MULTIPLE MOTIVES (The Kate Huntington mystery series Book 1) (20 page)

Fran frowned down at the front page, covered with Rob’s scribbles and REWRITE slashed across it. “Beth did
this
?”

“No. Tim.”

Fran rolled her eyes.

“I need Beth to fix it. Tell her I owe her, big time.”

“And two and three?” Fran asked.

“Take these back to Tim and tell him to rewrite them according to my notations.” He handed her a stack of papers. “And, would you mind getting me a sandwich from the deli?”

“No, problem. Ham and cheese on rye, extra pickles?”

“You know me too well, Fran.”

After a quick trip to the men’s room, Rob got back to work. When Fran brought in his sandwich and a soda, he barely paused long enough to mumble a thank you.

About an hour later, Fran stuck her head in his door again. He looked up and she came in.

“The correspondence you dictated last night is done. I took the liberty of signing and initialing them for you. You want any of these?” She waved pink message slips at him.

He jumped back in mock horror as if they were snakes. “Hell, no.”

Fran laughed. “Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow. I passed some on to associates.”

“What would I do without you?”

“Learn to type?” She looked meaningfully at his dark monitor on the far end of his desk. It was an ongoing but friendly battle between them. She was trying to drag him into the twenty-first century, but at least once a month the damn computer would eat something he was working on. Fran would have to figure out what random key he’d accidentally hit that had sent his half-written document to some dark corner of the hard drive.

“You need anything else before I go?”

Shocked, Rob looked at his watch. Ten after five. Where the hell had the afternoon gone? “No. Have a good evening.”

Three more hours before he’d have to head home for the war council. He wasn’t sure his eyes or temper would hold out that long, but he’d keep at it for awhile. Just to be on the safe side though, since he kept losing track of time, he pulled out his cell to call Lou.

He hated spending money to have Lou babysit his car, but he didn’t want to end up like Ed. Tears sprang into his eyes. He swiped at them with his fingers. The grief kept doing that to him, blind-siding him when he least expected it.

It took him a moment to realize Lou wasn’t answering. The damn phone had turned itself off. He pushed the power button. It flashed
low battery
, then turned off again. He stifled the temptation to throw it across the room. A quick rummage through his briefcase confirmed he had left his charger at home.

Picking up his desk phone, he dialed Lou’s cell.

“Yo, that you, Mr. F?”

“Yeah, Lou. I’m still working, but I keep getting into stuff and losing track of time. Can you call this number at eight… No, that won’t work.” The receptionist would switch the phones over to voicemail when she left at six.

Wait! Skip’ll be down there waiting for Kate. He can watch the car.

“Ya there, Mr. F?”

“Yes, I was just thinking this through. My cell phone battery’s dead. So if I’m not downstairs by a few minutes of eight, run upstairs and get me.”

“It safe for you to be up there after hours, Mr. F?”

“This is a law firm. There’s always somebody working late. And Mrs. Huntington and her police officer are down the hall. But I think I will lock my office door now that my assistant’s gone for the day.” Not that the flimsy lock would stop anybody, but no one could take him by surprise if they had to break the door down first.

“Okay, Mr. F. I’ll come an’ get ya by eight.”

“Thanks, Lou.”

Rob got up and locked his door, then sat back down and picked up the next document in pile two.

Great. Another Williams masterpiece.
But it didn’t need to be filed until Friday. He gleefully scrawled REWRITE on it and grabbed another document.

Hopefully he could get through most of these tonight. Tomorrow’s schedule was packed with meetings and court. And everything he was sending back for re-write would have to be reviewed again later in the week.

