Sticks & Stones (A Hollis Morgan Mystery) (12 page)

Hollis shook her head. “No, I’m the one who brought up work. And, yes, I’m enjoying myself very much.” She squeezed his hand then slipped hers free.

She racked her brain to come up with appropriate small talk. She had used up her limited repertoire, and the only topic left was the weather.

“You’re a beautiful woman.”

“What?” She came back from her own thoughts.

He laughed again. “Tell me, what would you rather be doing right now?”

Oh, oh, a trick question.

“Ah, you answer first.”

“I’m right where I want to be, with the woman I want to be with.” His blue eyes sought hers.

Hollis fought down panic. “I’m doing what I want to be doing, too.” She smiled, and then her smile faded. “Brad
 ….”

He raised his hand. “No pressure. Let’s just enjoy
Yo-Yo Ma.”

“I agree.” She bit her lip. “Would it be really tacky to ask you a question about Margaret Koch, now?”

“Yes, it would.” He turned to the stage and shook his head. “But how about on the drive home?”

Hollis grinned and ran an invisible zipper across her lips.

The lights brightened and then faded to dim.

Intermission over, Yo
-Yo Ma took the stage again. Hollis let herself sink into the mellow notes of the cello master. Her eyes closed, but from time to time she could still feel Brad’s gaze on her.

Afterward, they walked to the car
at a leisurely pace, commenting on the memorable performance. Surprisingly they were out of the lot in record time.

“Want to go for a drink at Crowley’s?” Brad offered.

Crowley’s was a neighborhood bar and restaurant in Walnut Creek. Its view of the hills and themed Italian décor made for a classy, quiet and friendly atmosphere. It was Hollis’ ex-husband’s favorite hangout, but she didn’t hold it against the owner. She and Brad settled into a booth toward the back. Hollis ordered Pinot Grigio, and Brad a screwdriver. The drinks came quickly, and after making sure they wanted nothing else, the waitress left them alone.

“All right, you’ve kept your word. What do you want to know about Margaret Koch?”

Hollis had been fiddling with her cocktail napkin, waiting for him to bring up the subject. “I’ve been reading these letters sent to Margaret. They leave an image of a cold, selfish but attractive woman—but also someone with loyal friends who helped to get her ex-husband out of prison.” Hollis rubbed her forehead with her fingers. “What’s, or what was, your impression of her?”

“Well, obviously I never met the lady. She’d been married to Koch for over forty years
, so I didn’t know about her ex-husbands. I pored over the public records. There were no living relatives and no heirs.” He waved the waitress over and pointed to his glass. She acknowledged him with a little wave and headed for the bar. “You’re right; I didn’t follow up on the first two marriages. But if she had any children I would have picked it up under Koch.”

“Brad, I’m not talking about what’s in your report, I’m talking about what did you think of—
her
?”

He
cocked his head.

“She was a beautiful woman
—smart, too. Her signature was on all the business documents and income tax forms. I got the sense Koch catered to her. He was nineteen years older.” His drink came. “I don’t know, I guess I would say she’d be a catch.”

Hollis gave him a quick smile in understanding.

“A catch, huh.” She played with her napkin. She noticed he was looking around the restaurant. “Tell me, Mr. Pierson, what do you do in your spare time? Any hobbies?”

“Football
. Can’t live without it.”

Hollis grinned. “Do you play?”

He shook his head and laughed. “Nah, I just watch.”

“And when football season is over?”

“I go over game tapes on my TIVO.”

Of course
.

She leaned forward. “Tell me, how did a football junkie like you ever hear about Yo
-Yo Ma?”

Now he looked sheepish.

“My mother has season tickets. She suggested the concert.”

“Oh.”

“Hey, what about you? What do you like to do in your spare time?”

Hollis shrugged. “I read. I love good music. I love good wine.”

“Hey, I love wine too.”

Hollis looked pointedly at his glass.

Brad smiled. “Well, not all the time, but I enjoy a good
cabernet. Maybe we can go to the wine country sometime?”

Hollis’ eyes locked with his. She felt a shiver. “I’d like that.”

He touched her fingers lightly to his. “Do you think we could do it before pre-season football?”

The glint in his eyes didn’t escape Hollis’ notice. She laughed
, throwing the cardboard coaster at his head.

H
ollis could tell by Detective Cavanaugh’s furtive glances at his desk clock that he had mentally moved on to his next meeting. She reached across and turned it to face outward.

“Ms. Morgan I have other app—”

“I’m sorry if I’m holding you up, but I’m telling you: Cathy was murdered for her article. Everything points to someone who wanted her dead. Someone who doesn’t want the Fields’ story to come out.” Hollis sat on the edge of the chair and pounded the top of the desk with her fist.

“Ms. Mor—”

“I’m not just ranting. Did you speak with her assistant at
Transformation
magazine? Did she tell you that Cathy was threatened?” Hollis knew she shouldn’t raise her voice, but she couldn’t stop herself. “A couple of days ago someone broke into my condo. Nothing of obvious value was stolen. I don’t know what he was looking for, or even if he found it, but I’m telling you, there should be some very high profile suspects in this case.” Spent, she sat back in the chair.

