Free The 13th Juror by John Lescroart Page B

worked while he went to medical school, and then he graduated and they just didn't get along.  I guess she was pretty unhappy about it at the time."
    "Did you figure in that?"
    She let herself pout, which struck Hardy as somewhat affected.  An act.  Jennifer Witt was not easy to figure out.
    Freeman prodded.  "So Larry's ex-wife, what was her name?"
    "Molly."
    "And, I ask again, were you in the picture when she and Larry broke up?"
    "Well, they were already having problems."
    Which answered that.
    "Did you mention Molly to the police?"
    "No.  I told you, she wouldn't have—"
    "Just covering bases, Jennifer."  Freeman jotted something on his pad, and Hardy came and sat back down.  "Anybody else who didn't care for Larry?  What about Tom?"  Jennifer's hot-tempered younger brother had left an impression.
    Again, that near jump, that blink, sitting up as though Freeman had slapped her.  "What about Tom?  How do you know about Tom?"
    Freeman ignored the reaction.  "What about him and Larry?"
    She shrugged.  "Larry and I never saw Tom a lot.  He's got such a chip on his shoulder."
    "Over money?"
    "I don't know what it is exactly.  Jealous of Larry, maybe."
    At Freeman's look, she hastened to correct herself.  "No, not that kind of jealous.  Really, what do you think I am?"
    Freeman leaned forward again.  "I don't know, Jennifer, that's what I'm trying to figure out.  You tell me how Tom was jealous.  Jealous enough to kill Larry?"
    The acting, if it was, suddenly stopped, and so did the fidgeting.  "Tom is mad at his life, I think.  He didn't have money, didn't go to college.  He feels like he doesn't have a chance and never did, but that doesn't mean—"
    "Like your father?"
    "I guess that's what Tom's afraid of, that he'll wind up like Dad.  Except my dad never wanted as much.  Also, it was a lot easier to get a house in those days, even if you were blue collar, and the house was enough for Dad.  But I think Tom saw it as… as a sort of prison.  I did, too, in a way, but I got out."
    "What does he do?  Tom?"
    "I don't think he does anything regularly.  I know he drives a forklift sometimes.  Does construction.  Whatever he can find, I guess."
    "And he resented Larry, and you, for having money?"
    "We didn't have that much, but I suppose yes.  And me for not having worked for it."
    "But now you do?"
    "What?"
    "Have money.  A good deal of money."
    She bit her lip, perhaps not understanding Freeman's implication?  Perhaps understanding it all too well?
    "What's that got to do with Tom?"
    "Maybe he tried to borrow some and Larry wouldn't go for it.  If Larry's gone, he's got a better chance, getting some from his sister alone."
    She shook her head.  "No."
    Freeman made another note.  Hardy decided he'd better check some alibis.  Maybe Glitsky could poke around, too — Abe often said that going behind the department's back was just what was needed to spice up the otherwise routine life of the homicide investigator.
    Freeman covered Jennifer's manicured hands with his own gnarled ones.  "You know," he said, "I'm kinder and gentler than any prosecuting attorney will be.  These aren't even the hard questions, Jennifer.  These are in your favor.  The prosecutor's won't be."
    She half-turned, stretching the jumpsuit against her body, showing a fine profile.  She smiled thinly — was she trying for effect?  "That's really good to know," she said.  "I can't wait for the hard ones."
    "Okay."  Freeman's hands came away and his smile was not friendly.  "Since you can't wait, how about this?  Were you having an affair?"
    Jennifer's shock seemed a near-caricature.  "What?  When?  With who?"
    "Whenever.  With anybody."
    She drilled Freeman with direct-eye contact.  "No.  Of course not.  Absolutely not."
    "When?"
    "When what?"
    "When weren't you having an affair?"
    But they had already done this.  Jennifer withered the old lawyer with another look.  "When did you stop beating your dog,