“He’s still there?”
“No, he’s retired. I paid a visit to his home.”
“He’s well, then?”
“Seemed to be.”
“I’m glad. I liked Chester.”
“Then why didn’t you stay in touch with him?”
“Because when I lost that scholarship, I had the choice to let the disappointment sour me, or to move on. I chose to move on. I’ve spent much of my life fighting against the chip that would like to rest on my shoulder, Detective. Things other people take for granted, I’ve had to fight for. I’ve never known the security of unconditional love. Or a guaranteed roof over my head. I never had visits from Santa at Christmastime or home-cooked holiday meals that weren’t charity handouts. I sure as hell never had anyone who would help me through college, or buy my first car, or help pay for insurance. I knew a long time ago that I had two choices. I could either feel sorry for myself, wear the chip, hate the world, take what I deserved, or I could stand up to the challenge, work hard, be a decent person and make the most of my life. I chose the latter.”
“With the exception of not coming forward the day that little Claire Sanderson went missing. It wasn’t such a decent thing, letting Frank Whittier take the fall just to save your ass.”
Colton’s gaze didn’t falter. “No, it wasn’t,” he said, looking Ramsey straight in the eye. “And that’s a choice I regret deeply. But do you really blame me, Detective?” Colton laid both hands on the table. “You’ve proven my point. This is why I didn’t come forward twenty-five years ago. I’ve done nothing wrong, but you’re poking into every aspect of my life, talking to people I associated with, laying doubt as to my innocence. You’re investigating me, Detective! Simply because I was doing my job at a time and place where someone else did something hideous.”
The man didn’t raise his voice. But he was showing emotion. A step in the right direction.
“I’m older now, Detective. And self-employed. I can handle the negative aspects of being interrogated, but twenty-five years ago I was a kid starting out. I had very little savings, no means to get a better education and no parents to fall back on. The only thing I had was my reputation and if you’d done then what you’re doing now—which we both know you would have—I could have lost every chance I had at a decent life.” None of which meant that Colton did not take that little girl.
“Chester told us that you had a girlfriend while you were at UC.”
“I dated.”
“Someone outside of UC.”
“That’s what I told the baseball team.”
“It wasn’t true?”
“I didn’t have a girl, period,” Colton said, his gaze as direct as always. “I dated a couple of girls a few times, but that was it. I knew I couldn’t get involved. I had nothing to offer anyone, no ability to support anyone.”
Not many freshmen in college thought about supporting their dates.
“I most certainly would not have brought a girl to any of those baseball parties. I didn’t date those kinds of girls. And even if I did, I wouldn’t subject any girl to the avaricious appetites of those immature, egotistical clods. They didn’t know when to say when.”
“You remember any of the girls’ names? Or anything about them?”
“One. Haley Sanders,” Colton said without hesitation. To remember a casual date’s name that easily after so many years meant something.
That the girl had made an impression? That Jack Colton was as careful with every single aspect of his life as he was with his money?
“She was sweet, different. More mature than the rest of the girls I knew.”
“You remember anything about her? Her parents? Was she a student?”
“I met her outside a movie theater near campus. She was waiting on a date who stood her up. I never met her family. Or knew that much about her. She didn’t like to talk about her life. We met up a few times, but I never even had a phone number for her. She always called me, which is how the guys knew she existed. We had a pay phone in the hall on our floor and I wasn’t always there to get her calls.”
“You hear from her lately?”
“Not since a week before the cuts were announced. Whether I made the team or not, I told her I couldn’t continue to see her.”
“Why couldn’t you see her?” He made himself sound merely curious. And had a feeling the answer was important.
“Because I liked her. A lot. And I could tell she was liking me a lot, too.”
“And that meant it had to end?”