He glanced up. “Good, you’re here. Have a seat.”
The blank walls, mounted security camera, and tape recorder felt intimidating. Although the room was cool, her palms began to sweat.
“Am I being questioned on the record? I mean, officially?”
Ian pushed back his shaggy dark bangs. “Well, yes.”
“Should I call my lawyer?”
Ian laughed.
She didn’t mean it to be funny. She had to testify back in December in her legal case, and she was having flashbacks. Of course, that time, Ian was on her side.
“I see you’re nervous. I’m just going to ask you a couple of simple questions on the record. That’s all. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
This was her best friend’s husband. She knew she could trust him. After a quick cleansing breath, she said, “Proceed, counselor.”
“Mrs. Sharpe, have you ever met Roscoe Trainor?”
“Roscoe? Is that the guy dressed like a butler at Sister Natasha’s house?”
Ian nodded.
“Yes. Yesterday.”
He held up his hand for her to wait for the next question. “How did he get your business card?”
She had learned from her previous deposition that less was more. She chose her words carefully. “I went to the house to have Sister Natasha give me a reading and to see if I could interview her for a story for the newspaper. She asked me—ordered me, to leave. Mr. Trainor asked me to leave my card in the box on the front porch and said that he would call me. So I did.” She was satisfied with her answer.
Ian took notes as she spoke. “And did you write the story?”
“No,” she said abruptly.
“Will you be writing the story in the future?”
“No.”
He looked up from his notes. “Why not?”
“I got fired yesterday.”
He reached over and shut off the tape recorder. “What on earth happened?”
She braced herself for another tongue-lashing. “Lloyd Pryor changed my assignment. He told me to stay away from the murder investigation and the story about Councilman Fisk. I told you about that, remember?”
“Yes. And...?”
“I didn’t stay away. I’ve been helping Dan Carson interview some leads. Pryor found out and...eek.” She drug her thumb across the front of her throat. “I got the axe.”
“Deena. I told you—”
“I know. I’ve heard it all.”
Ian closed his notepad. “So, what have you found out?”
She crossed her arms, surprised by the question. “Are you asking as my friend or my lawyer? Or as that horrible man’s attorney?”
“All three.”
She didn’t like his answer and wasn’t sure how much she should say. “Without giving any specifics, I think Marty Fisk is up to no good. I think Barbara and Katy Wilde are connected to him somehow.”
Ian tapped his pen on the table. “What does Gary think? About your going rogue, that is.”
“He’s on board, as long as I keep out of harm’s way.”
“In order to defend my client, I need to know what you know. I don’t have time for a lot of leg work. Sounds like you and Dan have a head start on this thing.”
Deena shook her head. “I know it’s your job, but how can you defend such a despicable criminal?”
“Shall I quote the constitution or do you want the short version? I think Roscoe Trainor is innocent.”
“Innocent? From the little I’ve heard, he was caught red-handed!”
“Things aren’t always what they seem. You know that.”
Like in a cartoon, she could practically see the wheels turning in Ian’s head. At last, he spit it out.
“What if I hire you to work for me as an investigator? I can pay you a modest salary. You can help me dig out the truth, whatever that turns out to be.”
It was Deena’s turn for a lightbulb moment. Before he could change his mind, she answered with a resounding, “Yes!”
Now she just had to convince Gary and Dan it was a good idea.
Her cell phone barked in her pocket.
“You need to change that ringtone if you’re going to be taken seriously in this business.”
She nodded. “Hello?”
It was Dan. He said he had some new information. When he asked her to meet him at the hospital, she jumped on it. After all, she needed to talk to him in person, not knowing how he would feel about sharing his notes with a defense attorney.
THE MAYCROFT REGIONAL Hospital was well staffed, despite its small size. Within those walls, babies were born, bones were set, and bodies were brought in before being shuffled off to the funeral home.
Deena glanced around the reception area.
