blackmailing Nicholas Farrante. And now Tisdale was dead.
Don’t jump to conclusions. The man’s death might not have anything to do with that argument. Tisdale had said he owed a lot of money to some very unsavory people. It wasn’t a huge leap to assume his murder was somehow connected to his gambling debts.
Ree was still trying to convince herself none of this was her concern when the phone rang. She jumped in spite of herself. Normally, she was a calm and levelheaded person, but the news of Tisdale’s death had rattled her.
Still in shock, she lifted the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
“I hope I’m not calling too early. Or coming across too eager.”
“Who is this?”
A pause. “Hayden.”
“Hayden…” She clutched the phone.
“From last night.” He said something under his breath. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
“Of course, I remember you.” He’d pretty much occupied every waking moment until news of Tisdale’s murder had plopped her so unceremoniously back into the real world. “I’m sorry. I’m a little distracted at the moment.” Her gaze went back to the television screen. Thankfully, the photograph was gone and the anchor had moved on to another story.
“Is something wrong?”
“You could say that.”
“Anything I can do?”
The genuine concern in his voice made Ree realize how long it had been since she’d had a confidant. Her mother was still trapped in her bitterness and her father was too busy with his new life. Ree wasn’t sure how it had happened, but at some point between college and grad school all her friends had moved on. And at that moment, she’d never felt more alone.
“Ree?”
“Maybe you can help,” she said. “I think I need some legal advice.”
“Okay. But you do understand I’m not allowed to practice law without a license. Any advice I offer will have to be of the unofficial variety.”
“So long as I can still invoke the attorney-client privilege.”
His voice grew sober. “What’s going on?”
Ree suddenly felt as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. Tears burned her eyes, which made her angry with herself. A man had been murdered. He’d probably left loved ones behind. This was no time for self-pity. “I didn’t tell you everything about that conversation I overheard at the hospital.”
“No?”
“Dr. Farrante was being blackmailed by a man named Jared Tisdale.
He threatened to expose a secret that their families have kept hidden for three generations. Whatever it is, it has something to do with Miss Violet and her mother, Ilsa. I just heard on the news that Tisdale was found shot to death in his home this morning. Maybe it’s just some awful coincidence. Maybe it didn’t have anything to do with Dr. Farrante. But if I go to the police—”
“ If , Ree?”
She dragged trembling fingers through her hair. “Dr. Farrante will know that I overheard that blackmail scheme. If he killed Tisdale, what’s to stop him from coming after me?”
“If Farrante is involved, going to the police could be your best protection,” Hayden said. “And if you don’t tell them what you know, you’re technically impeding an official investigation. Cops don’t like that.”
“I know, but—”
“For all the inroads in forensic science, the best way to establish a reliable timeline is still finding the person or persons who last saw the victim alive. That could be you, Ree. Not to mention the fact that you can provide a motive.”
“I know all that. I guess I just needed to hear someone spell it out for me.”
“I’ll go with you,” he said. “We’ll call it moral support.”
“You’d do that?” She felt pathetic, even asking.
“Just give me a chance to clear up a few things here. I’ll meet you outside police headquarters in half an hour.…”
But he didn’t show. Ree waited for almost forty-five minutes in front of the building on Lockwood before giving up. Then climbing the south-side stairs,