Smash Cut (15 page)
Authors: Sandra Brown
Tags: #Legal, #Suspense, #Fiction, #General, #Georgia, #Thrillers, #Rich people, #Atlanta (Ga.), #Trials (Murder), #Legal stories, #Rich People - Georgia
D
ODGE WAS LEANING AGAINST THE WALL IN THE CORRIDOR outside the courtroom when Derek emerged. He looked antsy and in desperate need of nicotine. What took so freaking long?
I had to convince my client to take the deal the DA was offering.
Time served?
Plus two years. They got into the elevator and suspended conversation until they had exited the superior court building and Dodge was lighting up. The guy in the security camera picture, his names Billy Duke.
Says who?
Anonymous caller. Woman. Sounded young and nervous. Call came in a little after midnight and was traced to a pay phone. No one saw her, cause all the shops around there were closed at that hour.
Was she a lonesome lady wanting conversation, or was she for real?
Most lonely hearts call from home. They think she was legit. Dodge hawked up a wad of phlegm and spat it into the narrow band of landscaping against the building, then took another long pull on his cigarette.
Whats the but?
But Georgia DMV doesnt have a drivers license on any Billy or William Duke that fits. One William Wayne Duke here in Atlanta turned out to be a nineteen-year-old black guy. William S. Duke is white. Hes also eighty-four. It aint either of them in that photo. Another
Okay, Derek said, interrupting, knowing that Dodges information would be comprehensive and long in the telling. So where are the police in terms of locating him?
Still looking. Hes not on county or state tax rolls. Theyre running him through national databases, looking for tax returns, arrests, drivers licenses. In the meantime, Sanford and Kimball are on their way to see the Wheelers and Julie Rutledge to ask if they recognize the name, or ever heard the deceased mention it.
Doubtful, since they didnt recognize his face.
Dodge shrugged. He flicked his cigarette butt into the street and lit another.
Thats littering.
Sue me. He inhaled, exhaled, looked at his boss. So, Counselor, what are you thinking?
I dont know. I thought this would be a complete bust, that the guy in those pictures would turn out to be a shoe salesman from Cleveland, a solid citizen who may have fudged on his income taxes but wouldnt kill a fly, much less shoot a man in the head at point-blank range. I had a whole profile for him.
Derek ran his hand around the back of his neck, then propped his hands on his hips, as he tended to do when frustrated. Now I dont know. Could be that, the shoe salesman scenario. Could be the lonely woman syndrome, a spinster hoping some strapping young cop would trace the call to her and turn out to be the love of her life.
Could.
Or this Billy Duke could be the shooter.
You took the words right out of my mouth.
Derek reached for his cell phone and checked for messages, then dialed his office. While it was ringing, Dodge asked what he wanted him to do. Stay on it. Let me know as soon as you know something. Hey, Marlene. Derek waved Dodge off and started down the side walk in the opposite direction, toward the parking lot where hed left his car. He got two years. No, it goes in the win column. It couldve been a lot stiffer. Listen, call the Wheelers, please . Yeah, both of them. The wife, too. Arrange a meeting in my office . When? ASAP.
ODGE WAS LEANING AGAINST THE WALL IN THE CORRIDOR outside the courtroom when Derek emerged. He looked antsy and in desperate need of nicotine. What took so freaking long?
I had to convince my client to take the deal the DA was offering.
Time served?
Plus two years. They got into the elevator and suspended conversation until they had exited the superior court building and Dodge was lighting up. The guy in the security camera picture, his names Billy Duke.
Says who?
Anonymous caller. Woman. Sounded young and nervous. Call came in a little after midnight and was traced to a pay phone. No one saw her, cause all the shops around there were closed at that hour.
Was she a lonesome lady wanting conversation, or was she for real?
Most lonely hearts call from home. They think she was legit. Dodge hawked up a wad of phlegm and spat it into the narrow band of landscaping against the building, then took another long pull on his cigarette.
Whats the but?
