At the River’s Edge The Chesapeake Diaries (13 page)

“They’re going to be perfect. Your aunt is totally Rosemarie, and Laura will be amazing as Charlotte. I can’t wait till it’s finished.”

“There’s a long way to go before we can put this baby in the can, but I appreciate your enthusiasm. Everyone agrees that Berry is going to be radiant in the role, but not everyone’s on board as far as Laura is concerned.”

“Oh, you know that everyone’s a critic. I think Laura will be wonderful and the movie will win all sorts of awards.”

“Thank you so much, Sophie. It’s nice to get support from the hometown crowd.”

Sophie could have reminded Dallas that she wasn’t exactly hometown, but she let it go. Instead, she asked as casually as she could, “So when do you think you’ll be up and running?”

“By the summer, definitely. I expect to have the cast firmed up and the crew hired on by April, May at the latest. I want to be shooting by the summer.” Dallas smiled. “You interested in an audition?”

“Me?” Sophie laughed. “I couldn’t act to save my life, but it’s nice of you to ask.”

Grace Sinclair appeared at her elbow, camera in hand. “Ladies, may I take your picture for the paper? The
St. Dennis Gazette
has covered this event for the past forty years or so, you know. Always had the money shot on the front page.”

“I think Dallas is the very definition of money shot,” Sophie said. “I think this is my cue to find
my brother.” She turned to Dallas. “Good seeing you again.”

“Likewise. And if you change your mind about auditioning, you give me a call.”

“Not going to happen, but thanks.” Sophie drifted off into the crowd, scanning the room for Jesse or Brooke. She did catch a glimpse of Jason, his arms folded, head bent as he appeared to be listening to a pretty dark-haired woman who was looking up at him as if he were a big, yummy slice of chocolate cake and she couldn’t wait to take a bite. A shot of something hot suddenly stung Sophie right around her midsection.

Ridiculous
, she chastised herself.
Jason and I have nothing in common except Logan
. She turned her back, the hot little nugget in her gut still sizzling.

“There you are.” Jesse, still dressed in a three-piece suit, motioned to her from about ten feet away. “I’ve been looking for you. I wanted to thank you again for going through those résumés. You did a great job. I’m going to ask Violet to call your number one and set up an appointment.”

“I already did. She’ll be in on Friday morning. I cleared it with Violet. She said you were free.”

“Thanks, Soph. I don’t know when I would have gotten to it.”

“If you had a good paralegal, you might be able to have dinner with your fiancée one or two nights a week.”

Jesse nodded. “Don’t think I’m happy about the way things are.”

“Look, I’m sorry that I didn’t really believe you,
about you being so jammed with work. I thought you were just trying to get me to move to St. Dennis.”

“Well, there is that.”

“You can hire another lawyer, Jess. I don’t know how you’re going to avoid it if the firm is going to maintain its reputation.”

“I didn’t want to be the one to change the name of the firm from Enright and Enright to Enright and someone else.” Jessie’s expression said it all. “But I guess you’re right. The reputation is more important than the name of the firm. I guess I’ll talk to Pop, make sure he’s okay with it.”

“I think he’d rather see the name change than to see you work yourself into a divorce before you’ve even had time to enjoy a little married life.”

“Brooke’s a rock—don’t kid yourself. And she works a lot of long hours, too. Runs her business, raises her son …”

“Yes, but you’re going to have to be more involved with that now, too. You’re going to be his father, Jess. You have to be there for something more than his sports teams on Saturdays.”

Jesse nodded; it was clear to Sophie that he understood his responsibilities and wasn’t happy feeling that he wasn’t currently totally fulfilling them.

“Would it be tossing salt into the wound to tell you that you need to hire another office manager–receptionist?”

“Yeah, but go ahead,” Jesse groaned. “Pile it on.”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s all right. It’s true. Violet needs to be able to retire for real this time. Though I don’t know if
anything would keep her out of the office completely. I mean, that office is a big part of her life.”

“I know, but if you hired a manager, Violet could just pick out the things she likes to do, and she could come in two or three times each week for a few hours here and a few hours there when she felt like it, do what she wanted to do, then go home.”

“That’s what she was doing when I first started here, but she came back full time pretty much because she didn’t trust me.”

