The Sleeping Beauty Killer Page 4

  Great. She had two days to come up with a detailed pitch of Casey Carter’s wrongful conviction claim, even though she had no idea whether the woman was innocent or a killer. She needed to call Charlotte.

  7

  Laurie had just taken a seat on the wine-colored velvet sofa in Lady­form’s luxurious lobby when Charlotte appeared through a set of white double doors. She rose and gave Charlotte a quick hug.

  “We’re the same height today,” Charlotte observed cheerfully.

  “Thanks to my three-inch heels and your flats,” Laurie said. Charlotte was just shy of five-ten. She was slightly stocky but seemed confident in her own skin. Her chin-length light brown hair neatly framed her round, makeup-free face. Laurie thought of her as the perfect representative of her family’s company.

  “Thank you so much for seeing me on such short notice,” Laurie said, as Charlotte led the way to her office.

  “No problem. I could use the distraction. My mom’s flight from Seattle lands in an hour. And big news: Dad decided to come up from North Carolina. So as soon as we’re done here, I may need to break out the vodka.”

  “Oh dear. Is it that bad? They seemed to be getting along so well the last time I saw them.” More than getting along, Laurie thought. If the disappearance of Charlotte’s sister was what broke the couple apart, finding out the truth about what happened to their daughter seemed to have brought them back together again.

  “I’m kidding. Mostly. It’s almost like they’re dating each other. It’s very sweet. I just wish they’d get back together again, so they’d stop using visits to me as an excuse to see each other. Dad’s gotten better about trusting me with the company, but I still feel him looking over my shoulder when he’s here. Speaking of possible couples, how are things with Alex?”

  “Fine. Last I heard, he was fine.”

  In theory, Alex’s departure from the show had been strictly business, as he needed to return full-time to his law practice. But she’d only seen him once in the last month, and their “date” this Thursday was to watch the Giants game at his apartment with her father and son. It would be a late night, but Timmy’s school was off the next day for teachers’ meetings.

  “Message received,” Charlotte said. “When you called, you said it was about the show?”

  “Do you work with a woman named Angela Hart?”

  “Sure. She’s my marketing director, also one of my closest friends. Oh, I know why you’re here,” she said excitedly. “It must be about her cousin.”

  “So you know she’s related to Casey Carter?”

  “Of course. She has kept her connection to Casey quiet at work, but I knew that the reason she left early every other Friday wasn’t to go to the Hamptons as she claimed. She visited Casey faithfully. A few years ago, after too many martinis, I asked Angela point-blank: Did your cousin do it? She swore on her very life, with no hesitation, that Casey is innocent.”

  “Did she mention that Casey came to see me today? She wants to be featured on Under Suspicion. She even gave me a list of five alternative suspects that her defense attorney never really explored.”

  “I had no idea,” Charlotte said. “I’m not an expert on the case, but I was under the impression the evidence was compelling. I make a point never to share that observation with Angela, of course, but everyone in prison claims they didn’t do it.”

  “I know, but I can’t help being intrigued. It’s one thing to say you’re innocent, but she showed up in my office the very first day after she got out of prison. To tell you the truth, it reminded me of how I felt when your mother showed up asking for help. I couldn’t turn her away.”

  “Obviously, Angela might have a blind spot when it comes to her cousin, but would you like to speak to her?”

  “I was hoping you’d introduce us.”

  8

  The woman who arrived at Charlotte’s office two minutes later was stunningly beautiful. Her long, honey-colored hair fell in perfect waves, and when she smiled, her teeth literally sparkled behind strawberry-colored full lips. She was even taller than Charlotte, maybe six feet tall, and was trim and graceful. She had the same blue, almond-shaped eyes as her cousin Casey.

  She was juggling an armful of files and papers. “I drew up some tentative plans for the show, and I’ve got the warehouse lease. I negotiated a better rate, but we have to get the papers in by tomorrow morning.”

  She stopped suddenly when she saw that Charlotte had a visitor in her office. She freed one hand for a quick shake. “Angela Hart,” she said.

  Laurie introduced herself as the producer of Under Suspicion.

  Angela seemed to realize the connection to her cousin immediately. “I should have known she’d go charging forward. Once Casey puts her mind to something, she’s like a dog with a bone.”

  “She mentioned her interest in our show?”

  “We were barely in the car at the prison.”

  “You don’t sound particularly enthusiastic about the idea.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound so negative. I just wanted her to take a few days to think about it. Obviously, I know Charlotte’s family had a positive experience, so I was going to ask you about it today, Charlotte, and pass that on to Casey. But this lease situation got complicated—”

  “The space we normally use for our fall show had an electrical fire last week,” Charlotte explained. “We had to find an alternative on short notice. Complete nightmare.”

  “Charlotte said you’re in marketing here?” Laurie asked, realizing that she had jumped too abruptly into a discussion of the case.

  “Ever since Ladyform opened a New York office,” Angela said brightly. “Gosh, that’s more than twelve years. If it weren’t for Charlotte, I’d probably be wandering the streets, scrounging for cans and bottles.”

