The Bad Daughter(92)
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi.”
“How are you doing?”
“Not bad.”
“Not good,” Robin corrected.
“I’ve been better.”
“Are you eating?”
“A bit. Food’s not exactly gourmet. How about you?”
“I’m fine.”
“The others?”
“Fine.”
“Cassidy?”
“She’s doing well, all things considered.”
“Must have been quite a shock for her, seeing me,” Alec said. “Realizing I wasn’t who she thought I was.”
“Yes, that was quite a shock for all of us.”
Alec looked sheepish. “Sorry about that.”
Robin wondered how he’d been planning to handle seeing Cassidy again, but decided not to ask in case their conversation was being monitored.
“I guess I figured I’d be long gone by the time she got out of the hospital, and I wouldn’t have to see her at all,” he said, as if reading Robin’s mind.
She sighed, trying to decide what topics would be safe to broach.
“I didn’t do it, Robin,” he told her.
So much for that. “I know you didn’t.”
“Everything I told you that day was the truth.”
“I know. I believe you,” Robin said, knowing in her bones that no matter how bad it looked or how strong the evidence was against him, Alec was incapable of hurting anyone. She also understood that it was up to her, that she would have to work as hard to prove her brother’s innocence as the sheriff’s department was working to prove his guilt.
“I loved Tara,” Alec said. “She loved me. We were gonna build a life together.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Please tell Cassidy that I’m innocent, that I could never hurt her mother.”
“I will. I did.”
“Did she believe you?”
“I don’t know.”
The door opened and Brenda walked into the room, glancing pointedly at Alec as she walked past Robin and sat down on the stool next to hers. “Your brother’s hot,” she said out of the corner of her mouth as her boyfriend took a seat next to Alec and picked up his phone.
“Don’t look,” Robin heard Brenda tell her boyfriend, “but you’re sitting next to a real celebrity. The guy who shot his father and murdered his ex-girlfriend. Oh, and shot her kid, too. No, I’m not shitting you.”
“Robin?” Alec asked. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I just hate seeing you in this awful place.”
“You and me both.” He rubbed his jaw. “Did you speak to Prescott?”
“Yes.”
“Then you know about the ski mask the cops found in my apartment.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this,” Robin said.
“Why not? It’s a black ski mask, for fuck’s sake. Not some rare artifact. There must be a million like it around.”
“Why would you have one?”
“Why would I have one?” he repeated, looking at the ceiling in obvious frustration. “I ski, for God’s sake. The police found ski boots, too. Did the sheriff tell you that?”
Robin felt a rush of hope. “Since when do you ski?”
“Since after I left Red Bluff. I was depressed. Hell, I was almost suicidal. Thought skiing would be as good a way to kill myself as any. Discovered to my shock that I was actually good at it. And I loved it. It’s very therapeutic. You should try it.”
She smiled. “Maybe you’ll give me lessons when you get out.”
“Might not be for another thirty years.”
The smile froze on Robin’s lips. “Please don’t talk like that.”
“Sorry. A little jailhouse humor.”
“Not very funny.”
“There’s something else you should know.”
Robin held her breath. Had the search of Alec’s apartment turned up any other potentially incriminating evidence? “What else?”
“McAllister thinks they might be willing to offer me a deal.”
“What kind of deal?”
“He thinks the State might be willing to agree to a charge of murder two, providing I agree to name my accomplice.”
“But you didn’t do it. You don’t have an accomplice.”
Alec smiled. “Aye, there’s the rub.”
They sat for several seconds in silence. “So what are we going to do?” Robin said finally.
“There is no ‘we’ here, Robin. Just me. You need to pack your bags, grab your fiancé, and get your ass out of town.”
“No way. I’m not leaving until you’re out of here.”
“Yeah,” Alec said, “you are.” He stood up, the phone cord stretching into a straight line as he motioned for the deputy standing guard at the door.
“What are you doing? We still have lots of time.”
“Don’t come back, Robin. Get out of here while you can still breathe.”
“Alec…,” Robin called as the deputy led him from the room. But he didn’t stop, didn’t so much as turn around. She returned the phone to its receiver, then lowered her chin to her chest and cried.