“How about answering the question?”
He chuckled softly. “You’re determined. I’ll give you that.”
“Are you going to tell me?”
Sighing, he shrugged. “The fact that he wouldn’t fight the charges, that he went to prison when he might not have had to if only he’d tried to avoid it, that he’s pulled away from her after they were always so close.”
Jasmine knew the last one probably hurt the most. “Why is Susan so convinced he didn’t kill Moreau? I understand there’s got to be a denial factor at play, but when an incident’s caught on tape—”
“Have you seen the tape?” Tom sat on the edge of the desk and crossed his arms.
“No, but I’ve talked to someone who did, and he acted as if there was no question. It was a cut-and-dried case of a father allowing his grief to provoke him into retaliating. And Romain knew how to use a gun.”
“He knows how to use a lot of weapons. But he didn’t do it,” Tom said.
“I’ve seen it happen to far less volatile men,” she pointed out.
“Romain never loses control.”
He’d lost control while they were making love. He’d forgotten to be angry and miserable. He’d cast all his cares aside and simply lived. She suspected that freedom had been so foreign to him he’d tried to destroy the happiness it brought afterward.
“Grief can get the better of anyone.”
“Perhaps. But my wife was walking with him as they moved out of the courthouse. She saw it happen.”
Her heartbeat suddenly erratic, Jasmine stepped closer. “And?”
“She claims Detective Huff fired his own gun.”
Could it be true? “If she’s right, why didn’t Romain say anything?”
“To be honest with you, I don’t think he remembers exactly what happened.
He was in an emotional tailspin. But he wouldn’t risk hurting some innocent bystander in order to assuage his own pain. You don’t know Romain very well if you think he could do that.”
“Did Susan tell him what she saw?”
“Of course. She pleaded with him before his trial, during his trial, even afterward. I was almost invisible during that time. Saving her brother was all she cared about.”
Jasmine was willing to bet that was when Tom’s affairs had started. Somehow, it all made sense, terribly sad sense. “He wouldn’t listen?”
“He wouldn’t listen.”
“What was his response to Susan?”
“He said he’d wanted to kill the bastard, and that in itself made him guilty.”
“If Huff shot him, why wouldn’t he come forward?”
Tom flicked a speck of dust off his khaki pants. “That’s obvious, isn’t it?”
Jasmine supposed it was, although she expected more from Huff. “And the motive?”
“That’s also obvious. After the embarrassment and humiliation of the trial, he knew he’d lose his job because of that pervert, and he snapped. Once the shot was fired and everyone swarmed Romain, he was probably terrified by what he’d done.”
“Terrified enough to let Romain take the blame.”
“I don’t think Huff had it planned that way, that he had it planned at all.
Romain just made it easy for him by doing what he always does.”
“Which is…?”
“Taking the heavy end.”
“But why would he do that in this situation?”
“Here’s what I figure. To him, it’d be the only thing that makes any sense. He was praying for justice and, thanks to Huff, he got it—along with the assurance that Moreau couldn’t hurt another child. He was satisfied, relieved, even grateful. At least Moreau’s death put an end to the matter. If Romain had to go to prison, it was just for two years. But if he stepped forward to say it was Huff, and they could prove it, the detective would be put away for life.”
It was something else that made a sad sort of sense. “I want to see that tape,” she said. “Do you know anyone who has a copy?”
“Romain does. Susan must’ve made fifty copies. She sent him one every week for a year.”
Jasmine wondered if he’d kept any of them. “Are you telling me all this because you love your brother-in-law—or because you hate him?” she asked.
“A little bit of both, I suppose.” Tom rubbed his perfectly smooth chin. “Are you going to tell the others why you’re really here?”
“I don’t see the need to upset everyone on Christmas Day, do you?”
“No. I don’t see the need.”
Maybe he wasn’t as drunk as she’d thought. With a smile, she reached out to touch his arm. “Forget the past and be the husband and father you could be,” she said.
A knock at the door interrupted before he could respond. “Tom?”
It was Susan. Dropping her hand, Jasmine turned just in time to see Romain’s sister open the door.
“Looking for me?” Tom asked.
Jasmine could tell he expected the worst—he’d set himself up for it—but if Romain’s sister was upset at finding them together, she didn’t reveal it. “We’re about to have dessert.”
Tom shot Jasmine a cryptic smile. “When Romain’s around, it takes her longer to come running.”
“For God’s sake, it’s Christmas,” Susan hissed.
Jasmine had planned to consider the information Tom had given her and leave it at that—for today. Although she knew she’d have to tell Romain about the notes, it seemed preferable to let his family enjoy the holiday in peace. But she couldn’t miss the opportunity to hear what Susan had to say about the shooting. Or to let Susan know it was what she and Tom had been discussing in private. “What did you see that day on the court steps?” she asked.
Susan’s eyes cut to her husband.
“She’s a forensic profiler researching her sister’s disappearance,” he explained.
“Does Romain know?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Then he wouldn’t want me to tell you what I saw.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s pointless now. He already paid the price. Why get Huff into trouble? That’s what he’d say.”
“And I’d say it’s important because you and I both know he might’ve killed the wrong man.”
A dark shadow passed over her face. “That’s what troubles me,” she said. “But Romain made me promise not to discuss it with anyone.”