done a lot for us,” Mara demurred, embarrassed by his praise.
The woman in question joined them then, dressed in a pink chenille bathrobe, her coal-black hair released from its ever-present bun to fall to her waist, her ample cheeks rosy with the excitement of seeing another of her grandchildren now that they all knew who she was.
“Jared!” Celeste gushed as she came into the living room.
“Hello,” he answered stiltedly, the awkwardness of the moment obvious, just as it had been with other Perrys who had come to visit Celeste in the six days since her true identity had been known.
“I was about to pour Celeste a nightcap,” Mara interjected. “Can I get you a little brandy, too?”
“I think so,” he said as if it were a welcome suggestion.
Mara left them in the living room and went into the kitchen. She doubted that the cheap brandy she poured from a plastic decanter would be up to Jared Perry’s standards, but Celeste lived frugally and it was the only option.
“Let’s sit,” Celeste said to her grandson, motioning to the sofa as Mara handed them each a glass of brandy.
Celeste lowered her girth into the recliner again and this time Jared Perry took up a spot on the sofa nearby. Where Mara would soon be sleeping just as she had every night for the last week.
“Sit with us, Mara,” Celeste invited as Mara was about to retreat to the kitchen again to allow them that slight amount of privacy.
But if Celeste wanted her nearer than that, Mara wouldn’t refuse her and perched on an ottoman near the recliner.
Once she had, Celeste’s attention centered again on her grandson.
And so did Mara’s.
She couldn’t help it. Jared Perry was just such a presence in the small space and as Celeste let him know how she’d kept tabs on him and the rest of the Perry family over the years, Mara took more specific stock of what made up the handsome hunk sitting across the room.
His sable-brown hair had a reddish hue where the sun had kissed it. It was cut short on the sides and longer on top, but so meticulously that there was almost an art to the style. His nose was slightly flat across the bridge, with no-nonsense nostrils. His lips were slightly thin, but somehow lush just the same. He had cheekbones that weren’t terribly pronounced but sat atop hollows that dipped into a sharp jawline, and a chin with a stubborn firmness to it. There was the shadow of a beard that added to his smoldering good looks but seemed too rugged to go with the sophistication of his attire.
And then there were those eyes—eyes Mara could now see were so light a blue they were almost colorless. Remarkable, mesmerizing eyes that left her thinking that, if he wanted to, he could make any woman go tongue-tied and entranced with just the right kind of glance.
“Let’s get to the reason I’m here tonight instead of waiting to see you at a more civil hour.”
Jared Perry’s voice—like deep, dark cognac—penetrated Mara’s study of him even though he wasn’t addressing her.
“I want to talk to you about getting a decent defense attorney,” he said to Celeste in an all-business tone that cut to the chase.
“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Celeste responded with the same not-overly-concerned attitude she’d maintained all through the week.
And with that Mara felt compelled to enter the conversation.
“It is necessary,” she said, eager for another opportunity to say what she’d been saying from the start. “You should have an attorney who isn’t a public defender. You’re going to be questioned by the FBI, state police, detectives and the D.A. tomorrow, and your public defender has spent all of ten minutes on the phone with you.”
“But that doesn’t matter because I didn’t do any of what those people will be questioning me about,” Celeste insisted, just as she had multiple times.
“Still,” her grandson said forcefully, “you don’t know what kind of evidence they’re going to come at you with or how it might be slanted. With a bank robbery and now the remains of the second robber unearthed to cast suspicions of murder you’re in no position to take this in stride.”
Obviously Jared Perry was well informed. But Celeste was busy shaking her head at his argument.
“I’m not taking it in stride, Jared. It’s just that I didn’t do anything,” she said again.
“So let the attorney I bring in say that for you,” he said, going on to outline all the reasons it was imperative for Celeste to have an accomplished lawyer.
He was eloquent but he didn’t pull any punches, and in the process he made Celeste’s situation seem very dire regardless of her guilt or innocence. He was so blunt, in fact, that there were a few times when Mara flinched at what he said. Yes, every worst-case scenario was possible if things didn’t go Celeste’s way, but his harshness stunned Mara and clearly shook Celeste who went from what had seemed to be complacence to all-out, color-drained-from-her-face fear.
He must have seen it, too, because when he’d finished he said, “I’m sorry to take the hard line here, but I’ve been in touch with the family and when they told me you were sticking with a public defender I couldn’t believe it. I knew somebody had to come in here and not sugarcoat things for you. You need a lawyer—a great lawyer—and that’s all there is to it.”
“He is right,” Mara put it in a softer tone. “You know I think it’s in your best interest, too.”
Celeste raised the glass of brandy she’d only been sipping at and threw back what remained of it. Then, for a long moment, she stared blankly at the floor before she said in a weak voice, “I guess I was being naive. If you’re both so sure—”
“I’ll put in the call right now,” her grandson said, whipping out a razor-thin cell phone as if he’d been champing at the bit for the go-ahead.
Seeing that the older woman had wilted in her chair beneath the weight of all her grandson had said to her, Mara reached over and squeezed Celeste’s hand.
“It’s a good thing to do,” Mara assured her, relieved that someone had at last persuaded Celeste, even if she wasn’t thrilled with the method. “It can’t do any harm for you to have a competent lawyer.”
“It can if it makes me look guilty after I’ve already told the authorities that I don’t care about a lawyer because I have nothing to hide,” Celeste whispered what had been her contention all along.
Mara hadn’t thought Jared Perry was listening but apparently he was, because before she could reassure Celeste he said, “It doesn’t make you look guilty. It’s no more than they expect of someone in your situation.” Then, without missing a beat he began talking into his phone.
“That’s true,” Mara confirmed before standing and going back to the kitchen, returning with the brandy and refilling Celeste’s glass.
The older woman again downed the cheap liquor as if she needed it to steady her nerves.
Then Jared Perry was off the phone and his focus was again