Aaargh, being stalked by a killer really messes with your workload!

~~~~~~~~

At seven-forty, Kate glanced quickly at the clock. Mr. Phelps would get upset with her if he caught her doing it. He was being particularly difficult tonight–very resistant, along with his normal paranoia. He kept changing the subject. It was getting on Kate’s nerves, but the last thing you could express to a paranoid client was anger.

Wonder if it’s a full moon tonight
.

She once again brought up the issue they’d been discussing. He changed the subject, again.

Hell with it. Go with the resistance
.

“You seem to be easily distracted tonight, Mr. Phelps. I’m wondering if we should stop a bit early?” She was sure he would accuse her of trying to cheat him out of his full hour. Then she’d gently point out that
he
was the one wasting his hour.

But he surprised her. “Yeah, I got a lot of stuff running around in my head tonight.”

She wasn’t about to start the pulling-teeth process of getting him to tell her what that stuff was, with–another quick glance at the clock–only fifteen minutes left in the session. Just about the point where she’d get him to open up, they’d be out of time.

Instead, she said, “Well, why don’t you work on sorting those things out and, if you’re still in mental overload next time, maybe I can help you get those thoughts organized.” One had to word things so very carefully with a paranoid client. Why had she let Pauline schedule him for last thing on a Tuesday night when her brain was tired?

Mr. Phelps looked at her suspiciously, trying to figure out if she was trying to pry into his head. Finally, he said, “Okay.” Kate walked him to the door.

He frowned at Rose, sitting in the waiting room. “I thought
I
was your last client.”

Kate smiled. “You are. She’s a friend. We’re going out for a late dinner.”

“Well, okay then.” He nodded at Rose and shuffled out the door.

Kate motioned Rose into her office. “Hang on one second.” She made a quick note in Mr. Phelps’ file to watch for signs of dementia.

Yeah
,
and how the hell are you going to broach that topic? Oh by the way, Mr. Phelps, could you possibly be going senile?

As she locked up his file, she told Rose a war council had been called for nine o’clock. They’d need to hurry, since she wanted to stop at her house first to get her files.

In the restroom, as Rose quickly changed into her uniform, she told Kate about her encounter with Phillips that morning. Trudow had indeed told him that Rose was carrying her spying assignment beyond the time she was on duty. “Phillips actually commended me on my initiative. Didn’t know he knew such a big word.”

Kate snorted in response, then checked her watch. Seven-fifty-three. She relaxed a bit. They should have enough time.

~~~~~~~~

Down the hall, Rob was working away. He quickly reviewed three documents prepared by other associates, then braced himself to tackle another gem from Williams.

Halfway into it, he glanced at his watch.

Eight-twenty-five!

He jumped up and started stuffing the document he’d been working on into his briefcase.

Where the hell is Lou? He probably fell asleep.

Rob opened his door and was greeted by silence. Where was everybody? Usually there were at least several people working late, preparing for court the next day or getting caught up on the perpetual paperwork.

The silence was making him nervous. Hypervigilant, he crossed the reception area. Opening the outer door cautiously, he stuck his head out just far enough to look up and down the hall. All clear. He took a step.

Searing pain in his back. His thoughts scrambled, he fell forward, limbs and muscles twitching. A sharp stab in his shoulder.

His mind cleared as a numbing sensation spread through his body. His last conscious thought was that he should’ve called Lou from his office phone to come get him.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Despite getting away from the office early, everything went downhill from there. At the house, Rose had to go through the process of checking the property. She carried the files out to her cruiser, then walked Kate to her replacement’s car and officially turned over her charge.

It was Officer Jackson again, the one Rose said had an attitude problem, although he’d seemed okay to her last night.

But tonight she realized what Rose had meant. When she told Jackson she was going to her friends’ house for the evening, he informed her that he was her protection, not her chauffeur. Standing next to his cruiser, she gave him the you’re-not-here-to-run-my-life speech. It had no impact.

Tamping down her anger, she weighed her options. She could take her own car, and force this guy to follow her, or she could ride with Skip. The latter was probably safer.

Her cell phone rang in her purse. She ignored it as she turned toward Skip’s Explorer down the block.

Jackson moved around the car to block her way. She glared at him. “Touch me and I’ll have your badge!” She took a step to dodge past him.

“Okay, get in the cruiser.” He stomped back to the driver’s door.

Once they were under way, Kate checked her phone. The missed call had been Liz. She hit the button to return the call. “Sorry I’m running late. I’ll be there in–”

“Rob’s not home yet!” Liz’s voice was frantic.

