FRAMED, page 5
“Anonymously?” Tori said. Who hated her enough? She ran over the possibilities, silently. The clinic’s medical director. Her husband. Someone from the petrochemical industry with offices nearby.
Brian nodded. “Yes. Unfortunately, yes. I’m unable to access their identity.”
“But isn’t reasonable cause required to follow an anonymous tip?” Jo asked. “Arresting someone with no apparent motive, no prior criminal history, and I would assume no physical evidence linking them to the crime is unusual, don’t you think?”
“It’s weak,” Brian agreed. “If confirmed, we’ll use that to our advantage if the case goes to trial.”
The thought of a trial sent a chill down Tori’s spine.
“Something you should be aware of,” Jo said, “is that Tori is studying cancer occurrence along the Houston Ship Canal, where several large petrochemical complexes are located. Cancer rates are elevated, likely due to their toxic emissions. Fixing that could cost them dearly. Her results are like a grenade lobbed at the corporate giants. Could her arrest have something to do with her research?”
Brian laid his pen down and fixed his gaze first on Jo, then on Tori. “How so?”
“Someone might want to put me in jail to prevent me from publishing my findings,” Tori said.
“Hmm.” Brian looked thoughtful, gazing into the middle distance. He shrugged. “I’ll keep it in mind. Let’s see what evidence the federal prosecutors have before exploring the possibility of corruption and conspiracy.”
He flicked through his notes, then caught Tori’s eye. “Let’s review the morning of June 14th. Walk me through the entire day.”
Tori gathered her thoughts. “As I told the FBI, I woke up about 6:30 a.m., made coffee, and turned on NPR to listen to the news. It was too hot and muggy for a run, so I made some eggs and toast. After breakfast, I took my coffee with me to work upstairs.”
“Do you have an office in your home?” Brian asked.
“Yes, I work on my research project on Fridays,” she said.
Brian scribbled notes on his pad. “Can you describe what you did on the project that morning?”
“I worked on a cancer study I’m presenting to medical grand rounds at MD Anderson Medical Center next month.”
“Did you receive or make any phone calls that morning?”
“No. I turned off the phone’s ringer to work without interruption.”
Brian looked up from his notepad. “What time did you do that?”
“About 8:30 a.m.”
“When did you turn your phone back on?” Brian asked, writing.
“Around 12:15, when I checked my answering service for messages.”
Brian raised his head. “Can anyone confirm you worked in your home office during those hours?”
“Only my cat.”
For an instant, the corners of Brian’s mouth drew down, and he and Jo exchanged a glance. He cleared his throat. “What did you do after checking your messages?”
Tori hesitated before answering. “I turned off my computer, dressed, and left the house to meet an acquaintance for lunch.”
“What time did you leave?”
“Around 12:30.”
“Did anyone see you leave? A neighbor, perhaps?”
“I don’t think so. I didn’t see anyone.”
“Where did you meet for lunch?”
“The name of the restaurant was Lori’s Texas BBQ.”
“Will the person you met confirm you were there?”
Tori took a quick breath in, suddenly regretting mentioning the lunch.
Brian jiggled his pen, waiting.
Tori kept her expression neutral. “She didn’t show up.”
Brian and Jo exchanged glances. It didn’t look good that she had no alibi for the time of the robbery or shortly after.
Chapter 10
Their meeting with Brian concluded just before noon. Tori signed the retainer agreement, and they exchanged farewells. Jo, whose metabolism required her to eat every three hours, was ravenous when they finally left his office. They stopped off at a famous lunch spot featuring Texas BBQ. She wolfed down her brisket, beans, and cornbread while Tori picked at hers.
“Do you like Brian?” Jo asked.
“He seems very thorough.”
A neutral endorsement. Jo expected Tori to feel reassured, but instead, she acted distracted and anxious. Earlier, she’d said she thought her phone was being tapped. But after being thrown in jail for a crime she didn’t commit, Jo guessed she had a right to be on edge.
“Perhaps the grand jury will decide there is insufficient evidence to indict you,” Jo said, anxious to reassure. However, she knew grand juries most often decided in favor of the government.
