Naked Hope (32 page)

Gavin turned to go.

“Gavin.”

He pivoted, hope reflected in his wide, blue-gray eyes.

Jill almost lost her follow-through. “I can’t keep this.” She held out the velvet box containing his Christmas gift.

Gavin made no move to take the box.

She stepped forward just enough to tuck the box into his hand. “Your mother told me it’s a
family
heirloom.” Her voice cracked. “It doesn’t belong to me.”

****

Ross tipped back and clasped his hands behind his neck. “You’re sure about this?”

His office felt cold, and close. Jill crossed her arms and shivered. “Yes.”

He squinted over the top of his readers. “Well, this is your call, Jill. But let’s be clear about something. You didn’t want to take the girl because you knew the father was risky. We overrode your decision. Now, the situation has reversed itself, and surprisingly, so have you. If it were me, even if she manages a strong progression through the next three weeks, I wouldn’t keep her in the program. The risk that she won’t do well, or that he’ll flake out on you again, remains high.”

Jill dug her heel into the carpet. “Taking her out would affect the trial. I’ll have to report one of the participants couldn’t complete the program. If she can make it through the next three weeks and we can keep her in, the trial won’t be affected.”

Ross drummed his fingers on the edge of his desk. “I see your logic, but in or out, none of this releases you from co-chairing the gala with Edith Fairfield.”

Jill blew out a soft breath. “Shouldn’t be a problem. Most of my part is already done.”

Two weeks later, Jill ran her hand over Wonder’s fur, deep in thought. Olivia had made almost no measurable progress. Next week would tell the story.

Her cell phone vibrated. Gage’s photo popped up.

Jill picked up the call.

“I’ve made some of that pasta you like so much. Why don’t you come on over. There’s something I want to show you.”

“I don’t know, Gage.” Jill stalled. “The last thing I should be doing right now is eating pasta.”

“The pasta’s optional. You’ll want to see this—door’s open. See you in a minute.”

Jill tucked Wonder in next to Sydney on the bed, selected a rich bottle of cabernet, and ran out without bothering to put on a coat or boots. The cold stole away her breath. She burst into Gage’s kitchen. The tantalizing smell of garlic and cheese assaulted her, making her realize just how hungry she was. A heaping bowl waited.

Gage pointed. “Good, you’re just in time.”

Jill held up the bottle of wine. “I’ll trade you. Oh my God, Gage, this smells fabulous.”

Gage chewed the inside of her lip as she poured the wine. “Well, eat up now,” she warned. “Because after you see the photos, you won’t have much of an appetite.”

Jill sucked in her breath. “The accident report?”

Gage nodded.

“Damn, I knew it would be bad.”

“You have no idea.” Gage shook her head. “This is beyond bad. Vivienne Fairfield was decapitated.”

“No way.” Jill set down her bowl and took a gulp of wine.

“After-the-fact,” Gage continued. “They couldn’t get the body out without severing her head from her neck.”

Jill’s stomach flipped. “No.”

Her friend swallowed a forkful of pasta. “Well, that’s what they first thought, and that’s what appeared in the original report. That, my friend, is what your boy Gavin’s been living with.” She stabbed another forkful. “They figure the only way Olivia survived that wreck is because she must have fallen asleep and somehow slid off the back seat onto the floor.”

Jill pushed away the pasta and topped off her wine. “Do me a favor and start from the beginning.”

Gage lifted her glass. “It’s easy for mistakes to be made at a crime scene like that—especially when no one realizes it’s a crime scene. At first, everyone thought it was just a terrible accident. But the truth is, a lot of sloppy, small town work took place—or in this case, didn’t take place.”

Frowning, Jill said, “You’re losing me.”

All scientist now, Gage nodded. “I always have to remind myself that as a forensic scientist, I see everything after the fact, and the pieces are generally a lot clearer than in the heat of the moment at a crime scene. In the Fairfield accident, lots of assumptions were made. Of course, there was so much publicity, everyone just wanted to be done with the investigation. Things that should have been investigated, weren’t.”

“For instance?” Jill repressed a shudder.
What things?

