All The Stars In Heaven (23 page)

Chapter Forty

Sarah sat in the back of Kirk’s cruiser, parked across the street from the jail. She watched out the window as Trish and Archer went inside the building.
It ought to be me,
she thought, frustrated that once again she was confined because of Carl.

Last night Austen had regained consciousness after his surgery. Sarah had been there when he’d talked to the Cambridge police and given a sketch artist an almost exact description of Carl. She’d been only too happy to tell police where her cousin lived, and Kirk had informed her this morning that Carl was now behind bars in this very jail.

She hoped his bail was a million dollars and that her dad couldn’t post it. In spite of Kirk’s worries—and his insistence she wait in the car with him—she seriously doubted Carl would be out of jail anytime soon, and certainly not tonight. Heaven knew she’d learned that getting a bail bond was a difficult enough process. In the last twenty-four hours she’d emptied what little she had from the bank account Mrs. Larson had insisted she set up, passed a driver’s test and obtained her license, convinced Trish to put her car up as collateral, and all but signed her life away as the indemnitor for the bail bond to get Jay out.

If she was lucky, her father would be too worried about his reputation as chief of police to go through the same hoops and expense to free Carl. And with Carl behind bars, she might have a chance at a normal life.

“There they are,” Sarah said, face pressed to the window as she watched Archer, Trish, and Jay coming down the steps.

“I still don’t like this,” Kirk said. “I don’t see why you can’t wait until—”

“I
can’t,
” Sarah insisted. “Please, Kirk. I waited all day for you to be off work. And Carl’s not going to get out tonight. I’m perfectly safe. I have to see Jay.”

“All right.” He raised his hands in defeat and got out of the cruiser to open the back door.

“Thanks.” She grinned at him, then made her way across the slushy street to the parking lot. Arms wrapped around her middle to ward of both the freezing temperature and nerves, she waited several cars away from Archer’s bug. If Jay left with Trish and Archer, she would know he didn’t want to talk to her.

And I’ll die a slow death right here.
She lifted her face to the sky and caught her breath at the glittering array of stars overhead.
Galileo couldn’t deny the truth. Neither can I.
The North Star stood out from the others, sparkling brightly in the clear, cold night. Sarah took it as a sign that she’d made a good decision, that trusting Jay was the right thing.

Archer said something to Jay as they neared the Volkswagen. He looked over at her.

Please. Please forgive me.
Her heart sank as Jay turned away and leaned into the bug. A few seconds later he stood up, backpack in hand, and started walking toward her.

“Thank you,” Sarah whispered, feeling her heart begin to beat again. She hurried forward, meeting him halfway. They stopped a few feet apart, staring at one another.

“Thanks for bailing me out,” Jay said.

He looked tired and defeated, and she wished she’d acted sooner. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

Jay shrugged. “I’m surprised you came at all.” He put his hands in his pockets and looked away. “What do you want from me, Sarah?”

She took a step closer to him. “I want you to tell me you didn’t do it, that you’re keeping your promise.”

His eyes sought hers again. “I didn’t do it. And I always keep my promises.”

She crossed the space between them as a huge grin broke out across her face.

“I know.”

* * *

Jay looked down at his fingers, intertwined with Sarah’s, as they sat side by side on the sofa in Kirk’s living room. “I don’t have much of a choice,” he said, trying to convince both Sarah and Kirk that, though he’d been out of jail less than an hour, he had to work tonight. “I’m going to need all the money I can get. Attorneys aren’t cheap, you know.” He gave Kirk a wry smile.

“Want me to give you a list of the ones I’m
sure
could get you off?” Kirk opened a drawer in the table beside his chair and took out a pen and paper.

Jay shook his head. “I’d rather represent myself than have someone like Nicholsine defend me.”

“Why
don’t
you represent yourself?” Sarah asked. “You’ve almost got your law degree.”

“Bad idea,” Jay and Kirk said at the same time.

“I don’t want to come off as cocky,” Jay said. “And a
real
attorney is going to have a lot more access to the documents and information that I’ll need to prove I’m innocent.”

“It’s going to take a lot of investigating,” Kirk added. “
Someone
put that stuff in Jay’s room. We have to figure out who.” He looked at Jay. “Any thoughts?”

“I might have said Archer, but since he came to get me out . . .”

“Your roommate?” Kirk asked.

“Yeah. He’s been acting kind of strange, and he’s been upset with me.” Jay looked sideways at Sarah. “He thinks there’s something going on between Trish and me.”