Dan was leaning against the reception desk talking to a clerk, perhaps another one of his contacts. He waved a salute before walking up to Deena. “She’s still in ICU, but the doctor said she’s stable.”
“Can we see her?”
“Only you can.” He led the way to a waiting area. “I talked to Dr. Shultz and explained the situation. He knew about her grandmother, but he didn’t know her only other relative—her brother Travis—was in jail. He agreed you could go in to see her for a few minutes.”
“Is she still unconscious?” Deena wrung her hands. “Is there anything I need to do?”
“Nah. Just tell her you’re here. You women seem to know what to say.”
“Right. But before I go back there, I need to tell you what just happened.”
Dan pulled out his notepad. “I got something, too.”
They moved away from an older couple who were filling out forms.
“You go first,” Deena said.
“Jackson Oil and Gas. The company listed on the trucks Mrs. Canfield saw. They’re not a utility company. They dig oil wells. It turns out there’s oil in them thar hills.”
“You mean the neighborhood Fisk wants to buy?”
“I checked the property records. He already owns several houses and vacant lots there. There was information about old mineral rights. My guess is he realized there could be oil or natural gas underneath and hired Jackson Oil to do some testing.”
“That explains what Georgia Parks said. That Fisk wasn’t planning to build on the land.” Deena’s eyes narrowed. “That means he only wanted the area re-zoned so he could force the owners to sell their property. What a creep.”
Dan nodded. “That’s right. It also makes the land a lot more valuable. He obviously had been keeping that information secret to avoid competition for the property.”
“So why would he tell his mistress if it was such a big secret?”
“Georgia is a gold digger. I wouldn’t be surprised if she were the brains behind his brawn.”
“But wouldn’t the city or county have to give him permission to drill? Even if the area were re-zoned, he’d still have to get the okay.”
“Maybe he had a two-step plan. First, buy the property under the pretense of revitalizing the city, and then request to drill the oil underneath. There’s plenty of private wells around here.”
“But, he couldn’t do anything until he got his hands on the land. And Barbara Wilde was the only one standing in his way.” Her throat tightened. “And then Katy.”
Dan sighed. “I know. So, where does the brother, Travis, come in?”
“Maybe Fisk paid him.” Deena couldn’t believe she was back to suspecting the city councilman of murder. “It seems like a lot of people stood to benefit from Mrs. Wilde’s death. Travis with the life insurance and selling the house, Mrs. Canfield and the other neighbors, and Marty Fisk.”
“Greed. It’s at the heart of most murders.”
“But Travis was in jail when his sister was attacked.”
Dan shook his head. “That’s going to be a big problem for the police. Although it’s possible the two attacks weren’t connected, it seems unlikely.”
Deena frowned. “I think we should tell the
police our theory...and Ian.”
“Ian Davis? The defense attorney?” He tilted his head. “Why?”
“Because he’s my new boss. As of about thirty minutes ago.”
“You know, you could have led with that piece of information.”
Deena pulled Ian’s business card from her purse and handed it to Dan. “I know you don’t always trust lawyers, but Ian wants to find the truth. He’s been assigned to represent Roscoe Trainor, the man arrested for attacking Katy. I’ll know more when I meet with Ian again this afternoon.”
Dan sat back and shut his eyes. “Is he paying you at least?”
“Ian? Yes.”
“This goes against my better judgement, but it seems like we all want the same thing.” He sat up to look Deena straight in the eyes. “You know that if this Roscoe fella turns out to be guilty of attacking Katy, Ian is still going to defend him.”
“I know.” The bats in her belly fluttered again. “I guess I’ll cross that ditch when I come to it.” She put her hand on his arm. “Will you help us?”
He nodded in agreement. “But it’s got to be a two-way street. If you guys get a tip, I need to know about it.”
“I think Ian would agree to that.”
