Roan, walking beside him, felt the tension and energy pulsing through the mans body, and it reminded him of the geysers down in Yellowstone, the way theyd hiss and fume and rumble just before they blew.
You might want to keep your voice down, he said mildly, nodding toward the crowd of reporters and photographers gathered on the courthouse steps just outside the double glass doors. The senators heated indictment of the circuit court judge had included some adjectives of the type usually bleeped by the media, just clumsily enough so it was impossible to mistake the true meaning. Roan imagined getting caught using language like that wouldnt do a politicians public image much good.
Holbrook evidently didnt share Roans concerns, because his comment on the medias presence in Hartsville was more of the same-though he did deliver it with slightly lowered volume. At the bottom of the stairs he made an abrupt left turn and began to pace furiously back down the corridor away from the entrance, dragging a distraught hand through his hair.
My God, theyre like a flock of turkey buzzards, arent they? Like theyre waiting for your horse to die. Where do they come from? How do they get wind of things like this so fast?
Roan considered a man who made his living in national politics ought to be used to dealing with the news media, but when he made a comment to that effect, the senator waved it angrily aside.
Thats politics. This is personal. Theres a line there, and if those vultures cant see it they sure as hell ought to.
From what Roan knew of the media, he thought the line between personal and politics had gotten blurred a long time ago, but he knew better than to say so.
Instead, leaning one elbow on the newelpost at the bottom of the staircase and fiddling with his Stetson in an easygoing way, he drawled, Theyre just doing their job. Cant fault em for being good at it. Like you cant fault Harry Klein for being good at his. All he did was point out the reasons why his client ought to be granted bail, namely, no criminal record, no previous history of violent behavior, local business woman He paused when the senator frowned at him-not that he was surprised by the look; he hadnt tried all that hard to tone down the sarcasm. He met the steely stare with one of his own. The judge was doing his job when he granted it.
Holbrook made an impatient gesture and resumed his pacing. I dont give a damn about her previous history. That woman shot my son. If she gets away-
Thats not gonna happen, Roan said evenly. The adult part of him was controlling his temper and hanging on to his patience for the sake of another mans grief, but somewhere deep down inside him that little boy he liked to pretend wasnt there was still nursing the secret hurt of being denied the acknowledgment and approval of his father. Pitiful, he knew, but not much he could do about it. For one thing, Judge Conner set the bail high enough I doubt shell be able to make it, at least not right away. By the time she does we should have some results back from the crime lab. With physical evidence to back us up we might be able to get the judge to reconsider.
Holbrook scrubbed a hand over his face, and Roan could see him making an effort to rein himself in. What about this protected witness thing? Any chance they might whisk her away again, right out from under our noses?
Well, that might be what she was hoping for when she called em, Roan said with a dark half smile. If she was, shes gonna be disappointed. The U.S. Marshals Office doesnt intervene for protected witnesses in local criminal matters. Theyll cooperate with us on this-if they ever find her case worker and her file.
Well, that might be what she was hoping for when she called em, Roan said with a dark half smile. If she was, shes gonna be disappointed. The U.S. Marshals Office doesnt intervene for protected witnesses in local criminal matters. Theyll cooperate with us on this-if they ever find her case worker and her file.
Doesnt mean she wont try to disappear on her own, the senator growled.
If she does, Roan said, still being patient, were going to be there to stop her. But shes going to have to come up with that bail money first, and I dont think- He broke off because it was obvious Holbrook wasnt listening to him. The man was staring past him toward the courthouse doors like a wolf whod just spotted a rabbit, and Roan could almost see the fur on the back of his neck bristling.
What the hell? Isnt that-
Roan pivoted in time to watch his murder suspect, wearing the dowdy blue-denim skirt and faded pink blouse shed had on in court earlier, whisk through the double glass doors and disappear into the maw of the hungry media mob waiting outside.
Thats her-thats Owen. How the hell- Sputtering, Holbrook turned to glare at Roan. What the hell just happened?
Looks like she made bail after all, Roan muttered grimly. Seeing the woman-even that brief glimpse-had given him one helluva jolt, and set his heart beating in a way he couldnt account for, though he sure did try. Adrenaline, he told himself. The gut instinct to give chase when somebodys running. And she was running. He knew it with a certainty that clutched at his belly and shivered through every muscle and nerve in his body.