“Hasn’t he noticed
us?
” Sarah asked, implying they were a couple again—which Jay wasn’t really sure was true. They’d come straight to Kirk’s house, so they hadn’t had a chance to talk privately yet. But he couldn’t have been more surprised to see Sarah’s name on the papers posting bail, or to find her waiting outside in the parking lot. And when she’d told him she knew he was innocent and reached up to give him a tentative hug, he’d nearly fallen backward. After all, the last time he’d seen her—just before she walked off the dance floor and left him standing there—she’d said she couldn’t trust him. Jay wasn’t sure what had happened in the last few weeks to change that, or if it was a change that was permanent.
But,
he admitted to himself,
it did feel good to hold her again. Really good.

“Us
hasn’t been happening for a few weeks,” he reminded her. Sarah squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze, looking chagrined. Jay continued. “Trish felt bad for me, so whenever she was over we’d talk, and Archer assumed more was going on.”

“Were his assumptions correct?”

“No.” Jay heard the uncertainty in Sarah’s voice and recognized the same flash of insecurity he’d seen in her eyes when he’d talked about Jane. He needed to remember Sarah was new at the dating game—that it wasn’t a game to her at all. She said what she meant and acted and
re
acted according to her feelings. Right now he could tell her feelings were hurt and anxious.

“At the restaurant you said it might take some time for me to come to terms with everything you told me.” She had a pleading look in her eyes. “It did.”

“I was waiting—and hoping.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his hand lingering against her cheek a second longer than necessary.

“Ah-hem.” Kirk cleared his throat, reminding them he was still in the room.

“As I was saying,” Jay began. “I’ve got to get to work.”

Sarah bit her lip. “You don’t think you’ve lost your job?”

“Not this one. My employer will probably advertise it. ‘Guitarist arrested. Come see the show.’ Unfortunately, it’s that kind of place. But my status as a law clerk intern is definitely in question.”
What goes around comes around.
He thought of Jane and how she must have felt when she’d lost her internship and couldn’t graduate, through no fault of her own. He only hoped he’d be as lucky, and that when this was all over someone would speak up for him, so he could finish school.

“Before you leave, is there anyone else you can think of that would do this to you?” Kirk asked, the pen in his hand, tapping on his leg.

“The obvious,” Jay said. He cast a concerned glance Sarah’s way.

“Carl?” she asked, as if she were already thinking the same thing.

“That’d be my guess.” Kirk leaned back in his chair, resting one foot on the opposite knee. “He’s been buying drugs. We know that much.”

“And if my father wanted to get rid of Jay—or at least get even with him for helping me . . .” Sarah’s voice trailed off. She sounded sad when she spoke again. “I can’t believe he’s that evil.”

Jay let go of her hand and put his arm around her.

“We have to at least look at that possibility,” Kirk said. “Difficult though that may be.
Something
is going on with your cousin, and I’d wager your dad knows what it is.”

Chapter Forty-One

Carl shuffled down the hall, the baggy legs of his jumpsuit brushing against each other as he moved, the cuffs on his hands in front of him grating. One-size-fits-all wasn’t working too well—they ought to have made bigger sizes for guys like him with thick wrists and arms bulky from working out.

He grunted, and a half smile curved his lips as he thought of the guy he’d taken down. It had been a relief—after so many months of controlling his temper—to finally pulverize someone’s face. He would’ve done it even if the guy
had
told him where Sarah was. But when he wouldn’t say a word, it had been that much more satisfying to use him as a punching bag. Too bad he’d lived.
Next time,
Carl thought,
I’ll make sure there’s nothing left of his mouth to blab—nothing left of him at all.

Moving ahead of the guard, he turned the corner and went through the metal door into the visiting room.
About time,
Carl thought. The chief had never taken so long to get him out before. But after rotting in this jail four lousy days, Carl felt ready to kill someone. It might be the chief himself if he wasn’t careful.
Then I could get my hands on Sarah—
all over
Sarah.
The princess had caused him enough grief. She owed him, and—cousin or not—it was about time she paid up.

He walked through another set of doors and was led past the bank of chairs, separated from the visitors on the other side by a glass partition. Carl looked up, scanning the faces on the other side of the windows. The chief’s wasn’t among them. Confused, he started to turn back toward the guard, who pointed him to yet another door at the end of the room. It buzzed open and Carl walked forward, entering a six-foot cubicle. A single table and two chairs were the only furnishings in the small space. A man he didn’t know sat in the chair closest to the door. A folder lay on the table.

