The Law of Second Chances (33 page)

Jack spent the rest of the day at his office, coordinating a time for an emergency hearing on his motion and trying to track down Sal Paglia’s file on Benny. It took most of the morning to find out what lawyers would be representing Carl Robertson’s estate and the telephone company at the motion hearing, which was set for that Friday afternoon at three o’clock.

The effort to find Sal’s file turned out to be futile.

“We sold the practice to Paver, Morrison, and Gould. They took everything,” Glenn Story, the lawyer for Sal’s estate, told Jack when he inquired. “Richard Gould was the partner who presided over the sale and transfer.”

“What’s the name of the file?” Gould asked when Jack finally got him on the phone.

“State
v.
Benny Avrile,”
Jack replied.

“All right, I’ll check it out and call you back.”

Gould didn’t call back until four o’clock.

“I’m sorry to tell you this, Mr. Tobin, but we don’t have the file.”

“Do you know where it is?”

“No, and you probably won’t ever find it. Mr. Paglia’s office was vacant for a couple of months before we bought the practice. It had been broken into and ransacked. We had a master list of all the files. The Avrile case was on that list, but we never found it.”

“Were there other files missing?”

“About five in all. We made a police report, but nothing came of it.”

“Was anything of value taken in this break-in?” Jack asked.

“Oddly enough, no,” Richard Gould answered. “There were valuables in there, paintings and knickknacks and the like—things that could have been sold on the street.”

Jack was immediately suspicious. He decided to call his resident expert on petty crimes and criminals—Henry.

“Do you think somebody might have been looking for Benny’s file?” Jack asked after he had told Henry all about
his conversation with Richard Gould. “And what specifically were they looking for? And if Sal knew something and it was in that file, could that have been the reason he was killed?”

“Hold on, Jack. One question at a time. Wasn’t Sal killed by his bookie?”

“Nothing’s been proven.”

“I think you might be jumping to conclusions. Everybody in that neighborhood knew Sal was dead five minutes after he was shot. As I recall, it’s not the best part of town. Of course some crackheads are going to break into his office if they know it’s empty. But they’re not looking for files or paintings or anything like that. They’re looking for money or something they can turn into money quick.”

“What about the file? Benny’s file was missing.”

“So were several others. They ransacked the place. I’m surprised they only took or destroyed five files. I think you’re overreacting a little.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

49

For some strange reason, Jack felt compelled to have dinner at La Taqueria that night. He arrived around seven. Molly was already there, sitting at a table for two under the
Tips Up, Aspen Colorado
sign. She waved to him when she saw him standing by the front door.

Lisa, the owner, saw the wave. “Looks like there’s an empty seat at that table, Jack,” she said to him, looking over at the seat across from Molly.

“It looks that way,” Jack replied. “I’d better check it out.” He walked over to Molly’s table. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” Molly said with a smile.

Rose was their waitress. She didn’t look happy to see Jack sitting with another woman.

“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked rather perfunctorily.

“I’ll have one of those.” Jack pointed to Molly’s margarita.

It was a lovely first dinner. Jack had two quick margaritas to calm his nerves. After that, he listened while Molly told him about her work. He noticed that she didn’t say much, if anything at all, about her personal life.

She was a regional manager for a pharmaceutical company headquartered in New York City. Her territory was the entire Southeast, and one week a month she traveled to different areas to visit her sales force.

“When I decided I needed a break, I had already been here in Florida for a week, and I’d passed through Bass Creek two days before. It was the first place that popped into my mind,” she said.

“So you’re looking for seclusion, and your first night somebody invites himself to dinner,” Jack replied.

“Nonsense, Jack!” she protested. She looked very pretty in a brightly colored sundress. “I’m enjoying the company.”

After dinner he walked her back to the Bass Creek Hotel. It was a lovely clear night. The moon was three-quarters full and a slight breeze was blowing.

“It must be so nice to live in a place like this. It’s such a far cry from New York City,” Molly said.

“There’s still room,” Jack replied.

“You know how it is, Jack. New York is where the money is.”

“I hear you. Not much industry in Bass Creek, and frankly, I hope it stays that way.”