“Like, two medical examiners were on the scene. Each thought the other one had given the release to have Vivienne’s body removed, and assumed the decapitation had been necessary to untangle her from the wreck.”

“But it didn’t happen that way?”

Gage shook her head. “I asked my colleague, Paul, to look into it after you asked me about the accident report. Turns out, the truth tells a very different story.”

Gripping the counter, Jill asked, “Does Gavin know?”

“No. They were still wrapping things up conclusively when Paul sent me his findings. They’ll want everything buttoned up before they release their findings.”

Jill hopped off her stool, reached for one of the blue wool throws on Gage’s sofa, and wrapped it around her shoulders before returning to her stool. “What does all this mean?”

“Paul said that everything Vivienne packed belonged to her. Nothing could even remotely be considered Olivia’s.”

“So, whatever Vivienne was planning didn’t involve Olivia.”

“Right,” Gage nodded. “But things were just tossed into bags with no apparent order or care.”

“Gavin said she was in a state.”

“Well, it’s more than that,” Gage said, shaking her head. “They think she bolted. They think she was being threatened.”

Jill stared at the photos.
Threatened? Yet another twist.
“By whom?”

Gage put on a pair of readers and pointed. “See this guy?”

Several of the photos caught a man hulking in the background whose body language suggested curiosity, even elation.

“They’re looking for that guy now.” Gage tapped a finger on the photo. “They’ve ID’d him as Linus Hawke, a grifter with a long history of preying on rich women—he’s suspected of murder.”

“Isn’t that a little atypical for a grifter?”

Gage shrugged. “Grifters want to get in and get out and they’re typically not violent, but Vivienne had a long list of lovers. Did you know that? Paul’s theory is that she had some kind of falling out with Hawke when she found out he was playing her for her money. He thinks something went down between them that frightened her so much, she was literally fleeing for her life.”

“So, the fight with Gavin had nothing to do with the accident.” Jill rested a hand on the counter to steady herself as relief surged through her body.

“According to the latest findings, the best we can determine is that, Vivienne was making a fast exit and Gavin happened to come along, they had their fight, which upset Olivia, and her grandmother comforted her. Later, when things appeared to have settled down, Olivia slipped away and hid in the car her mother had jammed full of boxes and other paraphernalia.”

Jill twirled her wine. “I’m not sure this does anything to alleviate Gavin’s feelings of guilt.”

“Well, it proves she wasn’t planning to kill Olivia any more than she was planning to kill herself.”

“Yes, but now he’ll feel responsible because she was in deep trouble and didn’t think he’d help her, or even listen. Which led to her running away, and Olivia hiding, which led to the accident that he has believed he caused every day since it happened.”

“Sure, but you’re making a rookie mistake. You’re assuming rational behavior. But Vivienne was anything but rational, and after a fight like the one you described, neither was Gavin.”

“I’ve already tried telling him that he couldn’t have anticipated the accident.”

Gage looked at Jill over her readers. “He’s lucky, you know. The husband is always the first suspect when a wife is found murdered. After the police realized Gavin wasn’t in the car, and they couldn’t find him, he became a person of interest. And then, when he did show, he kept repeating that he was responsible. Meanwhile, the storm got so bad

”

“It stormed? Thunderstorm?” Jill jerked in surprise.

“Worst one in three decades. The storm slowed everything long enough for his dad to convince the DA it was in everyone’s best interests to wrap it up and move on. The storm destroyed the crime scene, the pieces seemed to fit, and enough money exchanged hands so they went ahead and declared the event a suicide/attempted homicide. If Vivienne’s killer hadn’t been careless enough to get his photo taken, Paul might not have tumbled to any of this.”

“You said the original report indicated severing her head became necessary in order to remove the body from the wreck. That’s not the case?”

Gage grimaced. “No.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Excuse me, Maestro.” Baines cleared his throat in the doorway of the music hall. “The two detectives who called earlier are at the door.”

“Very good, Baines. Take them to the library. I’ll get Dad.”

Detectives Danforth and Lancer extended their hands. Lawrence ignored them, but Gavin exchanged brief handshakes. He pointed to the sofa. “Please, have a seat,” and took a seat near the fireplace.

“Never mind about getting comfortable, what’s this about new information? I thought we were done with all of this,” Lawrence demanded.

