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Rory Ayers sat at the conference table, staring at Mark.
A hard stare.
He shook his head.
“You have to be kidding!” he said.
“No, I’m sorry, I’m not. You didn’t tell us anything about this amazing, huge business deal you have going with your prospective son-in-law.”
“It’s not a done deal,” Ayers said flatly. “And what the hell difference does it make? Yes, he and I are both businessmen. And yes, I admire a savvy businessman! What could this have to do with anything?”
“Well, frankly, we’re wondering if this business deal colors the way you look at Gary Boynton,” Mark told him.
“Colors the way I look at him?”
“Maybe he did hurt your daughter,” Mark said quietly.
“Don’t be ridiculous! Oh, that is just... Well, that is pathetic. You people can’t come up with anything else? You’re inept.”
Mark hadn’t realized Angela had come in and was quietly standing in the doorway until she spoke.
“Inept enough to save your daughter—minutes before she would have died or been permanently brain damaged.”
Mark could see Ayers’s jaw clenching.
“Yes, you saved her. We’re grateful. But she was the victim. We were victims, and Gary Boynton was a victim! How dare you attack us!”
“Unfortunately, in crimes such as this, we have to look at the family and those close to the family.”
“Then go look at that long-haired hippie!” Ayers snapped. “Probably a jealous ass, just out to spite everyone and kill the girl who rejected him. Oh, that one! He saw himself as God’s gift to women. Strumming his guitar, all that crap! Go talk to him. Why would Gary want to hurt my daughter? He’s going to marry her. We’re the most copacetic group you’re ever going to meet. We know the power of hard work and responsibility!”
“I watched Mr. Monroe play. He’s very talented,” Mark said.
“Yeah, yeah, and he’s going to sell a million records one day. Sure. Doubtful. He’d want my daughter to work all her life. A million records? Maybe next lifetime. He’s no man for my daughter, and my wife will let you know as much!”
“Your wife felt the same way?”
Ayers waved a hand in the air. “Amelia...she likes everyone. And she’d give the house away, but she’s grateful I’m a harder nut to crack. Her parents did well and lost everything in a crash. She wanted to go to college, and she worked liked an idiot to try and pull it off—almost fell in with a druggie crowd of musicians! She knows we’re just lucky Gary fell for Dierdre the way he did. Why not? She’s a beautiful young woman.”
“I just wished you’d mentioned the business connection,” Mark said politely.
Angela was still standing at the doorway.
“We need all the information,” she said.
Ayers shook his head. “But that’s not pertinent to anything!”
“What came first, Mr. Ayers?” Mark asked. “The business deal or the romance?”
“They coincided,” Ayers said impatiently. “We were working on the deal. That’s how the two of them met. They’ve been together a long time now.”
“Wow. So, it’s a long deal.”
“It’s a complicated deal. And however tech savvy you people think you are here, you can’t begin to know just what the complications are! I came in. Now, I’m leaving. And you incompetent fools can get back to it. I can tell you—Gary Boynton did not attack my daughter! And that’s it. Your man in custody is the sicko and you know it! Why is this any different?”
“There was no letter to the media,” Angela said.
Mark leaned forward. “And there was no sexual assault before she was buried alive.”
“He didn’t have time, probably—he was holding another girl, right?”
“Yes, that is right.”
“Well, there you go. I’m leaving. And don’t bother me again! My daughter was the victim. Do you get that? The victim! Don’t keep making her a victim!”
Rory Ayers stormed out of the office.
Neither Angela nor Mark made a move to stop him.
Mark swiveled his chair to look at Angela, a question in his eyes, a dry grimace on his face.
“Well?”
“Sorry. I don’t like anyone who uses the term you people in any context.”
“Did he defend Boynton because the deal means more to him than his daughter?”
“That I don’t know. He did seem convinced. Any more ideas?”
“One, but I think we’ll go with that tomorrow,” Mark said. He glanced at his watch, and as he did, Colleen came into the office.
“Anything?” they both said.
Colleen shook her head and waited.
Both exchanged their information from the afternoon.
Mark sighed. “So. We’re going to take Megan Law to meet Sergeant Parker. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll have gotten something from one of his spiritual friends!”