Tori didn’t appear to be listening. Jo followed Tori’s gaze to a beefy, bald man by the window who was staring at them. Meeting Jo’s eyes, he quickly looked away and shoved a forkful of food into his mouth.
Tori leaned forward and whispered. “Are people staring at me because they think I’m the bank robber?”
Jo smiled and whispered back. “No. Guys stare because you’re beautiful.”
Tori gave a slight shake of her head. “I don’t like it. Let’s leave. We pay up front.”
*
They had settled on the couch, chatting and drinking tea, when the doorbell rang. Tori hurried to the door, and Jo followed, ready to protect her from unwanted intrusion.
Rick slouched against the wall, briefcase in hand. Stubble caught the light on his angular, unyielding jawline. Nature had blessed him with perfect symmetry, but since Jo last saw him, his features had hardened. Worry lines were carved across his brow, and his pale blue eyes had turned to ice.
“Hi, Tori. I tried calling, but the line was busy.” The space between them hummed with unspoken tension: no kiss, no touch, not even the slightest lean toward his wife. He uncurled from the wall and made as if to enter.
“How was your meeting with the attorney?”
“Fine.” Tori, unsmiling, opened the door wider.
No thanks to you, Rick, thought Jo.
A flash of orange caught her attention as a tabby cat she’d only caught glimpses of before, slunk into the hallway and sat by Jo’s feet. It did not appear to welcome the new arrival. Its flattened ears and whisking tail mirrored Jo’s own unease.
Rick shouldered through the door, and his gaze landed on her. “Hi, Jo. Tori told me you had lined her up with an excellent criminal defense attorney.” His delivery sounded hollow, mechanical.
“Hi, Rick,” Jo said, determined to put a neutral face on. “It’s upsetting and unexpected, isn’t it?”
“Totally,” Rick said. He looked from one to the other. “Am I interrupting?”
“Tori and I were discussing her study.”
Rick rolled his eyes skyward. “She’s obsessed. I’ve told her she’s asking for trouble.”
Jo was quick to defend her friend. “What does that mean?”
Rick looked uncomfortable. Silence stretched between the three of them, broken only by the angry swish of the cat’s tail, until Rick cleared his throat.
“Tori, may I have a word with you in private?”
Tori shrugged. “Okay.”
As Rick moved, the orange tabby crouched, body low, tail lashing like a whip. Rick eyed it warily, giving it a wide berth as he sauntered into the living room.
“I’ll go upstairs,” Jo said, leaving them together.
She thought of calling her senior partners. They needed to know about Tori’s arrest and the potential loss of their key medical expert. On the landing, fragments of Rick’s voice drifted upward. She stopped.
“. . . bail money . . . stretched too thin . . . how do you think I feel?”
The words floated up like toxic bubbles. Now, Jo heard Tori’s indistinct murmuring, quickly interrupted by Rick’s voice, sharp and angry. “Three hundred an hour?”
This did not sound like a man sympathetic to his wife’s plight. He sounded worried only about how much her defense would cost and how it would affect him. Thank goodness she’d come. Tori needed her.
Jo closed the door and flopped on the bed, staring at the ceiling. She postponed calling her office. Instead, she conjured up memories of Tori in their university days. She had brought a homeless teenager into their dorm room for a week, helping her reconcile with her parents. She’d coached a fellow student failing organic chemistry through the semester to a passing C grade. She volunteered at the local animal shelter. Tori was the kindest, most selfless woman she had ever known.
One night in their third year of college, she and Tori sat cross-legged on the roof of their dormitory, sharing a bottle of cheap wine. Tori’s shoulder had pressed warm against hers, denim jacket rasping against Jo’s thin sweater. Her hand rested on Jo’s thigh, casual as a dropped scarf, incendiary as a lit match. Jo’s pulse hammered: D - A - N - G - E - R D - E - S - I - R - E.
“Do you ever feel you were put on this earth for a purpose?” Tori said, taking a swig of Mateus from the bottle with her other hand.