Worry shot through her. Her stomach clenched, then did a somersault. She put her hand on her abdomen, willing her body to settle down. She didn’t dare ask questions with Officer Obnoxious listening in. “My evening police guard is bringing me over,” she said into the phone so Liz would know why she couldn’t talk. “Be there in a few minutes.”

At the Franklins, she opened her door before the car had completely stopped. “Wait out here,” she ordered.

It was probably the wrong thing to say to a male cop with an attitude problem.

“Hell I will, lady.” Jackson opened his door and got out.

Kate gritted her teeth. She didn’t have time for this. She had to find out what was going on. She glared at him over the car roof. “There are bodyguards inside. I’ll be fine.”

The cop seemed unimpressed. He slammed his door.

“You follow me and I’ll….” she wasn’t quite sure how to finish the threat. The thought crossed her mind that she could shoot the asshole with the pistol Mac had insisted she carry in her purse.

Maybe it’s not a good idea for me to be armed after all.

She turned and marched toward the house. Jackson followed. When she reached the door, it opened and Liz yanked her inside, then closed the door in the officer’s face.

Kate turned the lock. “Is he here yet?” she asked, praying he’d just been delayed at the office.

“No!”

They heard a tapping noise in the family room, followed by a faint, “It’s Rose.” Kate hurried into the room but her father was already opening the door.

“Saw you arguing,” Rose said to Kate, then leaned down to put the boxes of files on the floor. “That guy’s the biggest….” Her voice trailed off when she turned around and got a good look at their faces.

“Rob’s not home. He should’ve been here an hour ago,” Kate told her.

“Not good.” For the first time since Kate had met her, the young woman looked scared.

“Okay, ladies, everybody sit down and take a deep breath,” Dan said.

Sitting down sounded good. Kate’s knees were about to give out. She wasn’t sure about the deep breath though. Her chest felt like it was in a vise. She pushed aside the horrible images popping into her mind, of Rob lying bleeding somewhere.

Kate was the only one who had followed her father’s advice. Liz continued to hobble around in circles on her ugly blue boot. Lord knew where her crutches were.

She spotted one of them, sticking up from the corner of the sofa. It looked like Liz had thrown it across the room, embedding it between the cushions.

Dan said, “Calm down now. Tis a bit soon to panic.”

“Men,” Rose muttered under her breath.

Kate knew what she meant. Her father fell into that category of old-fashioned males who tried to reassure women by downplaying the severity of the situation, not realizing they were insulting the woman’s intelligence. A killer was chasing them, and one of them was not where he was supposed to be. It was
most definitely
time to panic.

She couldn’t let her father take charge. Rob had said she was strong. Now she had to be, for his sake.

She stood up and grabbed Liz’s arm as she hobbled past. “You’ve called his cell?”

“A hundred times. Goes right to voicemail.”

“And Lou’s?”

“Rings a few times, then goes to voicemail.”

“Do you have Fran’s home number?” Liz nodded.

“Go call her. Find out when she left the office and if Rob was still there.” Kate grabbed the crutch out of its sofa-cushion holster and thrust it at her. “Dad, go with Liz and help her.”

For a second, he looked rebellious. Then the don’t-mess-with-me look she gave him must have changed his mind. He helped Liz hobble toward the kitchen.

Deep breath
, Kate told herself. Nope, her chest was still too tight.

She turned to Rose but the young woman was a step ahead of her. She already had her cell phone out and was punching 911. “This is Officer Hernandez. I have reason to believe that a man is in serious danger or has come to bodily harm at…”

Kate yanked her own phone from her purse and walked a few feet away, punching the speed dial number for Skip. “Rob’s missing!” she said without preamble. “Come around back to the family room door. There’s an asshole cop out front–”

“You mean the one who’s yakking on his cell?” Skip said in a disgusted voice. “Be right there.”

The Franklins’ house line rang. Kate grabbed it.

“Rob?” Mac’s voice.

“He’s missing! Have you heard from him?”

“Not since this morning. Been tryin’ his cell. Goes to voicemail.”