They were standing in front of the hotel now. Jack said good night and started to walk away.

“I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow,” Molly yelled to him.

“I’ll be there.”

Jack finished his run rather quickly the next morning and skipped the swim altogether. Bill and Eddie were already at the Pelican when he arrived, sitting in a booth toward the back. Jack sat at his usual spot at the counter.

“Are you going to be around next winter?” Eddie asked Bill.

“What kind of a question is that?” Bill asked.

“I was just wondering because I have a nice winter coat I want to give you.”

“Well, the only place I’d be if I wasn’t here next winter is six feet under, and you know that,” Bill replied.

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Well, you tell me where I’d be if I wasn’t here next winter,” Bill persisted.

Eddie just smiled. “I guess you’d be gone.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Bill replied. “What kind of question is that to ask anyone?”

Eddie looked over at Jack. “Jack, help me out here, will ya? I just want to tell him I have a nice winter coat for him.”

Just then Hannah set down Jack’s coffee and a bowl of oatmeal with raisins—his regular breakfast. “Eddie,” she interrupted before Jack had a chance to reply, “you said it. Now you have to live with it.” Hannah always took Uncle Bill’s side.

“But I just wanted to give Bill a coat,” Eddie pleaded.

“And you can’t give a coat to a dead man,” Bill put in grumpily. “That’s what you were saying.”

Jack couldn’t tell if Bill was serious or not. Bill liked to toy with Eddie. “I don’t think he meant anything by it, Uncle Bill.”

“You don’t think so, Jack?”

“No.”

“Okay then. Yes, Eddie, I plan on being around next winter, but no I don’t want a coat from you. Who knows where you got it from? Jack, do you know the other day he bought a shirt from a bum on the street? I mean, right off the man’s back!”

“It was a nice shirt,” Eddie protested. “I washed it five times.”

Just then Molly came in the front door. She was dressed in blue shorts and a white tank top. Jack couldn’t help but focus on her lithe figure as she walked down the aisle between the counter and the booths and sat right next to him.

“Good morning, Jack.”

“Good morning, Molly. How are they treating you over there at the hotel?”

“Very well, although I haven’t tried their breakfast yet. I prefer the atmosphere right here.”

“So, what big vacation plans do you have today?” Jack asked after Molly had placed her order.

“I was thinking of taking a ride over to the east coast. It’s less than an hour from here, isn’t it?”

“It sure is. Are you sick of Bass Creek already?”

“Absolutely not. I just thought I might like to spend a few hours at the ocean. As a matter of fact, I know this may sound a little forward, but I was thinking of asking you to come with me if you weren’t too busy.”

Jack felt a shiver of apprehension. “I’d love to,” he told her. “Unfortunately, I’ve got some work to do.”

Molly was clearly disappointed. “At least let me take you out to dinner tonight since you paid for me last night.”

Dinner was okay. Dinner he could handle. “That would be great. Where would you like to go?”

“How about the hotel? Everybody says their steaks are good.”

“They are. How about I meet you there at, say, seven?”

“Excellent!”

Neither one of them had noticed that all other conversation had stopped as Bill, Eddie, and Hannah—who had lingered within earshot after bringing Molly’s order—all eavesdropped on their conversation.

Having surrendered to dinner once again, Jack made his exit.

When he arrived at the office, Jack immediately called Dr. Donald Wong in San Francisco.

“He’s very busy,” Dr. Wong’s secretary told Jack. “I’ll have to ask him to call you back.” Jack provided the incentive for a prompt return call.

“Would you tell him that Jack Tobin called? I’m the new attorney on the Benny Avrile case. He might have seen the story about the case in the
New York Times
on Sunday. I want to find out if he’s still interested in being an expert for us.”

Jack had taken Bruce Sentner’s opinion about Dr. Wong to heart. He had no intention of using him as an expert. The documentary evidence the doctor had prepared—the charts and diagrams—were another story altogether.