“Not really. Do you?” Jo said, already giddy, the wine going to her head.
“I do,” Tori said. “When I was twelve, my grandmother told me I was special. She predicted I would do something substantial and important, move mountains if necessary, to improve people’s lives.” Tori chuckled and took another swig. “I believed her.”
“You’ve moved me.” The confession slipped out, wine loosened. Unconsciously, she took a breath and held it. Her unrequited crush on Tori had made her realize she was a lesbian, even if Tori was off-limits.
Tori took her hand off Jo’s thigh. The cool night air rushed into the space where her warmth had been. Jo let her breath out.
“I enjoy helping people,” Tori said. “But I’d like to do more.”
“Is that why you’re choosing a career in medicine?” Jo said when her pulse stopped thudding in her neck. “That’s helping people one at a time, unless you discover a major medical breakthrough. You could pursue a career in law or politics if you want to make a significant impact as a change maker.”
“Nah,” Tori said. “Medicine’s my path.”
They talked late into the night, both waking up with hangovers and vowing never to drink Mateus again.
Jo returned to the present and sighed. The Tori she knew aspired to do good in the world. She was not a woman who’d rob a bank.
“Jo? Are you on the phone?” Tori’s voice called through the closed door. She sounded hoarse, as if she’d been crying.
Jo’s heart skipped a beat at the distress in her friend’s voice. She leaped from the bed, crossing the room in three quick strides, and yanked open the door. Tori stood there, eyes red-rimmed, shoulders slumped.
“What’s wrong?” Jo beckoned her inside.
Tori’s voice quavered. “Rick is angry, blaming me for the arrest.”
Heat rose in Jo’s chest. The bastard. After everything Tori had been through, her own husband had turned against her.
“Has he left?” she asked, barely containing her contempt.
“Yes.” Tori sighed.
Jo softened her voice, gesturing toward the bed. “Come sit down.” Tori followed her and they sat side by side, their shoulders touching. Tori’s proximity and touch no longer sent Jo’s pulse racing like it used to. Those feelings had long since mellowed into something more manageable.
Tori clasped her hands in her lap. “Things were tense before the arrest, but now they’re unbearable.”
“He should be supporting, not blaming you,” Jo said, indignation coloring her words. She wanted to say more, much more, about what kind of man abandons his wife in her darkest hour.
“He’s concerned about the cost of the sureties and my defense. And how my arrest will affect his job contracts.” Tori’s tone suggested that even she didn’t believe these were valid excuses.
Jo bit back the scathing remarks threatening to spill. “I’m sorry, Tori.” The words seemed inadequate, but what else could she say? Rick was still Tori’s husband, damn it. Jo expected him to be concerned about how the arrest affected his wife’s mental state and career, not just his own circumstances.
A flash of defiance sparked in Tori’s eyes. “I don’t need his bullshit right now.”
“I understand,” Jo said quietly, then shifted the conversation. “What’s Rick doing for work these days?”
“He was working with another engineer to design a new portable computer. But other companies, such as Compaq, have beaten him to it. His start-up folded, but he recently secured a temporary contract to do IT work.”
Jo’s lawyer instincts stirred. “Are you having financial difficulties?” The words were out of her mouth before she heard the implication, and she flushed with embarrassment.
Tori’s lips curved in a wry smile. “No, Jo, I didn’t rob the bank because we needed money. To the best of my knowledge, neither of us is in dire financial straits. We keep our finances separate, though,” Tori said. “I’m earning about $60,000 a year, and Rick hopes his temporary contract will lead to a job with a salary.”
Jo reached out and touched Tori’s arm. The cotton of Tori’s sleeve felt soft beneath her fingertips. “I don’t believe for a second you would rob a bank, even if your finances were dire.”
Tori’s smile warmed, lighting up even her eyes. “Thank you.” The smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. “The thing is, I think Rick believes I did rob the bank.”
Jo narrowed her eyes, outrage bubbling up. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, you’ve been married for ten years. Doesn’t he know you at all? How could he even begin to imagine you robbing a bank?”