But Georgia DMV doesnt have a drivers license on any Billy or William Duke that fits. One William Wayne Duke here in Atlanta turned out to be a nineteen-year-old black guy. William S. Duke is white. Hes also eighty-four. It aint either of them in that photo. Another
Okay, Derek said, interrupting, knowing that Dodges information would be comprehensive and long in the telling. So where are the police in terms of locating him?
Still looking. Hes not on county or state tax rolls. Theyre running him through national databases, looking for tax returns, arrests, drivers licenses. In the meantime, Sanford and Kimball are on their way to see the Wheelers and Julie Rutledge to ask if they recognize the name, or ever heard the deceased mention it.
Doubtful, since they didnt recognize his face.
Dodge shrugged. He flicked his cigarette butt into the street and lit another.
Thats littering.
Sue me. He inhaled, exhaled, looked at his boss. So, Counselor, what are you thinking?
I dont know. I thought this would be a complete bust, that the guy in those pictures would turn out to be a shoe salesman from Cleveland, a solid citizen who may have fudged on his income taxes but wouldnt kill a fly, much less shoot a man in the head at point-blank range. I had a whole profile for him.
Derek ran his hand around the back of his neck, then propped his hands on his hips, as he tended to do when frustrated. Now I dont know. Could be that, the shoe salesman scenario. Could be the lonely woman syndrome, a spinster hoping some strapping young cop would trace the call to her and turn out to be the love of her life.
Could.
Or this Billy Duke could be the shooter.
You took the words right out of my mouth.
Derek reached for his cell phone and checked for messages, then dialed his office. While it was ringing, Dodge asked what he wanted him to do. Stay on it. Let me know as soon as you know something. Hey, Marlene. Derek waved Dodge off and started down the side walk in the opposite direction, toward the parking lot where hed left his car. He got two years. No, it goes in the win column. It couldve been a lot stiffer. Listen, call the Wheelers, please . Yeah, both of them. The wife, too. Arrange a meeting in my office . When? ASAP.
Julie placed a call to Kate early that morning, asking that she come and drive her home from the Coulter House, promising to explain when she arrived. Kate was astonished to see her carrying the formal dress shed worn to the charity event. Its not what it looks like, Julie said as she slid into the front seat of Kates car. I promise.
She told her assistant only that her electricity had gone out and that, although it had been briefly restored, she hadnt trusted it to stay on throughout the night. It may be a damaged transformer in the neighborhood.
Kate didnt press for more information, but she wanted to know why Julie hadnt driven herself to the hotel. Not that I mind in the least picking you up.
My car was making a funny noise. I didnt want to chance it breaking down during the rainstorm. I called a cab.
Kate looked at her askance. Your electricity and your car? Youve got some bad karma working.
Julie forced a laugh. I must.
She got out at the curb and told Kate that she had some things to do before coming to the gallery, but that, if she was needed, she was reachable by phone. Once inside her house, she phoned her maid, who was scheduled only twice a week, and asked if it was possible for her to come that day, and to bring her husband to help her move heavy pieces of furniture.
I want the house thoroughly cleaned from the inside out. Every surface sanitized.
The couple arrived within half an hour. Julie sat by the front door, waiting for them. She was uncomfortable being in the house alone, feeling Creightons presence like a damp, fetid fog.
While the maid and her husband were dividing the labor and organizing their supplies, Julie went through each room, looking for ir regularities that might have escaped her notice last night. In the dining room, the paintings on the walls had been switched. The armchairs in the living room had been reversed. She discovered several subtle changes like that which only the individual who lived in the house would notice.
Creighton had been very clever that way.
His most overt prank was to leave an anatomically correct dildo, along with an unopened package of batteries and an illustrated instruction booklet, in the drawer of her bedside table. It disgusted her, but she was glad shed responded to her intuition to check all her drawers before turning the cleaning project over to her maid.
Julie assigned herself the job of laundering every article of clothing and collecting what couldnt be laundered to be sent to the dry cleaners. She was just finishing that chore when Kate called.
