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BACK TO SPOTLIGHT
PAUL RICHARDSON
“It
means,” Ingram said in disgust, “that you’ve been
developing an obsession with that woman ever since we got
here and you started checking her out with the local
citizens. Every time you learned of some new good work of
hers, you got soft every time you talked to another one of
those handicapped kids she teaches, and whose parents
adore her, you got in deeper. Shit, when you found out she
also tutors illiterate women and sings in the church
choir, you were ready to nominate her for sainthood.
Tonight, every time she looked disapproving of your voice
or your question, you lost your momentum. You were already
biased in her favor when you only had her picture, but
when you saw her in the flesh tonight, your objectivity
went straight to hell.”
“That’s
bullshit.”
“Really?
Then suppose you tell me why you were so damned desperate
to find out if she slept with Benedict. She told you twice
that he didn’t rape her or force her in any way to have
sex with him, but that wasn’t enough for you. Why the hell
didn’t you just come out and ask her if she let him screw
her. Jesus,” he said in disgust, “I couldn’t believe it
when you asked her if she could describe the bed linens on
his fed for us, so we could try to trace the manufacturer
and locate the owner of his hideout that way!”
Richardson shot him an uncomfortable look. “Was it that
obvious?” he asked, opening his car door and getting out.
“I mean, do you think the family noticed?”
Ingram
got out, too. “Of course they noticed!’ he snorted, “Nice
little Mrs. Mathison was fantasizing about smothering you
with some of her cookies. Paul, use your head, Julie
Mathison is no angel, she got a juvenile arrest record – “
“That we
wouldn’t have known about if a copy hadn’t been left in
the files form the Illinois foster care authorities
instead of being destroyed years ago, like it should have
been,” Paul interrupted. “Furthermore, if you want to hear
the truth behind Julie’s petty rap sheet, then call Dr.
Theresa Wilmer in Chicago like I did, and let that shrink
chew your ass off. She thought – and still thinks – that
Julie is as straight and as fine as they come and always
was. Be honest, Dave,” he said as they walked side by side
up the path to their adjoining rooms. “Have you ever in
your life seen a pair of eyes like Julie Mathison’s in
your life?”
“Yeah,”
he said with a derisive snort, “Bambi had ‘em.”
“Bambi
was a deer. And his eyes were brown. Hers were blue – like
translucent dark blue crystals. My kid sister had a doll
with eyes like that once.”
“I do
not believe this conversation!” Ingram exploded in a low
voice. “Listen to you for God’s sake!”
“Relax,”
Paul sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. “If
you’re right – if she helped Benedict in his original
escape or if she gives us any reason to believe she’s
concealing information about him now – I’ll be the first
one to read her Miranda, and you know it.”
“I
know,” Ingram said, shoving his key into the lock and
opening his door while Richardson did likewise.. “ But
Paul?”
Paul
leaned back from his own doorway. “Yeah?”
“What
are you going to do if the only thing she’s guilty of is
sleeping with Benedict?”
“Find
the bastard and shoot him myself for seducing her.”
“And if
she’s innocent of that as well as collusion with him, then
what?”
A slow
smile tugged at Paul’s mouth. “In that case, I’d better
find myself a heart she’ll approve of and get myself a
transplant. Did you see the way she looked at me earlier
tonight, Dave? It was almost as if she knew me somehow, as
if we knew each other. And liked each other.”
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