Tori put her hand over Jo’s, the warmth of her touch distracting Jo from her outrage.
“Thank you. I’m so grateful you’re here. It means so much to me.”
Jo looked down at their hands, touched by the depth and strength of Tori’s trust.
*
After lingering over takeout Indian food, Jo leaned back against the couch cushions, swallowing the last of her beer. I ought to ring Kate before I go to bed. The house carried the earthy smell of turmeric. Across the room, a rust-colored blur emerged from the shadows—the cat flowed across the hardwood floor, tail quivering as he vaulted onto Tori’s lap.
“Little con artist,” Tori murmured, her fingers working the velvety notch between his ears. “He appeared on my front porch one day. He had no collar or tags. I didn’t feed him, but he showed up every night for a week, meowing to be let in. Wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” She glanced at Jo and smiled. “Meet Orange Cat.”
Jo snorted. “Orange Cat?”
“Yes, really.”
The cat cast a slow glance from one to the other while kneading Tori’s thighs. His drifting, amber-eyed gaze unsettled Jo, as though he were deep in thought behind those languorous blinks.
Tori stroked him lovingly. “He’s very perceptive. Wakes me from nightmares. Makes me laugh with his antics.” She smiled. “Reminds me not to disappear into my head. And he’s loyal.” Tori met Jo’s eyes. “Like you.”
*
Jo climbed the stairs to her room, Orange Cat padding silently behind her, apparently accepting her presence. The cat had a knack for appearing at just the right moments, his amber eyes gleaming with curiosity. She shut the door behind her, but he slipped through before it clicked, leaping onto the bed as if he owned the place. Jo barely noticed. Her thoughts were on Kate.
She picked up the phone from the bedside and settled into the chair by the window. The line rang only once before Kate’s voice came through, warm and familiar. “Hiya, stranger.”
Jo grinned. “Have you been sitting by the phone waiting for my call?”
Kate laughed, a sound that always gave Jo a warm glow. “Yes, I hoped you’d call. I miss you.”
Jo smiled, letting the words sink in. It’s nice to be missed. “Sorry, I didn’t call last night,” she said. “It was late when I came up to bed, and I didn’t want to wake you.”
“So you got in touch with your friend?” Kate asked.
“I did,” she said. “The afternoon after we talked.”
“That’s a relief. Did you have a good visit?”
Jo hesitated, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the bedspread. “Um, there’s been a development.”
“Tori has switched teams and realized you’ve been the one for her all along?” Kate said, her tone only half-teasing.
Jo laughed. Even if Tori had undergone some miraculous epiphany, Jo wasn’t that naive young woman anymore—the one who’d fallen for straight women and women who couldn’t decide what they wanted.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Far from it. Tori’s in big trouble. She was in jail when I couldn’t reach her the other night. The FBI arrested her for bank robbery.”
“What?” Kate gasped. “Are you serious?”
“Yup,” Jo said, still grappling with it herself. “Shocking.”
There was a pause before Kate spoke, her voice cautious. “How well do you know this woman? You said it’s been five years since you last saw her.”
“That’s true,” Jo admitted. “But I know her well enough to say she’d never rob a bank.”
“Then why did they arrest her?”
“An anonymous tipster said she looked like the robber.”
“That’s all?” Kate sounded incredulous.
Jo remembered Tori’s paranoia about her line being tapped. “Listen,” she said, “I can’t explain everything right now. I promise to tell you the whole story when I get home.”
“Are you still coming home tomorrow?” Kate asked, a hopeful note creeping into her voice. “Shall I pick you up?”
Jo sighed, longing for their easy banter and Kate’s arms around her. But life had other plans.
“No,” she said reluctantly. “I’ll stay until the grand jury decides whether Tori goes to trial. Her husband’s a jerk, and she needs my support. I hope to God her case gets dropped for lack of evidence. A lot is riding on it—including my lawsuit.”
Kate huffed, but there was no real upset—just disappointment. “Okay,” she said, “But Sam already thinks you’ve abandoned him.”
