Cross lifted his gaze from the badge. “What can I do for you?”
“We’re investigating the murder of Sara Miller. I believe you worked with Ms. Miller on an ad campaign for Fairchild Advertising.”
He frowned. “Ms. Miller is dead?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How?” His voice sounded rough and drowning in emotion.
“I can’t give any more details.”
“I had no idea.” His face tightened with grief.
Garrison stared at him, trying to gauge his genuineness. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you.”
Micah pushed a hand through his dark hair. “She was such a lovely young woman. God, I’m really sorry to hear about Sara. I liked her. She was smart and very efficient.” He extended his hand toward the sofa, and when Garrison sat so did he. “How can I help?”
“We’re trying to piece together the last twenty-four to forty-eight hours leading up to her disappearance. According to her boss you two were scheduled to have dinner on Tuesday night.”
He steepled his fingers. “Yes. Fairchild Advertising was making a big presentation to my board next week and she wanted to meet and make sure she’d covered all the creative bases.”
“Did she seem nervous or upset when you had dinner?”
“Not at all. It was business as usual.”
“Why the switch in advertising companies?”
“What made you ask that? ”
“Mr. Fairchild said that you contacted him about an ad campaign.”
“My father died eight months ago and now that I have complete reins of the company I’ve decided to change elements in the company. Father didn’t embrace change and the company had grown very stagnant in the last five to ten years.”
“Since your brother died?”
“Basically. When Josiah died, Dad was never the same. In the ways of the old world, a son was everything to a man.”
“Where was he born?”
“Kentucky. In the mountains. He was raised by his aunt and uncle. Wasn’t a happy home. He met my mother when they were young. Father did just about anything to make money. And he made a lot of it. ”
“Where is your mother now?”
A hint of sadness darkened his eyes. “She passed away when Josiah and I were thirteen.”
“Must have been hard.”
“We all had each other.”
“Illness?”
“A car accident.”
Garrison let a moment’s pause settle between them. “I’ve read a report on your brother’s death.”
Cross arched a brow. “Do you always dig so deeply into the lives of people you question during a homicide investigation?”
“Not generally. Can you tell me about what happened the night your brother died?”
“Why is this relevant?”
“Humor me. Please.”
Micah shrugged. “I was still at school in Washington, D.C. Even to this day I know only what my father and the police reported to me.”
“You didn’t go to Price.”
“No. Father believed it best that Josiah and I went to separate schools. Twins, especially identical twins, get lumped together a lot. He wanted us to be individuals.”
“You ever visit Price? ”
“Sure. I even met the infamous Eva Rayburn.”
“Really? What was your impression of her?”
“A nice kid. Quiet. Hard-working. To make extra money she helped the sorority house’s maid clean. The day I met her she and another girl were cleaning the house after a big party.”
“You two speak much?”
“Just the customary greeting. And I’ll admit I was curious about her. Josiah had mentioned the fact that she’d beat him in a school-wide debate a couple of weeks earlier. He wasn’t happy about it. Josiah hated to lose.”
“That wasn’t mentioned in the file.” Garrison knew Micah was holding back.
“No, I doubt it was.”
Darius had been careful to sanitize anything that pointed to his son’s temper. “What did your father tell you about your brother’s death?”
A furrow creased the smooth, pale skin of his forehead. “Again, how does this relate to Ms. Miller?”
“Bear with me.”
Cross shrugged. “Father called me weeping the night Josiah died.” He drew in a breath. “Dad didn’t rest until justice was served.”
Garrison checked his notes, flipping pages and pretending to read. “Eva Rayburn confessed to killing your brother after he attacked her.”
Cross nodded. “I remember her testimony. But the rape was never proven. In fact, my father’s attorney uncovered evidence that they were having an affair. ”
“Were they?”
“I don’t know.”
“You were at the trial?”
“No. My father sent me to Europe during the trial.” He sighed. “I do know she’s out of jail and back in Alexandria.”
“How do you know that? ”
“Father had put in a request with the bureau of prisons to notify us when she was released. As the victim’s family we had a right to know. They told me she had moved back to town.”
“How long have you known?”
“They told me days after she returned.”
“You must know that Ms. Miller was one of the girls that testified against Eva.”
He raised a brow. “She never said a word about that to me.”
“You don’t remember her at the trial?”
“I barely remember the trial at all. I was in Europe at the time.” Micah Cross was either a good actor or a great liar.
“Did you know Sara went to Price with your brother?”
“I did not. We never discussed colleges.”
“You know Ms. Rayburn is in Alexandria but you didn’t know Sara Miller went to Price?”
“That’s right.”
“What did you talk to Ms. Miller about?”
“Business. And the fact that she was leaving for Fairchild’s New York offices in a day or two and wouldn’t be back for a few weeks.”
“Did your brother have a history of violence?”
“He did. Father was good about hushing it up, but other girls made claims against Josiah. The judge didn’t have access to that information, but just looking at the list of Ms. Rayburn’s injuries, it was clear Josiah had lost his temper with her.”
“He ever lose his temper with you?”
Darkness settled in his gaze. “Again, what does any of this have to do with Sara Miller’s death?”
“Where were you two nights ago?”
“At a fund-raiser. Surrounded by fifty of my closest friends. Would you like a list?”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“I’ll have my secretary e-mail you a list.”
“Thanks.”
“My brother was murdered as was a colleague of mine. Why do I feel like a suspect?”
Garrison grinned. “I don’t know.”
Humming, Lou sat in the darkened basement in front of the fire that crackled and spit in the hearth. The flames danced and swayed, creating a hypnotic spell too hard to resist. By the firelight, Lou glanced down at the photo of the infant boy, so red-faced and prunelike in his first hours of life.
Stroking the image, Lou remembered the faint scent of milk that had clung to the boy and the way he gurgled when he’d eaten his fill and was ready for a nap.
“I lost you too young. Too young. And I hate them for taking you from me. My sweet, sweet boy.”
Lou’s weary eyes glistened with tears that pooled and spilled down cheeks made ruddy by the hot fire. “But we’re going to show them all they should have left us alone. They shouldn’t have taken you from me.”
Lou glanced up at the flames. The schedule was moving much faster than originally anticipated. The hope had been to draw out this process so that those that remained had time to worry and wonder if they were next. But the schedule had had to be changed because that other woman had planne
d an extended trip. Selfish bitch. So like all those sorority girls to do what they pleased even if it meant stepping on someone else’s toes.