A Score to Settle by Kara Lennox Read Free Book Online

because it seemed a bit too chummy. Too intimate, given their adversarial relationship.
    But it seemed positively Victorian to keep calling him Mr. Logan.
    As soon as she could do so politely, she eased her hand away from the warmth of his. His handshake absolutely oozed confidence. How did he do that? And what did hers communicate? Shivering nerves?
    “How was the traffic?” she asked, because that was what everyone in Houston asked first thing in any meeting.
    “I wasn’t really paying attention,” he admitted. “I was going over my notes. But I guess it was okay. We got here quickly.”
    Of course he didn’t have to concern himself with mundane matters like traffic. He had a chauffeur and a limousine the size of a battleship. She tried to imagine living like him—hot and cold running servants, mostly hot from what she’d seen—a three-story mansion, polo ponies and tennis courts. She couldn’t even wrap her mind around it. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to not work like a dog every day, watch her spending, save for retirement.
    She resented the ease of his life. Yeah, six years on death row wouldn’t have been a picnic. But he’d been convicted of murder. And here he was, flaunting his wealth and dabbling in “charitable” work, helping others like himself escape retribution for their crimes.
    “So,” she said crisply, imagining a clear shell around her that would make her immune to the handsome billionaire’s physical proximity. “The driver can’t hear us, can he?” She glanced at the glass partition that separated the driver from the passenger seating.
    “Not a word. We could scream at the tops of our lungs and he wouldn’t hear us.”
    That thought didn’t particularly cheer her.
    “Yes, well. Since I called this meeting, and we have limited time, let’s get started.”
    “All right. Tell me about Theresa.”
    That was a good place to start. “She was credible. Sincere. My investigation leaves me certain she is the same Theresa who made the 9-1-1 call, bringing the police to El Toreador. And her statement about seeing a stranger in the restaurant kitchen sounds plausible.”
    “Only plausible? You don’t think it rings with truth?”
    “Plausible,” she said firmly.
    Daniel’s eyes almost twinkled as he listened attentively with his whole body. She liked that about him, even if she disapproved of everything else. So many people—men especially—might appear to be listening, but they were actually waiting for their turn to speak.
    “I’m very glad to hear you say that,” he said. “Can you show her mug shots? Have her work with a sketch artist? I have an artist on call for Project Justice that does excellent work.”
    Now came the hard part. “As I’ve explained before, one eyewitness statement, delivered all these years after the crime, will not trump the physical evidence. All Theresa gave me was a vague description. She saw an unfamiliar man in the kitchen talking to the victim. Minutes later, as she was bussing tables, she heard a loud crash in the kitchen and went to investigate. She found the victim dead.”
    “But she gave some description, right? Male Caucasian in his thirties, medium build…”
    “Wearing a baseball cap, so she couldn’t even get a hair color. It’s too general.”
    “But she told you it was positively not Christopher Gables. Correct?”
    “Yes,” Jamie admitted. “But if we press her for details at this point…well, it’s easy for the mind to play tricks. Her subconscious could provide details just to please me.”
    Daniel opened his mouth to object, but she cut him off.
    “Not that she would deceive me on purpose, but memory is a strange and unreliable beast. Considering your experience with Project Justice, I’m sure you understand that.”
    Daniel seemed to deflate slightly. “Still, it seems likely to me that if this stranger was the last person seen talking to Frank before he died, he is a more probable suspect than