“You were a Peeping Tom.”
“I didn’t say I spied on you in the girls’ locker room.” So much for confession. Maybe it was better if he abandoned this line of conversation. He could interrogate the hardest of criminals, but when it came to sharing his own feelings, he was a washout. Kathy, his ex-wife, had pointed that out to him with annoying frequency. When she wasn’t badgering him to seek another promotion.
“I quit smoking when I got engaged to Eldon. He tried to make me over into someone worthy to be a Jas person.”
“How’d that work for him?”
“Not well enough, in his mother’s opinion. She thought a degree in art was useless, a career as a teacher was common. And working with disadvantaged kids? Repulsive. ‘God knows what sort of parasites and germs you bring home from work.’”
“I was blessed with a nice mother-in-law,” Ford said. That had been one of the worst things about the divorce—losing Stella along with Kathy.
“Was? You’re divorced?”
“I was something of a disappointment to my wife.”
Robyn studied him, as if trying to figure out exactly what his ex-wife had found lacking in him. He didn’t want to go there. It was a grocery list.
“It’s late,” he said, “and we have a long day tomorrow. Raleigh will get us the court order that will allow us access to all the evidence. When that happens, we’ll get media attention, so be prepared.”
“I hate reporters.”
“Reporters are our friends. They’re going to put the word out that we’re looking for information and that we’re willing to pay for it. Be nice to them.”
“If I have to. What should I do?”
“You figure out how to get Eldon to admit he was with someone that night. We’re going to visit him as soon as possible.”
“What about Trina? She was pretty upset. Should I try to talk to her?”
“Frankly, I consider Trina a loose cannon. I sure as hell don’t want her talking to Eldon about his indiscretions before we can get to him.”
Ford paid their check, refusing the money Robyn offered for her part. “I have an expense account.”
As they exited into another warm, muggy night, Robyn stopped suddenly. “Hell, I don’t have a way to get home. Trina was my ride.”
“I’ll take you.”
ROBYN HAD TRIED TO DISSUADE Ford from taking her home. She could have called a cab. But Ford had insisted, though it was far out of his way to drive all the way to Green Prairie.
She was glad he drove a large car. Even so, it felt crowded. The big, muscular kid she remembered had grown into a wide-shouldered, slim-hipped man without any extra pounds anywhere.
Built for speed.
That thought gave her a pleasurable shiver. Not that she’d want him to hurry… Oh, God, why was she thinking along those lines?
Learning that he’d watched her in high school had unnerved her. She’d watched him, too, stripped down to gym shorts and a cropped T-shirt on the football practice field, all sweaty. She’d loved to watch him move. He had an easy grace that most kids his age had lacked, a comfort with his own body. He hadn’t shown off and swaggered for the girls like some of his teammates, focusing on the drills with single-minded determination.
That was what she remembered most about Ford Hyatt—that concentration. If he took on a project, it got done. In the few classes they’d shared, he paid constant attention, took notes, asked questions. She remembered thinking how awesome it would be to have that attention focused on her.
Tonight she’d found out how it would feel. She should have been uncomfortable, pouring out the most intimate details of her life to him. Yet, after getting over her initial case of nerves, she’d felt okay talking to Ford. Good, even. It had been a relief to let down her guard and be perfectly honest—sort of the way she felt when she was throwing a pot or painting a picture.
She’d also felt more than one inappropriate shiver of desire. No man had ever really listened to her. Not the cops who’d interrogated her—they’d been more interested in putting words in her mouth and trying to catch her up. Certainly not Eldon, who wanted her to be the audience, soaking up his superior knowledge, following his instructions to better herself.
Being the sole focus of Ford’s attention had made her feel like she’d never felt before. She’d had a hard time remembering that this was the guy who’d once judged her so unfairly.
Robyn still burned every time she thought of that high school incident. She’d been trying so hard—so hard—to be good for once in her life. A two-month stay in a juvenile detention center had been an eye-opening experience, enough to convince her she did not want to hang around those people anymore, ever. She’d made big plans to change, to make something of herself.
And no one had noticed. Not her mother, who was way too wrapped up in her own problems. Not her teachers, who’d already made up their minds about her. Not her old friends, who had barely noticed that she wasn’t around anymore to smoke dope and spray-paint bridges.
But she kept on. And then came the unfair accusations, the humiliation of being accused of theft, the student government tribunal, which was run kind of like The People’s Court. And Ford, head of the tribunal, student body president, so smug as he’d handed down the tribunal’s decision.
She was kicked off the senior mural project. Looking back, it sounded silly that something so minor should still bother her. But her mural design had been chosen over a dozen others. It was the first time she’d excelled at anything, been chosen for anything, and she’d been as excited about it as a kid with her first finger paints. She’d been looking forward to having something positive to put on her college applications.
Ford had derailed all that.
She unearthed that old anger and held on tight to it as he drove her home. People like Ford could serve a purpose. That steel-spined sense of right and wrong, black and white and that dogged determination, were what she needed to free Eldon. But certainly no sane woman wanted a man like that in her personal life. No matter how good-looking he was. No matter how he made her stomach swoop.
Even if he was the first man to do so in years.
CHAPTER THREE
TWO DAYS LATER, ROBYN WAS getting antsy. After that first wave of urgency, Ford had become ominously silent. But when she got out of the shower that morning, the answering machine by her bed was flashing.
She pushed the button. “I have an appointment in Huntsville at two o’clock this afternoon,” came Ford’s no-nonsense voice. “I’ll pick you up at eleven. Wear something conservative.”
That was it. He didn’t identify himself, didn’t begin or end the message with pleasantries. Well, hell, it wasn’t as if they were going on a date, was it? They were visiting her ex-husband in prison. Hardly a romantic outing.
Just the same, she dressed with care. She didn’t have a lot of nice clothes. As an artist and art teacher, she tended to destroy clothes as fast as she could buy them, so jeans and T-shirts were the norm. But she did have a couple of outfits she’d worn to court. She chose her long, slim black skirt and a plain blue silk T-shirt, about as conservative as she could get.
In deference to the heat, she twisted her hair into a knot at the back of her head, holding it in place with a tortoiseshell comb. She refused to do stockings, but she wore high-heeled sandals.
She even wore makeup, something she didn’t bother with most days. Halfway through her mascara, she wondered whom she was trying to impress. But Ford had told her to