thought of Robyn. He was hungry, and he could have stopped for a late lunch, but he didn’t. He was in a hurry to get home. To her.

Those feelings directly opposed the decisions he’d made only a few hours ago regarding their lack of a future.

She hadn’t pressed him about his afternoon plans, only saying she would wait for him there until he returned. It had been a time since he’d had a woman waiting for him. Even longer since he’d felt good about himself for any reason.

He didn’t believe he was capable of wholesale change. But Robyn had brought to the surface what ever good bits were left inside him. Not that he could take seriously any thoughts of a future with Robyn. But maybe, just maybe, he still had something to live for.

Many of those people’s names were familiar, but some she’d never heard of. She had no idea what their connections were; she had only the list, not the details of why they were included in the file.

It was after hours by the time Ford returned to the office from his mysterious mission. Most of the staff had left, but several people were still hard at work on their phones or at the computers. She imagined this place never really slept.

Her heart lifted at the sight of Ford. She told herself it was because she couldn’t wait to set aside this loathsome task. But that wasn’t it. She was glad to see him.

Her body responded more urgently than ever to him as he strode toward the desk where she was working. Now that she’d had a taste of him, she craved him like a drug.

It was a struggle not to reach out to touch him, a struggle to keep from breaking out in a silly grin. She had it bad for the man, and talk about inconvenient.

“Hi. Long day today, huh?” She kept her expression neutral, her body language guarded. But he was such a well-trained observer, he could probably see through her puny efforts to disguise her feelings.

Nothing she could do about that.

“Very long. Any progress?”

“Billy is going through the last batch of receipts now. I’ve been comparing names, but so far, no matches. Only one thing…” She debated about whether to mention it, then decided not to. A false lead would only waste valuable resources. She shook her head. “Nah, nothing.”

“What?” He pulled a chair next to her. “You were going to say something. Say it.”

“It’s silly.”

“Let me decide. Come on, spit it out.”

“Okay. I keep going back to that name, Bella Orizaba. You said you’d have someone check into it?”

“I did. She’s an older lady, lives in Galveston. Apparently she’s very ill with her third bout of cancer.”

Robyn sagged. “So she probably bought a wig after chemo. Another dead end.”

“I think we might have had an Orizaba at our school. Maria or Marissa, maybe. Few years younger. That could explain the sense of familiarity you had.”

Robyn tried to picture the student Ford referred to, but nothing came to mind. “That’s probably it,” she said.

“You don’t really think so.”

She hesitated. “I told you it was silly.”

“I’ll do some more checking.”

“No, really, Ford, I don’t want to waste anyone’s time. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s not a waste of time. You have a feeling. I am a firm believer in intuition, or gut hunches, or whatever you want to call them. I can give her name to Mitch Delacroix, our tech expert. If this woman has any ties to Green Prairie or Eldon, Mitch will dig them up.”

“It seems like such a long shot.”

“Everything about this case is a long shot. But it’s like a piece of fabric. You pull one thread, then another and another, until finally the whole thing unravels. You just never know which thread is going to do the trick.”

“Or if the fabric is some new miracle textile that can’t be unraveled.”

He shrugged. “There is that.”

Robyn began tidying up the desk she’d been using, throwing away her coffee cup and putting her scribbled notes into some kind of order—as if they’d be of any use to anyone.

“Have you had any success today?” She didn’t quiz him about where he’d been or what he’d been after. If he wanted her to know, he would tell her, and she knew sometimes his investigations involved privacy issues or sensitive information. Even though she was his client, she wasn’t meant to know everything, and she accepted that.

He didn’t answer right away, and just when Robyn began to think he wouldn’t respond at all, he sighed deeply. “No success with the case. I…I went to see Heather’s husband.”

Robyn felt herself tense. She’d made no objections when Daniel Logan had told Ford to lean on Reverend Brinks. Though she didn’t feel it would help to further bully Heather, Robyn had gone to Project Justice because they were experts at what they did—the best. She couldn’t presume to tell them how to do their job, so she’d tried not to think about it.

“Don’t worry, Robyn. If anyone left the meeting feeling a bit humbled, it was me. They were prepared for my arrival. She’s one tough cookie, your Heather.”

“I don’t doubt it, given her background. So, you got nothing?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“You seem almost pleased.”

“Not about Heather’s lack of cooperation. That still irks me. But something else…”

“What?”

“I can’t explain it. Not in any way that would make sense to you. But after leaving that unproductive meeting, I actually felt good about the way I handled it. And I have you to thank.”

He was right; she didn’t understand. “I wasn’t even in the same state.”

“You were in my mind the whole time,” he argued. “I thought about your compassion, and how you don’t judge. I’ve been a judgmental son of a bitch my whole life. Long before I ever sat on a stupid student tribunal who sat in judgment of a young girl and convicted her with absolutely no evidence. But today, for once, I didn’t judge. I just walked away, and it felt incredibly good.”

Robyn’s head was spinning. Ford had made some kind of breakthrough. And though she didn’t fully understand what he was talking about, she was happy for him. He certainly looked like a different man from the one she’d found in a seedy waterfront bar, drowning his sorrows.

“It might not be good,” he said thoughtfully, “if I want to keep working this job.”

“I thought you didn’t want to keep working this job,” she pointed out as she shouldered her massively heavy tote bag.

That stopped him. “I did quit, didn’t I?”

“So maybe you’ll rethink it.”

“Maybe.”

“You know, you shouldn’t base your decision on whether you win with Eldon…or lose. This case had a slim chance of success from the very beginning.”

Some of the light went out of him, and she could have kicked herself for dousing his sudden…exuberance.

“I’m glad you understand that. The odds stacked against us, I mean. But I don’t want to disappoint you. Too many people have.”

He didn’t realize it, but he’d already disappointed her. Not because of anything to do with his work; his diligence and keen intelligence had impressed her beyond anything she could have imagined.

No, she was disappointed on a more personal level. She’d been ready to admit that the man she’d despised all these years might be worth a second look, might even be worth forgiving…and loving. But he hadn’t really changed. The only difference was, he was on her side instead of against her.

She quickly moved on. “I almost forgot—Roy White will be on a plane tomorrow. He should arrive by noon. I’ve got a car scheduled to pick him up from the airport and take him to his hotel, then on to Dr. Ellison’s office.”

Ford smiled, accepting the change of subject. “Good work. I knew the VIP approach would work with him.”

“Yeah…he’s kind of an egotistical jerk.” She slapped her hand over her mouth. “Now who’s being judgmental?”

“It’s okay, I don’t particularly like him, either.”

“Could he be a suspect?”

“Possible, I suppose, though nothing about his demeanor suggested that. The cop who interviewed him left the Green Prairie force several years ago. I’m trying to track him down. If we could get him to admit someone ordered him to bury Roy White’s interview, it could be extremely helpful.”

“I take it no one on the police force so far is willing to admit that.”

“The cops won’t even talk to me. They say I’m wasting my time and they don’t want me to waste theirs. Even Bryan Pizak, my old football buddy, has gone quiet.”

“Jerks,” she muttered.

“Hungry?”

“Starving. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve been eating enough food for three people, and it doesn’t seem enough.”

“This work burns calories. How about Italian?”

Robyn hesitated. She wanted to avoid anything that smacked of “date” with Ford. On the other hand, her mouth watered at the thought of baked lasagna and garlic bread. If they relaxed for a short while, ate a hearty dinner, they could work for another few hours tonight.

Hunger won out. “Italian sounds great.”