Easy Innocence

Chapter 16

CRISP MORNING sunlight angled through the car window, highlighting the steam rising from Georgia's coffee. She watched it dissipate into tendrils of fog. She was parked a few houses away from Jeff Ramsey's home in Winnetka. A rehabbed Victorian on a quiet street off Willow, the house was large but not showy, and it blended well with the other homes on the block. She was surprised-she'd expected him to live on one of the private roads in Winnetka that were little more than driveways. She was grateful he didn't. It would have been tough to stake out.

She checked her watch. Barely seven. She didn't have to be here, but she felt more in control of a case when she could ID the people involved. Not that she ascribed motives to people based on their looks-people were consummate actors-but she liked to watch how they carried themselves, whether they looked you in the eye, how they interacted with others. And since she had no reason to contact the Ramseys directly and probably wouldn't get through if she tried, this was the best she could do.

She riffled through the pages she'd printed out last night. Thanks to Google and Kroll, a security company with a huge electronic database that she could access for a fee, she now had solid background on Jeff Ramsey. Raised in the New Jersey suburbs; graduated fourth in his high school class. Had a scholarship to Penn-the Wharton School-but majored in political science. Ended up at Columbia Law, where he met his wife, Janet. Worked his way through law school-at least partially-playing the piano at private parties and corporate events. Clerked for a federal judge in New York, then got hired by the DA's office where he emerged as a star trial lawyer with an impressive won-lost record. Came to Chicago four years ago in one of Daley's sweeps to find fresh talent.

His wife Janet was a lawyer, too, although she didn't practice. She was the Executive Director of the North Shore seniors organization. She was also active in local politics, and there were rumors she planned to run for the Village Caucus. Monica was their only child.

Two ambitious overachievers in one house. That could put stress on a marriage. Not to mention a teenage daughter.

The front door to the house swung open, and a man with wavy brown hair falling over his forehead came out. Georgia glanced down at the photo she'd printed out. Ramsey. He was followed by a young girl in jeans and a pink sweat shirt.

Monica was about five-four. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She hoisted a backpack on her shoulder and started down a bricked path to the street. She stopped when Ramsey called out to her. Georgia rolled down her window hoping to catch his words. She was still too far away, but Monica nodded, threw him a kiss, and proceeded to a red Honda Civic in front of the house. Wide-eyed, with a pug nose and bow-shaped lips, she was pretty in a fresh, wholesome way. She looked sweet, too. Not like someone who might club another girl over the head with a baseball bat. Then again, Ted Bundy had been a handsome charmer who walked with a cane.

Monica slid into the Honda, and Ramsey cut across the grass to the garage. He was average height and wore a blue pinstripe suit and a red tie, and he walked with an easy, charged grace. Georgia's throat suddenly went dry. He walked the way Matt did. It had made her smile, Matt's walk-until the day she watched him walk away from her.

Ramsey watched his daughter drive off, then raised the garage door and climbed into a silver Beamer. He backed out of the driveway and disappeared around the corner. Georgia considered hanging around to check out Janet Ramsey but decided it could wait. She finished her coffee, pitched the cup on the floor, and started her car. As she doubled back to Hibbard, she punched in Kelly's number on her cell. It was still early, and she reached his voice mail. Rather than leave a message, she hung up and headed for the gym.