Sandra Brown - Smoke Screen

“I know it’s the commonsense thing to do,” he said, interrupting. “It’s just that I hate putting Candy in a no-win situation. If she agrees to help, she’s jeopardizing her appointment. If she doesn’t help, she’s letting down a friend. She’s damned either way.”

“Unless she could help you without anyone knowing.”

He thought on that for a moment. “And unless I asked her for only one small favor.”

“What one small favor do you have in mind?”

“A phone call.”

“To?”

“Cobb Fordyce.” Seeing Britt’s surprise, he said, “I’d like to resume that one face-to-face meeting I had with him, the one where he dismissed my claim that I had been drugged.”

“Why didn’t he investigate that further? At least make a show of investigating it?”

“Damn good questions,” he said. “Fordyce didn’t do squat beyond going through the motions. He kept himself at arm’s length from the whole nasty business of Suzi Monroe. A safe arm’s length.”

“Odd behavior for a man who prides himself on being an advocate for victims of crime. He also courts the media.”

“My thoughts exactly. He detached himself from the Suzi Monroe case the same way Jay avoided having anything to do with my arson investigation.”

“Fordyce must have been involved.”

“You’ll get no argument from me on that point.”

Making a sudden decision, Raley turned sharply in to the parking lot of a convenience store and drove to the side of the building where a pay telephone was mounted on the exterior wall. It was out of sight of the busy storefront, where there were security cameras and a steady flow of customers going in and out.

“Since the advent of cell phones, are those things still in service?” Britt asked.

“Let’s hope BellSouth hasn’t got to this one yet.”

The lady with the mellifluous voice didn’t recognize his name and refused to put him through to Judge Mellors, not even when he identified himself as an old friend. “I’m sorry, Mr. Gannon. A crew from 60 Minutes is due here momentarily, and the judge is preparing-”

“Ask her if she’s found any unusual prizes in her Cracker Jacks lately.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Ask her that. She’ll talk to me.”

She released a long-suffering sigh, put him on hold, and the next voice he heard was Candy’s. “Eat shit and die, asshole.”

He laughed. “I figured that would get you to the phone.”

“I hadn’t thought about that for years. I could still sue you for sexual harassment, I’ll bet. What’s the statute of limitations on that?”

“You’re asking me? You’re the legal whiz kid.”

He and Jay had been seniors in high school, Candy a freshman. She’d developed a crush on one of their friends. They’d told her the guy loved Cracker Jacks, ate them all the time. If she wanted to win his heart, she would share a box of Cracker Jacks with him. Which she did, only to discover, to her mortification, that Raley and Jay had replaced the prize inside with a gold foil-wrapped condom.

“How did you manage that?” she asked. “Did you go through the bottom of the box?”

“I don’t give away my trade secrets.”

When their laughter subsided, she said, “Gosh, it’s good to hear your voice. I called George McGowan last night to ask about the funeral. He told me you were there. I wish I could have been, if only to see you. How are you, Raley?”

“I’m good.”

“Really?” she said, doubt in her tone. “I know you and Hallie broke it off for good after you left Charleston. I’m sorry about…well, how that turned out.”

He was certain she’d heard about their breakup through Jay, probably in the form of a boast. “It turned out okay for Hallie. She’s married with children.” After a beat, he said, “I was sorry to hear about your husband.”

“Was that the pits, or what? I finally got a guy to marry me, and then he goes and drowns.” Despite her joking, Raley could tell the loss had caused her pain. Speaking more seriously, she said, “He was a great guy. You would have liked him. I was devastated when it happened, but…” She paused and took a deep breath. “Life goes on.”

“It does.”

“Thank God for my work.”

“Oh, congratulations.”

“Congratulations are premature until after Friday’s vote, but thanks.”

The conversation ran out. Pleasantries were over. He could imagine her consulting her wristwatch, reading hand signals from her assistant alerting her to the arrival of the television crew.

“Raley, did you call to talk about Jay?”

“Easy guess.”

“I’m glad you did. You’ve got to come to terms with what happened between him and Hallie. George said you were still holding a grudge, and it’s futile to hold a grudge against a dead man. You can never be reconciled.”

He could think of no appropriate response, because she was right. Jay’s betrayal of their friendship was a lost cause. So was the issue of Hallie. He was past seeking vengeance for what had been done to him. After this played out, if he was vindicated for the Suzi Monroe incident, that would be a bonus, but exoneration was no longer his main goal.

What he sought now was justice for the casualties of that day.

Seven lives. Seven homicides. Seven people who shouldn’t have died. That sounded rather high-minded, so he hadn’t given it as his reason when Britt asked why he’d waved that red cape at George. But that was the truth of it. He wanted justice for those who couldn’t get it for themselves. Even Cleveland Jones. Even Suzi with an i.

“I want to talk to you about all that,” Candy was saying. “But today, in a few minutes actually, I’m doing an on-camera interview. In fact, no matter how the Senate vote goes, until it’s over, my schedule is nuts.

“But next week I have a couple of evenings free,” she continued. “Let’s have dinner at my house. I still don’t cook, but we could order out. Something fattening. For you I wouldn’t have to wear a power suit and control-top panty hose. We’d have an entire evening, uninterrupted, to eat, drink too much, get maudlin, catch up. I’d love that.”

“I’d love that, too,” he said. “Let’s definitely do it. But in the meantime, I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything for you, you know that.”

“Get me an appointment with Cobb Fordyce.”

She gave an abrupt laugh. “What? Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he said, using a phrase they’d used when they were teenagers.

“What for?”

“I told you five years ago that the business with Suzi Monroe was a setup. I haven’t changed my mind, Candy. In fact, I’m more convinced than ever. I want to look the attorney general in the eye and ask him what he knows about it.”

He could hear her inhaling deeply, and could envision the vertical frown line between the eyebrows that she’d often cursed as the bane of her existence. She had to pluck them weekly.

She said, “If you were set up, why do you think Cobb would know anything about it?”

“Because he was one of the fabulous four.”

“You mean one of the four heroes of the fire?”

Tired of skirting the issue, he was ready to lay it on the line. “Those four plotted to discredit me and stop my investigation. Suzi Monroe’s death was part of their cover-up.”

“Cover-up for what?”

“Cleveland Jones and how he died.”

“Cleveland Jones? The detainee who set the fire?”

“Allegedly. It’s too long a story to go into now, but basically my investigation was getting close to the truth, and the truth was that Jones was murdered in that quasi interrogation room, and the fire was a smoke screen, literally. Suzi Monroe was killed to sabotage me.”