Sophie nodded. Violet had admitted as much to her.

“She stayed on because she wanted to,” he continued. “I think it makes her feel young, you know, like she did when Pop was just starting out and she came to work for him and his dad. I don’t know if she’d trust anyone else to step into her job.”

“I think if you found the right person, she’d be okay about turning over the desk and her keys.”

“Well, the desk, maybe, but I don’t see her giving up that key ring without a fight.”

“So let her keep the keys for old times’ sake.”

“That could work.” Jesse’s eyes were drawn to something over his sister’s shoulder. “Say, is that Pop? He said something about wanting to see Logan’s project, but I didn’t expect him to show.”

Sophie turned in time to see Jason spot her grandfather at the same time she did. Turning away from the woman who was obviously trying to hold his attention, Jason greeted the old man with a pat on the back and a wide grin. The two men fell into what appeared to be an easy conversation. Funny, Sophie thought, that Jason seemed more interested in her
grandfather than he had in the young woman, who was looking slightly miffed.

“Nice of Pop to stop by.” Jesse raised a hand to get his grandfather’s attention, but Curtis, accompanied by Jason, was on his way to Logan’s table. “Let’s catch up with them.”

“You go on,” Sophie told him. “I’ll be over in a minute.”

Jesse made his way through the growing crowd while Curtis made slow progress in the same direction. Jason’s steady hand on the older man’s elbow guided him safely to his destination. Once there, Jason stood slightly behind Curtis as if guarding him. Several times, he extended his arm protectively across Curtis’s back. It didn’t take long for Sophie to realize that Jason was shielding him from being jostled by people going by. The small gesture went straight to her heart.

She walked through the throng to Logan’s display.

“Hey, Pop.” She greeted him with a kiss on the cheek.

“Well, there’s my girl.” Curtis reached out for her hand. “Did you see Logan’s project? Brilliant, don’t you think?”

“I do,” she agreed.

“Pop, look,” a beaming Logan called to him.

“What’s that you’ve got there, son?” Curtis stepped closer to the table.

“I got an honorable mention.” Logan held up the ribbon.

“Thanks for watching out for him,” Sophie whispered to Jason. “He should be using a walker—or at
the very least, a cane in a crowd like this—but he’s too proud.”

“He’s doing okay,” Jason assured her, leaning in a little closer. “We just need to keep an eye on him.”

“I appreciate that you’ve been doing that.”

Jason shrugged, as if his vigilance were of no consequence. “He’s a good man, your grandfather. I’ve been working with him for the last few months and I’ve grown very fond of him.”

“It looked to me as if he’s equally fond of you.”

“We get along,” Jason replied.

She took a few steps back so as to not be overheard.

“I think he’s slowed a bit since Christmas.” She waited for his response. “Have you noticed any changes in him over the past month or so?”

“Maybe a few steps slower, but mentally, the man is as sharp as they come.”

“I understand you’re designing some gardens for him.”

“We’re working together on that. He wants to restore the formal garden that was behind the house at one time—probably a hundred years ago or so—and he wants to re-create his wife’s rose garden. We found the remnants of a wall near the carriage house, and he’d like that rebuilt and some beds there refurbished.” Jason looked down at her and smiled. His eyes held hers for a second or two.

There it was again. That
zing
.

“He’s the best kind of client,” Jason continued. “He knows what he wants, and he gets out of my way and lets me do it.”

“Has he seemed … not sure how to say this … somewhat fatalistic to you lately?”

Jason frowned. “I’m not sure what you’re asking me.”

“Does he talk a lot about dying?” she blurted out.

“Sometimes. I guess at his age, the thought does cross your mind from time to time. He doesn’t seem particularly concerned about it, though. If anything, he’s pretty blunt about looking forward to being with your grandmother again.”

“To hear him tell it, they’re together all the time.” Sophie made a face. “According to him, she’s never left.”

“Oh, right. The gardenia thing.”

“You’ve smelled it? Gardenia?”

“Sure. At least, I think I have. But do I know where the scent’s coming from?” Jason shook his head. “I thought I figured it out when he was showing me around his greenhouse. There’s a huge old gardenia plant in there, but it wasn’t in bloom. I even picked a leaf off and sniffed it to see if it gave off any fragrance, but it didn’t.”