I just got off the phone with Detective Kimball. She and Sanford need to see you.
When?
As soon as possible, she said. I promised to notify you immediately.
Whats it about?
She didnt share that. She suggested they come here. Is that okay? Im supposed to call her back.
Ask them to give me an hour.
She told her assistant only that her electricity had gone out and that, although it had been briefly restored, she hadnt trusted it to stay on throughout the night. It may be a damaged transformer in the neighborhood.
Kate didnt press for more information, but she wanted to know why Julie hadnt driven herself to the hotel. Not that I mind in the least picking you up.
My car was making a funny noise. I didnt want to chance it breaking down during the rainstorm. I called a cab.
Kate looked at her askance. Your electricity and your car? Youve got some bad karma working.
Julie forced a laugh. I must.
She got out at the curb and told Kate that she had some things to do before coming to the gallery, but that, if she was needed, she was reachable by phone. Once inside her house, she phoned her maid, who was scheduled only twice a week, and asked if it was possible for her to come that day, and to bring her husband to help her move heavy pieces of furniture.
I want the house thoroughly cleaned from the inside out. Every surface sanitized.
The couple arrived within half an hour. Julie sat by the front door, waiting for them. She was uncomfortable being in the house alone, feeling Creightons presence like a damp, fetid fog.
While the maid and her husband were dividing the labor and organizing their supplies, Julie went through each room, looking for ir regularities that might have escaped her notice last night. In the dining room, the paintings on the walls had been switched. The armchairs in the living room had been reversed. She discovered several subtle changes like that which only the individual who lived in the house would notice.
Creighton had been very clever that way.
His most overt prank was to leave an anatomically correct dildo, along with an unopened package of batteries and an illustrated instruction booklet, in the drawer of her bedside table. It disgusted her, but she was glad shed responded to her intuition to check all her drawers before turning the cleaning project over to her maid.
Julie assigned herself the job of laundering every article of clothing and collecting what couldnt be laundered to be sent to the dry cleaners. She was just finishing that chore when Kate called.
I just got off the phone with Detective Kimball. She and Sanford need to see you.
When?
As soon as possible, she said. I promised to notify you immediately.
Whats it about?
She didnt share that. She suggested they come here. Is that okay? Im supposed to call her back.
Ask them to give me an hour.
The detectives were already at Chez Jean when Julie arrived, and so was her attorney, whom shed called as soon as she hung up from Kate. Fortunately hed been free.
Julie said, Have you been introduced?
The detectives mumbled disgruntled hellos as they shook hands with Ned Fulton, whod been recommended to her by Pauls corporate lawyer.
Kimball said to the attorney, This isnt an interrogation, Mr. Fulton. Youre superfluous.
My client doesnt think so, he returned blandly. Not after the sly allegation you made yesterday.
Kimball looked miffed but didnt say anything more.
Sanford got straight to the point. The hotline received a call late last night, he told them. The man in the photo was identified as Billy Duke.
Both detectives, Kate, and Ned Fulton turned to Julie.
Her reaction was to raise her shoulders. That name means nothing to me.
You sure? Kimball asked.
You dont have to answer, Fulton said.
Im happy to answer. I dont know anyone by that name.
Did Paul Wheeler? Kimball asked.
If he did, he never mentioned him to me. Ive never heard the name.
A derivative maybe? Bill or William, either first or last name?
Im sorry, no, Julie said. Who called to identify him?
We dont know. Sanford looked unhappy over having to admit that. The caller refused to identify herself.
Her
self. A woman?
Kimball nodded. Basically she said shed seen the picture on TV and knew the guy. Left his name with the policewoman and hung up. We traced the call to a pay phone, and immediately a squad car was dispatched, but by the time it got there, shed split. No one was around. The street was deserted.
Julie thought about it for a moment. Could it have been a crank call?
Possible, Sanford said. But it felt right to the policewoman, whod been answering crank calls since the telecast. She said the woman sounded young, a little scared. Short-winded, you know. Like she was nervous. Weve been doing follow-up since dawn.
