He picked up the phone and called Jenna. He owed her more than a text message for this extra digging. “I’m assuming you looked at Melissa anyway,” he said when she answered.
“You assume correctly,” she replied. “I understand wanting to get a full background on the client but that was a tangential search.”
“This case is different, trust me. Give me what you found on the chef.” He was hoping for some deep dark secret that would clear things up quickly.
“All-righty then. Our client was definitely tight with the chef. Nothing indicates there was a problem between them. Paige is really well-respected in Charleston and the general region.”
“The Coker family doesn’t do things halfway,” Carter said.
“That’s coming through loud and clear.”
So why hadn’t Jack sealed the records from Cora’s time in the psychiatric ward? It seemed like a strange oversight. Then again things must have been really horrible if his wife had attempted suicide. Was that due to discovering the affair or, as Paige believed, had her mother been depressed because they couldn’t get pregnant?
“Have you found a copy of Paige’s birth certificate?”
“I did. She was legally adopted through a private adoption,” Jenna reported. “It took a lot of digging to come up with the records behind the birth certificate on file.”
“Do you have any names of the people involved?” he asked.
“Yvette Salter is the birth mother. The attorney’s name is basically illegible and the law firm they used is no longer operating. I’m still unraveling that. You realize that if she is Jack Coker’s bio-daughter he wouldn’t have needed a formal adoption.”
One more twist to unwind. “Send me what you have on the law firm,” he said. “Please.”
“Sure thing. Are you ever going to ask me about the video evidence against our client?” Jenna wondered.
“That was my next question.”
“See, what I hear on this end is that you’re distracted,” Jenna stated. “She’s a real cutie but she’s not your type.”
“Oh really? What’s my type?” he asked, playing along.
Jenna chuckled. “I think you like them in bikinis and soaking up the sunshine on your boat.”
“I’m not opposed to hosting beautiful women of any variety on my boat.”
“Well, who would be?” Jenna shot back. “All I’m saying is I think you know better than to go looking for love in this particular stratosphere.”
“What I know best is not to go looking for love with a client.” He cleared his throat. “What did you find on that video?”
“Not anything too helpful.”
Carter swore under his breath.
“I couldn’t find anything in or around the crime scene that shows the woman using that gun. I will tell you at first glance the fingerprints match Paige’s.”
“That’s impossible. She wasn’t there.”
“I agree. The woman who was in that kitchen came in through the back door. I caught a glimpse of her on a traffic camera and worked my way to and from the time of the murder. I’ve looked and looked, but there’s no indication she is the one who brought in that gun. Regardless of that, the woman is definitely not Paige.”
“So how did her fingerprints get on the gun?” Carter wondered.
“That’s another curious glitch. I ran the print through another analysis and there aren’t enough points for a match that would hold up in court.”
“Okay, Jenna, pretend I’m stupid. What are you saying?”
“I’m saying the fingerprints are similar at first glance. They are not the same. Eventually the police forensics department will discover that. Or her lawyer will happily point it out in court.”
He hoped it didn’t come to that. “I’d rather they figure it out before the real killer gets away with murder.”
“Same,” Jenna agreed. “It’s your investigation, but in my opinion, you should focus on finding the woman in that kitchen with the vic.”
“About that,” Carter began. “I’m fairly sure the woman at the scene is Paige’s sister.” He swallowed. “Possibly her twin.”
“That would explain the nearly identical appearance and fingerprints,” Jenna said. “I’ll go digging for more birth records.”
“Thanks,” Carter said, ending the call.
If anyone could sort that out, it was Jenna. He scrubbed at his face. This case wasn’t nearly as cut and dried as he’d anticipated. A challenge was one thing, always welcome. But after only a few hours on the job, his connection here felt personal.
Never a good feeling for a man who took pride in maintaining a professional distance.
Chapter Six
The next morning, Paige was in the kitchen sipping her second cup of coffee when Carter walked in. She’d heard the shower running in the guest bath and done her best to ignore all thoughts of him. It hadn’t been easy.
“Morning,” she said.
He smiled and the tension in her shoulders eased a bit. She was so glad he was here, on her side. Not just because he was handsome and promised to get her out of this mess. More than that, he exuded reliability and stability. These days she needed an extra measure of both. Trusting Carter felt as natural as breathing.
Trust wasn’t easy for her. She’d learned early in life that her last name and her father’s money made her a target for potential friends who didn’t always like her. As early as middle school she could recognize her peers kissing up to her for one agenda or another. The worst was when their parents got in on the act. She could skillfully and politely divert unwanted attention, though it resulted in a persistent sense of isolation.
Better that than used.
The important thing was that now she could recognize true friends and keep them close. She couldn’t claim to know Carter in such a short time, but her intuition was guiding her to drop him straight into her “trusted friend” box.
“Coffee?” she offered.
“Yes, please.” He studied her. “It looks like you’ve been up for a while.”
“I gave up a couple of hours ago,” she said. “Too many bad dreams.”
“Understandable,” he said. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised. “We’re going to put the police on the right track.”
She wasn’t sure she even wanted to know how he planned to do that. But that hadn’t been what kept her up. “It’s going to sound petty to you,” she began, handing him the mug of fresh coffee. “I’ve been worrying over this party.”
She leaned back against the counter, her hands curled around the warmth of her mug, breathing in the rich aroma of the coffee. “Finding another chef won’t be difficult if it comes to that, because y’know, it’s a Coker event.”
He cocked an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt.
“Sometimes the name helps,” she said. “I feel like such a spoiled little rich girl because I don’t want to throw this party at all. My joy is gone. It marched off and took my motivation right along with it.”