Suspicion of Vengeance (25 page)

Driving away from the man's house, in a much better frame of mind, Gail knew she had added a few grains of sand to the scales. But it wasn't enough. Proof of innocence was required. She needed to name the killer.

The second juror spoke through the screen door and said she didn't want to get involved. A third said he couldn't afford to take the time off to testify. Gail left a copy of the proposed affidavit and her business card.

Hector Mesa had located four others in the area, but Gail had not been able to reach them by telephone, and there was no time to send letters. Hector was still working on finding Lougie Jackson's friends, and if one of them could be located, Kenny's alibi could be buttressed by additional testimony.

Her last stop was Sunset Villas Retirement Home.

She knocked at the open door to Ruby Smith's room, then went inside. Ruby put away some letters she was writing and lifted her arms. She hugged Gail tightly around the neck, and Gail remembered being hugged like this twenty-five years ago. She pulled a chair close and sat down.

"When's Irene coming over to see me with that sweet little girl of yours?"

"Tomorrow," Gail told her. "Mom wants to take you to lunch after you come back from church. Would that be all right?"

"I'll cancel all my other dates," Ruby joked, then her expression grew serious. "How are you doing, honey? How's the appeal coming along?"

Gail took her time, telling Ruby everything, not wanting to give her false hopes. She thought that Ruby should be prepared for the worst, if it happened.

"Oh, don't be so downhearted." Ruby took Gail's hand. "I'll tell you something. Jesus spoke to me again. It was last Wednesday. I was just sitting here, about to go to bed, and the room got so bright, and I heard his voice. Tear not.' Just those two words. Fear not."

Gail nodded, unsure what to say. "Did anyone else hear this?"

Through the thick glasses, Ruby's faded eyes seemed to smile. "No, precious. I'm not going crazy. I have hope that Kenny Ray will be all right, I guess that's what I'm trying to tell you, and you shouldn't be afraid to hope for the best, either. We're not driving this bus, we're just along for the ride." She squeezed Gail's hand. "When are you going to the prison again?"

"Next week," Gail said. "After I write the motion to overturn his conviction, Kenny needs to sign it." Another flight to Jacksonville, another rental car. "Ruby, I need to get a check from you."

"Yes, you do." She took her old leather-covered Bible from the TV table next to her chair. A check protruded from between the gilded pages, and Ruby tugged it free. "Here. I already made it out."

Fifteen thousand dollars.

"I put in the extra five because I know it can't be cheap for you, all this work you're doing." She closed her Bible and folded her hands on top of it. Her nails were ridged with age, and heavy veins showed through the nearly transparent skin. With some hesitation, Ruby asked, "Will that be enough?"

Gail stared down at the check. The first ten thousand had vanished like dust blown from the palm of her hand, and fifteen more wouldn't last much longer. But it was impossible to ask for more. Anthony Quintana would have something to say about it—if Gail decided to tell him.

"Yes. It's fine." She bent down to kiss Ruby's cheek. "Thank you."

CHAPTER 16

Saturday night, March 17

Sunset at River Pines put a warm glow on the beige stucco houses and sent long shadows across immaculate lawns. The main road curved past the landscaped shopping center, past the Pines Riding Academy, and eventually around the golf course to the River Pines Club. With its columns and tile roof, it resembled a Mediterranean villa. Anthony and Gail sat on a tree-shaded bench by the tennis courts and watched the side entrance. There was a portico and under it, a woman taking names.

Gail had told Anthony the dress code: casual chic. He wore a cappuccino brown jacket and pleated pants with an open-collared black silk shirt. His narrow snakeskin belt with the gold buckle was a work of art. Gail had asked him to look in his closet for her short black sleeveless dress and matching high-heeled sandals. This would have been perfect for an evening affair in Miami. But they were not in Miami. The men and women walking through that door might have been going to a business meeting. Gail remembered now what Jackie had told her: McGrath was seducing the local politicians and chamber-of-commerce types before the commission voted whether to approve Phase Two.

Anthony spread his arms out lazily on the back of the bench, an ankle on his knee. "Are we going in or not?"

"In a minute. I'm waiting for that woman at the door to take a potty break."

"Gail, she's only there to write name tags. 'Hello, I'm... Billy Bob."

