Outfox - Page 116

“He deduced that, as a world traveler, you would be attracted to a sophisticated gentleman who would hand-deliver flowers even if it meant driving one hundred and fifty miles. Classy dresser. Gourmet cook. A man who appreciated expensive bourbon, all the finer things in life. Goodbye Daniel Knolls and his frizz, hello Jasper Ford with the cosmopolitan ponytail.”

When he finished, she looked at each of the men in turn. Their expressions were grave. All too apparent was the depth of their conviction that Jasper was the man they sought. She didn’t deny the allegations, didn’t defend her husband, because to do so would be tantamount to accepting the horrific implication that he was indeed their culprit.

Drex asked if Marian had ever confided to her anything about her friend Daniel Knolls.

“No.”

“Nothing?”

“She was a proud and private woman. If in fact the two of them had met online, she might not have wanted it known.”

“That fits,” Drex said. “He doesn’t want a woman who would be open about it and, by talking about it, put someone on to him. If not for Mike’s memory, he wouldn’t have found the thread.”

“Must have been a boon when you introduced him to Elaine Conner,” Mike said. “He didn’t have to work quite so hard.”

She bowed her head and massaged her brow. “Before coming downstairs I called Detective Locke. They’re certain that Elaine and the man onboard the yacht got into the dinghy together. His identity and fate are still unknown.”

“I know his identity,” Drex said. “It was Jasper, and he swam ashore. I’d bet my life on it.”

She wanted not to believe it. She wanted to hear from Jasper that he had changed his travel plans, had gone somewhere else, and, after spending a remorseful and restless night, was on his way home for a reconciliation.

She wanted to rewind the clock to when they were newlyweds and she didn’t harbor a single doubt as to his character. Or, if what these federal agents believed to be true, she would wish to revert to the life she’d had before meeting him.

But time couldn’t be reversed. This was her here-and-now, and she must face this calamity head-on.

She looked at Drex. “Say that’s true, that it was Jasper on the yacht with Elaine. How did he get to the marina? Locke told me that the taxi he took from the airport dropped him at a hotel out near there.”

“He didn’t check in,” Mike said.

Locke had also told her that. “According to Locke, Jasper instructed the taxi driver to let him out a distance from the entry. I can’t fathom why.”

“To avoid security cameras,” Drex said. “He had left a car either on the hotel property or somewhere in the vicinity. He drove it back to Isle of Palms, to a predetermined spot on one of the beaches. Remote. A place that would be dark as soon as the sun went down, but within reasonable walking distance of the marina.

“He went there on foot, chose his time, and managed to board the Laney Belle without being seen. If anyone had happened to see him, they would describe a man wearing an orange baseball cap, not a man with a gray ponytail.”

“Locke said that Elaine’s neighbors at the townhouse had seen her leaving it, alone, at around five-thirty. I suppose she and Jasper had a date to meet on the yacht.”

“Not necessarily,” Drex said. “He may have called her, told her that the two of you had squabbled, and asked if he could nurse his misery, or anger, on the yacht. Something like that.”

“She would have dropped what she was doing to lend him a shoulder.”

“He would have counted on that.”

“But Elaine would have been disinclined to take the boat out in bad weather.”

“Jasper appealed to her spirit of adventure. Or sweet-talked her. ‘Please, Elaine. The ocean air will clear my head.’ Once in open water, he convinced her that there was a malfunction of equipment, or an emergency onboard that spelled peril for them if they didn’t abandon ship. Somehow he persuaded her to get into the dinghy.”

“Without her cell phone? Or his?”

“Negligible,” he said without forethought. “He would have come up with something. The weather was interfering with cell service. They were out of service range. If she questioned him about the phones, providing a logical answer would have been easy. After he killed her—we won’t know until after the autopsy by what method—he swam to shore.”

“Clothed?”

“Possibly. But maybe after dispatching Elaine, he stripped down and used something to sink his clothes. He had a change waiting for him in the car on shore. I’d wager that those articles of clothing would be nothing like what the Jasper you know would wear.”

Gif said, “He was probably long gone by the time Elaine Conner’s body was discovered.”

Talia wanted to clamp her hands over her ears and hear no more. But she had to hear it, had to deal with it, had to prepare herself for accepting the unimaginable. “Everything you’ve said is plausible. But every bit of it is assumption.”

Tags: Sandra Brown Suspense
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