Marta Perry - Murder in Plain Sight

Chat? Well, she could talk to Trey, she supposed, but there was no guarantee that wouldn’t end in an argument. The men had already gone into the living room, so she followed them.

Trey and Leo were deep in conversation in one corner of the room, while Bobby Stephens stared absently out the French doors. Geneva had said that Bobby “found” her for the case. Maybe this was her opportunity to find out exactly how they’d hit upon using her.

At her approach, he gave her a tentative smile. “Just admiring Geneva’s garden.” He nodded at the flower beds beyond the French doors.

“Lovely,” she agreed. “I gather you’re good friends with the Morgan family.”

He gave an odd shrug that seemed to move only one shoulder. “You could say that. I work for them, of course, but I like to think our relationship goes deeper than that. If it hadn’t been for Trey, I doubt I’d have survived high school.”

“Really?” She suspected he wanted to tell her that story, or he wouldn’t have brought it up.

He nodded. “Back then I was small for my age and too smart for my own good. Born to be picked on, I guess.”

“Not by Trey?”

He looked shocked. “Of course not. He’s not that kind of person. He noticed, you see. No one else did, but Trey noticed. He put a stop to it. And we’ve been friends ever since.”

It was the sort of thing Trey would do, she supposed. His urge to take care of people extended beyond his mother. Jessica might find it annoying, but Bobby obviously hadn’t.

“You work for Morgan Enterprises, I understand?” She made it a question. She’d intended to find out a little more about the Morgan businesses but hadn’t been able to fit that into her day.

“Financial vice president,” he said, a trace of pride in his voice. “Trey is CEO, of course. It’s a private corporation, solely owned by the family.”

“Trey mentioned that you do a good bit of business in real estate.” Here was a chance to check up on that aspect of Trey’s story about the barn, at least.

Bobby nodded. “That was a big interest of Trey’s father. He was concerned that farmland would be gobbled up by careless developers, so he started buying up tracts years ago as they came on the market. Some have been sold to farmers, others held for future development. He wasn’t opposed to development, you see.” Bobby sounded very earnest. “He just wanted to be sure it was done in the right way.”

“Now it’s all up to Trey, I suppose.”

“Well, that’s what he intended to do all his life. He probably didn’t really need an MBA from Wharton to handle the company, but it was what he wanted. And what his father wanted for him, too.”

Bobby’s words gave her a few more pieces to the puzzle of who Trey Morgan was. But she didn’t want to give the impression she was pumping him about Trey. “I understand I have you to thank for hiring me for this case.”

He didn’t respond for a moment, and then he shook his head. “Not exactly. I mean, Geneva was insistent that I hire a Philadelphia firm. I was familiar with Henderson, Dawes and Henderson from some estate work they’d handled, so I called. I suppose they felt you were the best person for the job.”

“I see.” Everyone seemed to have a different version of this story. Still, Bobby was the one who’d made the call, so he should know. “Well, thank you anyway. I guess you’re still indirectly responsible.”

His smile was deprecating, as if to say he had done nothing. “How is the case shaping up, or shouldn’t I ask? I can’t help but be interested.”

He wasn’t shouting angrily at her, but his avid expression when he asked about the case repelled her as much as those people at the county jail. “I’m afraid I really can’t talk about it.”

“Well, no. I suppose not. I guess you’ll be looking for a plea bargain, under the circumstances.”

She pasted a smile on her face. “As I said, I can’t discuss it. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

She took a step back, turned and nearly walked into Trey.

JESSICA LOOKED, Trey decided, as if she needed to be rescued from Bobby, who tended to go on and on about the business until people’s eyes glazed over. He put out a hand to steady her when she wobbled a bit on those high heels she insisted on wearing. She didn’t need it, probably, but…

But what was he thinking? The last thing he should do was admit attraction to this woman.

He managed a noncommittal smile. “I hate to steal you away from Bobby, but I’d like a private word.”

“Sure, sure.” Bobby ran a hand over his hair, as if it needed taming. It didn’t. “I’ll just…” He let the sentence die out and backed away.

Jessica treated him to a frowning look. “That wasn’t very polite.”

“Bobby doesn’t mind.” He opened the French door that led out onto the patio. “Let’s take a closer look at the garden.”

She stared at him for a moment, and he thought she’d argue. Then, with a short nod, she stepped out onto the flagstones. He closed the door, and the cool evening enveloped them.

“My mother’s roses are at their best right now.” He ushered her a few more steps away from the door, intent on not being overheard.

“Beautiful.” She cupped a yellow bloom in her hand, bending to smell it. “What’s this one called?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea.”

“Well, then, suppose we stop pretending you brought me out here to admire the rose garden.” She straightened, her eyes challenging him. “What do you want?”

All right, no small talk. “Did you see the local newspaper today?”

“Not today.” She looked slightly confused, as if that wasn’t what she’d expected.

He handed her the paper he had clutched in one fist, shaking it out. “Take a look.” He didn’t want to see it again himself. He’d rather forget it, but he couldn’t.

Jessica held the paper up to catch the light that filtered out from the living room. “You and your mother with Thomas’s parents, arriving at the courthouse. I’d have expected them to use one of Thomas.”

Irritation filled him at Jessica’s cool reaction. “This is exactly what I was afraid of-something that ties my mother publicly to this business.”

Jessica tossed the paper onto the garden bench. “How, exactly, am I supposed to control what the newspaper prints?”

Common sense said she was right. It didn’t help his disposition. “You can’t. I just-”

“You just wanted to blame somebody, and I was handy.”

He gritted his teeth. “If you hadn’t taken the case, my mother wouldn’t be involved.”

“Do you really think that? Judging by the persistence I’ve seen in her, I doubt she’d let something like that stop her.” Her lips curved. “I couldn’t even turn her down for supper tonight.”

“Did you want to?” His annoyance was slipping away. Stupid to hang on to it, when he knew it made no rational sense.

“I was beat, to tell the truth.” She sat down on the bench, as if to illustrate the point. “But tonight’s dinner was far better than anything I’d have gotten in the coffee shop at the Willow Brook Motel.”

“I told you so.” He sat down next to her. “But I know what you mean about my mother. When she’s set her heart on something, she’s relentless. Like water on stone.”

“That’s not a bad quality.” She gestured toward the newspaper. “I don’t know much about small country places, but I can’t imagine anyone being angry with your mother for supporting those poor parents.”

“I couldn’t imagine anyone slashing your tires, either, but it happened.”

“Yes.” She glanced over her shoulder at the lengthening shadows on the lawn and shivered a little. “It seems out of place here, but I guess that kind of irrational violence can happen anywhere.”