"Be nice." Gail crossed her legs and tugged her skirt down, hoping the bench didn't snag her hose. "What do you think of River Pines?"

"I've seen it all over South Florida."

"You think I'm on the wrong track with Whit McGrath, don't you?"

"Dodson killed his wife. When the pathologist finishes with the autopsy reports, and tells us that the time of death was off, I want to hear you say, 'Oh, Anthony, I was so wrong. We should have spent two hours in bed instead of enduring that party' "

The woman at the door got up from her table and went inside. Gail grabbed her purse. "Come on, let's go"

Hand in hand they hurried across the grass and under the portico. On the table was a list of names with check marks beside them. Gail quickly wrote her and Anthony's names on stick-on tags and patted one onto his jacket and the other onto her dress. They vanished among a crowd of a hundred other people.

A piano played light jazz, and servers passed through with trays of hors d'oeuvres. A line had formed at the bar. All activities were pushed to the perimeter because the middle was taken up with a table at least ten feet on each side, illuminated by spotlights. Holding on to Anthony's shoulder, Gail followed in his wake as he eased through the crowd to get closer.

It was a scale model of River Pines in its final incarnation, if McGrath got the permits he wanted. There were clusters of homes and condominiums in gated communities, three golf courses, a movie theater, riding trails, shopping areas, and schools. Everything radiated from a town center that featured a hotel and conference center curving around a man-made lake. More colonnades and stucco and barrel tile roofs—Boca Raton washing northward.

Barely moving her lips, Gail read aloud, " 'River Pines. Florida's New Home Town.' Oh, my God. It's a
city."

Anthony leaned close to her. "You don't like it? You wouldn't want to live here?"

Gail stood on tiptoe. "I wonder where he is." All she had was Jackie's description: early forties, shaggy blond hair, and dimples. Her eyes swept over the crowd. A smaller group gathered in the back of the room near the piano. She saw the top of a man's head, the light picking up golden streaks in his hair. Someone moved out of the way. The man was sun-bronzed and lean, dressed in a navy blue jacket and tan slacks. White shirt, no tie. The clothes looked as though he'd had them for years, but they draped wonderfully well. He gripped a friend's shoulder and laughed in that booming, confident way of men who couldn't care less.

"That's got to be him," she said.

"Go find out," Anthony told her.

"Want to come with me?"

"It's your case." Standing behind her, Anthony put a kiss on her neck. His lips moved at her ear. "Come back and tell me that such a man could feel threatened by a girl like Amber."

"You're going to apologize when you find out I'm right," she said.

Anthony gave her a little shove. "Go on."

Gail maneuvered around the scale model and walked toward the piano. Even over the music she could hear Whit McGrath laughing. A server passed by, and Gail took a tiny pastry shell filled with caviar and sour cream. She nibbled it while McGrath talked about himself. How his parents, living on Jupiter Island, had sent him to prep school in Palm Beach. How he'd been suspended for hoisting an inflatable doll up the flagpole.

"My dad said one more stunt like that, you're going to Martin County High. That's just what I wanted! All my buddies were here. I passed out cartoons of the headmaster with his pants down, and bam! They expelled me. The next year at Martin County I played running back and we won the state championship. I said, 'Thanks, Dad.' "

Everyone laughed. Dimples appeared in his cheeks and lines fanned out from the corners of his sea-blue eyes. His lower lip was full and rosy. Gail had no doubt that Amber Dodson had wanted J. Whitney McGrath. Wanted him bad.

Standing with her weight on one hip, holding on to her narrow purse strap, Gail wondered how to break in. Then.McGrath noticed her. He waited until one of the other men had finished a joke, then gave him a clap on the back and said there were people he had to talk to.

He headed for Gail, coming closer, reading her name tag. "Gail Connor." He raised his eyes. Even his eyelashes were blond. "Hi. Whit McGrath. Now where have I heard your name?"

"I don't know, but I'm Jackie Bryce's cousin."

"Hello, Jackie's cousin." His hand was big and warm.

"She said to tell you hello."

"Did she? Tell her I said hello right back." McGrath had a slow, lazy smile. "Aren't you the lawyer who's working on the Clark case?"

"Where'd you hear that?" Gail wondered if Gary Dodson had told him.

"Gee, I don't remember."

"Could we talk for a minute? Maybe over there?"