“He swears it’s her. My grandmother.”

“Who’s to say it isn’t? And why does it bother you so much?”

“I’m a prosecutor. I deal strictly in facts. Are you telling me that you believe in ghosts? You believe she’s really there?”

“It doesn’t matter what I believe, only what he believes. Whether she’s really there with him …” Jason shrugged.

“So in other words, it doesn’t matter what I think, either.”

“Not to sound rude, but no, actually, it doesn’t. Your grandfather isn’t a stupid man. He’s one of the
smartest men I’ve ever met. If he believes she’s there, that they communicate with each other, that’s good enough for me.” Jason turned his attention for a moment to the man under discussion, watched his interaction with Logan.

“How did he get here?” it occurred to Sophie to ask. “God, I hope he didn’t drive that big old Caddie of his …”

“He said one of his neighbors gave him a ride. I told him I’d drive him home, though.”

“That’s nice of you, but I can drive …” Her phone buzzed in her jacket pocket. She reached in and pulled it out, checked the number. Her office. “I should probably take this.”

She answered the call, but the background noise in the auditorium was so loud, she couldn’t hear. She made her way through the crowd as quickly as she could, passing through the double doors into the hallway.

“Hello?” she repeated when she reached the lobby.

“Sophie … it’s Christopher.” He added hastily, “Don’t hang up, it’s about work. One of your cases.”

“Which one?” Her jaw set squarely. The sound of his voice went straight to her gut and made her stomach turn.

“State versus Liston, Essex, and Crowley.”

“My rape case? What about it?” She frowned. Why would he be calling about that?

“There was a hearing today, and …”

“What hearing? There was no hearing scheduled.”

“Defense counsel for Essex filed a motion on Tuesday morning …”

“Why am I just hearing about this now?”

“I’m trying to tell you. Just … just listen, okay?” His exasperated sigh was unmistakable. “Counsel filed a motion to dismiss the charges for lack of evidence, and …”

“There were hairs from all three attackers on her clothing.” She pushed the door open and went down the steps and onto the sidewalk, where she began to pace. A stiff breeze blew across the parking lot, and she shivered inside her wool blazer. She wished she’d paid more attention to the weather reports.

“They all admit to having been in her home on several occasions. They’re claiming the hairs could have been transferred somehow, like from the sofa where they all sat to watch TV.”

“There was a witness who saw them drag the girl into the alley.”

“Past tense.”

“What do you mean, ‘past tense’?” Sophie’s heart dropped.

“I’m saying there’s no witness.”

“No, there
is
a witness. Gloria Davis. I’m set up to interview her next Wednesday.”

“Is there a written statement from her that I don’t know about?”

“Not yet. She told me she was at her father’s in Indiana but that she’d come back next week to give me a statement.”

“Well, I’m afraid she’s already given her statement. To the defense. And it probably isn’t what you were looking for.”

“Are you telling me that she’s changed her story?”

“According to Davis, she met up with the three guys just after they’d left the vic a block from her
house. Says she saw the girl walking alone. Says all three of the guys walked with her—with Davis—to a party on the other side of town. Lacking any other evidence against them, and given the other circumstances, Judge Winston dismissed the case. There was no DNA and they’re all maintaining their collective innocence.”

“They’re lying and you know it. They raped that girl, Chris. You know it and I know it.”

“Knowing and proving are two different things. You have a victim who was drunk and doesn’t even remember the actual rape, so she can’t identify her rapists …”

“They literally poured liquor down her throat, Chris. She was not a willing participant.”

“So she says.”

“Don’t,” she growled. “Don’t even say that. That girl was innocent. She’s a victim—she does not deserve this.”

When he made no response, she asked, “Is it done?”

“It’s done. At least for now. Maybe some evidence, some other witness will pop up at some point, but for now, it’s over.” He hesitated before adding, “I’m sorry. I know how you feel about this case. How passionate you are about the victim. I understand, Sophie. I really do.” Another pause. “I miss that, you know? Your passion for finding the truth, for protecting the innocents. I miss
you
, Sophie. Look, I know I screwed up and I’m more sorry than I can say. If I could just go back to that day … it never would have happened.”