And? Ned Fulton prompted.
And nothing so far, Sanford said.
Kimball went on to give them a rundown of the efforts being made to find Billy Duke, none of which had been successful. Well throw out a wider net, see what turns up. Even if we find him, doesnt mean hes our perp.
Ned Fulton stepped forward. Ms. Rutledge has said she doesnt recognize this mans name or face. Is there anything else?
The detectives silently consulted each other. Sanford said, I guess thats it for now. Looking at Julie, he added, Of course, if you should remember anything
I want to find this killer more than even you, Detective. If I had anything to contribute, believe me, I would.
As they made to leave, Kimball, showing her more human side, asked about the outcome of the charity event. Was it successful? Did the rain keep people away?
Luckily, it didnt start raining until it was over.
Good turnout then?
Very good, yes.
Did the painting bring as much as youd hoped?
Quietly Julie said, Much more actually.
Julie said, Have you been introduced?
The detectives mumbled disgruntled hellos as they shook hands with Ned Fulton, whod been recommended to her by Pauls corporate lawyer.
Kimball said to the attorney, This isnt an interrogation, Mr. Fulton. Youre superfluous.
My client doesnt think so, he returned blandly. Not after the sly allegation you made yesterday.
Kimball looked miffed but didnt say anything more.
Sanford got straight to the point. The hotline received a call late last night, he told them. The man in the photo was identified as Billy Duke.
Both detectives, Kate, and Ned Fulton turned to Julie.
Her reaction was to raise her shoulders. That name means nothing to me.
You sure? Kimball asked.
You dont have to answer, Fulton said.
Im happy to answer. I dont know anyone by that name.
Did Paul Wheeler? Kimball asked.
If he did, he never mentioned him to me. Ive never heard the name.
A derivative maybe? Bill or William, either first or last name?
Im sorry, no, Julie said. Who called to identify him?
We dont know. Sanford looked unhappy over having to admit that. The caller refused to identify herself.
Her
self. A woman?
Kimball nodded. Basically she said shed seen the picture on TV and knew the guy. Left his name with the policewoman and hung up. We traced the call to a pay phone, and immediately a squad car was dispatched, but by the time it got there, shed split. No one was around. The street was deserted.
Julie thought about it for a moment. Could it have been a crank call?
Possible, Sanford said. But it felt right to the policewoman, whod been answering crank calls since the telecast. She said the woman sounded young, a little scared. Short-winded, you know. Like she was nervous. Weve been doing follow-up since dawn.
And? Ned Fulton prompted.
And nothing so far, Sanford said.
Kimball went on to give them a rundown of the efforts being made to find Billy Duke, none of which had been successful. Well throw out a wider net, see what turns up. Even if we find him, doesnt mean hes our perp.
Ned Fulton stepped forward. Ms. Rutledge has said she doesnt recognize this mans name or face. Is there anything else?
The detectives silently consulted each other. Sanford said, I guess thats it for now. Looking at Julie, he added, Of course, if you should remember anything
I want to find this killer more than even you, Detective. If I had anything to contribute, believe me, I would.
As they made to leave, Kimball, showing her more human side, asked about the outcome of the charity event. Was it successful? Did the rain keep people away?
Luckily, it didnt start raining until it was over.
Good turnout then?
Very good, yes.
Did the painting bring as much as youd hoped?
Quietly Julie said, Much more actually.
Kimball got into the passenger seat of their unmarked car. Sanford drove. She asked, Well, what do you think?
I think this case is fucked up.
Thats your professional assessment? Thats what youre going to say to the chief when were called on the carpet to give an update of our progress?
Whyd she hire an attorney?
You sound cranky.
Im hot.
Turn up the air conditioner. He did. She adjusted the vents to blow on him. Better now?
Whyd she hire an attorney? he repeated, but in his more customary mellow tone.
Its the smart thing to do, Kimball replied. Wouldnt you?
He rolled his shoulders, more or less conceding that he would.
