had at least one juror in his pocket. Now he probably had two.
So far, there had only been the mention of Kinellen’s ex-wife looking into the Reardon murder case, Weeks mused, but if anything actually went forward with it, he knew it could prove awkward for him. Especially if Haskell got wind of it. It might occur to him that he had another way to sweeten any deal he was trying to make with the prosecution.
34
Late that afternoon, Geoff Dorso’s secretary buzzed him on the intercom. “Miss Taylor is here,” she said. “I told her I was sure you couldn’t see her without an appointment. She said it will only take a few minutes and that it’s important.”
For Beth Taylor to just show up without calling first, it had to be important. “It’s okay,” Geoff said. “Send her in.”
His pulse quickened as he waited. He prayed that she wasn’t there to tell him that something had happened to Skip Reardon’s mother. Mrs. Reardon had had a heart attack shortly after Skip’s conviction and another one five years ago. She had managed to bounce back from both, declaring that there was no way on earth that she was going to die while her son was still in prison for a crime he didn’t commit.
She wrote Skip every day-cheery, happy letters, full of plans for his future. On a recent visit to the prison, Geoff had listened as Skip read him an excerpt from one he had received that day: “At mass this morning, I reminded God that while all things come to him who waits, we’ve waited long enough. And you know, Skip, the most wonderful feeling came over me. It was almost as though I was hearing in my mind a voice saying, ‘not much longer.’”
Skip had laughed wryly. “You know, Geoff, when I read this, I almost believed it.”
When his secretary escorted Beth into his office, Geoff came around his desk and kissed her affectionately. Whenever he saw her, the same thought always flashed immediately into his mind:
What a different life Skip would have had if he had married Beth Taylor and never met Suzanne.
Beth was Skip’s age, almost forty now, about five feet six, a comfortable size 12, with short, wavy brown hair, lively brown eyes and a face that radiated intelligence and warmth. She had been a teacher when she and Skip were dating fifteen years ago. Since then she had earned her master’s degree and now worked as a guidance counselor in a nearby school.
By her expression today it was obvious she was deeply troubled. Indicating a comfortable seating area at the end of the room, Geoff said, “I know they made a fresh pot of coffee half an hour ago. How about it?”
Her smile came and went. “I’d like that.”
He studied her expression as they made casual chatter and he poured them both some coffee. She looked worried rather than grief-stricken. He was now sure nothing had happened to Mrs. Reardon. Then another possibility occurred to him. Good God, has Beth met someone she’s interested in and doesn’t know how to tell Skip? He knew that such a thing might happen-perhaps even should happen-but he knew that it would be rough on Skip.
As soon as they were settled, Beth came directly to the point. “Geoff, I talked to Skip on the phone last night. He sounds so terribly depressed. I’m really worried. You know how much talk there is about cutting off repeated appeals from convicted murderers. Skip has practically been kept alive on the hope that someday one of the appeals will be upheld. If he ever gives up that hope completely-I know him, he’ll want to die. He told me about that assistant prosecutor visiting him. He’s sure she doesn’t believe him.”
“Do you think he’s becoming suicidal?” Geoff asked quickly. “If so, we have to do something about it. As a model prisoner, he’s getting more privileges. I should warn the warden.”
“No, no! Don’t even think about reporting that!” Beth cried. “I don’t mean he’d do anything to himself now. He knows he’d be killing his mother too. I just…” She threw out her hands in a helpless gesture. “Geoff,” she burst out, “is there any hope I can give him? Or maybe I’m asking if you realistically believe you’ll find grounds to file a new appeal.”
If this were a week ago, Geoff thought, I’d have had to tell her that I’ve gone over every inch of this case and I can’t find even a suggestion of new grounds. Kerry McGrath’s call, however, had made the difference.
Careful not to sound overly encouraging, he told Beth about the two women Kerry McGrath had seen in Dr. Smith’s office and of Kerry’s growing interest in the case. As he watched the radiant hope grow on Beth’s face, he prayed that he was not leading her and Skip down a path that would ultimately prove to be another dead end.
Beth’s eyes were filling with tears. “Then Kerry McGrath still is looking into the case?”
“Very definitely. She’s quite something, Beth.” As Geoff heard himself saying those words, he was visualizing Kerry; the way she tucked a lock of blond hair behind her ear as she was concentrating, the wistful look in her eyes when she talked about her father, her trim, slender body, her rueful, self-deprecating smile when Bob Kinellen’s name came up, the joyful pride that emanated from her when she talked about her daughter.
He was hearing her slightly husky voice and seeing the almost shy smile she gave him when he had taken the key and opened the door for her. It was obvious to him that after her father’s death, no one had ever taken care of Kerry.
“Geoff, if there are grounds for an appeal, do you think we made a mistake last time by not telling about me?”
Beth’s question yanked him back to the present. She was referring to one aspect of the case that had never come out in court. Just prior to Suzanne Reardon’s death, Skip and Beth had started to see each other again. A few weeks earlier, they had bumped into each other, and Skip had insisted on taking her to lunch. They had ended up talking for hours, and he had confessed to her how unhappy he was and how much he regretted their breakup. “I made a stupid mistake,” he had told her, “but for what it’s worth, it’s not going to last much longer. I’ve been married to Suzanne for four years, and for at least three of them I’ve been wondering how I ever let you go.”
On the night Suzanne died, Beth and Skip were scheduled to have dinner together. She had had to cancel at the last minute, however, and it was then that Skip had gone home to find Suzanne arranging the roses.
At the time of the trial, Geoff had agreed with Skip’s chief counsel, Tim Farrell, that to put Beth on the stand was a double-edged sword. The prosecution no doubt would try to make it seem that in addition to avoiding the expense of a divorce, Skip Reardon had another compelling reason for killing his wife.
On the other hand, Beth’s testimony might have been effective in dispelling Dr. Smith’s contention that Skip was insanely jealous of Suzanne.
Until Kerry had told him about Dr. Smith, and about the look-alikes, Geoff had been sure that they had made the right decision. Now he was less sure. He looked squarely at Beth. “I didn’t tell Kerry about you yet. But now I want her to meet you, and to hear your story. If we have any chance at all for a new and successful appeal, all the cards have to be on the table.”
35 Tuesday, October 31st
When she was ready to leave the house for her early morning appointment with Dr. Smith, Kerry shook wake a protesting Robin. “Come on, Rob,” she urged. “You’re always telling me I treat you like a baby.” “You do,” Robin mumbled.
“All right. I’m giving you a chance to prove your independence. I want you to get up now and get dressed, Otherwise you’ll fall asleep again. Mrs. Weiser will phone at seven to be sure you didn’t let yourself fall back asleep. I left cereal and juice out. Make certain the door is locked when you leave for school.”
Robin yawned and closed her eyes.
“Rob, please.”
“Okay.” With a sigh Robin swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her hair fell forward over her face as she rubbed her eyes.