“It’s all right, Dad. Let them talk.”

Detective Danforth swallowed hard. “As I said on the phone, we have new information. Look, there’s no easy way to say this. Your wife was having an affair with a pretty bad guy by the name of Linus Hawke. Were you aware of this?”

Lawrence’s eyes narrowed. “My son’s knowledge of his wife’s affairs isn’t open for discussion here. Get to the point, man.”

“Now see here,” Lancer objected.

Danforth cut his partner off with a warning glance. “Hawke has a long record of preying on women for their money, and he’s suspected in a number of homicides. But we’ve never gathered enough evidence to prosecute. It seems your wife got wise to his game and tried to dump him. But he wouldn’t dump, and threatened her. Scared her pretty bad. Enough so that she tried to run away. She ever try to talk to you about this guy? Mention she was in trouble?”

Gavin shook his head long past feeling surprise to learn of yet another affair. “No. But we were well beyond talking about anything.”

“So, she left in your car—presumably because she thought Hawke wouldn’t recognize it. Hawke followed her, a high speed chase ensued, and she lost control of the car. You saw what a wreck it was. One of the worst I’ve ever seen. She hit the piling at high speed.”

Gavin leaned against a row of books and closed his eyes. “Is there more?”

Danforth pursed his lips. “’Fraid this won’t go down easy. The medical examiner says she was still alive when Hawke used a sawed-off sword to decapitate her. He then proceeded to call the accident into two different precincts. That bridge is on the border between Sheraton and Crow counties. that’s how we ended up with two medical examiners on the scene in the dead of night in the worst storm in three decades. They each thought the other had already examined the body.”

Gavin’s insides exploded. “Did Olivia see?”

Danforth glanced at his watch. “We can’t know for sure, but it’s likely she was knocked unconscious on impact.”

Gavin bolted from the room and up the stairs calling for Olivia. When he didn’t find her, he charged into the sunroom where Olivia was sitting on her swing. Without hesitation or explanation, he hauled her up into his arms and crushed her like a wild man.

After several moments, her arms slid around his neck.

“It’s okay, Dad. I know you love me.”

Three days later, he was almost out the door for Olivia’s three-week evaluation when his mother stopped him.

“Come back inside a moment, dear.” He recognized her tone and knew better than to argue.

She handed him a stiff white envelope.

”What’s this?”

“Read it now, before you go to your appointment with Jillian.”

Gavin used the bow of his sunglasses to slit open the envelope. He unfolded the letter and recognized his Uncle Raleigh’s rather formal handwriting.

Gavin, my boy,

If you’re reading this, it means I’ve finally gone and kicked the bucket. Pardon an old man for imposing like this but I must ask of you a favor. It would please me if you would consent to take me one last time to South Wales where I can be buried next to my beloved MaryAnn in the little country cemetery not far from St. David’s in Pembrokeshire.

My second request is one I fear you will think frivolous but one I ask you consider, despite how you may feel. My final wish is that you spend a few days in the family home near Whitesands Bay. You have the Celtic sea in you. Your soul cries out for it. Don’t do this for me, boy. Do this for yourself.

Yours affectionately,

R.G.F.

Edith kissed her son’s forehead. “At Christmas, he made me promise to give you this letter after his passing.”

****

Jill looked up to see Gavin leaning against the frame of her doorway. Dressed in gray, his wool sweater and trousers emphasized his well-muscled arms and the leanness of the rest of his body. He looked as ruggedly aristocratic as ever.

Neither of them said anything. His gaze probed hers. She steeled herself. No matter how much she’d missed him over the last three weeks, they were over.

“I miss you,” he said. When she didn’t respond, he continued, “I’m going away. I don’t know for how long. Maybe forever. I’m not sure.”

Blood rushed in her ears. She forced herself to remain silent even though her heart pleaded,
don’t go
.

“And I’m taking Liv with me. I know she’s doing better. I don’t need you to tell me that. But I agreed to keep this appointment, so here I am.”

Jill barely trusted herself to speak. “Yes, she’s shown improvement. The last three days have started to tell a very different story.”

“Since I learned the truth about the accident.”