  “Stop it,” Charlotte said. “Any company would have been crazy not to hire you.”

  “Charlotte’s too kind,” Angela said. “The truth is, I was a washed-up model when she hired me. You hit thirty, and suddenly your best gigs are for girdles and wrinkle cream. I blanketed the entire city with résumés, searching for some other job in fashion, and couldn’t even get an interview. No degree. No job experience besides posing for a camera. Now I’m a forty-four-year-old woman with an actual career, all because Charlotte gave me a chance.”

  “Are you kidding?” Charlotte said. “You gave us a chance. I can’t imagine what you thought when you showed up for an interview to meet Amanda and me. We were just kids!”

  Laurie knew that Charlotte and her younger sister, Amanda, had been the ones to push Ladyform in a new direction with offices in New York City. What had once been a small, family-owned business manufacturing “foundational garments” became a go-to brand for women’s fashionable athletic attire.

  “Anyway,” Angela continued, “we had an hour-long interview and then wound up going next door to continue the conversation over wine. We’ve been pals ever since.”

  “I know the feeling,” Laurie said. “Charlotte and I met when my show handled her sister’s case, but she’s the one who made sure we stayed friends afterwards.”

  “For what it’s worth,” Charlotte said, “my family spent more than five years in a living hell, with no idea what happened to Amanda. Under Suspicion brought us out of that hell. Laurie could do the same for Casey.”

  “I know your show can unearth new evidence,” Angela said, “but my aunt and I are worried about adding to Casey’s notoriety. It would be one thing if this were ten years ago when she was still in prison. But she’s free now. She did her time. I understand Casey’s desire to convince people that she would never hurt a fly, let alone Hunter. She loved him dearly. But I don’t think she has any idea of how much the world has changed in the last fifteen years. If she thought the tabloid headlines were bad, wait until she sees what Twitter and Facebook will do to her. There’s s
omething to be said about leaving the past behind her.”

  “I take it that your aunt is Casey’s mother?” Laurie asked.

  Angela nodded. “Aunt Paula is Casey’s mother and my mom’s sister. But Casey and I were both only children, so we were very close growing up. I was probably five when I realized her full name was Katherine Carter, which meant we had different last names. I remember my mom having to explain that she wasn’t actually my baby sister.”

  “It must have been hard on you when she was convicted.”

  Angela sighed. “Absolutely devastating. I was so sure the jury would see the truth. I realize now how naive I was. She was only twenty-five years old then, barely out of college. Now she’s forty years old and has no idea how different things are now. She had a flip cell phone before she went to prison, and had no idea how to use my iPhone to look up something.”

  “Paula’s opposed to Casey doing my show?”

  “Extremely opposed. To be frank, I think Casey’s conviction killed her father prematurely. I worry about what the stress of the renewed attention will do to Paula.”

  Charlotte patted her friend’s hand supportively. “I had the same concerns about my parents when my mother convinced Laurie to look into Amanda’s disappearance. I thought it was time for them to move on. But now that they know what happened, they’re finally free from the limbo they lived in for five years.”

  Laurie had felt the same way after she learned the truth about Greg’s murder a year ago. Limbo was a perfect word to describe the state she’d been in until recently.

  “Were you at all involved in the case?” Laurie asked, shifting direction. “Did you know Hunter?”

  “Obviously I wasn’t there when he was killed,” Angela said. “But I saw both of them earlier that night at the gala for his foundation. And I was the first person she called from the country house when she found his body—after 911, of course. I had a photo shoot scheduled the next morning, but I hopped straight into my car. Even by the time I drove up to New Canaan, Connecticut, she was still completely out of it. It was obvious to me she had been drugged. In fact, I was the one who insisted that the police run a test on her blood. Sure enough, it turned up positive for both alcohol and Rohypnol. Would any sane person take Rohypnol on her own? Absolutely not. It’s not a recreational drug. It turns you into a zombie from what I’m told.”

  Laurie found herself thinking of her friend, Margaret, who had been convinced that someone had dropped a drug in her drink while they were at a bar together shortly after graduating from college. She remembered how Margaret described feeling like she was watching everything from outside her own body.

  “So you still believe Casey is innocent?”

  “Of course. That’s why she turned down a plea deal that would have had her out of prison with a six-year sentence.”

  “And if Casey and I wind up deciding to go forward with the show, will you help? As I understand it, you and her mother are the only people who have kept contact with her.”

  “Is there any way I can convince you to give her some time to adjust before she makes a final decision? This entire thing feels rushed.”

  “No, I’m afraid not. I have deadlines to meet.”

  “Be honest: You don’t really need Paula and me, do you? You’ll go forward regardless of what we think.”

  “Yes, as long as we have Casey and at least some of the alternative suspects.”

  “Then what can I say? I’ll continue to support Casey because that’s what I’ve always done. But I can tell you right now: Paula will be in your way at every step. She’s convinced Casey is making a terrible mistake.”

  “Well, I hope that isn’t true,” Laurie said. “And I’ll consider myself warned.”

