Free Accused by Mark Gimenez Page B

more."
    "Cash?"
    "Yes."
    "What'd you buy?"
    "Stocks and bonds." She shrugged. "What else? Clothes and jewelry."
    "Did he give you money that day?"
    She nodded. "He was going to the club to practice all day, for the Open. He told me to go to Houston, buy something sexy. I guess because he was planning to propose that night."
    "What'd you buy that day?"
    "The necessities—lingerie and shoes."
    "Where?"
    "Victoria's Secret, Jimmy Choo … at the Galleria."
    "When did you return?"
    "About six. Then we went to dinner."
    "Are you in his will?"
    "I never asked."
    "Why not?"
    "I wasn't his wife." Rebecca held an envelope out to Scott. "Here's that letter, from Terri's lawyer."
    Scott removed and read the letter. A Galveston lawyer named Melvyn Burke was representing the Estate of Trey Rawlins. Trey had died intestate—without a will—which made Terri Rawlins, his sister and only surviving relative, the sole beneficiary of his estate. Everything Trey owned would go to her. Rebecca would get nothing. Melvyn Burke instructed Rebecca not to enter the house or to remove any of the contents thereof. He also advised that she was not invited to Trey's funeral services and would not be allowed to enter the church.
    "You ever meet this Melvyn Burke?"
    Rebecca shook her head. "I didn't know Trey had a lawyer on the Island."
    Karen continued her interview of Rebecca. "So you didn't stand to gain financially from Trey's death?"
    " Gain? I've got nothing now. No house, no car, no money, no clothes, no jewelry—nothing."
    "You have a child who still loves you."
    The two women regarded each other like fighters facing off before a boxing match. Rebecca finally broke away and glanced up at Scott, as if hoping he'd come to her defense. He couldn't. He could defend her against a murder charge, but not against deserting her child. She sighed and turned back to her pregnant interrogator.
    "Karen, don't judge me as a mother until you've been one for a while."
    Karen's eyes dropped to her belly for a moment, then she looked back at Rebecca.
    "That last night, did you and Trey have sex?"
    " Karen. "
    Rebecca again glanced up at Scott.
    "Goes to motive."
    She sighed again. "Yes."
    "Where?" Karen asked.
    "On the beach. There's never anyone out here now, since Ike."
    "What were you wearing?"
    "Lingerie I bought that day."
    "What exactly?"
    She ducked her eyes. "White silk babydoll and matching thong."
    "Did you change before you went to bed?"
    "No. Why?"
    "DNA. His. To prove up the sex."
    "They took my clothes, the police."
    Karen nodded. "Evidence. Were any valuables missing from the house?"
    "I don't know. They arrested me that morning, I haven't been back."
    "Were you and Trey here all week?"
    "We flew in Sunday night, from California."
    "Why wasn't he playing last week?"
    "He had just won the Challenge, he wanted to take a week off before the Open—the U.S. Open—to rest and practice. It's a major."
    Scott had heard enough. For now.
    "Karen," he said, "get a detailed timeline for that day, for Rebecca and Trey. We'll meet out here at the end of each day for status reports and strategy sessions."
    Scott turned to Bobby, who had been standing by the stairs and observing the interview.
    "Let's go meet the enemy."

TEN
    Galveston County Criminal District Attorney Rex Truitt focused through his black reading glasses and tied off a big blue squiggly lure. He seemed pleased.
    "Relaxes me."
    "Tying lures?" Scott said.
    "Fishing."
    "Good thing you live on an island."
    The D.A. looked like Ernest Hemingway with a law degree. He was sixty-three years old, burly, and BOI—born on the Island. His unruly hair and neat beard were white against ruddy skin that evidenced a long life lived on that sun-baked stretch of sand, except for seven years in Austin attending college and law school at the University of Texas. He had served as the D.A. for the last twenty-eight years and would retire in two. He wore a white short-sleeve shirt and a solid blue tie loosened at the