Shes being cautious. Doesnt mean shes guilty.
Doesnt mean shes innocent, either.
True. She sighed. But were reaching, Homer. Its a stretch for me to think she actually set Wheeler up to get shot. A, I believe she was nuts for the guy. B, she just doesnt seem the type.
What types that?
The type who would arrange a shooting like that.
You only think that because shes cultured and well dressed.
And were giving the prospect credulity only because we dont have anything better.
Weve got this Billy Duke. Well, we dont
have
him. Hell, you know what I mean.
Yeah. She sighed again. I know what you mean.
Sanford drove another block in thoughtful silence. Braking at a traffic light, he asked, Whyd she get all squirmy when you asked her about that shindig last night?
She laughed. Squirmy? Thats a new one.
Her voice lowered, her eyes shifted. She acted squirmy. How come, I wonder.
You think shes lying? Why would she lie about a charity auction, a painting?
Not lying, specifically, just
He was interrupted by Kimballs ringing cell phone. Hold the thought. She unhooked the phone from her belt and flipped it open. Kimball. Her eyes cut immediately to Sanford. Hello, Miss Fields. Kate.
Sanford looked over at her so fast, his neck popped. His eyebrows were raised in surprise and inquiry.
Kimball listened, said, Um-huh. Um-huh. Listened some more, then, Sure. When would you like to come in? Okay. Well be there. She snapped her phone closed. Well, well.
Julie Rutledges assistant? That Kate Fields?
The very one. She needs to talk to us about something important.
Did she say what?
Yeah. You were right. Her boss is squirmy.
I think this case is fucked up.
Thats your professional assessment? Thats what youre going to say to the chief when were called on the carpet to give an update of our progress?
Whyd she hire an attorney?
You sound cranky.
Im hot.
Turn up the air conditioner. He did. She adjusted the vents to blow on him. Better now?
Whyd she hire an attorney? he repeated, but in his more customary mellow tone.
Its the smart thing to do, Kimball replied. Wouldnt you?
He rolled his shoulders, more or less conceding that he would.
Shes being cautious. Doesnt mean shes guilty.
Doesnt mean shes innocent, either.
True. She sighed. But were reaching, Homer. Its a stretch for me to think she actually set Wheeler up to get shot. A, I believe she was nuts for the guy. B, she just doesnt seem the type.
What types that?
The type who would arrange a shooting like that.
You only think that because shes cultured and well dressed.
And were giving the prospect credulity only because we dont have anything better.
Weve got this Billy Duke. Well, we dont
have
him. Hell, you know what I mean.
Yeah. She sighed again. I know what you mean.
Sanford drove another block in thoughtful silence. Braking at a traffic light, he asked, Whyd she get all squirmy when you asked her about that shindig last night?
She laughed. Squirmy? Thats a new one.
Her voice lowered, her eyes shifted. She acted squirmy. How come, I wonder.
You think shes lying? Why would she lie about a charity auction, a painting?
Not lying, specifically, just
He was interrupted by Kimballs ringing cell phone. Hold the thought. She unhooked the phone from her belt and flipped it open. Kimball. Her eyes cut immediately to Sanford. Hello, Miss Fields. Kate.
Sanford looked over at her so fast, his neck popped. His eyebrows were raised in surprise and inquiry.
Kimball listened, said, Um-huh. Um-huh. Listened some more, then, Sure. When would you like to come in? Okay. Well be there. She snapped her phone closed. Well, well.
Julie Rutledges assistant? That Kate Fields?
The very one. She needs to talk to us about something important.
Did she say what?
Yeah. You were right. Her boss is squirmy.
Hes adorable!
She, Derek corrected. Maggie.
Hi, Maggie. Sharon Wheeler leaned down and scratched Maggie behind the ears. Ive never had a dog, but they always seem to like me.