“I need to head to the office. I’ve got some calls to make so I can file this story about the attack and arrest. I sure wish I knew if Fisk had an alibi for last night.” He stuck the card and his notepad back in his shirt pocket. “You do realize that when you give our information about Fisk to Ian, he’ll be on the phone to the cops quicker than liquor.”
“Is that bad?”
“I suppose not. Based on what Mrs. Canfield told us about the buyout and this new info about the oil, it’s probably time the police figure out what Fisk’s involvement is.”
“And Mrs. Canfield’s,” Deena added.
“Right. You go check on Katy, and I’ll go write this story about Roscoe Trainor. I’ll call you later.”
They stood up and Deena patted his back. “Just the facts, Dan. Our client may be innocent.”
When Dan left, Deena went up to the desk and gave her name to the clerk who directed her to the ICU. Deena was well aware of its location, having spent several days there the past winter.
One of Deena’s former students was at the nurses’ station. She led Deena back to see Katy.
Monitors and tubes took up most of the space in the curtained-off area where Katy lay. If not for the steady beeping sound, Deena might have thought she was dead. A white bandage around her thick brown hair covered what Deena assumed was a head full of stitches. There were several scratches and cuts on her arms and hands. She also had stitches on one of her cheeks. The cuts were obviously due to the shattered glass pitcher.
Deena stood next to the bed and put her hand softly over Katy’s, carefully avoiding the IV tubes. “Katy. It’s Deena Sharpe. I’m here.” She wasn’t sure if the girl could hear her, but it didn’t matter. There were things Deena needed to say. “I am so sorry this happened to you, but you’re going to be okay. I’m going to find out who did this to you. I’m going to find out what happened to your grandmother.” The monitor continued its steady pace. “You don’t worry about anything except getting better. I’ll be back to see you soon.”
She reached over and ran her fingers lightly across Katy’s cheek. She looked so young and helpless. As Deena left the hospital room, no tears fell from her eyes. She was more determined than ever to find justice for Barbara and Katy Wilde.
BY LUCK, GARY ANSWERED the phone when Deena called. It was only March, but for a tax accountant and financial advisor, every day in spring was like April 14. She had promised to call him after meeting with Ian. She sat in the parking lot in front of the antique mall, waiting for Sandra. She had agreed to close the thrift shop for an hour to help Deena with her booth as long as they could pick up croissants and lattes from the Coffee Hut after.
“Whatcha got?” Gary asked as though he were waiting for a stock tip. Deena was used to his businessman-persona when she called him at the office.
“Good news and bad news. The good news is that I have a new job.”
“Already? That’s great!”
“The bad news is that I’m working for Ian Davis as an investigator into the Marty Fisk matter and the attack on Katy.” She waited. She could hear heavy breathing.
“If that’s what you want to do, I think it’s fine. Just stay out of trouble and don’t get hurt.”
“Wow. That was easier than I thought.”
“I’ve learned that you’re going to do whatever you want anyway, so I might as well be supportive.”
“Thank you, my love.” She smacked a kiss into the phone. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
For the first time that day, she relaxed. Maybe things were turning around.
Sandra pulled up next to Deena’s SUV and got out. “Isn’t that the same stuff you had in your car last week?”
“Yes. I’ve been busy.”
“It sounds like you’re going to get busier from what I hear. I talked to Ian.”
Deena lifted the back hatch, and they each picked up a box. “How do you feel about that?”
“I think it’s good,” Sandra said, holding the front door open with her foot. “He has a hard time keeping dependable, trustworthy people in his office.”
Janet was behind the counter. “Hey you two. Long time no see.”
Deena nodded. “Got a bunch of stuff to put out today.”
They walked back to Deena’s booth. She didn’t care that the space was dusty and needed to be swept. She set down the box and put her hands on her hips. “Ugh. Where to start?”
“I’ll get a dolly and bring in more boxes. You put things where you want them on the shelves.”