  9

  Two days later, Laurie examined her face in the mirror of her bedroom vanity. She swore the crease between her eyebrows hadn’t been there yesterday. Was that possible? Could wrinkles literally appear overnight? She started to reach for concealer, but stopped. She preferred to look like herself, and if that meant a few more lines, she’d take them—not happily, but accepting nonetheless.

  In the mirror’s reflection she saw Timmy bound into her room, iPad in hand. “Mom, you’re going to get caught in traffic both ways. You need to leave Connecticut by three o’clock at the latest if you’re going to make it to Alex’s in time for kickoff. You’ll be stop-and-go all the way down the Bruckner.”

  She couldn’t believe how quickly her son was growing up. He had mastered all the online traffic apps while serving as backseat “navigator” during last month’s trip to Florida.

  She saw no need to tell him that she actually needed to hit the road even earlier. She had her meeting with Brett and his choice for her new host at four.

  She gave Timmy a quick hug before guiding him into the living room. “I’m the one who taught you never to be late, including to school,” she reminded him. “Get your shoes on and your backpack. And don’t forget your math assignment. It was on the coffee table last night.”

  While Timmy trudged back to his room, her father came in and handed her a mug of coffee. “I even remembered to use that horrible almond milk you’re so enamored with.”

  The truth was that she’d originally bought it hoping her father would take to it. Ever since he had two stents inserted in his right ventricle last year, he was following a heart-healthy diet, but still insisted on using pure cream in his coffee. Oh well, she thought, if anyone deserves a small vice, it’s my father. Six years ago, her father was NYPD First Deputy Police Commissioner Leo Farley, a potential contender to be the next commissioner. Then one late afternoon, while pushing Timmy on a swing, Laurie’s husband, Greg, was killed by a gunshot to the forehead. Laurie was suddenly a single mother with no idea who murdered her husband. Leo walked away from the job he loved, all for her and Timmy.

  Now he was about to walk Timmy to school, as he did every single day after walking the few blocks from his own apartment to pick up his grandson here. If he wanted cream in his coffee, he could have it.

  “I can tell Timmy’s excited to see Alex tonight,” he said.

  “Of course he is,” she said. “He adores Alex.”

  “We all do,” her father said. “Sorry,” he immediately added, “I wasn’t trying to make a point.”

  “I know, Dad, it’s fine.”

  It was an open secret that Leo wanted Laurie to find her happily-ever-after with Alex. Part of her desperately wanted that, too. But every time she thought she might be ready, she would picture Greg, and could feel herself pull back from Alex. Her husband still filled her heart to the point that she wondered whether there’d ever be room for someone else.

  Since leaving her show, Alex said he’d been keeping a busy travel schedule on a major case, but she knew why he hadn’t been picking up the phone. He had fallen in love with her and was keeping his distance until she was ready to feel the same way. She had to give him some space and hope he’d still be there if and when she could make a commitment.

  “Timmy said something about you going to a prison?” Leo asked. “What’s that about?”

  Timmy had a way of hearing only the most exciting words to escape his mother’s mouth. “I’m not literally visiting a prison, but I am seeing someone who was released on Tuesday. Dad, what do you remember about the Sleeping Beauty Killer?”

  “That she murdered a damn fine man and then tried to blame the police for railroading her. She should’ve gone to prison for life, but that jury got suckered into feeling sorry for her.” A worried look passed over his face. “Oh, Laurie, please tell me she’s not the one you’re meeting with.”

  10

  The screen of Laurie’s cell phone notified her that her car had arrived and was waiting on 94th Street, but Leo was still trying to persuade Laurie that the drive was a waste of time. “She’ll look you right in the eye, then lie to your face, j
ust like she did to the police when she was arrested.”

  She was starting to regret mentioning the reason for her trip to Connecticut. She gulped down the final sip of her coffee, needing every ounce of caffeine.

  “I haven’t made a decision yet,” she said.

  “I can already predict what Casey will tell you. She was drugged at the fundraiser by some unidentified stranger.”

  “I know, I know,” she said, checking her briefcase to make sure she had everything she needed for the day. “Her blood tests proved that she had consumed not only alcohol, but Rohypnol. She’ll tell me it’s what people call a roofie, used to incapacitate a victim, not as a recreational drug.”

  “Except she wasn’t drugged by a stranger, Laurie. She drugged herself so she could blame the crime on someone else.” Leo shook his head in disgust.

  “Dad, I have to go, okay? I promised Casey I would at least consider her case. You’re the one who taught me: Once you give your word—”

  “Well, why do you have to go today? Take some time and consider some other cases.”

  She wanted to say, Because Brett is breathing down my neck, but she didn’t want to give her father another reason to despise her boss. Her father was supportive to a fault. How many times had he told her that she could join any television team in the country? If you asked Leo, she should have had a cabinet filled with Emmy Awards and 60 Minutes was pining to recruit her.

  “Apparently Casey’s mother doesn’t want her going on my show.”

  “Smart woman,” he said emphatically. “She probably knows her daughter’s guilty.”

  “In any event, I’d prefer the chance to get to know her sooner rather than later, in the event I do decide to cover the case.”

  “Which I hope you absolutely won’t do.”