She and Doug Wheeler had arrived at Dereks office minutes earlier, and she had taken an instant liking to Maggie. Doug had intro duced Sharon and Derek at the charity event. She was beautiful in a well-bred, well-packaged, Southern-belle way. But there was no substance to support the pretty exterior. Derek sensed she laughed even when she didnt quite get the joke. He imagined she moved through life feeling a bit lost but had become adept at covering her uncertainty with practiced charm.
Derek also surmised that Doug was well aware of his wifes vacuousness but loved her in spite of it. Smiling fondly, he watched her petting Maggie. Why dont we get a dog?
She beamed at him. Id love that.
Ah, the gangs all here. Creighton breezed through the door Marlene held open for him. Hello, Mother, Father. Mr. Mitchell. He clicked his heels and saluted Derek crisply. Reporting as ordered, sir.
Derek wanted to slam-dunk him straight through the floor and all the way to China. Did you break into Julie Rutledges house last night?
Exclamations erupted from both his parents, but Derek tuned them out. His focus was on Creighton. The younger man stared at him for several seconds, then turned his head to look behind him. Coming back around and perfectly mimicking De Niro, he said, You talkin to me? You talkin to me?
Answer the question.
Creighton snuffled a laugh. Oh, youre
serious
. I thought for sure you were joking.
Whats this about, Mr. Mitchell? Doug demanded.
Derek held Creightons placid stare for several seconds more, then turned to Doug. Never mind. Private joke. The reason I called you here was to give you a final piece of advice. Free advice, because Im returning all your money. He paused, then said, If any of you know this guy in the photo whos been identified as a Billy Duke, you should tell the police now.
Ive already told them I dont know him. Not by face or name, Doug said querulously. I could have told you that over the phone. He seemed perturbed by having been called away from work unnecessarily.
I no longer trust our telephone conversations, Mr. Wheeler, Derek said. I wanted to see you in person, so there could be no misunderstanding of my meaning. Despite the large sum of money you deposited into my account, I will not act as your attorney. Collectively or individually.
Sharon looked confused. Doug looked affronted. Creighton remained passive.
Thats the piece of free advice? Doug asked.
Sooner or later the police will track down this Billy Duke, whether or not thats his real name. It may turn out that hes perfectly harmless, a model citizen. Or, he could have a connection to your brothers death. If he does, if he had any dealings with Paul or Wheeler Enterprises, and you know about it, youd be much better served to let the police in on it now, rather than having to own up to it after theyve made the connection.
Doug looked at his wife, who blinked up at him vacantly, then at Creighton, who said, I told the two detectiveswho interrupted my massage, by the waythat I never saw the guy, never heard of any Billy Duke. He grimaced. That redneck name alone I mean,
please
. And is Duke a middle name or last name? Is it Billy Duke Smith? Or Billy Joe Duke?
Sharon giggled.
Doug looked at his watch. Ive got a meeting. Is that all, Mr. Mitchell?
Derek stepped forward and offered him his hand. Again, Im sorry about what happened to your brother. I hope they catch the culprit soon. Good luck to you.
Doug shook his hand brusquely, then nudged Sharon toward the door. Creighton fell into step behind them.
I need a private word with you, Creighton.
Turning back, the young Wheeler looked like he was going to tell Derek to drop dead. Then he smiled pleasantly. All right.
Doug couldnt conceal his worry. Private word about what?
Creighton replied, A small matter I mentioned to Mr. Mitchell a couple days ago. He kissed his mother on the cheek. Are you going to be at home the rest of the afternoon? If so, Ill stop by.
Oh, good. See you soon, darling.
They left. Creighton turned to Derek and fluttered his eyelashes. Im all yours.
Derek advanced on him until they were standing close. He kept his voice low but distinct. Youre an asshole. Youre a prick. Furthermore, youre a prick made stupid by his own arrogance.
You talkin to
me?
Derek ignored that, knowing that to respond would be to give the jerk precisely what he wanted. Another piece of free advice.
Gee. Im honored.
I would forget about that restraining order bullshit if I were you. It could backfire, especially with you playing Deep Throat in parking garages.
Creighton shook his head slightly. Am I supposed to know what youre talking about?
