Murder in Plain Sight

“I found your mother delightful.” The frost was back in her voice.

“Try being responsible for her and see how delightful it is.” He muttered the words and was instantly sorry. He didn’t need to be confiding in this woman, of all people. “She may have told any number of people. And there are people in Bobby’s office who might think it worth a tip to the paper.” He lifted an eyebrow. “The same might be said of your office, I suppose.”

“You suppose wrong. Any hint of indiscretion in an employee of the firm would lead to immediate dismissal.”

There was a note in her tone that he couldn’t quite read. “Sounds like your boss runs a tight ship.”

Her hands clenched on her lap, then eased, as if she made a deliberate effort not to show a reaction. “He does,” she said shortly. He felt her gaze on his face. “You’d better get used to the publicity. There may come a time when I’ll have to talk to the press. Thomas is going to need all the goodwill he can get.”

“If and when that happens, I’d advise you to keep my mother’s name out of it.”

“If you wanted to keep attention away from your family’s role in the case, you shouldn’t have interfered with my handling of that reporter. I was perfectly capable of dealing with her myself.”

His mood wasn’t improved by knowing that she was probably right. He’d acted on instinct, just as he so often accused his mother of doing.

Maybe it was time to change the subject. “How did you make out with Thomas?”

Her frown looked worried. “Not well. I’ll have to talk with this Mr. Frost as soon as possible. Thomas trusts him, and he’s not going to open up to me until Frost assures him it’s all right.”

“That’s easily done.”

He drew the car to the side of the road and stopped, then pulled out his cell phone and touched the number for Leo Frost’s private line. In a moment’s time he’d set up an appointment for Jessica for the next morning. When he ended the call, he realized that she was looking at him with more than a little annoyance in her face.

“What?” he said, answering the look. “You said you had to meet with him.”

“I didn’t say I wanted you to make an appointment for me. Or to interfere in my handling of the case.”

“Interfering? I thought I was being helpful.” He gave her the smile that women usually found disarming. It didn’t seem to have that effect on Jessica.

“I don’t need your help. I’d hoped I’d made that clear.”

He found he was gritting his teeth. “You’ve made your position clear enough. Now you’d better understand mine. As long as my mother insists on being involved in this case, I am, too. So you’d better get used to it, Counselor. We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other.”

CHAPTER FOUR

BY THE TIME JESSICA pulled into the parking lot at her town-house complex in Philadelphia, her head was splitting. She’d hit the city just in time for rush-hour traffic. Nobody wanted to be caught on the Schuylkill Expressway, known as the Sure-kill by locals, at that time of day.

Her headache intensified when her cell phone rang just as she walked in the front door. She frowned at the number.

Her father. That was unusual enough to give her a jolt of apprehension as she answered.

“Dad. Is anything wrong?”

“Perhaps I should be asking you that question, Jessica.” Her father’s voice was as crisp as if he were talking to an erring subordinate. “I understand you’re on shaky ground at work.”

She was tempted to ask how he knew that, but that would be pointless. Her father moved in rarified judicial circles, where everyone seemed to know everyone else’s business.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she said, hoping that was true as she closed the door behind her.

“I hope that’s true.” His voice echoed her thoughts. “I’ve invested my own political capital in obtaining that position for you. Don’t disappoint me.”

That was all. No question about whether she was being judged unfairly, no expressions of concern. She and her father didn’t have that sort of relationship. Still, he loved her in his own way, didn’t he?

“I’ll do my best.”

“Naturally.” Unspoken was his obvious suspicion that her best wouldn’t be good enough. “I’ll talk with you on the weekend.”

She hung up and blew out a frustrated breath as she turned toward her roommate. Sara Davenport was collapsed in their one recliner with her computer on her lap. “My father,” she said in explanation. “He’s heard about the job situation.”

“Don’t let it get to you,” Sara said, her voice warm with sympathy. She was one of the few people who knew how just how rocky Jessica’s relationship with her father was.

“I try.” She dropped onto the sofa, leaning her head back. “I’m going to have to get a motel room in Lancaster County, at least for the next week or so. Driving back and forth is a killer.”

“Don’t you have a date with Brett Dunleavy on Friday?”

She closed her eyes for a moment. “I’d forgotten. I’ll have to cancel.”

“You’d forgotten. Need I point out that that is a sad commentary on your relationship with young Dr. Brett?”

She’d have thrown a pillow at Sara if she weren’t so tired. “Brett understands. Given how busy his residency keeps him, he’s no more eager to get seriously involved at this point than I am.” She’d tried serious. It hadn’t worked.

“Couple of workaholics. Sounds like a match made in heaven.” Sara grinned. “So you’re forgetting your love life. This case must be a stinker.”

“It is, but what makes you think so?”

“If the partners were that ready to pass it off to you, that means they didn’t want to deal with it themselves.” Sara set the computer on the coffee table and shoved her glasses up on her head, using them to hold back her unruly tangle of red hair.

Since Sara had spent two years in a topflight firm in the city before escaping to a legal-aid office where she said she could at least help people who needed it, her advice was usually on target.

“You’re probably right.” Jessica rubbed her aching temples. “Henderson implied that the woman who’s paying for the defense asked for me, but I don’t see how that can be.”

“What’s the case? I haven’t had anything more interesting lately than the usual run of rotten absentee landlords. I spent the day arguing with a housing inspector, trying to convince him to do his job.”

“This would be right up your alley,” Jessica said. “You always like taking on the hopeless cases. I’ve got an Amish kid accused of the beating death of a woman who was apparently something of a party girl.”

“Amish? That is unusual. I can’t remember the last time I saw anything about an Amish person suspected in a crime.”

She hadn’t thought of Sara as a source of information. Maybe she should have. “I take it that means you’ve never represented one.”

“The Amish don’t spend much time in the city. I’ve been on the usual tour of Lancaster County, but that’s about it. Tell me about the defendant.”

“There’s not much to tell at this point.” Jessica rubbed the back of her neck, trying to get rid of the tension there. “He doesn’t trust me enough to talk to me, and I don’t know how to get through to him. His minister wants me off the case, and as far as I can tell, most of the community thinks he’s guilty.”

“What about the person who’s paying you?”

Jessica thought about how to explain Geneva Morgan. She wasn’t sure she could even explain to herself the effect the woman had on her.

“She’s totally convinced that the boy—Thomas Esch—is innocent, but it’s based on instinct, not on facts.”