Hostile Witness

CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 39

"Archer. It's Jo. Call me back ASAP. Sooner than that. Call me." - Josie Baylor-Bates, 10:34 PM

"Hi there, Josie. What are you doing?"

Linda Rayburn's voice was so sweet she could have been greeting a lover. That lilt might have called him back to her bed or teased him into a favor or put him on notice that she was on to his game, but Linda Rayburn wasn't talking to a lover. She was calling to Josie who knelt on the floor of the spare room in a puddle of light from the lamp on the small table.

Josie stiffened when she heard that sultry, peppery voice. Her hands trembled and her stomach turned with a sudden sickness. Bad times were coming. The landlord was there, and the rent was due. Frozen in mid-air, Josie's hands hovered over the array of photographs she had ripped out of their file jackets and spread on the floor. Slowly, she sank back on her heels as Linda Rayburn circled around, towering over her, confident as could be.

"Did I leave the door open?"

Josie's eyes were steady as they met Linda's. There was no flicker of surprise, no current of fear to betray her astonishment at finding Linda standing in her home - uninvited, unexpected, and unwanted.

Linda's shoulders raised playfully, a coquette's apology. Her smile was charming and edgy.

"Nope. Front door's closed up tight," she said.

"I didn't know you could pick locks, Linda."

"Didn't have to, Josie. This isn't the most secure place in the world. You should have had someone take care of that broken pane on the back door. Easy as pie to get in."

Josie was lulled by the shadows in the room, Linda's casualness. Her jacket was zipped up so that the collar framed her face. Her cheeks were rosy red from the cold. She was wearing gloves. Josie didn't remember her wearing gloves while they walked. There was sand on the carpet. Linda's shoes had tracked sand into the house. Her shoes. Josie was looking at them - staring at them - when Linda laughed.

"Your game face isn't so good anymore, Josie," Linda chided. "There's something on your mind, and I have a feeling it just might have something to do with me."

"Not everything revolves around you, Linda." Josie tried to fake. Linda wasn't fooled. She chuckled.

"Oh, I think you're fibbing. I saw something change out there. You didn't think I noticed that? It was like a friggin' light bulb going on over your head." Linda leaned forward and pantomimed. The smile faded, her eyes hardened. "Why don't you just tell me what got your short hairs up? Does it have something to do with what you're looking at, Josie? What's that? There." Linda nudged the photographs with her toe. "That one. What's that one?"

Josie picked it up and held it out to Linda. It was self-explanatory but Josie said:

"You and Hannah by the fire truck." Linda took it. Her brow furrowed. "It was two o'clock in the morning when the fire broke out."

"I didn't exactly look my best." Linda let the photo flutter to the floor.

"You were dressed," Josie pointed out. "You were fully dressed, Linda."

"I threw some clothes on when I saw the fire. It's just a top and slacks, my shoes. It took a few seconds."

"But you saw Hannah start the fire," Josie reminded her. "That's what you testified to. You saw her. If you saw her, then you had to be dressed before the fire started. Then you had to be outside when the fire started. Why were you outside?"

Linda checked out her nails. She looked around and found little to interest her.

"Hannah looked in my room. I knew she did it every night. I followed her when she left."