Evidently, he said in a grating voice, the woman has resources we didnt know about. Or somebody put it up for her.
Put it up for her? The senator looked around him in a half-bewildered, half-furious kind of way. Goddammit, whod do a thing like that?
I did, Clifford, and I would appreciate it if you would not swear in this courthouse, please.
At the sound of that firm and rasping voice, Holbrook jerked and spun around like a man whod just taken a haymaker punch to the chin. Roan pretty much did too, and he wondered if it was possible a United States Senator could be feeling the same way he was right then-like a tardy schoolboy caught in the hallway after the bell had rung. Together, both open-mouthed and speechless, they watched Ada Major, the court clerk, march toward them with her pocketbook under one arm, corseted and painted to within an inch of her life.
Roan was the first to find his voice. Miss Ada, he said, nodding a greeting.
Sheriff, said Miss Ada, returning the nod with her customary dignity. She turned back to the senator and clamped one bony blue-veined hand over his. Clifford, I want you to know how sorry I am about your boy. Truly sorry. I know the sheriff here is going to find out who did this awful thing- she paused to fix Roan with a tight-lipped glare -even if he has gotten off to an unfortunate start. Arresting Mary Owen She tsked and gave her head a shake, making her starched auburn curls bob only slightly.
Ada, the senator said in a wondering croak, why in the world did you put up that womans bail? You let my sons killer justwalk out of here?
The lady made a very unladylike noise. Oh bosh. That girl never killed anyone. She certainly doesnt belong in jail. Besides- Miss Adas eyes twinkled; she gave her curls a girlish pat -if Marys in jail, wholl do my wash and set come Friday?
Miss Ada-
Roan. The lady transferred her cool hard grip from the senators hand to Roans. Ive been working in this courthouse since before you were born-and you, Clifford, were a muddy-faced schoolboy. Ive seen a good many criminals come and go. I like to think Ive developed some instincts over the years, and they are telling me that girl is no criminal.
You dont need to be a criminal to commit murder, Miss Ada, Roan said, thinking about the conversation hed had with Boyd just yesterday. Sometimes you just have to be desperate.
Miss Adas eyes narrowed shrewdly. Ah, but this wasnt a desperate kind of murder, was it? From all I hear, whoever shot Jason Holbrook did so with a good deal of malice aforethought. If you can find so much as an ounce of malice in Mary, Ill eat my Aunt Fannys wig!
Roan didnt know what to say to that, so he just shook his head. The fact that in his heart he half agreed didnt help his mood any.
Well, said Miss Ada briskly, Id best get back to work. Clifford, its nice to have you come visit. Though its a pity it took a death to bring you home. Sheriff With a curt nod for each of them, she went clicking on down the corridor.
My God, Holbrook said as he watched the lady disappear into the clerk of courts office, I tried my first case in that womans courtroom, fresh out of law school. She hasnt changed a bit, has she?
Nope, said Roan, and not likely to. Shell be wearing that blue eyeshadow and red hair when they put her in her coffin. Since he didnt think it would be a good idea for the father of his murder victim to see him grinning, he ducked his head and spent an extra second or two setting his hat in place.
It only took those moments for the little spell of amusement to pass and that powerful sense of urgency and exasperation grab hold of him again. Mary Owen might not be Miss Adas idea of a murder suspect, but at the moment she was the only one he had and hed be damned if he was going to give her a chance to slip through his fingers.
He started for the doors, then paused and turned back, frowning. Senator, can I get somebody to drive you home?
No, you go on. Holbrook gave a gusty and resigned exhalation. I think Im going to stay here a bitsettle myself down some before I face all that. He nodded toward the mob beyond the glass doors and glared fiercely at Roan, his face pinched and grim. Go-justwhatever you do, dont let that woman get away.
Roan nodded and touched his hat brim with a forefinger. His step was rapid and purposeful as he strode down the corridor and pushed through the double doors, his narrowed eyes following the tall figure of Mary Owen as she pushed her way through the crowd of reporters and photographershead down, one hand up in a desperate attempt to shield her face from the pitiless eyes of the television cameras.
The media horde had caught Mary unprepared. She hadnt even thought about the possibility of-Oh God, television cameras!
But she should have known, she realized, now that it was too late. Here was the son of a national political figure murdered in the classic tradition of the Old Westa young female suspect and some lurid sexual innuendos thrown in-all the ingredients of a media circus.