Carl looked at the guard. “Who’s this?”

“Your attorney. Ten minutes.” He pulled the door shut behind him as he left.

Feeling uneasy, Carl sat in the opposite chair. This wasn’t a good sign. The chief had never sent a lawyer to the jail before. He’d always bailed him out and then taken care of the legalities.

“Hello, Carl.” The attorney’s gaze was piercing. “We’ve been watching your work, and we’re most impressed.” He spoke slowly, emphasizing each syllable.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Was this some kind of trick? Carl felt sweat breaking out on his forehead. Stupid jumpsuits were hotter than—

“I’m sure you do.” The lawyer’s mouth twisted in a sinister grin that matched the look in his eyes. He opened the folder and pushed it toward Carl.

Carl looked down at an 8 x 10 photo of him and Sarah at the park—the night he’d been drunk and Grant chewed him out.

“I think you’ll find we’ll mutually benefit from working together.”

“You got a name?” Carl asked, shoving the folder back across the table.

“Rossi,” the man said. “But you already knew that.”

Chapter Forty-Two

“You’re in a good mood tonight,” Diedre said, casting an appreciative glance toward Jay, whistling as he walked by the bar.

“Yes, I am,” he said. “Don’t we have some Reserved signs around here somewhere?” He ran his hand beneath the bar where the signs used to be.

“Depends,” Diedre said. She took one from a basket just out of his reach. Dangling it from her fingers, she held it near his face. “What do you want it for?”

“Front table with three chairs,” Jay said. He took it from her and walked to the table, pulling it closer to the stage, a little apart from the others.

Diedre untied the apron from around her waist, tossed it on the counter, and followed him. Frowning, she put her hands on her hips. “It’s not for—what’s her name? I thought you two weren’t an item anymore.”

“Things are better,” Jay said.

Diedre rolled her eyes. “For how long?” She leaned in close, placing a hand on the front of his jacket. “I don’t know what’s wrong with these college women you meet, but don’t you think it’s time you were with someone who would really appreciate you—
all
of you?”

Jay set his guitar case upright on the floor between them. “My feelings haven’t changed. I’m dating someone else.”

“We don’t have to call it a date.” She placed her hand over his on the guitar case. “I’m only offering to help with your aching heart.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I don’t have an aching heart.” He pulled his hand free. “Things were a bit rough between Sarah and me, but they’re better now.” He grabbed a chair and pushed it up to the table. “You’ll see when she comes here tonight.”

* * *

Diedre watched the door from the corner of her eye as she mixed another drink. It was ten minutes to eight, and Jay’s girlfriend still hadn’t arrived.

“Hurry up, chick,” Diedre muttered under her breath. Jay would be onstage soon, and then she’d have no chance to get Sarah out of here. And after the amount of cash that guy had offered, Diedre wanted to make sure it happened.

“Here you go.” She slapped the drink down in front of a newcomer at the bar. With wavy dark hair and a muscled body, he wasn’t too hard on the eyes—normally she would’ve been pleased with such company to look forward to for the evening. But flirting was the furthest thing from her mind as the door opened and a petite blond entered the room.

Diedre watched as she stopped, standing just inside the doorway, face unsure as her eyes took in the surroundings.

Kind of a dump your boyfriend works at, isn’t it?
Diedre imagined the girl’s thoughts. She pulled her purse from beneath the cash register and looked at the picture one more time. A thrill of adrenalin shot through her.
It’s her all right. That five hundred bucks is practically in my pocket.

Ignoring another customer’s request for a refill, Diedre left the bar and walked over to the woman.

“Sarah?” she asked, pasting a false smile on her face.
What does he see in you? You’re as plain as they come.

The woman nodded.

“Jay’s expecting you. He asked me to bring you backstage. Come on.” Diedre started walking toward the rear exit.

“Thanks.” Sarah followed, wending her way through the crowded room to a narrow hall on the side of the stage.

“Right through that door,” Diedre said. “He’s sure excited you’re here tonight.”
Not as excited as I am.
“I’ve got to get back to the bar. See ya.”

She pretended to leave as Sarah put her hand on the doorknob.

Diedre noiselessly flipped the light switch off, then turned back, nudging Sarah’s shoulder as she stood there in the pitch black.

“Oh, these lights,” Diedre said. “Let me help you.” She reached around Sarah to push the door open. A blast of frigid night air swept into the narrow space.

“I can’t see—” Sarah began.

Diedre pushed her hard, sending her out the door into the dark alley. “That’s the whole point.”