Murder Deja Vu

and gazed off into space, then shook her head. “That’s impossible, but—”
    “But what?” Clarence asked, sitting straighter. “What is it, Mrs. Ferrar? Please. I’m fighting for a man’s life. An innocent man who’s already served time and who’s trying in the only way he knows to prevent going back to prison.” He thought he was getting through to her. “However insignificant you think it might be, please tell me.”
    Betsy Ferrar looked off to the side, twirling a lock of curly hair around her finger. Her cheeks flushed even more, and she squinted as if trying to resurrect the scene from that night over twenty years ago.
    “I’d never gone out with Jordan before that night at the bar. I’d seen him around and thought he was cute. I was at the next table, and I overheard Reece Daughtry ask Karen if what they said was true. I didn’t know what he was talking about. Of course, I found out later. I’d been watching Jordan, hoping to connect with him. He’d been laughing before, but then he got quiet. He must have noticed my interest because he asked me to dance. He kept looking back at the table. I asked him what was happening, and he said something about a secret life. That you never really knew anyone. He seemed upset at first, then he bought me a couple of drinks and said everyone was going back to the Daughtry brothers’ apartment and would I like to go. I did. It was a neat place near Harvard Square. We were all drinking and having a good time, except for Reece and Karen. They were in the throes of a serious discussion. I told all this at the trial.”
    “Who else was there? Everyone you can remember.”
    “Jordan and me, of course, Reece and Karen, Reece’s brother and his fiancée, and two of his friends with another couple of girls—sorry, I don’t remember their names now.”
    “That’s all right. I have them. Then what happened?”
    “Jordan asked me to go back to the apartment where he was staying, and we left.”
    “And everyone was still there?”
    “I think they were getting ready to leave. Carl’s girlfriend felt sick, and he was going to take her home. He made arrangements to meet the others at another bar in Harvard Square.” She stopped. “Like I said, I told all this at the trial.”
    “No, you didn’t go into such detail. I have the transcript with me. Would you like to read what you said?”
    “You’re getting me confused. That’s what the defense attorney tried to do—get me confused.” She stood. “I can’t do this, Mr. Wright. I’m married, with a family. I don’t want this whole affair brought up again. It was a very trying time. I did the best I could at that trial. Everything I remembered.” Her words stopped her again, and she stared at Clarence.
    “Everything you remembered?” She slumped into her chair. Clarence could see her going back in time as clearly as if she spoke. “You’ve thought about this, haven’t you? Something you remembered?” She didn’t answer the question but continued her story.
    “Jordan was considerate that night. I had another drink when we went back to his place. He never made an advance on me, never even tried to kiss me. We talked, and I was sitting in the same chair the whole evening. The only thing is—”
    “What?”
    “I couldn’t believe how much time had passed. I was definitely a little dizzy from the drinks, and when I got back to my apartment I was sick. Violently sick. I remember thinking I wouldn’t drink like that again.”
    “You didn’t mention that during your testimony.”
    “It had no bearing on the case. All it would have done is make me look even worse.”
    “I think I know how you took sick, and I believe it had a lot to do with the case.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven
Dana’s Fifteen Minutes

    D ana sat in the parlor with Frank and Lana. She’d wanted to tell Reece to be careful, but he’d left before she woke. The place felt empty without him.
    “Shh, listen,” Frank said. “There’s a picture of Reece on TV. Oh, and who’s the lovely lady flashing on the screen? Sure looks like that cute gal Reece brought here the other day, doesn’t it, Lana?”
    Lana shushed Frank with a playful sock in his upper arm. “It’s not funny, Frank. She’s wanted for questioning by the FBI and the police.”
    “That’s her, all right,” Dana said. “Turn it up so I can hear what awful things they’re saying about her.”
    She listened as the talking head reported that no one had