Risking Trust (20 page)

After clicking off, he tossed the phone onto the dash. “He got a call from Hollandsworth. They want to see me.” He slammed his open hand against the steering wheel. “Son of a bitch.”

“What do they want?”

“I don’t know. Arnie says they have follow-up questions from the polygraph.”

“What the fuck?” Vic said. “I thought you passed.”

Michael glanced into the rearview. “According to Arnie I passed. He said if I didn’t, they would have immediately started interrogating me. The cops aren’t going to tell me that though.”

“They probably just want to press you,” Roxann said, hoping she was right.
It had to be a ploy. Had to be.
She dialed Phil. “I’m calling Phil back to see if his source can give him anything. If that doesn’t work, I’ll call Max.”

Michael snorted. “Rox, you think he’s going to tell you anything?”

“I have no idea, but I’m going to ask him. It beats wondering.”

He checked the rearview again to get Vic’s attention. “If I get jammed up—”

“It’s not gonna happen.”

“Right. But if it does—”

“I’m on it.”

“What,” she said, “are you two talking about?” She held up a finger when Phil’s voice mail beeped. “It’s Roxann. Call me back A.S.A.P.”

Michael stopped at a red light and turned to her, held her gaze. “They might arrest me.”

That snapped it. She didn’t want to hear that from him. Despite their history, she was sliding headfirst into taking his side over Max’s and risking the reputation of the
Banner
.

Max hadn’t offered any solid proof that Michael was a murderer. And that constituted news. “They have nothing. What could they possibly hold you on?”

Vic grunted. “How about the two of you shut the hell up until he gets down there and sees what they want? They might be busting his balls and you two are having a coronary over it.”

“He’s right,” Michael said.

More than likely, he just didn’t want to discuss it any longer. Her phone rang.

“Saved by Phil,” Vic cracked.

She waved her hand at him and punched the button. “Hi. Michael just got called in for more questioning. Can you check with your source and see what’s up?”

“Call you back.” Phil hung up.

Roxann breathed deep and counted off ten.
Relax. Start at the toes. Tighten.
“He’ll call back.”

Three minutes later he did just that. “What’s up?”

“There’s a witness.”

“A
witness
?”

Michael swiveled his head in her direction.

“Whoa,” Vic yelled because they nearly rear-ended another car. “Pull over, Mike. I’m driving.”

Roxann snapped her fingers toward the side of the road and went back to Phil. “What did the witness see? Wait, hang on. Let me put you on speaker.”

Mike and Vic changed places, and Roxann hit the speaker button. “Okay, Phil.”

“A tall man went into the back door of Alicia Taylor’s house the night of the murder.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep.”

Vic made a face. “You got this, Mike. It’s nothing.”

Ten minutes later, they pulled in front of police headquarters where a group of reporters stood huddled around Arnie Stark.

“So,” she said. “Clearly they’ve leaked you’d be here.”

Michael dialed his phone. “Let me get Arnie in here. We’ll go for a ride and tell him about this witness before we go in.”

When Arnie climbed into the backseat, Michael introduced him to Vic and Roxann and they pulled from the curb at a leisurely pace.

Arnie gawked at Roxann. “
You’re
the publisher of the
Banner
? Christ, they don’t build publishers like they used to.”

The moment of levity shattered the tension inside her and she laughed. She immediately liked Arnie Stark.

“Here’s what we know,” Michael said. “Rox’s reporter has a P.D. source that told him the witness saw a tall guy going in the back door of the house the night of the murder.”

“Do we know what time?”

“He didn’t say,” Roxann said.

Michael snapped his fingers. “Hold up here. If it was dark, the witness couldn’t have gotten a good look at the guy. When Alicia and I were together, we never used that door and rarely turned the light on. I’d be shocked if that light was on.”

Arnie jerked his head. “This is easy to check out. I’ll get my investigator on it. Meanwhile, when we get in there, you keep your mouth shut. Let’s go have some fun.”

Michael marched into the same small, caustic room where he’d originally been questioned. Once again, he forced his heart rate down, breathed deep without making a show of it and prayed for a break here. Arnie tossed his briefcase on the table and got the loud bang he was hoping for. “What’s this about, gentlemen?”