Gail nodded toward a vacant area near some planters with bird-of-paradise.

He glanced at his guests. "Do you think they can find the bar without me?"

As they walked, Gail said, "I can't discuss the details, but I've uncovered evidence that Kenny Ray Clark is probably innocent. You knew the victim, and I was hoping you could help me out."

"Me? I barely knew Ms. Dodson. She worked for the sales office. All I remember is a cute little face at the reception desk. 'Morning, Mr. McGrath.' 'Hi, Amber.' " He lifted a hand as though she might still be there. "My God. What a tragedy. I was there at the trial for a couple of days, and I have to say, the case against your client was pretty compelling. What makes you think he's innocent?"

Gail said, "There were several mistakes in the original investigation, but I don't want to take up your time with that. What I wanted to ask—"

"No, it's okay. I'm curious." Whit McGrgth was standing so close that Gail had to tilt her head up to look at him. There was a little flat place on the bridge of nose, probably a collision with a sailboat jib or a ski pole. "You said you had evidence?"

"I'm sorry, I can't discuss the details of the case. You understand. I just wanted to ask you a couple of things about Gary Dodson." There was only a blank look in reply, and Gail added, "Amber's husband?"

"I know who he is."

"Mr. Dodson told me that he's been your lawyer ever since he opened his own practice. Is that true?"

"Not
my
lawyer. The company uses him now and then, but the general counsel is with a firm in Fort Lauderdale."

"Oh. I thought you used Hadley and Morgan in Palm Beach."

"Your information is a little dated," McGrath said.

"Apparently so." Gail made a mental note.

"So what's your question about Dodson? Or have I answered it?" McGrath moved in a little closer.

"Why do you—rather, why does your company use Gary Dodson?"

"Why not? I'd met him at Hadley and Morgan, and when he opened his own office, I told the personnel office to toss him some business. Sometimes one of the employees might need a real estate closing or a will, nothing too complicated." McGrath touched Gail's shoulder, his voice at such a low level she had to watch his lips to catch the words. "Then after his wife and baby died, the poor guy went to pieces, so we kept him on our referral list. I felt sorry for him."

Gail moved back a little, her shoulder blades brushing the wall. "Hadley and Morgan asked him to resign. Do you have any idea why?"

"Gee, I sure don't. That's the first I've heard of it."

"Mr. Dodson was working on something for you at the time. Do you know what it was?"

"For me?" McGrath crossed his arms and stroked his chin. He wore a stainless-steel Rolex Submariner scuffed from long use. A plain wedding band. His hands were tanned and muscular. "Dodson didn't work for me directly. My company retained the firm, and he worked for one of the partners. It couldn't have been important or I'd have been told."

"Did Amber ever talk to you about her husband's leaving Hadley and Morgan?"

"As I said before, Ms. Dodson was an employee, not a personal friend."

Gail did no more than look at him, but her knowledge must have communicated itself in the lift of her brows.

Whit McGrath swiveled slightly, facing the crowd. "Okay. Okay, I get it." He smiled so that anyone watching might have thought they were having a pleasant conversation. "You want to point fingers at somebody else. Create some doubt, get the public all excited. I don't know who you've been talking to, honey, but it stops. Now. You've got balls, interrogating me at my own party. Before you go, Ms. Connor, hear this. If you throw mud in my direction, if my name is used in any way in your attempt to free a convicted murderer, I will sue you for slander. I will have your license to practice law. My attorneys will sue you until you bleed. I'll do it for sport." He was still smiling.

Stunned, Gail could only stare up into his face.

"Got that?" He patted her shoulder as he stepped away.

She watched him greet an older couple walking toward him, open his arms wide. A handshake. A kiss on the woman's cheek. Arms around their shoulders, turning them toward the scale model of River Pines, his hair shining under the lights.

Anthony was looking across the room at her, dark eyes holding a question. Gail moved toward the exit, and he followed.

They got out of the car where the road turned to gravel and ended at a barbed-wire fence. Ahead of them lay a vast flat field of dirt, weeds, and rocks. Brush had been scraped into piles, but a few pine trees remained, dark silhouettes. A rusting No Trespassing sign with bullet holes in it hung on the barbed-wire fence, but the gate was open. They walked through it and down a gentle incline.