loves them to death. He doesn’t stop talking about them. I think he loves his wife, too.” She wiped at dry eyes. “It’s just physical with me. But I think it makes me more comfortable with the relationship we have. I know that it can’t go beyond discrete encounters, so it doesn’t make me claustrophobic. If that makes sense.”
“It does,” Damon replied.
“I hope for his sake, our interlude doesn’t come out publicly. I’ll stop seeing him now, and I don’t want to have wrecked his marriage. I would hate for those kids to grow up without a father, or knowing that their father wasn’t faithful to their mother.”
Damon didn’t comment. He suspected that even if Clara broke it off with the anesthesiologist, another woman would take her place. Rather, he asked, “What time did you go back to your room that night?”
“About two in the morning. I didn’t want to stay away all night. I was ready to split with Jordan, but I still didn’t want him knowing that I was sneaking off behind his back.”
“So you think Jordan woke up while you were out of the room and he suspects you went to the fairgrounds?”
“I do. When I returned to the room, he appeared to be sleeping, but he could have been pretending. Or he could have been sleeping by then for real. But even before he made his ludicrous confession, I suspected he knew I snuck out. ”
“Why’s that?”
“The next morning, after the police called, we were driving to the fairgrounds and Jordan looked at me in a way I’ve never seen before. It was a combination of fear and protective determination. He thought I had killed my father during the overnight hours and I knew exactly what he was thinking.”
“I assume the police interviewed you separately at the fairgrounds,” Damon said. “You must have felt confident that Jordan wouldn’t say anything about you leaving the hotel room in the middle of the night.”
“I did. That’s why I didn’t tell the police.”
“So if neither of you said anything, why did he turn himself in now?”
“I don’t know. The police were digging into our histories. Some of my friends in Richmond have called me and said they spoke with the police, but I think the authorities were just grasping at straws.”
Clara went to freshen her face while Damon called Gerry. He couldn’t reach him so he told the receptionist at the police station to tell Gerry and Margaret Hobbes that he and Clara were coming in with information pertaining to Jordan Hall.
Chapter 10
Margaret was waiting in the station’s lobby and led Clara to a witness room. She ushered Damon into a holding area and requested that he remain so they could interview him after they spoke with Clara. Gerry turned up, looking significantly healthier than he had earlier in the day. He nodded at Damon as he passed by on his way to join Margaret and Clara.
Damon surveyed his surroundings. It reminded him of a dentist’s office, except not a single picture hung from the once brash, but now muted, pink and green flowered walls. Old magazines were strewn about a low center table.
Damon sat in an uncomfortable chair and read an article in Smithsonian Magazine about Samoa’s decision to move across the international date line to the west. The government of the tiny South Pacific nation had passed a law to align the country’s date with nearby Australia because it was difficult to accomplish business with the Aussies on Mondays when the Samoans were still enjoying their weekend. The upshot was that December 30, 2011, was never recognized by the Samoans—when the clock struck midnight after the night of December 29, the next minute was twelve o’ one on December 31.
Damon’s thoughts turned to Gerry. He probably felt similar to the Samoans who lost a day. Gerry had seen a murder confession vanish.
Damon felt a chill of sweat as the thought crossed his mind that Clara and Jordan had concocted an elaborate ruse to allow the pair to murder Lirim. It
“It does,” Damon replied.
“I hope for his sake, our interlude doesn’t come out publicly. I’ll stop seeing him now, and I don’t want to have wrecked his marriage. I would hate for those kids to grow up without a father, or knowing that their father wasn’t faithful to their mother.”
Damon didn’t comment. He suspected that even if Clara broke it off with the anesthesiologist, another woman would take her place. Rather, he asked, “What time did you go back to your room that night?”
“About two in the morning. I didn’t want to stay away all night. I was ready to split with Jordan, but I still didn’t want him knowing that I was sneaking off behind his back.”
“So you think Jordan woke up while you were out of the room and he suspects you went to the fairgrounds?”
“I do. When I returned to the room, he appeared to be sleeping, but he could have been pretending. Or he could have been sleeping by then for real. But even before he made his ludicrous confession, I suspected he knew I snuck out. ”
“Why’s that?”
“The next morning, after the police called, we were driving to the fairgrounds and Jordan looked at me in a way I’ve never seen before. It was a combination of fear and protective determination. He thought I had killed my father during the overnight hours and I knew exactly what he was thinking.”
“I assume the police interviewed you separately at the fairgrounds,” Damon said. “You must have felt confident that Jordan wouldn’t say anything about you leaving the hotel room in the middle of the night.”
“I did. That’s why I didn’t tell the police.”
“So if neither of you said anything, why did he turn himself in now?”
“I don’t know. The police were digging into our histories. Some of my friends in Richmond have called me and said they spoke with the police, but I think the authorities were just grasping at straws.”
Clara went to freshen her face while Damon called Gerry. He couldn’t reach him so he told the receptionist at the police station to tell Gerry and Margaret Hobbes that he and Clara were coming in with information pertaining to Jordan Hall.
Chapter 10
Margaret was waiting in the station’s lobby and led Clara to a witness room. She ushered Damon into a holding area and requested that he remain so they could interview him after they spoke with Clara. Gerry turned up, looking significantly healthier than he had earlier in the day. He nodded at Damon as he passed by on his way to join Margaret and Clara.
Damon surveyed his surroundings. It reminded him of a dentist’s office, except not a single picture hung from the once brash, but now muted, pink and green flowered walls. Old magazines were strewn about a low center table.
Damon sat in an uncomfortable chair and read an article in Smithsonian Magazine about Samoa’s decision to move across the international date line to the west. The government of the tiny South Pacific nation had passed a law to align the country’s date with nearby Australia because it was difficult to accomplish business with the Aussies on Mondays when the Samoans were still enjoying their weekend. The upshot was that December 30, 2011, was never recognized by the Samoans—when the clock struck midnight after the night of December 29, the next minute was twelve o’ one on December 31.
Damon’s thoughts turned to Gerry. He probably felt similar to the Samoans who lost a day. Gerry had seen a murder confession vanish.
Damon felt a chill of sweat as the thought crossed his mind that Clara and Jordan had concocted an elaborate ruse to allow the pair to murder Lirim. It
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