Marta Perry - Murder in Plain Sight

Trey grasped her arm, the warmth and strength of his hand penetrating the sleeve of her jacket. “Wait. Let me take a look.”

She shook herself free, bending to read what was scrawled on the paper. Go back where you belong. The words were followed by an ugly obscenity.

She started to reach for it, but Trey caught her hand, holding it as firmly as he’d gripped her arm. A wave of warmth went through her. She wanted to lean on him, to rely on him. But she couldn’t, because he might be the very person responsible for this.

THE POLICE HAD COME, had taken statements and photographs, and gone again. Trey leaned against his truck, watching Jessica, who in turn watched the garage mechanic now circling her car, shaking his head and clucking softly.

Jessica had surprised him a little by her seeming reluctance to call the police at their discovery. He’d done it for her, and she hadn’t liked that, either. Face it, she wasn’t going to like anything he did.

He pushed himself away from the truck, feeling a little reluctance of his own. This situation was spinning rapidly out of control. Despite the ugly crowd at the jail, he hadn’t expected outright vandalism, and the sight of that knife sticking out of the tire had twisted his stomach.

Jessica had turned to him in her shock and distress-for about half a second. Then she’d pulled away, determined to stand on her own. An admirable quality, he supposed, but in this case…well, he wasn’t sure what he thought.

The destructive act had sickened him, but looking at it in a hardheaded way, it could get him what he wanted. It could make Jessica think twice about this case.

He approached, noticing the way her shoulders stiffened as he neared. “I’ll drive you to the jail. You’ll be late if you wait until they get the tires on.”

She gave him a wary look that seemed to put him at a distance. “It might be better if I stayed with my car. Apparently it’s not safe in your municipal lot.”

“Not ‘my’ lot,” he said mildly. “Hey, Tom.” He raised his voice. “How long is this going to take?”

Tom, owner of Tom’s Garage, shoved his ball cap back and scratched his head. “I got Tom Junior bringing the tires over now. Shouldn’t be more’n an hour, I’d say.” His round, mild face puckered into a frown. “Nasty business. Gives the town a bad name, somethin’ like that.”

“It does,” he agreed. That was the attitude he hoped for from folks around here. “I need to take Ms. Langdon over to the jail on King Street for a meeting. You mind dropping the car over there when you’re done?”

“Sure thing, Trey. No problem at all.” He settled his cap firmly on his head and nodded toward Jessica. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t you worry. I’ll bring the keys in and leave ’em at the desk, okay?”

“Good.” He clapped Tom’s shoulder. “Thanks, Tom. You tell Tommy I said hi, too.”

“Will do.”

Trey raised an eyebrow at Jessica. “That all right with you?”

“I suppose so.” The words came out grudgingly. “I can get a cab…”

“My truck’s right here.” He took her arm. “By the time you wait for a cab, you’ll be even later.”

She pushed back her sleeve to glance at the gold bracelet watch that circled her wrist. Nice. And expensive. A gift, maybe, from a boyfriend or fiancé? She didn’t wear a ring, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t involved with someone.

“All right. Thanks.”

He opened the door for her. She climbed in, smoothing her skirt down over her knees. The skirt didn’t quite make it.

Removing his gaze with an effort, he rounded the truck, got in and started the engine. He shouldn’t be looking at her legs, much as they were worth a second glance. And he shouldn’t be wondering whether she had a man in her life. The only thing that should interest him at the moment was whether this unpleasantness might make her back off from the case.

They drove for a block in silence. “I’m sorry that happened,” he said finally. “I knew feelings were running high, but I never expected open vandalism. I hope it didn’t upset you too much.”

“Is that really what you feel? Or were you thinking that this might be what it took to drive me off?” Her tone was sharp, and he could hardly blame her. Jessica seemed to have an uncanny ability to read his mind.

He took a deep breath and sought for a rational answer. It wouldn’t come.

“I suppose you’re thinking that I might have done it myself to get rid of you,” he said.

A glance at her face told him she’d been thinking exactly that. He clamped his lips shut on the angry words that wanted to pour out. He wasn’t sure whether he was angrier at her for thinking that of him or at himself for caring.

He took a deep breath and held it for a count of five. Ten would probably have been better.

“I’m not going to keep protesting my innocence to you. But you ought to see that this is the very thing I’m trying to protect my mother against. I’m not pleased it happened to you, but-” He stopped. That sentence wasn’t going anywhere good.

“But you’d rather it was me than your mother,” she finished for him. “All right, I get that.” She slanted a sideways glance at him. “And I’m willing to concede that you don’t seem the sort of person to stick knives into people’s tires.”

“Thank you,” he said stiffly.

She shook her head. “I just don’t understand why anyone wants to take their anger at the crime out on me. Surely they realize that Thomas has to have a defense attorney. If not me, it will be someone else.”

“I’m not sure the person who slashed your tires is capable of logical thought. Besides, you’re a Philadelphia lawyer.”

She looked at him blankly. “So?”

“You don’t know the expression?” He couldn’t help smiling. “I hate to be the one to break it to you, Counselor, but out in country places, the term is used as a not-very-complimentary comparison. As in, ‘He’s as slick as a Philadelphia lawyer.’”

“Charming,” she said. “No, I didn’t know that. But our vandal might as well get one thing clear.” She turned toward him as he pulled up in front of the jail. “I’m not quitting this case. Not if I have to put new tires on my car every day of the week.”

“That could get expensive,” he said mildly, but he wasn’t deceived. Jessica didn’t just mean that for the vandal, whoever he might be. She meant it for him, as well.

He should be annoyed. He was. But he was also experiencing a certain sneaking admiration for Jessica Langdon. She might be a thorn in his side at the moment, but he had to admit that she had guts.

TRUE TO HIS WORD, Leo Frost was waiting for Jessica at the jail. She walked toward the spare, slightly stooping figure, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. Thomas must be persuaded to talk to her. To give her something upon which she could build a case.

That was the important thing, not the vandalism to her car. And certainly not whatever random feelings and questioning doubts Trey had managed to raise.

“Mr. Frost.” She gripped his hand briefly. “Thanks again for coming.”

“No problem at all.” He nodded toward the desk. “I asked the officer to have Thomas brought down. We may as well go on into the interview room.”

Maybe he needed to sit down. Compunction hit her as she fell into step with him. “Have you been waiting long? I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Not at all.” He held the door for her and then sank into one of the straight chairs with a sigh. Someone had brought an extra chair in, she noted, showing more consideration for Frost’s health than she had, it seemed.

“Mr. Frost, I do apologize…”

“It doesn’t matter in the least. And call me Leo, please. I can hang on to an illusion of youth as long as a pretty woman calls me by my first name.”