The door to the cab closed, and they pulled away.
Kate, who was sitting next to her, gently pulled Jenna’s head onto her shoulder. If it had throbbed before, it felt like it was splitting open now. “Oh, hon, I’m so sorry. I had no idea he worked there.”
“I hate him.” Something wet and salty ran into the corners of her mouth. “I hate him,” she muttered again, but it was beginning to hurt too much to talk.
She didn’t remember going back to the dorm or crawling into bed either. The next day, she was too hungover to do more than sleep.
She didn’t see Ben again until the day of the calculus final. He sat in the back of class and only briefly made eye contact with her before quickly looking away. She got a low C on the test (the worst grade she’d ever made in her life) but her high A average on the rest of her exams pulled her final grade up to a B. It was the only B she made in her entire career at the University of Miami.
The highest grade on the calculus final had been a perfect one hundred, an almost unheard-of score in Dr. Parrish’s class. Later, Jenna found out who’d scored that high on the exam. Naturally, it had been Ben.
Chapter Seven
Ben showed the correctional officer his ID then walked through the metal detector device at the Walton County jail. He wasn’t looking forward to this interview. His clients’ claim to the Handy estate depended on a guy who not only stole the city’s festival money, he’d hidden it in his house, tried to blame the whole thing on someone else, then ran from the police. Not exactly Boy Scout material.
He sat at a table in a stark little room and watched as Doug Wentworth took a seat across from him. He was in his mid-thirties and had a preppy, all-American look, but there was something slimy about him, too, and it wasn’t just the orange jumpsuit. How long this guy would last in prison was anyone’s guess. Most likely he probably wouldn’t be going to any of Florida’s hard time institutions. Wentworth was charged with felony burglary, but he’d recently confessed and promised to make restitution to the city. The confession, combined with a clean record and a savvy lawyer, meant this guy would probably only see a year in prison, tops.
Ben introduced himself. “I’m representing Nora and Vince Palermo in a suit contesting Earl Handy’s will.”
Wentworth didn’t seem surprised to see him. “I take it you read my statement.”
“I did.” Ben gave him the same steely look he gave most people he didn’t trust. “You have a good attorney and a clean record.”
“And?”
“Why confess? Why not take the chance of getting off on a technicality?”
“You probably won’t believe me, and I know it sounds like a cliché, but I’ve found Jesus.” The guy had the nerve to keep a straight face.
“You’re right, it sounds like standard con man prison bullshit to me.”
Wentworth leaned forward in his seat. “You can believe what you want, but I have a clear conscience now. That’s the important thing.”
Ben pulled a legal pad out of his briefcase. “Let’s talk about the other confession you made in your statement. The one I’m interested in.”
* * *
“You actually went inside the prison?” Gavin’s voice hitched with excitement. “That must have been very Law and Order-ish for you, sir.”
“Not really. And it wasn’t exactly a prison. It was a county jail.”
“Still…a real live prison.”
“Focus, Gavin.”
“Right, sir. So Perkins just turned in his initial report. There’s no record of either Vince or Nora Palermo ever having visited or called Doug Wentworth in prison—er, I mean, jail.”
He should be happy there was no evidence of collusion between his clients and the witness who would basically be the cornerstone of their case against the city. But Ben’s gut was telling him that Wentworth was as shady as a three-dollar bill. And his gut was never wrong.
“So who has been visiting him?” Ben asked.
“Just his lawyer and his mother. Oh, and some people from a local church.”
“Okay. Thanks. Good work, Gavin.”
“Oh, um, no, thank you, sir!”
Speaking of mothers, he needed to stop by his own mother’s place on the way back to Whispering Bay to go over some paperwork. Hopefully the whole process wouldn’t take too long, because he couldn’t be late for his date with Jenna. He was meeting her for a drink at The Harbor House this evening at six.