apartment on that day and had explained the broken cup. Furthermore, the police couldn’t possibly have determined with any certainty at that early stage who indeed was the last person to see the victim alive and, in summary, the state’s proof of guilt wasn’t sufficiently evident to deny bail.
Moran informed the court that the defendant was new in town and had insufficient ties to the community to assure future court appearances.
The judge remanded the accused to police custody.
As Goddard escorted Ray from the courtroom, Kagan asked him, “Did you have a chance to dump the calls on my client’s phone and get the source of that text? Someone directed him to Towson’s apartment mere hours before the killing.”
Goddard moved closer before answering, “Off-the-record, Jerry, that text originated from an Internet connection at the InnTowner Motel.”
Reid jumped in, “Yes! That’s where we were, the InnTowner! That proves what I told you. It was Loraine. She wouldn’t use her own phone it could be traced. She knew I was eager to get in touch with Tammy.”
The detective was willing to continue the subject since Kagan wasn’t objecting. “Or did you send yourself the text from the motel before you left?”
Ray had no immediate answer for that theory. Then he remembered. “What about this? Loraine gave me Tammy’s home phone number that is unlisted. I wrote it on a motel pad. The police took it from me when I was booked, so you have it. It proves Loraine gave me Tammy’s number.”
“Yes, we have the note, but it doesn’t prove where you got the number.”
“But I was in a motel room. How else could I obtain an unlisted number?”
“Realtors don’t have unlisted numbers. You guys are going to have to do better than that.” Goddard knew Kagan would attempt the standard maneuvers. But in the end, Reid would remain essentially helpless in jail while the State Attorney’s Office used their considerable resources to prepare a case against him.
Later that evening, Ray snapped out of his miserable mood when the jail officer brought his supper tray and told him some woman came in to see him that afternoon. Exciting news for a lonely guy facing his third night in the lockup.
“Too bad it was after visiting hours,” the officer said.
“Visitors, I can have visitors?”
“Yeah, you’ll be cuffed while you’re out of the cell, but sure, we take you up to the visiting room.”
A visitor would be comforting and he could use some of that. But, the visitor most likely would be some official with a form to fill out or the bearer of more bad news. “Well, who was it? What did she look like?”
“Don’t know, wasn’t there, but some guy upstairs said she was a looker.”
“A young looker or an old looker?”
“Didn’t say.”
His first visitor. Who would want to visit the town pariah? What he needed was a magical visitor, young or old, that could get him out of there. A young looker described Tammy who thought he was a nut, so it wouldn’t be her. An old looker would be Loraine. He’d love to confront her, but she wouldn’t dare show up.
Who else is there?
Chapter 10
It was Tuesday morning, three days after the murder, and Ray woke up wondering about the woman turned away after visiting hours yesterday. Would she come back? He skipped the breakfast tray except for the coffee and eagerly awaited the jailer. At last, visiting hours. The jailer secured the handcuffs, and escorted him to the visiting room.
She sat on one side of a long steel table in the sparsely furnished room. Against the wall, an officer sat on a high stool and a sergeant was at a small desk positioned at the main door. Of course, Ray recognized her: the friendly stockbroker from the office, the party hostess, the one with short blond hair, Meg—what was her last name?
“Great that you came to see me. So, you bring greetings from the office, I guess.” He was smiling for the first time since being jailed.
“Greetings from only me, I’m afraid. The company regrets ever hearing of you. I hate to tell you, but your boss has the word from upstairs, embarrassment to the corporation must end. You’ll be fired as soon as they can legally cover their butts.”
“They sent you here to tell me that?”
“God, no. I’m on my own. I thought someone should let you know what was happening. Too bad I accidentally got you involved with the murder victim’s ex-wife at my party. Did you notice I never introduced you to Loraine? I never dreamed she’d try to hook up with anyone, especially not you. I told her to bring a friend, but she showed up alone and jumped on you as if you were the last train out of town. She was on the hunt, so she brought out the big guns; tell me her short green dress with that neckline didn’t do a job on you.”
“You should have marked her with skull and crossbones. But none of it was your fault. You didn’t know Towson would be shot, and I didn’t know that I was walking out the door with his ex.”
“All the people at the party saw you two leave, and now they know Loraine slept with the guy who shot her ex. I’m assuming you slept with her—none of my business. When that juicy tidbit filters into the community at large it’s not going to help your case.”
“You’re quite the sales person, aren’t you? You just told me my job and my life are doomed, and I’m sitting here grinning, eager for any more bad news just to hear you talk.”
“I could sell water to a drowning man.”
“Good that you’re so successful at something you like to do. All your buy and sell tickets come across my desk, I know you’re good.”
“Not successful every time. I’ve been working on a personal scheme for about a month now, trying to get a particular idea into a certain guy’s head, but it’s not working. I can’t seem to get the pitch right. He’s ignoring me.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll win him over eventually. You have a marvelous appearance and a dynamite personality. I hope I thanked you at the party for inviting me.”
“Well, you didn’t exactly go on and on about it.” Her mood seemed to change. She shook her head slightly and stood to leave. “Must run, I’m supposed to be out making calls this morning. But I wanted to see you.”
“You’re my only visitor so far. Thanks for coming.”
“Ray, I know you’re innocent, and it’s horrible you’re in this mess. I want you to know there are people who truly like you and are pulling for you. I want to be your friend.”
“Well, I appreciate that.”
“No, you don’t, but you will someday.” She turned and left.
He started to get up when the officer put a hand on his shoulder. “Sit right there, you have another visitor.”
He looked over to see his sister charge through the door. Was that really her? She signed in at the sergeant’s desk and then strode across the room with a briefcase tucked under her arm like a shotgun.
She gave her brother a half-hearted wave and declared, “Okay, I’m here. Geez, orange really isn’t your color. And still wearing those dumb glasses.”
They had known each other as adults and used to see each other a few times a year on holidays and such, invariably at their parent’s house before both died in an auto accident six years ago. Although they both lived in Philadelphia, their last physical contact had been at the funeral. At first, Sandy would occasionally phone him, and twice she invited him to dinner parties, but there was always some conflict and he was never able to make it.
Now in her late twenties, she had changed. This wasn’t the sister he remembered. She seemed sharper,