“If you would just let me speak, Ms. Morgan.” He turned the clock back around.
“Detective Faber told me of your break-in. Unfortunately we can’t find a connection be—”

“Wait. Look at this.” She put a small plastic bag with the notepaper she had found in her condo.
“See? They knew I lived there. I was targeted.”

Cavanaugh picked up the bag and peered at the paper. He frowned and put the plastic bag and its content
s in his side drawer.

“You said Ms. Briscoe had a personal assistant. How did you find her? No one at
Transformation
mentioned an assistant. What’s her name?”

Hollis licked her lips. She wasn’t ready to acknowledge she had kept copies of the notes that Cathy left with her, but Mark’s words of warning came back to her.

“She wasn’t a personal assistant. I meant to say she assisted Cathy.” She rushed, “Look, I made a copy of Cathy’s notes. You have the originals. I only discovered her through a fluke—by running into her in the bathroom.
Transformation
management didn’t tell us, either.” She paused. “Her name is Gail Baylor.”

He wrote down the name.

Hollis feared her growing impatience would turn Cavanaugh against her. “Will you please consider that maybe Cathy had something that a celebrity like Fields might want?”

His blue eyes seemed to look through her. She could tell he didn’t believe her.

“Tell me, Ms. Morgan, you’re a student of the law. Are you aware of California Penal Code Section Thirty-two?”

She could feel a rush of blood climbing up her chest.

“I’m not withholding information to obstruct justice,” Hollis said. “I want justice. I want to make sure you look in all directions regarding Cathy’s death.”

“And so you
—”

“All right,” she sighed. “And so I made copies of Cathy’s notes
. On one page there was a phone number that led me to her assistant.”

He leaned back, a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Does Miss Baylor consider the threat to be real?”

Hollis hesitated. The last thing she wanted was to make trouble for Gail.
Withholding information could be just as problematic as being an accessory after the fact.

“No, I don’t think so. She’s the real nervous type. I don’t think she linked the two.”

Cavanaugh continued to stare at her. “But you did?”

“Detective, I think it’s obvious. We never found Cathy’s research materials. Any writer, let alone an attorney, would have her research saved to back up any claims. Her final article was really more of a tease for a future series on non-profits. I think Cathy was murdered by someone on Dorian Fields’ staff. I doubt that Fields would do it himself. That person killed Cathy and took all her incriminating research material. You asked
me; now that’s what I think.”

It was her turn to lean back in her chair and cross her arms.

He flipped his pencil over and over, point to eraser, eraser to point.

“Is there anything else you’re withholding?”

“There is no ‘else.’ I never withheld anything. I’m on a legal team representing
Transformation
magazine. We have a right to collect information in defense of our client.” Gathering her purse and folders, Hollis rose to her feet. “I didn’t have to come here.”

Cavanaugh walked around his desk and blocked her exit.
“That’s right, you didn’t. But if you really think you have pertinent information about your friend’s murder, then you will serve her best by working with us.”

She
gave him a broad smile. “Then you’ll look into Dorian Fields’ role in all this?”

He lightly touched her elbow
, guiding her to the door. “Remember what I said. Work with me on this. We already spoke with Miss Briscoe’s assistant, but we’ll go back and ask her about the information you just gave me.”

Hollis nodded. She was worried that Gail would not like being questioned about their conversation. She remembered the call Gail took. Hollis knew it had something to do with Fields, but she wanted to make sure her hunch was correct.
She had no illusions about the lightly disguised threat.

She allowed herself to be ushered to the other side of the door,
which Cavanaugh pushed closed behind her.

Hollis couldn’t get back to her office fast enough, but after fifteen minutes on the phone she was still trying to convince Gail of her intentions.

“I’m not questioning your motives; I just want to know if you made a copy of Cathy’s research
.” Hollis bit her lip to keep her exasperation in check.

“Cathy trusted me
, and I wanted to make sure I didn’t overlook any text. Resorting to memory isn’t professional.”

“Gail—”

“I never knew when or where she might call me.”

“Gail—”

“Offices get hacked all the time and I didn’t want to be caught—”

“Gail, please.”

“Yes, I have a copy.”

Hollis took a deep breath. “Good, I’m going to need that copy. Can you
email it to me?”

She looked up to see George looming over her desk.
How long had he been there?
She turned slightly away from his gaze and put the phone to her other ear. He took the hint and left.

“Are you still there?” Hollis said.

“I have to think about this. Cathy never wanted to save her work on our system. She was afraid of it being stolen. I don’t have it on our server.”

“Well, then, where is her research?”

“It’s on a thumb drive.”

“Okay, I’ll come by to pick it up.”

“No, I don’t want management to think I’m disloyal. If you come by again, they will suspect we are working together.” Gail paused. “I’ll mail it to you.”

Hollis was glad Gail couldn’t see her frown of disbelief. “Gail, we are working together
. I’m defending one of your writers.” She mentally counted to six. “Look, I don’t trust the mail. Let’s just meet somewhere.”

