she joked. She then explained what little she'd actually understood from Richard's cryptic and frustrated remarks at their last conversation. But now Sharpe had lived up to his name in playing along with her sudden, out-of-the-blue call asking him to impersonate Fischer, the FBI's top cop. His ranting had covered his British accent well enough for the likes of Mrs. Agnes Dornan, and he'd wisely not turned on the camera component of his phone.
Jessica and Darwin were soon seated across from one another in a clean, well-lit mountainside restaurant overlooking a bay filled with rental boats and pleasure craft. Life floating by. People enjoying a leisure that Jessica had begun to wonder more and more about. She couldn't recall the day when she had not carried the badge of FBI M.E., even on holiday.
“See why Robert ran here from Milwaukee. Came as far away as the continent would take him. Beautiful place. All this open country, fresh air, clean water, fishing, hiking, hunting. He taught himself all those things, you know?”
“Now he's imprisoned on death row.”
“Yeah…” Darwin dropped his gaze. “Yeah… could've just as easily have stayed in goddamn Milwaukee for all that he's accomplished.” He laughed only dully.
She tried to cheer him. “We'll convince the governor. We have to.”
“Yeah, what choice otherwise? Break Robert out of a maximum-security prison?”
“Hope it doesn't come to that.”
They ordered salmon steaks. When in Rome, she joked. “This is salmon country.”
She lifted her glass, toasting to their successful mission and then sipped her white merlot while Darwin lifted and drank his Guinness beer.
“I don't like this waiting.”
“I know. It's hard for me, so it must be excruciating for you.”
“It's like all the time is bleeding out, like Robert's blood is being drained with each second. People want his blood, Jess. My blood.”
“We're going to beat this thing, Darwin. Trust me.”
“Geez, all this time, and I haven't so much as thanked you… all the trouble you've gone to, you and Sharpe.”
“Not at all… not at all. Why don't you tell me more about Robert?”
The waiter arrived with their meals. After the clatter of dishware and a few bites, Darwin said, “My brother, Robert and I, we had things rough for the first few years of our lives. He's older than me by almost two years. His mother left him to get away from our father. Our father takes up with another woman, my mother. She follows suit. My father was a compulsive gambler and an alcoholic and not a happy-go-lucky one, I can tell you, but a mean drunk.”
“I'm sorry to hear that.”
Darwin dropped his gaze. “It was like living with a Satanic Incredible Hulk, who might come through the door anytime. Now Robert… he did what he could to protect me all those years, and then when something really major happened, we were taken off by Family and Child Welfare Services.”
“This was where?”
“Chicago. South Side. I was soon adopted by the people who raised me as their own, but Robert stayed in the system until he was sixteen, bouncing in and out of foster homes only to return. He disappeared after that-got on a bus… ran.”
“And you lost touch?”
“Years went by, yeah. Then I read about him in the FBI bulletins, and I see him on CNN for murdering his wife.”
“But if you haven't seen or heard from him in all those years, how could you know he was innocent?”
“I didn't, not until I visited him in jail. Since we had different names, I arranged it by claiming to be investigating the Louisa Childe killing in Millbrook. I'd done my homework before seeing him. Oregon authorities bought my story, and I had clearance to see and interview Towne on the basis of my FBI status. They thought-”
“You were doing research… behavioral-science aspect of his case.”
“Exactly. Then I get back home to Milwaukee, and damned if a third woman hasn't been killed in a like manner.”
“Weird coincidence all right.”
“It was so close to home this time, I thought anyone looking at it from the outside might conclude that I had something to do with Joyce Olsen's killing just to clear my brother's name. You know, throw up a red herring, a flare.”
“To make it appear the killer's still on the loose.”
“That's when I got a notion. You see, I had read your book, so I decided to get you to come and take a look at what the police had in Milwaukee.”
She ate from her salmon dinner. She drank more wine, not knowing what to say.
“Tomorrow we can go out to the prison and see Rob. I know when you meet him, you'll know he's incapable of what they're wanting to execute him for. He's just too gentle.”
“Even though your father has a history of violence and Robert didn't have the stable home you had, Darwin? Can you be so sure?”
“Yes, I have an absolute faith in Robert.”
“You just remember the older brother who threw himself between you and an abusive father.”
“No… no. I've gotten to know him. I tell you, he's innocent.”
She breathed deeply and nodded. “I trust your instincts, Darwin. I'm working under the assumption you are right on and keenly attuned to the facts here.”
“Will you come with me to the prison tomorrow? Regardless of how it goes with the governor tonight? Will you meet Robert?”
“Yes, I will, but don't we have to make petition to see him at this late date?”
“We're FBI. Besides, tomorrow I go see him as his only living relative.”
“I see.” She lifted her wineglass to him, and he lifted his beer in toast. “To success with the governor tonight.”
“To success.”
With dinner completed, they pushed from the table in the restaurant and bags in hand, they walked across the room. It felt as if every eye in the place followed them, curious and wondering if one or both had stepped from the pages of some tabloid or Hollywood gossip magazine. They checked in and located their rooms, wanting to settle in for the calm before the storm, before meeting J.J. Hughes, the single-most important man of the hour.
“I'm going to attempt a brief nap,” Jessica told Darwin as they reached her room.
“Jet lag kicking in?”
“That and ordinary fatigue. Wake me when it's time.”
“Will do. I'm not likely to sleep.”
“Perhaps you ought to. We need to be clearheaded when we see the man. Now that he's given us the slip the first go-round, I suspect he really doesn't want to talk to anyone about Towne's pending execution.”
“I know you're right, but still… don't think I can sleep. Catch the news… see what's what on CNN.”
Jessica unlocked her door and tossed her bags inside. They had booked adjoining rooms for the duration. “I have a feeling this could drag on.”
As Darwin followed suit, unlocking his door, he asked, “So, when's Sharpe going to get on a plane for here with some physical evidence?”
“I'll let you know the minute I know. I imagine he's about ready to shoot someone in Minnesota by now.”
A couple passed by staring unabashedly at them. The eyes of the couple were as large as plate-glass windows, and desperate to follow their movements.
“You get the sense we've stepped back in time?” she asked. “To a kind of puritanical period?”
“Welcome to Portland, Dr. Coran. I tell you it's a major cause why Robert was so quickly condemned, she being a white woman.”
