Dead Certain - Mariah Stewart [100]
“He’s on his way up,” Leonard told them.
“Fine.” Sean gestured for Amanda to sit facing the door.
He took the seat next to her. Leonard would be seated on her other side, and the guard who was accompanying Lowell would sit on his side. There would be no chance for him to so much as reach out to touch her.
A sharp rap at the door was followed quickly by the door being pushed open. Archer Lowell took one or two uncertain steps into the room, then, seeing Amanda, his eyes widened.
“Uh-uh. No way. No one said she was going to be here.” He shook his head adamantly and tried to back out through the door. “I’m gonna be out of here in six weeks. The D.A. said if I so much as thought about her and he found out about it, he’d slap more time on me. Nope. Get me outta here. Take me back to my cell—”
Sean held up his hand. “Relax, Archer. I spoke with the D.A. this morning. He said we could have this meeting and it wouldn’t count against you.”
“I don’t believe it.” Archer refused to take another step closer, refused to even look in Amanda’s direction.
“Give me the phone,” Sean directed the guard, who passed it to him. “Do I need to dial a number to get an outside line?”
“Dial nine, then the number,” Corporal Leonard replied.
“Kathy? Sean Mercer, Broeder. Yes, thanks, fine. She’s fine, thank you. Is your boss in? Sure, thanks. I’ll wait.”
Sean stared at Lowell while he waited, stared until Lowell looked away. “Jack? I’m out at the prison with Archer Lowell. He needs your assurance that speaking with Ms. Crosby today will not be a violation of his sentence. . . . Yeah, here he is.”
Sean passed the phone to the guard, who held it up to Lowell’s ear, as Lowell’s hands were secured behind him.
“Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh . . . okay. But do I, like, get any time off for this? Hello?” Lowell made a face. “Dude hung up on me.”
“That dude could hold your life in his hands one day. You might want to be a little more respectful.” Sean took a file from his briefcase and placed it on the table. “Never know when you’re going to be going head-to-head with him, Archer.”
“Not me, man. Once I get out, I am never coming back.”
“Sure, sure. You all say that.”
“Yeah, well, I mean it. I’ve had enough of this place.” Lowell looked at Sean, but avoided so much as a glance in Amanda’s direction.
“So, Archer.” Sean crossed his arms over his chest. “I know how you knew Derek England . . .”
“Who?” Archer frowned, then nodded as if a little light had gone on someplace deep in the recesses of his memory. “Oh. You mean the dead guy you talked about last time?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t have nothing to do with him. I told you that. Shit, I been in here—”
“Yeah, we know where you’ve been.” Sean nodded. “How about Marian O’Connor?”
“Who?”
“Marian O’Connor. You remember her, Archer. She owned an antiques shop across from Amanda’s.”
“The busybody. Yeah, I remember her. What about her?”
“She’s been murdered.”
“Yeah, well, that’s got nothing to do with me.” Lowell shook his head. “I don’t know nothing about no murders.”
“Derek was my business partner. He was one of my best friends.” Amanda spoke for the first time since she’d entered the room. She’d had a few tremors when Lowell had first entered the room, but seeing his reaction to her—his fear at having her in the room—had somehow empowered her. It was a moment of great satisfaction when she realized that he was much more intimidated by her presence than she was by his. “Marian was a close friend, too. I loved them both.”
“Yeah, well, you used to love me, too,” Lowell sneered.
“You know that wasn’t true, Archer.” She forced a kind note into her voice, one she did not feel. It occurred to her then that she was grateful that his hands, the hands that had beaten her, were secured behind his back.
“I know that you betrayed me. You knew that I loved you. You let me think that you loved me—”
“Archer, that isn’t the way it was. Please try to remember the way it really was.” She pushed away the image