they reached Trina’s white Cadillac, Robyn’s cell phone rang. The ring-tone was an earthy hip-hop song one of her students had downloaded for her when she’d left her phone unguarded. Trina froze as Robyn fumbled for the phone.
“Yes?”
“It’s Ford Hyatt. Can I meet with you and Trina?”
“Now?”
“As soon as possible. I’m at a bar and grill called Pacifica. Do you know where it is?”
“Yes. We can be there in half an hour.”
“I’ll be watching for you.” He disconnected. A man of few words.
“Was it him?” Trina asked eagerly. “Is Project Justice taking on the case?”
“He wants to meet with us.”
Trina clamped her eyes shut. “That sounds like bad news. He would just tell you over the phone if it was good news, right?”
“Let’s not assume the worst,” Robyn said, though she suspected Trina was right. Ford had sounded solemn. He might want to deliver bad news in person, to soften the blow. But then, Ford had turned into a solemn man. Again, she wondered what circumstances had caused that bleak look in his eye, and why she’d had to track him down at a bar where he was drinking—alone.
PACIFICA WASN’T THE SORT of place where Ford hung out. It was an upscale suburban bar, with a posh, funky decor that appealed to Houston’s young professionals and where the martinis cost ten dollars and came in pretty colors.
Raleigh had chosen it. Raleigh Shinn was the senior attorney at Project Justice. She would consult on the Jasperson case, file the necessary papers and make court appearances. Ford liked working with Raleigh because she was thorough, knowledgeable and a hard worker. On the other hand, she was utterly humorless. He’d never seen her wear anything but a severe suit, her reddish hair slicked back into a tight bun. She had a pretty face and a stunning figure, but she downplayed her looks to a ridiculous degree.
As they sat at a corner table waiting for Robyn and Trina, Raleigh nursed a club soda.
“They’re late,” Raleigh said.
“Probably stuck in traffic.”
“I’ve been digging around in the backgrounds of these two ladies. The first Mrs. Jasperson has a juvenile record, sealed. The second is no angel, either. She’s been charged with everything from public intoxication to disturbing the peace to solicitation.”
“Solicitation? I thought those were just rumors.” What was it with rich men and their prostitutes?
“The charge didn’t stick. I think she was more of a party girl—sleeping with rich men in return for nice dinners out, clothes, jewelry. Eldon apparently had an appetite for bad girls.”
“But by the time Robyn married him, she’d turned her life around.” He’d done some digging around of his own. Robyn had gone to college and was now a teacher. Who would have guessed?
“Robyn, is it? First names?”
“She’s an old friend. Well, acquaintance, anyway. I can tell you what’s in her juvey record. Shoplifting, underage drinking, misdemeanor possession. But she went through one of those ‘Scared Straight’ programs and turned herself around.”
Raleigh raised one skeptical eyebrow at Ford. “How do you know so much?”
“I went to high school with her,” he admitted. “Green Prairie High was a good school, not too many troublemakers. Robyn was the exception.” She had alternately fascinated him and horrified him. That a pretty, intelligent girl like Robyn would have such disregard for her future, that she would choose to hang around slackers, losers and dopers, confused the hell out of him.
He’d tried reaching out to her. He’d caught her alone for once, sitting in the cafeteria with a crummy school-lunch taco in one hand, the Cliff’s Notes for Hamlet in the other. It was shortly after she’d returned from a stint in juvey.
He’d set his tray down across from her, then wished he’d rehearsed what he would say beforehand. Normally he wasn’t tongue-tied around girls. But Robyn, who seemed more adult and worldly to him than the other girls, had him flummoxed.
“You need any help with the Bard?” he’d asked.
She’d looked up at him, puzzled and not very friendly. “The what?”
“Shakespeare. The Bard.”
“Oh. No, thanks, got it covered.”
“I did Hamlet last year.” Ford had taken all advanced placement classes, so he was ahead of Robyn, even though they were both seniors. “I’d be happy to help you study for the test.”
She’d set her book down and stared at him. “Are you coming on to me?”
“I’m offering to help you study.” And, yes, maybe secretly he’d been hoping something would happen. But he hadn’t admitted that at the time, not even to himself.
She shook her head. “You have got to be kidding.” She picked up her books and strolled away without a backward glance, leaving her half-finished taco behind.
Ford had mentally kicked himself for even trying with a girl like Robyn.
It wasn’t long after that she’d been accused of stealing those art supplies and had come before the student government tribunal. She probably thought he’d voted her guilty to get back at her for rebuffing him. That hadn’t been the case; he’d honestly thought her guilty and still did. But he’d taken some small gram of satisfaction from seeing her punished. In fact, he’d been the one to devise her penalty.
“Is that them?” Raleigh asked, nodding toward the door.
Ford waved to get their attention. “Yeah, that’s them.”
Curvaceous Trina Jasperson looked slick in a lime-green sundress, the neckline plunging to reveal impressive cleavage. Her hair moved just so as she walked her bouncy walk, and she wore enough makeup to lend truth to her questionable past.
Beside her, tall, long-legged Robyn wore a gauzy, paisley shirt and faded jeans with a big smudge on the thigh. Her hair was pulled back in a careless ponytail. No kitten heels tonight. She wore flat, leather sandals. And still, she made his mouth grow dry. There was something about her…she reminded him of a mustang filly, alert and high-spirited, loath to trust anyone.
He bet she’d hated coming to him for help. But she’d done it, to save the life of a man who’d cheated on her and betrayed her. That took guts, and he admired her for that.
The two women joined Ford and Raleigh at the table. By the time introductions were made, the waitress came by. “Can I get you ladies something to drink?”
“Bud Light,” Trina said without hesitation.
“Iced tea, please.” Robyn’s polite smile faded the moment the waitress disappeared. She looked straight at Ford as if no one else were at the table. “Please don’t leave us in suspense. Are you taking the case?”
“Yes.
