“Yeah, you figured we’d think you’d done it—I get that.” Darcy rubbed her face. “But dammit, we can’t help you if we don’t know the facts. Drake blindsided both of us back there.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why don’t you tell us what really went down that night.” Jase’s tone was mild.
“All right.” She took a deep breath. “Ryland called me Monday night—three nights before the accident. He claimed he wanted to reconcile, that he’d made a huge mistake letting me go.” She shook her head. “I was stunned. He’d spent almost a year directing his lawyer to pull every stunt in the book to keep all of our assets in the divorce, and now he wanted me to take him back? I said no way and hung up on him.”
“What reason did he give for the reconciliation?” Darcy asked.
“That’s just it—he didn’t have one, at least not one that made sense. He called right back, begging me to listen and making a big deal out of how much he missed me, how the other women hadn’t meant anything, how much he loved me.” Jordan rolled her eyes. “Right. I didn’t buy that for one minute. But after I calmed down, I thought the kindest thing I could do was to meet with him, hear him out, and try to find a way to let him down gently.”
Darcy gave her a look of disbelief.
“I know, I know. But I was married to him for seven years—I figured I owed him the chance to explain himself. Besides, I’d already committed to the house up here, and I didn’t want the divorce to drag out. Yes, I could’ve handled the down payment out of the small inheritance from my grandmother and some outstanding receivables from my therapy practice, but it would’ve required me to cash out long-term investments on short notice. The settlement from the divorce—a small amount from the sale of the condo—was sufficient and simply more convenient. So I called Ryland and asked him to meet me at the condo Thursday evening after work. My plan was to minimize the conflict between us, not goad him into a heated argument.”
“Why meet him at the condo?” Jase asked.
“You mean, did I lure him out there with the intent of murdering him?”
He gave her a chiding look. “Drake was right to ask—the condo was much farther away for both of you than some bar or restaurant closer to town, right?”
“But much less public,” Jordan pointed out. “And believe me, the paparazzi had taken every opportunity to follow us around. The last thing I wanted was to be the subject of another front-page article claiming that the divorce settlement was in contention again. We’d just managed in recent weeks to make it off the front page.”
“What happened after Ryland got there?” Darcy asked.
“We fought, and he got very angry.” She frowned. “In fact, I’d never seen him that way before—almost desperate to convince me we should be together. I put it down to his possibly running out of money, because of the civil suits that had been adjudicated against him. The damages from those suits would’ve set him back years, and it was questionable whether he could ever get his license to practice reinstated.”
“So if anything, Ryland was the one who needed your assets,” Darcy concluded. “Did he know about the inheritance from your granny?”
Jordan nodded. “Probate was finalized while we were married. But the account was always in my name only—the probate lawyer said Grandmother’s will stipulated that the money was mine and mine alone.”
“Sounds like Granny knew what kind of man you’d married,” Darcy observed.
“Long before I did, it seems.” Jordan sighed. “That’s it—we argued, Ryland pleaded with me, I refused, he got angrier, I asked him to leave, and he stormed out.” She looked at both of them. “I have no idea how to cut the brake lines on a car—I don’t even know where to look for them. And I didn’t have anyone else do it for me.”
“I can certainly vouch for your lack of DIY experience,” Jase said, relenting enough to smile a little. “It’s difficult to envision how you could tamper with the brakes when you don’t know one tool from another. The D.A. will argue, though, that such things are easily researched. And Drake is convinced you did it.”
“That much is obvious.”
The waitress returned with their food, and they let the subject drop while they filled their plates. Jordan discovered that she was ravenous, but when she tried to use her chopsticks, she found her hands were shaking too badly to make them work.
Jase was watching her carefully. “Are you all right?”
“No, I’m not—I’m mad.” She realized it was true. She was angry at a system that allowed such flawed investigations, and angry with Drake for focusing exclusively on her. She looked at Darcy. “Drake’s not interested in finding out who really did this, is he?”
Darcy speared a pot sticker. “Nope. He’s got you in his sights, and he’s got witness statements that evidently corroborate his assumptions.” She chewed for a moment. “God knows I’m a suspicious soul, but if I didn’t know better, I’d think someone was setting you up.”
Jordan’s chopsticks wobbled, the food falling back to her plate. Darcy was right—it was possible someone was feeding the police information in an effort to keep Drake focused on her.
“The question is, who?” Darcy mused.
Jordan shook her head. “The only person who comes to mind as a remote possibility is Didi Wyeth. Maybe she thinks I did it, and she wants revenge.”
“She could’ve followed Ryland to your condo, witnessed the argument, and decided to take advantage of the situation,” Jase said. “How angry was she when Ryland broke up with her?”
Jordan shrugged. “Carol mentioned that the gossip columnists had plastered pictures of their breakup all over the tabloids, speculating that Didi was washed up as an actress. If her career was harmed by the press coverage, I suppose that’s a motive.”
“Or, in the spirit of keeping her motive simple,” Darcy countered, “she could’ve just been really pissed off at the son of a bitch for dumping her and wanted him dead. Your argument presented the perfect opportunity, and she took it. Then you come along, telling Drake to talk to her and find out whether she had an alibi, and she uses that opportunity to redirect Drake’s attention right back to you.”
And if not Didi, Jordan had to wonder how many other women were floating around out there with similar levels of anger.
As always, Darcy seemed to be on the same wavelength. “Who in your opinion are the most likely suspects in Ryland’s murder?”
“Besides Didi? Anyone Ryland diddled who failed to win a judgment against him.”
“Names?”
“Marcy Brentworth—she comes from old Hollywood producer money. Alice Langston, another actress.” Jordan thought about it, then shook her head. “Those are the only two I can come up with off the top of my head, but if we look at the civil suits, we’ll come up with at least a dozen names.”
“Any of them stand out as being particularly strident or furious during the trial?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t in court, and I avoided reading the press coverage. My goal was to stay as far away from that circus as possible.” She turned to Jase. “Do you know any good private investigators in L.A.?”
He raised an eyebrow, then nodded. “Yeah, someone I used in the old days. He’s thorough, and he’s also one of the good guys.”
“Give him a call.” She pulled out a piece of paper and started writing down names. “While Drake is indulging his personal prejudices against me, a killer is walking around loose. And I want him found.” She handed Jase the paper. “I’ll hire your guy to look into the whereabouts and alibis of these people. That should be a start.”