Deena pulled out vases, dishes, and pottery, setting them anywhere they would go. This was the one place where she was usually meticulous, staging items in vignettes to give them a homey appeal. She needed to make short work of this task so she could get to Ian’s office on time.
After Sandra’s second load, she stopped to catch her breath. “Looks like you’ve been busy shopping, girlfriend.”
“And this isn’t all of it. I still have more back at the house.”
“It doesn’t really do you any good if you don’t have it out in front of your customers.”
Deena rolled her eyes. “Thanks, Gary.”
Sandra laughed, but quickly turned serious. She put her hand on Deena’s arm. “You know, I just want to warn you about something. I’d hate to see you have a big letdown. Most of the people Ian defends are guilty. This guy who was arrested for attacking that girl, he’s probably guilty, too.”
Deena shook her head. “But Ian said he thinks he’s innocent.”
“Ian thinks everybody’s innocent. That’s why he’s a defense attorney.”
Deena frowned, looking down at the dirty floor.
Sandra moved the dolly out of the way. “I’m just saying, they arrested one guy for killing his grandmother and another for attacking that girl. They will likely both be convicted and everything else will just work itself out. Just thought you should get a reality check.” She headed back to the parking lot.
A reality check? That was ironic coming from the person who thought her storeroom was haunted. In this instance though, Sandra made a lot of sense. It definitely knocked the wind from her sails, but Deena didn’t want to give up. She remembered her promise to Katy. If Roscoe Trainor were guilty, she’d help prove it. As far as defending him in court, that would be left in Ian’s hands.
Chapter 23
The law office of Ian Davis was in an old Victorian house in desperate need of refurbishing. He had planned to hire a contractor but just hadn’t found the time. Peeling paint and crooked columns made it look more like a fixer upper than a professional law office. A musty smell, like an old lady’s closet, assaulted Deena’s nose when she opened the front door.
She stepped into a foyer that led to a wide stairway. A rope had
been tied across the staircase to block entry. There was a hand-written sign warning visitors to keep out of that area. Not exactly the most welcoming of offices. To the left was a dining area and kitchen. To the right was a large room that was probably once a parlor. It had been partitioned off with freestanding walls and had an assortment of old desks and tables.
A young girl with a blond bob talked on the phone while taking notes. Ian stood by an old-style desktop copier with an inch-thick stack of papers. A preppy looking twenty-something wearing a button-down shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes, got up from his desk and walked up to greet her. “Can I help you?” he asked politely.
“I’m Deena Sharpe.”
Ian stopped what he was doing. “Hey, Deena. This is Rob. He’s the office manager and a paralegal.”
They shook hands.
“That’s Amy,” Ian said, pointing to the girl on the phone. “She’s also a paralegal.”
Amy looked up from her notes and waved her pencil.
“Deena is going to be doing some investigative work for us.”
“Welcome,” Rob said. “We could use all the help we can get.”
“Let’s go into my office.” Ian headed to the only area in the room with four walls.
As she followed him, she tried to take in as much of the space as possible. This was definitely not what she expected. Ian’s previous office was in a swank part of town. There, the waiting area had been professionally decorated, and Ian’s office was large enough to host a small party. She didn’t recall having smelled an odor there.
She was obviously the oldest person in the office. She could probably be Amy’s mother. What was she getting herself into?
“Have a seat. I trust you talked to Dan Carson. Is he okay with our arrangement?”
“Yes,” she said, settling into a chrome office chair covered in worn, fake leather. “As long as we keep him in the loop, too.”
“As long as it’s in the best interest of our client, we’ll tell him everything we know.”
“Sounds fair.”
“So I talked to Roscoe this morning, and he gave me an earful.” Ian stood up and yelled over the temporary wall. “Hey Rob. Can you finish making those copies?” He sat back down and reached into his bottom desk drawer, pulling out a blank legal pad. He set a pen on top and slid it across the desk to Deena.
Sharpe Mind, Hanging by a Thread Page 13