Hollandsworth gestured to the chairs. “Have a seat.”

Sure. Why not? Considering Michael’s knees were shaking so badly he could barely hold himself up. Arnie scraped a chair back and dropped with a huff. Nothing but a bother, this being summoned.

For the first time since this mess started, Michael relaxed a fraction. Not only was Arnie Stark a top-notch attorney, he was a ball breaker to the nth and Michael knew he’d go to war for him.

“Mr. Taylor, a witness has come forward—”

Arnie lowered his head and stared at the detective over the rim of his glasses. “A witness? Where’s this witness been hiding all week?”

“Keep your shorts on, counselor,” Dowds said.

Hollandsworth held up his hand. “The witness saw a man, about Mr. Taylor’s height walking in the back door of Mrs. Taylor’s home.”

“What time was this?”

“Around 11:30 p.m.”

Arnie stood and tossed his notepad in his briefcase. “Let’s go, Mike.”

“Maybe your client wants to make a statement?”

“Please, detective. It’ll take three minutes for me to have my investigator confirm Mrs. Taylor’s porch light was not on. And you got a witness that says they saw a man, in the pitch black, about Mr. Taylor’s height—” He turned to Michael. “Let’s throw these boys a bone. How tall are you?”

“Six-one,” Michael said.

Arnie stuck out his bottom lip. “Huh, my brother is six-one. My neighbor is six-one. My
son
is six-one.” He held a finger up. “I have an idea. Let’s round up a bunch of guys who are six-one and put ’em in a lineup. With the lights off.”

The detectives stared at Arnie as if he were dog shit that somehow landed on their shoes. Despite the rampaging energy consuming him, Michael remained motionless. Not an inch of movement. He was way over his head and until Arnie told him to speak, he’d keep his mouth shut.

Arnie, from his standing position, did the over-the-glasses stare and swung his head from Dowds back to Hollandsworth. “You got anything besides this witness who saw a man who could have been half the men in this city?”

The detectives stayed silent and Arnie scooped up his briefcase.

“Let’s go, Mike.”

No problem, boss.
“Gentlemen,” he said, nodding to the detectives on his way out the door.

The internet carried three thousand references to the name Wingate and Roxann didn’t have enough time to go through each hit. Sure, she could go through and narrow the search, but the chances of her missing something important increased with each link she eliminated.

Damn.

She stood to stretch. Everything ached—her shoulders, her butt, her head. All of it. She glanced around her home office, growled at the files on top of her desk and decided tonight would not be the night to tackle them.

Good news—sort of—came earlier when Michael phoned to give her the details about his visit with the detectives. Still, it seemed they were grasping for something and right now, Max had shut her out. She’d have to rely on Phil’s source for any information.

The laptop chimed the arrival of an email and she stooped to check it. The pressmen had sent their response to her latest offer. Well, good for them because she hadn’t expected it until the following morning.

After the hectic day with Michael, did she really want to read this email? Who was she kidding? She could moan about the craziness with Michael and Vic, but it gave her a rush. That duo had a frenetic energy about them and it brought her alive again.

As much as she told herself not to fall for Michael, she’d done it and in a ridiculously limited amount of time.

She’d become a failure to control freaks worldwide.

Roxann sighed. Maybe those control freaks should try resisting a man who gave a struggling college student a stack of cash, or who managed to look movie star handsome while pounding out a five mile run. He could
sweat
sexy. Incredibly irritating.

And what about the splintered heart he’d left her with? She still didn’t have any answers from him and that was unacceptable. In fact, no more sex until he ’fessed up to why he left. She could do it. She could hold out. Just because she’d given in last night didn’t mean she was a shoo-in.

She couldn’t allow him to put her off on this subject. She deserved answers. No matter what his reasons were, even if it hurt her all these years later, she had to know. Not knowing had been easier with him out of her life. Now that he’d come back, those long buried emotions needed to be freed.

She stared at the email from the pressmen. It would be a counter-offer or she’d have received a call telling her they had agreed to
her
offer.