There was muffled dialog
. Someone had evidently entered Gail’s office.

“Oh, my God, the police are here to question me.” Panic was clearly evident in her voice. “I don’t want to be arrested. I’ve got to go.”

Hollis stood. “Wait! Mailing the thumb drive is fine. The police may want a copy too, but make sure you put one in the mail to me. Okay?”

“What? Yes, no problem. Goodbye.”

“Wait, you don’t have my address. It’s—”

But Gail had already put down the phone.

Hollis arrived at Mark’s office late, but he was too preoccupied to notice. They went through copies of her notes and Mark pored over Hollis’ draft court motions.

She pulled her sweater close. The air conditioner seemed to be set to just above freezing. Maybe it was just to impress clients, because there was little need for air conditioning in the Bay Area.

Hollis recounted for Mark her phone call with Gail.

Mark raised his head. “That thumb drive is critical. It could be the answer to all our questions.”

She nodded. “If what Gail told me is true, having Cathy’s research takes us from a possible
lose to a probable win,” Hollis replied. “We have a lot going for us. I just know those non-profits are bogus. Wherever Fields’ money is going, it’s not going to them.”

“I agree that
’s what it appears to be, but we need to get the court to see it our way.” Mark stuffed pages into file folders. “Let me know as soon as you hear.”

“If she puts
the thumb drive in the mail today, I should have it by day after tomorrow or maybe even tomorrow. I’ll let you know as soon as I get it.”

“I read through the questions you drafted for the depositions
; they’re excellent. You’re going to make a great attorney, Hollis.”

“Thanks, I hope the State of California agrees with you.” Hollis couldn’t hold back the smile that eased across her face. “Are you sure you don’t want me to assist? I’ve met all of them and it helps to have a second pair of eyes.”

Mark shook his head. “Nope, you go ahead and wrap up the Koch case. You’ll be able to get George off your back. Besides, I would rather have your help with the settlement hearing.”

“Don’t worry about George, he’s happy. Margaret’s letters indicate she doesn’t have any heirs and we can close the matter.”

“So why bother with Kelly?”

Hollis glanced at Mark and then looked away. “She has one more letter
, and I’m trying to get her to let me read it.”

“Again, why?”

“Because … because Margaret’s story has me hooked. I’m not being nosy. I just want to … I’m hoping … to find out what happened.”

How could she explain to him what she couldn’t explain to herself? Just then his desk phone rang and she took a deep breath. From his end of the conversation, she could tell it was the front desk.

Mark laid down the phone. “My client is here. I’ve got to go.” He gathered up a legal pad and pen. “When you get Cathy’s thumb drive, start transcribing and ….”

He saw the look of irritation on her face and stopped.

“Mark, if you don’t want me to leave you working this case alone, don’t even pretend to tell me how to do my job.”

“It’s the stress.” He pretended to duck from her imaginary blow.

Hollis used the time on the trip back from Mark’s office to
consider her next move if she didn’t hear from Gail. When she got back to the firm she would call every fifteen minutes if necessary. She had to get her hands on that thumb drive.

She rushed through the lobby.

“Hollis, wait!” Tiffany called to her. “You had a visitor. She wouldn’t leave her name. She said she couldn’t stay but would call you in the morning.”

Hollis’ heart took on a rapid staccato. “What did she look like?”

“Older, kind of scattered and really nervous.”

Gail
.

“If for any reason she calls or comes by again, and I’m not at my desk, can you come and find me? It’s truly important that I speak with her.”

“Sure.” Tiffany paused. “I think she had a package for you, but she held on to it. I gave her your card.”

Hollis voice sounded strained to her ears. “Was it a small package?”

Tiffany nodded slowly.

Hollis started for her office again. She didn’t have a good feeling about missing Gail.
The woman might take it as some kind of omen that Hollis hadn’t been available. She picked up the phone and dialed Gail’s number, but there was no answer.

By four-thirty Hollis wanted to scream into her purse.

“Tiffany, I have to go to the mail room. I’ll bring the office mail back.”

It was a long shot, but she was in desperate need of a distraction.

“Thanks.” Tiffany’s look of surprise did not go unnoticed.

Hollis hated the mail room. It was a maze of right and left turns that usually brought her back to where she started. At least this time she could hear machine sounds and she followed them carefully. The hallway opened into a large windowless room.

A fan whirred loudly and she had to raise her voice over the noise.

“Mail for Triple D?”

The young man with an iPod bud in one ear nodded, pointing her to a long table covered with a dozen white square plastic containers brimming with mail. She quickly went through the firm’s half-filled box and sighed.

Gail’s package was not there.

Hollis tossed
and turned through the night, berating herself repeatedly for not getting that thumb drive. She should have been in the office when Gail came by.

The next morning she
went to work planning to go straight to
Transformation’s
offices, but remembering how Gail had been so uncomfortable being seen with her, she decided to call from a nearby coffee shop and ask her to come down. They needed Cathy’s research, or else Fields’ attorneys would tear their case apart.