Tuesday’s Child

employment, but young Ryan would not allow it.

“She also said he called her in the dayroom-that’s where the residents can receive phone calls-last week, and told her not to believe anything they were saying about him on television. She said she assured him that she already knew he did none of the things he was being accused of. That’s pretty much all she had to say. Her name is Margaret Tynedale, and she allowed young Ryan to call her Mama Margie while he was in her care. He still calls her that to this day. Oh, one other thing. She said she stayed on at the Spenser mansion until young Ryan turned eighteen and went off to college. Then the Spensers retired her with a very nice pension.”

Patty digested what she’d just heard. “Doesn’t sound like our boy had a very nice childhood.”

“She said something else, too,” Beth interjected, looking at her notes. “Miss Tynedale said from the time she started working for the Spensers until Ryan turned eighteen, the boy’s parents never spent more than twenty-four hours with him during any given year. That’s in a year, Ms. Molnar.”

Bill picked up. “We did a Webcam with a few of his friends, who turned out to be more acquaintances than friends. And all three said Ryan had no close friends-you know, the kind that hang out getting a beer or going to ball games. Always a gentleman, dated but nothing serious. Helped tutor a few students who needed outside help. For free. No one had a bad thing to say about him.”

It was Beth’s turn again. “The same thing at law school. Graduated second in his class, summa cum laude. No family members attended any of his graduations. I verified that with Miss Tynedale, and she said it was absolutely true, but she said that she and the staff always made sure to send cards and a gift.”

Bill shuffled his papers, and said, “When he passed the bar, he applied for a job at the District Attorney’s Office, and they snapped him up. His father was already in Washington by then, and his mother was more distant than ever. The father wanted him to set up a white-shoe firm in the District of Columbia and become a force for politicians. Ryan would have none of it; he wanted to live and work in Georgia. His trust fund kicked in when he was twenty-five. He bought himself a penthouse apartment and a sports car, and sent Miss Tynedale on a two-week Caribbean cruise.”

It was Beth’s turn. “There was never a hint of scandal with Ryan. As far as we could tell, he never made a trip to Washington to see his father. Never. He also, as far as we could tell, never returned to the Spenser mansion, even on holidays. One of his staff said he was a workaholic. He had a few short-lived relationships, nothing serious.”

Bill closed one notebook and opened another. “Though most of his staff do not like the guy, they had to admit that he was a hard-ass but fair. Getting praise or a compliment from him was like pulling teeth. He liked to win, and when he lost, he pored over the transcripts for days, trying to figure out what had gone wrong and whether he could correct it in the future. He was vain as hell, liked publicity, and as everyone knows, was good before the camera. Outside the office, he was a very charismatic guy, and the media loved him.”

Beth leaned back in her chair. “This is the part you really are not going to like. No one knows it but Miss Tynedale and a few board members of a club he started up. He started a camp for underprivileged children. We checked this out six ways to Sunday, and it’s all on the up and up. The camp runs from May till the middle of September. He goes to the camp every weekend unless he’s in the middle of a trial. He does his share, helps cook, gives swimming lessons, is a big brother to all the boys. This is the best part, though. The counselors are all older women, motherly and grandmotherly types who tuck the kids in at night, read stories to them, and generally act as mothers and grandmothers away from home. The kids, I was told, eat it up like they are starved for love and affection. One of the groundskeepers said they’re going to expand the facility, starting in September, when the camp closes.

“Needless to say, no one had a bad word to say about Ryan Spenser. The thing is, this camp is a secret. We both went back to talk to Miss Tynedale and asked her if she knew about it, and she said yes, but Ryan had sworn her to secrecy. She cried when she said she wished she could have been a grandmother to all those lost little children. She also said Ryan took her out there last year, on Memorial Day, so she could see the first batch of kids. She said she loved every minute of that all-day visit and didn’t want to leave. She said Ryan was so good with the kids, had the patience of Job.”

“And that’s all you guys got, just all that smothery good stuff?” Patty asked, outraged that nothing bad was in the report.

There was a definite chill in both investigators’ voices when they said maybe it was because there wasn’t anything bad to find, and Ryan Spenser wasn’t the devil he was being made out to be.

They said the words with such conviction, Patty winced, setting her back on her heels. She had to wonder if maybe the investigators were right. She forced a smile on her face, thanked them, and dismissed both of them. “See if the others need any extra help and pitch in if they do. Leave your reports.”

The chill stayed behind as the two law students left the office. Patty felt lower than a skunk’s belly for a few minutes. She read through the reports, speed-reading natural for her. Then she looked at the clock and realized she had a few minutes until Ryan Spenser was due.

Patty ran down the hall to Kala’s office. She slammed through the doors, and said, “Read all of this before you meet with Spenser, okay? Stall him if you have to but, Kala, you need to read this.”

Kala reared back in the chair with its cracked leather. Her eyes narrowed as her fingers went automatically to the white hibiscus in her hair. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“No, Kala, you are not going to like it.”

Chapter 21

LIKE PATTY, KALA WAS USED TO SPEED-READING. SHE WENT through the investigative report quickly, digesting the gist of it all, then went back and reread what she’d breezed through. If all this was true, and she had no reason to believe it wasn’t, Spenser certainly kept his real persona under wraps. She thought about the picture of the two of them in the ornate frame he’d given her for her retirement party. She wished now that she hadn’t thrown it away. Maybe it was still in the trash basket. She made a mental note to check on it since she wasn’t big on emptying wastepaper baskets.

What to make of this? Spenser had two lives. His personal one and his professional one. Well, most people did. So what? He’d still put Sophie Lee in prison for life without the possibility of parole. That was what So what? meant. The wind taken out of her sails for the moment, Kala got up and walked over to the window. There was no stellar view, just the street and a portion of the small parking lot that carried through to the entrance of the underground parking garage.

Kala turned around and looked at the white hibiscus bloom she’d tossed on her desk. She walked over, picked it up, touched the petals, then dropped it in the wastebasket.

Rarely was Kala unsure about anything, but at that moment she didn’t quite know what to think, or even feel, for that matter. She looked at her watch and walked back to the window. Spenser was late by five minutes. Maybe he was going to be a no-show. Unlikely, but a possibility. She wondered if she’d missed him until Linda poked her head in the door to say that Mr. Spenser was in the waiting room.

With an edge to her voice, Kala said, “Show him in, Linda.”

“He looks different today, Kala. Can’t put my finger on it, but he doesn’t look… I don’t know, maybe cocky is the word I’m looking for. Hey, what happened to your flower?”

The edge was still in Kala’s voice. “Just show him in, okay? Bring us some coffee and sweet rolls if you don’t mind. Make the plate look pretty.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Linda said smartly, not understanding what was going on. Sounded like a party, and everyone was going to make nice.

Kala was still standing by the window and remained there until Linda opened the door to usher Ryan Spenser into the room.

The two attorneys smiled at one another and shook hands. Kala motioned to a cozy seating corner. “I guess we both know why you’re here today, Ryan. This might be the mother I’m not in me, but are you okay?”

“No, actually, I’m not okay. Listen, how do you feel about going somewhere with me for a half hour or so? I’d like to buy you a cup of coffee. I want to talk to you about something, but not here.” Before Kala could respond, Spenser withdrew a white envelope from inside his jacket pocket. He laid it on the coffee table that separated the