Just Cause (15 page)

J
im Hight smiled as they entered his office in Waterville late Monday morning. He matched Laurel’s description: tall and lanky, with a deceptively boyish look and an unruly head of dark hair.

“Laurel. So glad you had a safe trip.”

“Thank you.” Laurel shook his hand and presented Dan.

“Ryan,” Hight said, sizing him up.

Dan measured him, too. For weeks he had weighed the idea of firing Hight and hiring a new attorney for Laurel, but now he felt they were allies. Dan thought he saw fight and persistence in Jim.

“We put out a few crumbs to the press this weekend,” Hight began when they were seated, “just to start people thinking of you as a wronged woman.”

“We saw it,” Dan said. “What can we do in the next three weeks to move things along?”

“My investigator’s been busy tracking down some of the character witnesses whose names Laurel gave me. These accusations by Renata Hatcher—that Laurel was a gold digger—may blow up in her face.” He looked at Laurel. “I contacted your old minister, and his testimony may be helpful.”

“Pastor Newman?”

“Yes. He remembered talking to you shortly before the murder. He’ll testify that you were concerned about Bob and wanted the pastor to speak to him. Newman keeps records of counseling sessions and had made a note to set something up with Bob, but before he had a chance, Bob was killed. He doesn’t for a minute think you did it, and he stressed that the session you had asked for wasn’t for marriage counseling. He said your marriage was rock-solid, but you felt Bob was troubled by something at work.”

Laurel nodded. “That’s right. I hoped Pastor Newman could help Bob, since he wouldn’t talk to me about it.”

“Why didn’t you bring this witness the last time?” Dan asked.

“Laurel didn’t tell me any of this.”

She raised her chin. “I didn’t think it was important to the case. Besides, the pastor was on an extended trip when Bob was killed. I made some poor decisions then, and—well, I was just plain afraid.”

“I think this witness will be helpful now,” Hight said earnestly to Dan. “It shows Laurel’s state of mind. She was trying to do things to help her marriage, not to end it.”

Laurel sighed. “I’d like to see Pastor Newman.”

“Can we?” Dan asked.

“I don’t see why not. Best not to discuss his testimony, though.”

Hight asked a secretary to call Newman while he went over the rest of the developments with Dan and Laurel.

“One more thing.” The lawyer eyed Dan. “I know it’s been two years, but we don’t want any rumors flying about Mrs. Hatcher’s current love life. I advise you to stay out of the public eye. Laurel, once the press knows you’re in the area, they’ll be after you, and if you’re photographed with a man, it won’t look good.”

Dan nodded. “We’ll try to keep out of the limelight.”

“Even eating out or going to the grocery store together,” Hight warned. “If Laurel were recognized…and heaven forbid anyone sees you going into a hotel room together.”

“We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” Dan said grimly.

“All right, I think that’s it for now. Come by tomorrow, and we’ll talk again.” Hight stood up.

“I’d like to help you with the investigation if I can,” Dan said.

Hight smiled. “I’ve got authorization to use you as an operative, for this case only, and I think we can work together. Relax today, and we’ll discuss it tomorrow.”

When they went into the outer office, the secretary said, “Mr. and Mrs. Newman would like you and Mr. Ryan to have lunch at their house.”

Laurel looked eagerly at Dan. “I’d like that.”

“Of course.”

They went to the car, and Laurel directed him to the neighboring town of Oakland. On the main street, they passed an imposing square building with a sign that was hard to miss. She felt light-headed and looked away.

Dan squinted at the building. “Hatcher & Brody!”

“That’s their main office.”

As they approached the church, Laurel’s nerves kicked up even more. She’d known this would be difficult, but she was unprepared for overpowering grief.

Matthew and Louise Newman came from the parsonage before Dan had stopped the car.

“Laurel, dear!” Louise hugged Laurel as she stepped from the car.

“Mrs. Newman,” Laurel choked. “It’s so good to see you.”

Dan shook hands with the couple. The Newmans drew them inside, and they sat at the kitchen table.

“I’m so glad your attorney called me,” the pastor said. “If I’d known I could have helped you before, I’d have done anything. We prayed so hard for you.”

“Matthew tried to find you after we read in the paper that you were released from jail,” Louise said. “It was as if you’d vanished.”

Laurel squeezed Louise’s hand. “That was intentional. I didn’t feel like I could come back here. Everyone assumed I did it.”

“No, that’s not so,” the pastor said. “Louise and I never thought you could hurt Bob.”

“We knew there was a problem,” Louise agreed, “but you were trying to support him. Of course you didn’t kill him!”

“Thank you,” said Laurel. “I ought to have come to you, I guess. I got such negative reactions everywhere I went, and Bob’s family turned totally against me. I wanted to get as far away from Oakland as I could.”

“Where are you staying?” Mr. Newman asked.

“We have rooms at a hotel in Augusta.”

“Come stay with us,” Louise urged.

“Oh, no, we couldn’t.”

“Of course you could,” Pastor Newman said. “The children are all gone now. We have plenty of room for you both.”

“My friend Judy is coming in a week, and we’ll be staying with her,” Laurel said.

“But this week?” Louise’s eyes were bright with hope.

“We’d be awfully close to the Hatcher family,” Dan reminded them. “If she stays in Oakland, word will get around.”

“Is that so awful?” the pastor asked.

“We don’t want the press hounding her.”

“We can be discreet,” Louise insisted.

Laurel felt a new optimism. “Let’s do it.”

Dan touched the back of her sweater lightly. “All right, I’ll run back to Augusta and check us both out. Would you like to visit the cemetery first?”

She drew a deep breath. “Yes. Thank you.”