Julie Rutledge has accused you of frightening her in the parking garage last night when she left the community center. Then she gets to her house and feels certain that someone has been there, shifting things around, playing a practical joke that isnt funny.
And you would know this how?
I bought the painting she contributed to the auction. She called this morning to thank me. Derek prided himself on being able to lie with the best of them. It wasnt the warmest, most gracious thank-you Ive ever received. Rather obligatory. Last night I was pointed out to her as your familys attorney. Seems she has no higher opinion of you than you do of her.
I told you why that was.
Yeah, you did. But shes got nothing good to say about you, either, so whos a guy to believe? You? Her? Neither of you?
Let me ask you a question, Mr. Mitchell. Did you witness the alleged incident in the garage? Did she file a complaint with the police about the alleged break-in at her house?
Derek said nothing.
Creighton smirked. Ten to one says she didnt. Why? Because no such break-in occurred. As for me hanging out in a parking garage, that doesnt even warrant discussion. Dont you get it? Shes telling wild stories, planting seeds of doubt about me in your mind, the same way shes done with that pair of detectives. She hates me. She has since the pool house episode. He laughed shortly. In hindsight, it would have been better if Id just let her suck me off.
The fury that surged through Derek was almost stronger than he could control. The more you say, the more I wonder if Ms. Rutledges stories about you are that wild.
Creighton gave Derek the smug smile that he was beginning to find really irksome. Julie is lying. Shes lying to support her accusation that I had something to do with the shooting of Uncle Paul. Which is preposterous, for reasons weve already discussed and which, frankly, are beginning to bore me. Now, since youve severed our professional relationship, I dont need your permission to leave, do I?
Derek held his stare for several seconds, then raised his hands at his sides as though in surrender and took several steps back. Creighton shook his head and gave a short laugh, then left through the open door.
She, Derek corrected. Maggie.
Hi, Maggie. Sharon Wheeler leaned down and scratched Maggie behind the ears. Ive never had a dog, but they always seem to like me.
She and Doug Wheeler had arrived at Dereks office minutes earlier, and she had taken an instant liking to Maggie. Doug had intro duced Sharon and Derek at the charity event. She was beautiful in a well-bred, well-packaged, Southern-belle way. But there was no substance to support the pretty exterior. Derek sensed she laughed even when she didnt quite get the joke. He imagined she moved through life feeling a bit lost but had become adept at covering her uncertainty with practiced charm.
Derek also surmised that Doug was well aware of his wifes vacuousness but loved her in spite of it. Smiling fondly, he watched her petting Maggie. Why dont we get a dog?
She beamed at him. Id love that.
Ah, the gangs all here. Creighton breezed through the door Marlene held open for him. Hello, Mother, Father. Mr. Mitchell. He clicked his heels and saluted Derek crisply. Reporting as ordered, sir.
Derek wanted to slam-dunk him straight through the floor and all the way to China. Did you break into Julie Rutledges house last night?
Exclamations erupted from both his parents, but Derek tuned them out. His focus was on Creighton. The younger man stared at him for several seconds, then turned his head to look behind him. Coming back around and perfectly mimicking De Niro, he said, You talkin to me? You talkin to me?
Answer the question.
Creighton snuffled a laugh. Oh, youre
serious
. I thought for sure you were joking.
Whats this about, Mr. Mitchell? Doug demanded.
Derek held Creightons placid stare for several seconds more, then turned to Doug. Never mind. Private joke. The reason I called you here was to give you a final piece of advice. Free advice, because Im returning all your money. He paused, then said, If any of you know this guy in the photo whos been identified as a Billy Duke, you should tell the police now.
Ive already told them I dont know him. Not by face or name, Doug said querulously. I could have told you that over the phone. He seemed perturbed by having been called away from work unnecessarily.
I no longer trust our telephone conversations, Mr. Wheeler, Derek said. I wanted to see you in person, so there could be no misunderstanding of my meaning. Despite the large sum of money you deposited into my account, I will not act as your attorney. Collectively or individually.
