Evidence of Guilt by Jonnie Jacobs Page A

about her husband?"
    "She didn't go on about him, if that's what you mean, the way some people do after a marriage has gone south. But she'd mention him now and then, in passing. His name was Jerry. Jerk-head Jerry was how she referred to him. To tell the truth, I don't think she had a lot of respect for men, period."
    "I understand she was engaged, though, to Philip Stockman."
    Caroline gave a derisive laugh. "Some days she was, some days she wasn't. You could say she had mixed feelings about it."
    "Any idea why?"
    She shrugged. "I guess one bad marriage is enough to make you gun-shy."
    I nodded. I'd had the bad part without the marriage and it had certainly made me gun-shy. "Did she ever mention Wes Harding?"
    "No. Why?"
    "I was wondering if they'd crossed paths."
    Caroline shook her head. "I don't recall her mentioning him. Like I said, though, we didn't get into a lot of personal stuff."
    Despite the disclaimer, it seemed to me that Caroline knew a fair amount about Lisa.
    The only time we talked was at work. Duane didn't like me hanging around with ..." Caroline looked embarrassed. Svith 'her type,' was how he put it."
    I raised a brow. "Her type?"
    "You know, because she was divorced. Duane was afraid it might rub off or something." The baby had fallen asleep.
    Caroline adjusted her blouse, then leaned back against the chair. She seemed uncertain what she wanted to say next. "Lisa talked about taking a class over at the community college. She wanted me to go too so we could commute together. It was only one evening a week, but Duane about had a hemorrhage."
    "So you didn't." My response was blunter than I'd intended, but Caroline didn't pick up on it.
    Her voice was flat. "By that time Lisa and I weren't such good friends anyway. We both had our own lives, you know. Our own interests." She let her gaze grow distant.
    Jeremy had finished his cookies. He climbed off the stool and put his head in his mother's lap. She ran her fingers through his honey-brown hair.
    "I've got to put the kids down for their naps now."
    I carried Jeremy's juice cup back to the sink. "Thanks for talking to me."
    "I hope it helped."

6
    It was close to four o'clock when I pulled into a parking space in front of the county jail. I'd stopped at the grocery along the way to buy dog food and toothpaste, then driven the four-lane highway to Hadley at well under the speed limit, which said something about my level of enthusiasm for meeting with Wes.
    True to his word, Sam had taken care of the necessary approvals. I showed my ID to the sergeant at the desk, signed my name, paraded through a metal detector and found myself upstairs in the spartan, windowless attorney's room before I'd had a chance to catch my breath. I was standing, silently practicing my introductory remarks, when the guard brought Wes to the door.
    "Handcuffs off or on?" the guard asked, addressing me.
    In truth I'd have been more comfortable with them on. That was not the way to gain a client's confidence, however. "Off," I said, without meeting either man's eyes.
    The guard grunted. "I'll be outside if you need me." He closed the door and snapped the lock.
    Wes eased himself into the nearest chair. He was shorter than I expected, maybe 5'10, broad-shouldered and solidly built. His hair was dark and glossy, the way I remembered it, but now dusted lightly across the crown with silver. His skin was smooth and unwrinkled, and seemed swarthier than it had in his youth. Noting the broad cheekbones and deep-set eyes, it struck me for the first time that Wes might have a trace of Hispanic blood in his ancestry.
    He tilted his head and gave me a long look. "Well, well, Ms. Attorney. I take it you're the newest hired gun on my defense team."
    I took a seat opposite him, the narrow table between us. "I'm Kali O'Brien," I said, opening my notepad. "I'll be working on your defense with Sam Morrison. But only if that's the way you want it."
    " 'The way I want it,' " he mimicked. "Jesus, that's a