Hostile Witness

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 11

Kip Rayburn was nothing to look at. He wasn't unattractive, simply unmemorable. Light brown hair and not much of it; narrow face and not much to it. He had a slight body that let his clothes hang well but without flair. Yet, Kip Rayburn compensated for his ordinariness. His power was there in the way he stood on the fringe, instead of presenting himself front and center. There was power in his money. There was power now in his nomination.

"Josie, this is my husband, Kip."

Linda touched Josie's arm, then she turned and raised her hand toward her husband. She was a veritable Vanna White in the game of domesticity. Josie had too much to do to play along, so she walked across the huge living room and put out her hand.

"It's good to finally meet you. I'm glad we could all get together," she said.

Kip did a once over and seemed to frankly find her lacking. He didn't like her casualness, her athletic and boyish figure, and her less than classic features. Maybe he didn't like the fact that she wasn't as impressed with him as everyone else seemed to be these days. Still, he hid his feelings under a thin blanket of hospitality, and smiled perfunctorily.

"Some of my colleagues know your work. I understand it was impressive," he said by way of greeting.

"It still is." Without waiting to be asked, she sat in a horseshoe chair and put her portfolio at her feet. "Congratulations on your nomination."

"Thank you. I hope I can live up to the honor." Kip settled on the curved sofa and put both his arms across the back. The pose did nothing for him. "I was going to take over a partnership interest in Rayburn & Frank, but public service is a great opportunity."

"Your father would be proud if you followed either one, I'm sure."

With that, Kip Rayburn changed. One arm came down and rested in his lap, closing him off, the other dropped to the cushion. He crossed his legs. The mention of his father made Kip seem less than master in this house.

"Linda," Kip said. "Will you get us something to drink? Hannah could help you."

"Sure, honey. What do you want?" Linda asked.

"A glass of wine."

"Josie, what can I get you?"

"Nothing, thanks." Josie's eyes flickered to Hannah.

Linda stood up and summoned her daughter. "Hannah?"

"I don't want anything." She crossed her legs and sank to the floor next to Josie, close to Josie.

"Hannah." Linda was sharp. This was no request; it was a command. Hannah stiffened, sitting up straighter. One finger jumped as it tapped frenetically against her knee. Finally, reluctantly, Hannah acquiesced and followed her mother. Josie waited until they were gone before talking to Kip.

"Don't you think keeping liquor here is a little hard for Hannah?" Josie raised a brow.

"The cabinet's locked. We're very clear on the consequences if Hannah steps out of line this time."

"I know the conditions of her bail are very specific," Josie commented, "but it might help her if you simply didn't have alcohol in the house."

"I'm referring to my conditions, Ms. Bates, in my home."

Kip's gaze was steady, his decision final. Josie had underestimated him. Perhaps Davidson had made a good choice in nominating Kip to replace his father. She backed off on Hannah and made small talk instead. She spoke about the house, Fritz's love of art, the huge black canvases slashed with red that were the judge's favorites, Fritz's real estate acumen, Fritz's -