He sits next to me on the bench. Butterscotch wanders off to chase the butterflies hovering around the flowerbeds. “How’s the protester situation going? Are they still a problem?”
“There’re probably fifteen or so assholes who aren’t letting up.”
The rest of the protesters seem to have grown bored of harassing Jess now that the reporters have left Maple Ridge. Thank Christ for that.
Garrett’s forehead scrunches into a frown. He takes a bite of his sandwich. “Must say I’m surprised you’re here. Can’t remember the last time you dropped in for lunch.”
“Something’s been bothering me about Jess’s time in prison. Guess I just need a sounding board.”
Garrett gives a single nod. “Fire away.”
“I’ve been wondering why she was frequently attacked in there. Was it because she came off as weak and an easy target? Or was it an inside job that had something to do with her husband’s murder?”
“What does Jess think about those two possibilities?”
“I haven’t asked her. All I know is it wasn’t always the same person who attacked or harassed her.” My stomach clenches at how she went from living with an abusive husband to living in that hell, always having to watch her back. “She couldn’t identify who almost killed her just prior to her release.”
Garrett’s frown deepens. I can imagine all kinds of plot scenarios are going through his mind. “The prison guards must know who it was. There had to be cameras where it happened.”
“You would think there’d be cameras in the kitchen. Jess said it was dark when it happened. The lights were momentarily turned off and she was alone at the time.”
“Alone? She was in a fucking prison. Why the hell would the guards leave her alone in the kitchen?”
“No idea. But now you see why I’m questioning things. Jess said if Beckley knows who did it, they’re keeping silent.” I take a bite of my turkey sandwich and chew on it as I recall everything Jess has told me.
A finch lands on the stone birdbath in the middle of the flowerbed in front of us. Butterscotch stops chasing the butterflies and barks at the small bird. The finch takes flight.
“Before her location became public knowledge,” Garrett says, “did the Beckley administrators know where to find her?”
“Maybe. Possibly. Her brother-in-law knew. He was the one who arranged for her to move to Maple Ridge when she was released from prison. He and his wife share a mutual acquaintance with Anne Carstairs. I don’t know. Maybe the prison admins knew to contact him to pass on any messages to Jess since she didn’t have a phone when she moved here.” I do know Jess hasn’t reached out to Beckley or given them her information.
Her brother-in-law realized Jess needed a quiet place to recuperate from her ordeal. He might be keeping Jess from Amelia, but at least he did that much for her. Or was it his way of ensuring Jess kept away from his family? He is, after all, the brother of the asshole she married. Who’s to say he isn’t as manipulative as her late husband?
“As long as the San Diego police know where to find her, they can contact her if they figure out who attempted to kill her.” Garrett bites into his sandwich.
“That’sifthey decide to prosecute the guilty party.”
“You don’t sound like you believe they would,” he replies around a mouthful of food.
“I don’t know. I just wish I knew what the motive was for the attack.”
“Why don’t I see what my FBI contacts can come up with? I’m not promising anything, mind you. But maybe there’s some intel they can drum up and share with us.”
“While you’re at it, see if you can get names of anyone else who’s been released from Beckley since Jess got out.”
Garrett’s eyebrows lift over barely widened eyes. “Any reason why?”
“I just want to be prepared in case there’s something we’re missing.”
“You think they might come after her ’cause they failed to kill her the first time?” He blows out a low whistle. “That would be pretty ballsy, especially when they won’t be allowed to leave California for a while.”
“It would be. But so is attempting murder while under maximum security.” Whoever did that doesn’t give a damn about the law and probation rules. “That’s why I’m wondering what else they have at stake—and why murdering Jess was important to them.”
* * *
A police cruiseris parked outside my office building when I arrive there after lunch. It probably has nothing to do with Jess, but I still quicken my pace.
I yank open the door to Carson Construction and enter the waiting area. A cop is standing in front of Jess’s desk. Jess is also standing there, her face pale.