With her mood in the tank, she might as well read the email. Sitting down at her desk, she highlighted the important parts. Ten hour workday, four days a week
and
a pay increase. Ridiculous. She ran a
daily
newspaper. They needed pressmen seven days a week. If she gave them a four day work week she’d have to
hire
more pressmen to rotate in on the fifth, sixth and seventh days. The
Banner
would lose money across the board. No can do, boys.

The email had come from Rick Turnbull’s office. Rick was a decent union representative, but if she gave a little he’d take more. She dialed his number.

Voice mail.

It didn’t stop her from telling him she was rejecting their counter-offer. She’d given them a fair offer, one she had busted her butt on, and she’d had enough.

Could this be it? The final act that would make the dreaded strike a reality? Somehow, all the worrying that had gotten her here didn’t seem worth it. Weren’t they getting a newspaper out without presses? Weren’t they managing through?

She sat back in her chair and, oddly enough, smiled.

She could do this.

“I found Wingate,” Phil Dawson said and Roxann nearly kissed him full on the mouth.

It had been three days since she’d given Phil the Wingate tip and she’d begun to worry it was a dead end.

Excitement energized her and, amazed at the steadiness of her hand, she motioned for Phil to sit. “What is it?”

“
It’s
a
he
. Leland Wingate. He owns a construction company on the west side. I knew the name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t remember. I searched the
Banner
’s database and found an obit for Wingate’s father. The obit mentioned he was the founder of L&L Contracting.”

“Tell me they’ve done work for the mayor?”

“The city. They have a contract with streets and sanitation. Also, his son is rumored to be involved in racketeering. I called L&L, but the office manager is new and doesn’t know anything.” Phil held up a finger. “I did find the last office manager and—get this—she’s filing a sexual harassment suit against Leland Wingate.”

“Why does that matter?”

“She hates her old boss and gave me the name of an ex-foreman to talk to.” Phil flashed his teeth. “He’s the magic bullet. He won’t go on record, but Wingate is greasing the director of streets and sanitation by way of a hundred grand a year for the renewal of the contract. Plus, they’re short pouring the concrete—paid for by our fine city—on the sidewalks and using the extra for side jobs.”

“He’s making money on city funds?”

“Yep.”

“How does he know about the bribery?”

Phil scoffed, “He once made a delivery of ten grand in cash. That’s why he won’t go on record. He’s afraid he’ll be prosecuted. I told him I’d see what we could do. I think the guy wants to confess.”

Roxann rested her head against her chair. She had to think. Had to stay focused and not get wrapped up in what this might mean for Michael.
Concentrate on the story and what it means for the
Banner.

“So, is this what Alicia Taylor knew? Does it trail back to Carl or the mayor?”

Phil shook his head. “No. But I’m guessing the money’s floating up and Carl and the mayor are getting a piece.”

A vision of tomorrow’s front page with Leland Wingate’s picture on it flashed in her mind. Now they were getting places. “Maybe Carl confided in Alicia about it? Talk about motive. Is it enough to kill someone over?”

“I’m still digging. I need another source.”

Roxann put up a hand to high-five him. “Get one other person to confirm it and run that sucker. Front page, maybe even top of the fold. Nice work.”

Phil smiled full wattage. “Thanks, Roxann.”

“Can you lock it in before deadline?”

“I wrote the story already. If I can find a second source we’re good to go.”

She rose and walked him to the door. “Run it by Mitch. I’ll call him, but I want the lawyers to check it before it runs.” They didn’t need a libel suit on a story this big. “I’ll reach out to the state’s attorney and see if we can get your source a deal.”

“I think my source knows someone else who’s involved. If we get him a deal, I think he’ll give me a name.”

“Okay,” Roxann said. “I’ll see what I can do.”

She shut the door behind him and dove to the phone to call Michael. She’d give him the news then call her contact at the state’s attorney’s office.

If the
Banner
could prove Michael’s innocence it would be a win for the paper and for her. She’d be able to establish her worth as a publisher and maybe, just maybe she and Michael could have a fresh start.