His ploy worked. Mentioning the
New York Times
got Dr. Wong’s attention. If a big-shot lawyer was representing Benny Avrile, then there was more money to be had in the way of
expert witness fees. Dr. Wong called Jack thirty minutes later. They arranged to meet in San Francisco to discuss the case and go over the exhibits the following Saturday.

When he hung up the phone, Jack typed a letter to Dr. Wong confirming the meeting and also requesting that the good doctor have all the exhibits ready for him to see. Finally, he confirmed that Dr. Wong had already been paid six thousand dollars for his services to date. He finished with the words,
If there is anything in this letter that we did not discuss or is inaccurate, please notify me immediately
. He then sent the letter next-day delivery before calling Henry.

“We’re going to New York on Thursday night and San Francisco on Saturday morning.”

“For what?”

“I’ll brief you on the way.”

“You’re sure you need me?”

“I’m sure.”

“You know I hate to fly. I’ve already been to New York once.”

“I know. I was with you.”

“You’re sure? All the way to San Francisco?”

“Especially San Francisco.”

The restaurant at the Bass Creek Hotel was like a slice of Old Florida. The oak paneling looked and felt like it had been there since the days of Andy Jackson. The ornate bar was made of oak as well, as were the tables and the floor. The chairs were leather. The long-stemmed fans hanging from the twenty-foot-high ceiling added to the atmosphere. It had once been a place where the upper crust convened, and it held a little of that feeling still.

“I love this place,” Molly told Jack when they were seated.

“It’s been here a long time,” Jack said. “Years ago, this was
the
place for a steak and a good cigar.”

“A man’s place,” Molly replied. “All you need to do is look around to see that.”

The waitress took their drink order. Jack had Wild Turkey
neat. He never drank bourbon except when he was in the bar or the dining room at the Bass Creek Hotel. It was a bourbon type of place. Molly had white wine.

“So, how was the beach?” Jack asked.

“Oh Jack, it was terrific. It was a beautiful day. I spent the whole afternoon bodysurfing and I’m going back tomorrow.”

“I guess your love affair with Bass Creek is definitely over now.”

“Not at all. I’ll be here until next Wednesday. Jack, why don’t you come over tomorrow afternoon and swim with me?”

“I’d love to, but I have to go to New York the day after tomorrow, and I have some work to do before I leave.”

“That’s the second time you’ve given me the ‘I’d love to but’ routine, and we’ve only known each other for two days. I’m starting to get a complex.”

“I guess I could drive over for a few hours, swim, and have dinner and be back here at a decent hour. We don’t fly out until Thursday evening.”

“Great! How long are you in New York? I’ll be back there next week.”

“I have a hearing on Friday, then I’m headed for San Francisco.”

“I must be slipping. I should have found this information out already. Are you a lawyer, Jack?”

“Yeah, I’m representing a guy named Benny Avrile in New York. It’s kind of a high-profile case. You may have heard of it.”

“Nope, doesn’t ring a bell. I don’t usually read about that stuff. If a movie star or somebody in the fashion industry was on trial, I’d know all about it.”

Jack laughed.

“It’s hard to believe—a handsome man like you and a lawyer to boot. How is it that you’re unattached?”

They had come to the tough part. Jack knew that this question would come up eventually.

“I lost my wife to cancer a year ago.”

“Oh Jack, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”

“Of course you should have. It’s a natural part of getting to know somebody. It’s okay, though, and I’m okay. It’s time for me to get on with my life. So, what’s your story? A beautiful woman like you vacationing in a small town on her own—that’s a bit unusual.”

Molly blushed. “Yeah, I guess. I was engaged for about a year to a wonderful man—at least, in many ways he was wonderful. He was just too intense—a workaholic. I have a stressful job, and to come home every night to a man who couldn’t relax—it was too much. I had to break it off.”

They both sat in silence for a while, thinking about their lost lives.

“I think we need another drink,” Jack finally declared as he signaled the waitress.

They relaxed and kept it light after that. Jack had a strip steak and Molly a filet. Afterward they took a walk along the river. It was a clear night once again, and a light breeze was coming off the river. Molly slipped her hand inside Jack’s as they walked. His first inclination was to pull away, but he didn’t, and after a few minutes he actually began to feel comfortable.