Sharon looked confused. Doug looked affronted. Creighton remained passive.
Thats the piece of free advice? Doug asked.
Sooner or later the police will track down this Billy Duke, whether or not thats his real name. It may turn out that hes perfectly harmless, a model citizen. Or, he could have a connection to your brothers death. If he does, if he had any dealings with Paul or Wheeler Enterprises, and you know about it, youd be much better served to let the police in on it now, rather than having to own up to it after theyve made the connection.
Doug looked at his wife, who blinked up at him vacantly, then at Creighton, who said, I told the two detectiveswho interrupted my massage, by the waythat I never saw the guy, never heard of any Billy Duke. He grimaced. That redneck name alone I mean,
please
. And is Duke a middle name or last name? Is it Billy Duke Smith? Or Billy Joe Duke?
Sharon giggled.
Doug looked at his watch. Ive got a meeting. Is that all, Mr. Mitchell?
Derek stepped forward and offered him his hand. Again, Im sorry about what happened to your brother. I hope they catch the culprit soon. Good luck to you.
Doug shook his hand brusquely, then nudged Sharon toward the door. Creighton fell into step behind them.
I need a private word with you, Creighton.
Turning back, the young Wheeler looked like he was going to tell Derek to drop dead. Then he smiled pleasantly. All right.
Doug couldnt conceal his worry. Private word about what?
Creighton replied, A small matter I mentioned to Mr. Mitchell a couple days ago. He kissed his mother on the cheek. Are you going to be at home the rest of the afternoon? If so, Ill stop by.
Oh, good. See you soon, darling.
They left. Creighton turned to Derek and fluttered his eyelashes. Im all yours.
Derek advanced on him until they were standing close. He kept his voice low but distinct. Youre an asshole. Youre a prick. Furthermore, youre a prick made stupid by his own arrogance.
You talkin to
me?
Derek ignored that, knowing that to respond would be to give the jerk precisely what he wanted. Another piece of free advice.
Gee. Im honored.
I would forget about that restraining order bullshit if I were you. It could backfire, especially with you playing Deep Throat in parking garages.
Creighton shook his head slightly. Am I supposed to know what youre talking about?
Julie Rutledge has accused you of frightening her in the parking garage last night when she left the community center. Then she gets to her house and feels certain that someone has been there, shifting things around, playing a practical joke that isnt funny.
And you would know this how?
I bought the painting she contributed to the auction. She called this morning to thank me. Derek prided himself on being able to lie with the best of them. It wasnt the warmest, most gracious thank-you Ive ever received. Rather obligatory. Last night I was pointed out to her as your familys attorney. Seems she has no higher opinion of you than you do of her.
I told you why that was.
Yeah, you did. But shes got nothing good to say about you, either, so whos a guy to believe? You? Her? Neither of you?
Let me ask you a question, Mr. Mitchell. Did you witness the alleged incident in the garage? Did she file a complaint with the police about the alleged break-in at her house?
Derek said nothing.
Creighton smirked. Ten to one says she didnt. Why? Because no such break-in occurred. As for me hanging out in a parking garage, that doesnt even warrant discussion. Dont you get it? Shes telling wild stories, planting seeds of doubt about me in your mind, the same way shes done with that pair of detectives. She hates me. She has since the pool house episode. He laughed shortly. In hindsight, it would have been better if Id just let her suck me off.
The fury that surged through Derek was almost stronger than he could control. The more you say, the more I wonder if Ms. Rutledges stories about you are that wild.
Creighton gave Derek the smug smile that he was beginning to find really irksome. Julie is lying. Shes lying to support her accusation that I had something to do with the shooting of Uncle Paul. Which is preposterous, for reasons weve already discussed and which, frankly, are beginning to bore me. Now, since youve severed our professional relationship, I dont need your permission to leave, do I?
Derek held his stare for several seconds, then raised his hands at his sides as though in surrender and took several steps back. Creighton shook his head and gave a short laugh, then left through the open door.
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