Just My Luck by Adele Parks (best romance books of all time txt) 📗

end of the night perhaps there was talk about pulling out of the lottery.”

“Perhaps?”

“Almost definitely. Sorry if I’m a bit vague. I didn’t want to admit to how much I’d had to drink, you can understand, didn’t want to appear like some sort of alki.” He laughed self-consciously. But then he stopped laughing altogether and in a strong, confident voice that did not catch in his throat, he declared, “I recall it clearly now. Jennifer agreed with the Pearsons, she said the lottery was common. She said Jake Greenwood was common. She was quite particular about that and I wanted to support her. So, yes, we all pulled out. Jennifer is not owed a penny and nor am I, regrettably. I’m afraid I can’t bring myself to support her story or the Pearsons’. It’s not fair on Lexi and Jake.”

“Do we even need to interview Jake Greenwood?” Gillian asked her boss, Mick. “I mean I think it’s quite obvious what’s happening here. It’s open-and-shut. I believe the Greenwoods. These so-called friends of theirs are a bunch of sharks. There are more holes in their stories than there are in my kitchen colander.”

Mick weighed up the situation. The money was already in the Greenwoods’ account. Some of it spent. The lottery company did not have a legal responsibility to do any more than pay out to the ticket holder, providing there was a reasonable proof that the ticket holder had bought the ticket. That was not in doubt. The lottery company was involving itself in an effort to de-escalate this situation. No one wanted a scandal.

All the lawyers in the room shuffled their papers. Gillian was right: there were a number of inconsistencies and now a mid-interview statement change.

“I agree we can all go home right now,” said Ms. Walsh. It was a hot day, her shirt was sticking to her back. She was imagining a long, cool shower.

Terrance Elliott, the Heathcotes’ lawyer, looked pained. He clearly thought they probably should call it a day, his clients having been the least reliable throughout the inquiry. He was disappointed. He had become embroiled in this because he thought the Heathcotes were good sorts—the type that paid their taxes, never cheated on insurance. Jennifer baked cakes for the school fair, Fred loaned out his power tools to his neighbors. They followed these rudimentary human standards. He hadn’t wanted to see them cheated. However, it soon became apparent that their morality was vague and untested. When Jennifer claimed she was in the loo at the most significant point in the evening, he’d gathered it was because she didn’t want to tell a lie but nor did she want to sell her husband up the swanny, either. Mr. Elliott had rather admired her for that. Even if she wasn’t being scrupulously honest, she was being loyal. But then Fred changed his story, admitted he’d had a few and that they had left the syndicate after all. Rather embarrassing for all concerned. Terrance Elliott didn’t want to judge, but he also didn’t want to risk his own reputation. It was obvious that the Heathcotes and Pearsons had pulled out of the lottery. Damned bad luck, but there you had it.

“I’d like to interview Mr. Greenwood,” insisted Piper-Dunn. “There still might be a case.” He was an experienced lawyer and knew that perhaps the Heathcotes’ unreliability could work in the Pearsons’ favor. Confusion could be a friend of the lawyer. Results could stand very proudly apart from either justice or truth. Clarity was the killer.

Mick Hutch sighed. “I think you are most probably right, Gillian, but we ought to talk to Jake, if only to be seen to be fair and consistent. We’ve spoken to everyone else.”

Gillian stood up and opened the door to the hot, stuffy room. Jake Greenwood was sitting on a bench outside. She beckoned him in.

“Mr. Greenwood. Thank you for your patience, and thank you for agreeing to talk to us about the night in question.”

Gillian was being playful using the hackneyed phrase “the night in question.” She thought Jake was a bit of a joker. Not a joke. He was too attractive for women to think of him as a joke but certainly someone who liked to have a bit of fun. She wanted to put him at ease in order to get the best from him. She wasn’t certain he would be his own strongest advocate. She had been able to depend on Lexi to present herself well, but Jake was less careful. She sensed he played things a little fast and loose; she wondered whether this was a new thing—since the lottery win—or was an established trait. People interested Gillian. Through her work she came across different sorts from all walks of life.

Jake flung himself into a chair and leaned back in it, like a boy who didn’t want to be in a maths lesson. He listened to the introductions with a barely disguised sense of impatience. “You’ve already spoken to my wife, Lexi,” he stated.

“Yes, we have.”

“Then you know exactly what happened. I can’t imagine I can add anything more. We were both there. She’s good on details.”

“Well, yes. But we have interviewed the other two couples separately.”

“Because you are trying to catch them out?”

“Because we are trying to get to the bottom of this.”

“Same thing. They’ll trip themselves up. I bet their stories didn’t line up. Or if they did, that will just be because they have rehearsed.” Jake scoured the faces of the lawyers for clues as to what had been said, but they remained inscrutable.

“Okay, well, as you can imagine, we’re not in a position to tell you what they said just yet,” Gillian replied. “Not until the inquiry is over, but we would appreciate it if you could give your own account of Saturday the thirteenth of April.”

“They pulled out of the syndicate.”

“As simple as that?”

“Well, that’s the important bit, isn’t it? They are greedy monsters who are kicking themselves because they pulled out