Back foot.What does he think this is, a game of pickleball?
“Chip, I appreciate the heads-up, but I’m not free to speak about the case at this time. I’ll let you know if and when that changes.”
“All right,” he says, sounding less than pleased with the response. “The more information we have, the better we can be at dealing with the press.”
Maybe he sees nosiness as part of his PR role, but it’s starting to get on my nerves.
“Have a good evening” is all I say, hoping to drive home that it’s pointless to pressure me.
Logan is in the lobby now—but not pacing. He’s standing by the front windows, staring out to the street. Perhaps time has taught him to wait with greater patience.
He turns as I approach him and smiles. There are a few guests congregated by the fire in the parlor now, so I hold off on telling him about the call from Conway until we’re outside.
“Well, good,” he tells me. “As we’ve said before, this probably helps our cause.”
Once we’re cocooned in the car, I find myself finally decompressing a little. For the first minute or two, I simply stare out the window at the endless clapboard houses we pass, many lit inside right now with only the muted glow from a TV screen.
“So,” I say finally, “tell me your impressions of Jack.”
Logan nods, his eyes still on the road.
“As I’m sure you noticed, he’s abandoned theInside Llewyn Davislook. He’s all cleaned up now.”
“Well, if he’s out auditioning for parts, he’s got to keep up with the times.”
“Exactly. And believe it or not, his career might be taking off.”
“Are you serious?” I say, more than a little surprised.
“This is all according to him, of course, but he just shot a pilot for a series with some big-deal—what do they call them?—showrunner, and it looks really promising. He’s not the lead, but he’d be a regular, in every episode.”
“I thought you said he was waiting tables.”
“He is, but just till the show gets the green light.”
So now, eight years later, Jack Lawler might be closing in on his dream, something never allowed to happen for Mel.
“Okay, good for him,” I say as Logan navigates a turn. We’re now on the outskirts of Cartersville, traveling a two-lane highway. “But that makes it an even bigger surprise that he took the time to drive up for the reception.”
“You don’t buy the ‘paying tribute to Mel’ stuff?”
“Like I said, I could if tomorrow night was amemorial, but it’s not ... What ... what if this trip is really about the show and his red-hot future?”
“I’m not following.”
“There’s a lot on the line for him now, so maybe the whole point of him coming was to meet with you face-to-face and make sure there aren’t hard feelings that could backfire on him.”
“He’s covering his ass in some way?”
“Yeah, maybe,” I say. “I’m not exactly aPeoplemagazine reader these days, but I’ve seen stories in the news about male actors on the brink of major stardom who get dropped by agents and studios if there’s even a hint of impropriety in their dealings with women. If Jack’s career takes off, and reporters investigate his background, they might learn he was on police radar following the murder of his former girlfriend.”
Logan nods, fully catching my drift. “And now that he’s met with us and made nice, he’s probably fairly confident we won’t malign him in any way.”
“Yup ... Butshouldwe be maligning him? Do you think there’s any chance he did it, Logan?”
He pulls back a little in the driver’s seat, obviously surprised by my comment. “As of now, I’d have to say no, I guess. I mean, Riley’s story—if it checks out—pretty much leaves him in the clear.” He glances over. “Why? Are you still having trouble believing her?”
A sigh escapes my lips. “No, not anymore, actually. The reason I tried to reach you earlier is because I had a visit today with Morgan Kroll, the woman Riley said she spoke to.”
