The Sleeping Beauty Killer

43

As Ryan questioned Jason Gardner, Laurie’s gaze bounced between the live conversation and the screen feed beside the cameraman, hoping that the televised version would somehow be better than reality. When she caught the cameraman’s worried expression, she knew there’d be no such luck.

Jerry leaned down to whisper in her ear. “It’s like the two of them are having a contest to see who can talk faster. I can’t tell who’s more nervous. And what’s up with those note cards? Even if we zoom in to crop Ryan’s hands in post-production, his eyes will be downcast the whole time.”

“Cut,” Laurie called out. “Hey, I’m sorry, guys. This is going great, but we’ve got a lighting issue. Too much glare off the chandeliers. It’ll just be a few minutes to adjust, okay?” She signaled for Ryan to follow her out to the hallway. Once they were alone, she held out a palm. “Give them to me. The note cards, all of them.”

“Laurie-”

“I’m serious. You don’t need them. We’ve gone over everything backwards and forwards.” She was no fan of Ryan, but his résumé was undeniable. He was never going to be Alex, but he could certainly be better than what she’d just seen in front of the camera. “This isn’t a Supreme Court brief. There’s no judge here. The judge is the audience. They need to trust you, and that won’t happen if you make them uncomfortable.”

“But I’ve got all my questions here-”

“No,” she said, snatching the cards from his hand. “You have them in that Harvard-trained mind of yours. Tell me five things we want to know about Jason Gardner.”

He looked at her, clearly frustrated. “Pretend I’m Professor Bigshot and just called on you in a packed lecture hall. Quick: five things.”

He rattled off five points as quickly as if he were reciting the alphabet. She was impressed.

“There, you’re ready.”

Five minutes into the next session, Ryan was walking Jason through his time line the night of the gala. His body language was comfortable and his confidence seemed to grow by the second. Laurie could feel her fists begin to unclench.

According to Jason, he spoke to Casey only briefly after he first arrived at the gala at about eight-thirty. At that point, she seemed as if she might have enjoyed a glass of wine or two, but did not appear impaired and did not complain of any kind of illness. Jason noticed Casey leave with Hunter, but stayed with his co-workers until the end of the party, then went home alone. By the time Ryan wrapped up the time line, he had already met one of his five goals for Jason’s session: he had established that Jason had no alibi for the time of Hunter’s murder.

“Now, you said your employer had bought a table at the gala, correct?”

“That’s right. Taking a table is one way for a firm to support a charitable cause.”

“And your firm had only one table?”

“Yes, as far as I recall.”

“That’s eight seats. But your firm had more than a hundred financial analysts, not to mention support staff and other personnel. So how does the firm determine who attends any given event? Do they force you to go?”

“Oh no. It was a volunteer type situation.”

“So you knew in advance that you were attending a gala to benefit the Raleigh Foundation?” Ryan asked.

“Of course.”

“Then you certainly would have anticipated bumping into your ex-girlfriend and her fiancé, Hunter Raleigh.”

Jason finally seemed to realize where the questions were heading, but it was too late to avoid the obvious implication. “Yes, I suppose that’s right.”

“Here’s what confuses me, Jason. Your book, My Days with Crazy Casey, describes a woman and a relationship that-well, I think the title says it all. If you believed Casey was volatile to the point of insanity, why would you purposefully show up at a gala that her fiancé’s family was hosting?”

“Well, I thought it would be a nice gesture.”

“So you were still on good terms with her?”

He shrugged.

“Even though, as you wrote in your book, you bolted yourself in your apartment bathroom one time because you were afraid that she was going to attack you physically?”

“I’m not sure afraid is the right word.”

“Should we get a copy of your book? I believe your exact words were that you feared for your life and wished you’d hidden the kitchen knives.”

“That might have been an exaggeration. Obviously, the publisher wants to sell books.”

Ryan was finding a rhythm. He had just nailed down a second point: Jason’s book was not the same thing as testimony under oath.

“Speaking of your book, it was published by Arden Publishing. I believe your editor was a woman named Holly Bloom. Can I ask how you came to be published by Arden?”

“What do you mean? I had an agent and he helped me.”

“Right. But did the agent send the book around to all the New York houses, or did he go straight to Ms. Bloom?”

“I’m not really sure. You’d have to ask him. His name’s Nathan Kramer.”

Laurie recognized the name as the same agent who had negotiated the deal for James Raleigh’s upcoming memoir, also to be published by Holly Bloom with Arden. Ryan confronted Jason with those coincidences. “Jason, isn’t it true that General Raleigh helped you obtain the publishing deal for the extremely negative book you wrote about Casey?”

