Rich Blood (Jason Rich #1)(30)

“No.”

“Who was it?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know.”

“Exactly what I said. I don’t know.”

Jason frowned. “What happened then?”

“I gave this man some money, and he gave me a ziplock bag with a gram of cocaine inside.”

“Jesus Christ, Jana.”

“Fuck you, J. J. You’re the addict, remember. So I did some coke because my family was falling apart and my husband was boning another woman. What’s your excuse?”

“How much did the gram cost?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“I don’t remember.”

Jason just stared at her.

“I don’t.”

He knew she was lying but decided not to push it. “Then what happened?”

“He got out of the car, and I drove to the Hampton Inn.”

Jason added that to his timeline on the notepad. “Why?”

Jana cleared her throat. “My husband was having an affair. I was lonely and angry.”

“You do any of the coke?”

“Two lines in the parking lot of the hotel. Another once I got inside my room.”

Jason made more notes. “Who’d you meet?”

“Does it matter?”

“Well, it could provide you a complete defense to the crime if whomever you met backs up your story.”

“No, it won’t,” Jana said. “They’re saying I paid Pike to kill Braxton. It doesn’t matter where I was. I could have stayed at Fire by the Lake. I could have been at the Hampton Inn. I could have been on fucking Mars.”

“Good point. But humor me. Who’d you meet at the hotel?”

She peered down at the table. “Tyson Cade.”

Jason felt a trickle of fear run through him as he remembered what Harry had told him. “The meth czar of Sand Mountain,” he announced. “Good grief, Jana. Why in the world would you get mixed up with a guy like that?”

She scowled at him. “When was the last time we spoke, Jason? Dad’s funeral? You abandoned me when I needed you most. When my world was falling down all around me. When my husband started conspiring to ruin everything I’d established in this town. I started doing coke to take the edge off and give me more energy for all of the bullshit I’m involved in. DAR. PTA. Hospital boards. Blah. Blah. Bullshit. Bullshit. And, yes, I was having sex with my supplier because I owed him money. There. Happy?”

“I thought Cade was a meth dealer.”

“Tyson does it all.”

“You always were attracted to talent. So is that what you did? You drove to the Hampton Inn and fucked Tyson Cade all night. Were there any other takers? Did any of his sergeants take a turn?”

He saw the slap coming and made no move to block it.

His face stung, and he stood and put his hands up. “All right, I’m sorry,” he said. “I went too far and I’m sorry. But if you hit me again, I’m out of here.”

“I’m not a whore, Jason. But I wasn’t going to be lonely on the Fourth of July. I wasn’t going to let that bastard defeat me, you understand?”

“What I understand . . . ,” Jason said, wiping his still hurting cheek, “is that you have one hell of a motive for murder. You were worried about a possible divorce. You were cheating on Braxton with a drug dealer. You believed your husband was cheating on you. You also thought he was about to cut off the financial gravy train, which you were using to buy cocaine and which you needed to pay off your dealer. That about cover it?”

She crossed her arms again and looked up at the ceiling.

“Jana?”

“Yes, that’s all true.”

“And this Pike fellow has confessed to the police that you paid him $15,000 to kill Braxton?”

“Yes,” Jana said, still staring upward. “He’s lying.”

“But you actually took fifteen grand out of your bank account just before the murder? So is that supposed to be some kind of crazy coincidence?” Jason did nothing to contain the exasperation in his voice.

“Either that or someone’s trying to frame me,” Jana hissed. “That’s the only explanation.”

“And I haven’t even gotten to the life insurance policy that I’m sure Braxton had. Had he changed the beneficiaries to Nola and Niecy yet, or were you still set to receive millions upon his death?”

Jana glanced at him and then looked back at the table. “I don’t know.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Jana, how in the hell is any lawyer supposed to defend you?”

“I didn’t ask any lawyer. I’m asking you. My brother.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment? Communication is a two-way street, Jana, and you haven’t spoken to me since Dad died either. You were a complete zero when I went through my divorce. If anything, you seemed happy about it.”

“Don’t blame me that you married a trashy redneck slut. You can take the girl out of Talladega . . . or should I say Dega, like the NASCAR blowhards do . . . but you can’t take the Dega out of the girl.”

“So says the girl who was messing around with a meth dealer the night her husband was murdered.” Jason got up and put his notepad in his briefcase. He couldn’t get to the door fast enough. “Good luck, Jana.”