The Newmans walked with them down the shady gravel access road between rows of grave markers.

Robert E. Hatcher, beloved son
. A bouquet of lemon lilies nestled at the base of the marker in the newer part of the cemetery.

“His parents put the stone there.” Laurel stooped, touching the letters with her fingers.

“Mrs. Hatcher comes every Saturday and leaves flowers,” Louise said.

Laurel stood abruptly, her hand at her lips, and stumbled down the gravel walk. Dan stared after her.

“I’ll start lunch,” Louise said. “She ought to have a bite before you go back to Augusta.” She and Pastor Newman turned toward the house.

Dan walked after Laurel, not trying to catch up, just keeping her in sight. At the far edge of the cemetery, she sat down on a white iron bench, and he strolled toward her.

“May I sit down?” he asked.

“I don’t think you’re allowed. Someone might see us together.”

Dan looked all around. No one was in sight, and he sat down and slipped his arm around her. Laurel took a deep, shaky breath, then with agonizing slowness lowered her head against his shoulder.

“It’s going to be all right,” he said.

“I don’t like you staying in Oakland,” Jim Hight said on Tuesday.

“We’ll be careful,” Dan said.

“Well, sunglasses won’t be enough if word gets out.” Hight opened a folder on his desk. “I think we’re making progress. The district attorney is starting to question why Renata Hatcher ended up with her daughter-in-law’s belongings, and I think the civil suit we filed against her and Wayne will go our way. They’re also looking pretty hard at Hatcher & Brody’s bidding procedures.”

“It’s about time,” Dan said.

“I’d love to get someone into Hatcher & Brody to look around.” Hight toyed with his pen. “Only trouble is, Wayne Hatcher knows my investigator, Ed Wilton.” He picked up the back section of the morning’s newspaper. “Of course, there is this.”

He slid the paper across the desk, and Dan read the circled advertisement.

“It’s perfect!”

“Thought that might interest you,” Hight said smugly.

Laurel leaned over to read the notice.

“They’re hiring security guards at H & B?” She looked from Jim to Dan.

Jim shrugged. “Guess they’re feeling insecure with all this hullabaloo about the trial, and with the D.A. poking around.”

The idea of Dan signing on to work for Wayne Hatcher and Jack Brody made her uneasy, but his eyes gleamed.

“It’s better than I’d hoped. I can get inside their offices legally.”

I can’t let him! Someone at H & B killed Bob and hired two criminals to find me!
She swallowed hard, knowing Dan’s mind was made up.

Jim eyed Dan speculatively. “I assume you have genuine references.”

Dan grinned. “Impeccable.”

Laurel frowned and slumped back in her chair. “Don’t you think that if there was something important in the office building they’d have found it by now? They wouldn’t need to chase me around looking for it.”

“Maybe.” Jim looked at the paper again. “Which office was Bob’s?”

“It’s on the second floor, off the elevator to the right, last door on the left.”

“We could go the safer route,” Jim said. “I could ask for a warrant and search the office.”

“Would the judge give it to you?” Dan asked.

“I don’t know. I’d hate for Wayne Hatcher to get wind of it and start covering his tracks.”

Dan stood. “Sounds like I’d better get over to Hatcher & Brody and apply for that job.”

Dan began working for Hatcher & Brody the next night, taking the graveyard shift at the construction company’s warehouse on the outskirts of Oakland. Laurel spent quiet mornings at the parsonage with Louise, while Dan slept in. Afternoons they rendezvoused with Hight and discussed the case, and in the evening they sat with the Newmans, enjoying their company. A couple of times Dan got his violin out and played hymns, with Louise accompanying him on the piano.

On Friday afternoon, he told Hight, “I haven’t found anything suspicious yet. If I could just get moved to the office building!”

“Hang in there,” said Hight.

Dan nodded. “I did volunteer for overtime. They’re giving me shifts this weekend.”

On Sunday, he was rewarded for his patience. The night man for the corporate offices called in sick.

“This is my chance,” he told Hight on the phone.

“All right,” Jim said. “Check out Bob’s old office, for sure. And if you have the opportunity, we also need to know who handles the bids and who orders the materials for projects. Who ordered the inferior steel for the Maple Grove bridge, for instance.”

When he came back to the parsonage shortly after seven in the morning, Dan was too excited to sleep.

“Let’s go see Jim first.”

At Hight’s office, Dan reported that he had been able to do a quick investigation in the file room.

“Wayne Hatcher came in just before midnight and stayed in his office for about an hour. But after he left, I found the materials orders for the latest project. The project manager’s signature and Jack Brody’s are on them.”

“Interesting,” said Jim. “I wonder if he signed the order for the bridge.”

“If they put me back in there, I’ll try to locate the older records,” Dan said. “They may all be computerized. If I had time to sit down at the computer, I could get into their financial and personnel records.”

“How about bids?” Jim asked.

“They’ve submitted bids on four projects this year, and got two. The main competitor on both the ones they landed was Simon Brothers.”

“What about the others?”

“Simon Brothers got a contract for a school addition in Bangor, and another company got one to take out a dam on the Sebasticook River. Simon didn’t bid on that one.”

“You think Hatcher & Brody could have had the school contract if they’d wanted it?”

Dan shrugged. “I couldn’t say. They’re busy enough without it. But they might have bid on it just to keep Simon Brothers from making more allegations of bid-fixing.”

“They must have a mole in Simon Brothers.” Jim leaned back in his chair. “Who would handle the bids?”

“The estimator and the project manager. The company president would have to give final approval, I’d think,” said Dan.

“No, I mean who actually held the bid in his hands after the numbers were decided on.”

Dan’s eyes narrowed. “A secretary? Someone has to type it up and mail it.”