Jason’s eyes darted around the ballroom, searching for guidance. Ryan leaned forward, and Laurie braced herself for whatever sarcastic, alienating comment was going to come out of his mouth.

Instead, Ryan placed a comforting hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Hey, it makes perfect sense. The General’s son had been murdered. You were Casey’s ex. Once he realized you had a story to tell, why wouldn’t he help you? It was a win-win.”

“That’s right,” Jason said nervously. “We both wanted the truth out there.”

A third point was on the board: Jason’s book had General Raleigh’s fingerprints all over it.

“But then some things got exaggerated along the way,” Ryan added.

“Right.”

“Jason, I want to thank you for being so forthcoming today. I just want to ask one more question that could really help us make sense of something Casey and her family have told us. We won’t have a he-said, they-said scenario. I think we all know that love can be complicated. Relationships are on and off. One day, we’re head over heels, the next we’re full of resentment. Am I right?”

Ryan actually had his arm around Jason now, like old buddies telling war stories from the dating world.

“You’re telling me,” Jason said. By now, he was agreeing with everything Ryan said.

“Okay, so I just want you to come clean about one last thing. You still loved Casey, didn’t you? In fact, that’s why you went to the gala that night. She didn’t think you should be in contact anymore now that she was engaged. So you went to the gala to ask her one last time to take you back.”

Jason said nothing. Ryan pushed. “Casey already told us. Her cousin, Angela, did, too.”

“Yes, okay. It’s like you said: it was complicated. We were toxic for each other, until we weren’t, and then it felt like magic. Our relationship was crazy. We were crazy.” Ryan had just nailed down his fourth point, and the word choice couldn’t have been better. “I thought I’d try one last time-a grand gesture to declare my love, and if she chose Hunter, I’d let her go.”

“So you surprised her by going to the gala and poured your heart out to her. But she didn’t take you back, did she?”

He shook his head. “She said she finally understood how love should feel. That it didn’t have to be difficult. I’ll never forget: she said Hunter ‘felt like home.’ ”

“And how did that make you feel? That you made her crazy, and he felt like home?”

Jason suddenly jerked away from his new friend. “Wait. You don’t think-”

“I’m just asking questions, Jason.”

“Look, I told you everything. My career wasn’t going as planned, and I was tight on money. I accepted the Raleigh family’s offer to help me get a book deal. We were all tired of Casey playing Little Miss Innocent. But if you think I killed Hunter and framed her, then maybe you’re the one who’s crazy. I’m calling a lawyer. You can’t air this,” he stammered, pulling off the microphone from his lapel.

The second Jason left the ballroom Laurie raised both hands and gave Ryan a round of applause. “Not bad for the new kid.”

He took a mock bow.

Four facts were now established: Jason had still loved Casey, Jason’s book was an exaggeration, arranged by Hunter’s father, and Jason had no alibi. But had Jason murdered Hunter Raleigh? They still didn’t have an answer to Ryan’s fifth question, but they were making progress.

And Ryan might not be Alex, but he had stepped up to the plate when it mattered.

“Laurie,” he said while the crew took a break, “thank you for the pep talk. You were right. I just needed to be myself. I have the best instincts. Like they say, behind every great man is a woman.”

She could feel her newfound goodwill toward him blow away, like air from a balloon. More like behind every cocky man is a woman rolling her eyes, she thought.

Grace and Jerry were walking quickly toward them, looking excited. “Gabrielle Lawson’s here,” Grace announced.

“And you will not believe what she is wearing,” Jerry said. “It’s a dream come true.”

Laurie had instructed the show’s participants that business attire would be appropriate for filming, but Gabrielle Lawson apparently played by her own wardrobe rules. It was only three-thirty in the afternoon, but she arrived in a sequined ivory gown, her hair and makeup ready for a nonexistent red carpet. Something about the gown was familiar.

As Laurie was thanking Gabrielle for coming, she realized where she’d seen the dress before. “Gabrielle, is that the same gown you wore to the gala fifteen years ago?”

“It sure is,” she gushed. “I knew someday it would have historical importance. I was wearing it the last time I saw Hunter. I’ve preserved it in a bag for the day the Smithsonian calls. It still fits like a glove, too.”

While Jerry got Gabrielle mic’ed up, Grace whispered in Laurie’s ear. “I know I said Casey has crazy eyes, but this lady takes the cake. Let me know if you need me to call the men with the straight-jackets and butterfly nets.”