The Hero's Son. Amanda Stevens

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СКАЧАТЬ “And I’m sure no stone will be left unturned.”

      He flipped his notebook closed and put it away. “You don’t like cops much, do you?”

      “Whatever gave you that idea?”

      An ironic smile touched his lips. “Your article, for one thing.”

      “Then you did read it.”

      “Oh, I read it, all right.”

      “And what did you think?”

      It was his turn to shrug. “I guess it made me wonder what it is you really want.”

      “That’s easy,” Valerie told him. “I want justice.”

      “For whom?”

      “Cletus Brown.”

      He looked at her in disgust. “Cletus Brown kidnapped and murdered a three-year-old boy. Justice was served when my father arrested him. Justice was served when Brown was convicted by a jury of his peers and the judge sentenced him to life in prison without parole.”

      “The evidence against him was all circumstantial,” Valerie said.

      “Circumstantial or not, it was pretty convincing as I recall. His own brother-in-law testified against him.”

      “Yes, because he hated him,” Valerie blurted. Then, when she saw Brant looking at her curiously, she tempered her words. “It was no secret. The two of them didn’t get along. Odell Campbell worked for the Kingsleys as a chauffeur, and he used to throw Cletus Brown some repair work occasionally, but only because Cletus was married to his sister. He said so under oath. He claimed Cletus had been around a few days before the kidnapping, wanting to borrow money, then asking all kinds of questions about the big fund-raiser Iris Kingsley was throwing for her son, wanting to know about the mansion’s security and all that. But it was always his word against Cletus’s. No one else heard the conversation.”

      “But why would he lie?” Brant challenged. “Why would he want to send his own sister’s husband to prison?”

      He was still looking at her strangely, and Valerie realized how close she’d come to blowing her cover. She would have to be a lot more careful from now on, especially around Brant Colter. She couldn’t afford to arouse his suspicions any more than they already were.

      “Two reasons,” she forced herself to say evenly. “He never thought Cletus was good enough for his sister, and since she wouldn’t divorce him, this was a good way to get rid of him.”

      A dark brow lifted in skepticism. “And the other reason?”

      “He was paid to lie. He quit his job with the Kingsleys several months after Cletus Brown was convicted and sent to prison. He turned up driving a new car, wearing new clothes, apparently having money to burn. Where did he get it?”

      Brant frowned. “How do you know all this?”

      “I’m a reporter. I’m paid to dig up this kind of information. Just like cops are—or should be.”

      Their gazes clashed again, and beyond the icy surface, Valerie saw smoldering animosity in Brant’s dark eyes. Animosity and something else that made her wonder how she could ever have thought him without emotion.

      “What about the ransom money that was found in the trunk of Cletus Brown’s car?” he demanded. “That’s hardly circumstantial.”

      Valerie folded her arms across her chest. “Why would someone smart enough to kidnap one of the Kingsley twins from his room while an important fund-raiser was going on downstairs be stupid enough to leave fifteen thousand dollars of the ransom money in the trunk of his own car? And what happened to the other four hundred and eighty-five thousand? It never turned up.

      “Your father was the only one who knew about that money in Cletus Brown’s car. According to his testimony, he received an anonymous tip that led him to Cletus Brown, but the fact was, the two of them already knew each other.” Valerie saw surprise flash in Brant’s dark eyes before he could hide it, and she smiled in satisfaction. “You didn’t know that, did you?”

      “Cletus Brown had a prior,” Brant said. “My father had arrested him before.”

      It was Valerie’s turn to be surprised. “You knew about that?”

      “It was a guess,” he admitted. “But I’m right, aren’t I? That’s why he was a suspect to begin with.”

      Valerie nodded grudgingly. “He was arrested for petty theft a few months before the kidnapping. He stole ten dollars from the cash register in a gas station to buy his daughter a birthday present. He’d gone in trying to find work. He was desperate.”

      “Desperation doesn’t justify theft, Ms. Snow.”

      “I didn’t say it did,” she snapped. “I’m just trying to explain his motivation.”

      “Why does this case mean so much to you?” Brant asked suddenly. “You’re obviously very emotional about it. But a thirty-year-old kidnapping is hardly newsworthy.”

      Valerie cursed herself for her lack of control. What was it about Brant Colter that made her want to lash out at him? Made her want to scream at him who she really was and then watch his face register the revelation?

      Would he be surprised? Undoubtedly. Stunned, would be more like it. They would all be shocked, and not a little horrified, to learn that Cletus Brown’s daughter was living among them.

      She took a long breath, giving herself a moment to regain her composure. “Anything involving the Kingsleys is always news, and besides, the kidnapping never goes away. Just like the Lindbergh case, people are still fascinated by the story, and everyone has his or her own theory as to what happened back then. Me, I think an innocent man was sent to prison. I think Cletus Brown was framed.”

      “You’re forgetting one little thing, aren’t you?” Brant asked impatiently. “Where was the motive? What did my father and the others have to gain by framing Cletus Brown?”

      Valerie shrugged. “I explained all that in the article. They’d been humiliated by the press and by the FBI. They’d already botched the ransom drop, and the local media crucified them. The only way to redeem themselves was to make an arrest. And don’t forget,” she added. “Whoever solved that case would become an instant hero. His career and reputation would be made.”

      “So where and when did Cletus Brown come into the picture? Did they just pull his name from a hat?” Brant asked facetiously.

      “He fit the profile,” Valerie said. “He’d been out of work for months. His family was practically destitute, and he and his wife were having problems. And he had a record. But most important of all, he had a tie to the Kingsleys through his brother-in-law, who was more than willing to testify against him.”

      “Well, I have to say,” Brant said with something that might have been grudging admiration, “you appear to have thought this out fairly well. There’s only one problem with your theory. You have no proof.”

      Valerie looked up at him. “Not yet.”

      “Meaning?”

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