Sticks & Stones (A Hollis Morgan Mystery)

by R. Franklin James

  Mark tossed his pen onto the table.

  “I could bullshit you, but this is as close as we could get.”

  “I thought so,” Devi said. “Let’s put an end to this.” He turned to the attorney at the end of the table. “Float a settlement number and—”

  “Wait,” Hollis interrupted. “Okay, maybe we can’t nail him on laundering, but there is still a lot of dirt that Cathy dug up. We can still use it. Doctored annual reports, misleading non-profit organizations and inflated expenses all add up, if not to something illegal then something that flies in the face of full disclosure and ethical behavior. You could counter his philanthropy and good intentions with loose business practices.”

  “She’s got a point, Carl,” green tie said. “Maybe we can still get some traction in a settlement. We’ll agree to pull the story, but we’ll get one of the stringers to recast the article with the facts we do have. We don’t have to let Field’s attorney’s know. That’s another story altogether. We can build off Briscoe’s findings. It will be even bigger. Can’t you see the marketing angle?”

  Hollis couldn’t read what Devi was thinking in his dark brown eyes.

  He replied, “Just brilliant.” The look he gave her was still unreadable.

  After taking the next ten minutes to finalize a negotiating posture they wanted Mark and Hollis to pursue, Devi and friends left.

  Mark packed up his papers. “You gave us enough space to breathe another day.”

  Hollis hurried to load her briefcase. “I was grasping. I’ve been trying to step back and look at Cathy’s papers from all angles. Besides, with my back to the wall, it’s amazing how creative I can get.”

  “I’ll drink to that. Want to join me?”

  “No thanks. I want to pick up those pictures from Joe, the photographer. We may not need them but he went to a lot of effort to make me copies.”

  Hollis finished putting papers in her briefcase. She felt on edge but couldn’t exactly pinpoint the cause. Cathy’s findings, the nonprofits and the meeting with Devi …. Things just didn’t feel right.

  “Hollis, for God’s sake, can’t you ever let go and have fun?”

  She looked affronted. “I do have fun. I had a date last Saturday.”

  “With a guy?”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Yeah, with a guy.”

  “That’s great news. Now I can get Rena off my back. She’s been at me to introduce you to a nice guy.”

  “Tell her thank you, but I found my own guy.”

  “Really?” Mark finished packing. “Do I know him?”

  Hollis steeled herself. “It’s John Faber.”

  Mark sat back down. “Detective John Faber? John Faber who almost sent you back to prison? That John Faber?”

  “Very funny. He’s actually kind of nice.” Hollis turned away from Mark’s astonished look. “Come on, let’s go home. We made it through this wretched day.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Hollis glanced around the half-empty café and took a long sip of ice tea. The real crowd wouldn’t show until closer to noon. She looked at her watch again. Kelly was late.

  After yesterday’s debacle with Eric Ferris, she was feeling deflated. On top of that, the less than stellar presentation for Devi made her want to crawl under the cover and hide. What had Cathy been thinking? Why would she have produced an article with such damning consequences and so little evidence—so much non-evidence? Hollis had always relied on her ability to see into people. Now, looking over Cathy’s work, she wasn’t too sure. Had she been wrong about Kelly, too?

  She looked up as a gust of air preceded a young woman through the door. Hollis waved her over.

  “Sorry I’m late. The hospital called me back last night. Granddad had a small heart attack. He—”

  “Oh my God! I’m so sorry, Kelly.” Hollis reached across the table and put a hand on her arm. She didn’t bother to hide the misery she was feeling. She took notice of Kelly’s own flushed cheeks against pale skin. “Is he going to be okay?”

  Kelly closed her eyes and nodded. When she opened them, they glistened with tears. She remained silent.

  Hollis stiffened. “I feel terrible. It was me. I brought it on. It was the letter from Margaret that upset him.” Hollis didn’t wait for a courtesy denial from Kelly. She knew she was right.

  “It could have been worse. The doctor said it was a warning.” Kelly wiped at her eyes. “Hollis, I had a chance to talk to Granddad this morning. He said he wanted me to know that … that he loved me … and that he was wrong.”

  “Wrong about what?”

  “He wouldn’t say. But I’m pretty sure it’s because he lied.” She shook her head. “He just kept repeating that he was wrong. Then, he fell back to sleep.”

  Hollis said nothing.

  The waitress came to take their order. Kelly ordered soup, Hollis a tuna sandwich.

  “All these years, I thought my grandfather lost his freedom because of Margaret Koch.” Kelly stared out the window.

  Touched by the young woman’s pain, Hollis avoided her eyes by staring down at her own hands.

  Kelly continued, “I hated her.”

  Hollis sighed and nodded in understanding. “Margaret thought that your grandfather was Charles’ killer. She thought he and his brother had gotten into a fight over her.”

  Kelly continued to stare out the window, dabbing at her eyes with her now wilted tissue.

  Hollis spoke softly. “Margaret Koch got her husband to use his influence to have your grandfather’s case reviewed by the governor. They somehow got the evidence that Charles had set up his own suicide to look like murder.”

  Kelly held Hollis’ gaze. “But why didn’t Granddad tell my mom or me? Why continue the lie about Margaret? Do you think that’s what he meant when he said he was wrong?”

  “I don’t know.” Hollis paused, reflecting on the power of hate and love lost. “Eric Ferris confessed to a crime and went to prison because he thought he was saving the woman he loved. Except the woman he loved gave her love to another man. He has carried this … this pain until it physically broke his heart.”

  “But she got him out of prison.”

  “And he despised her for it.”

  Kelly shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “He had grown comfortable with drinking out of the glass of bitterness. He didn’t want to owe her. He didn’t want her to give him a reason to forgive her.”

  “Do you think she knew?”

  Hollis shrugged. “I don’t know, but I have a feeling he didn’t have to worry. She never forgave herself.”

  Kelly dug in her purse and pulled out a letter. She handed it Hollis. “I’m keeping my word. I’ve been holding on to this for myself. I wasn’t ever going to show it to you. I wanted to tease you with it so I could see the letters you had.” She wiped at her eyes. “But you showed me the truth about my family and that means a lot …. It means everything. “ She hesitated. “It has sentimental value for me. It’s from my grandmother to my Mom. Gram was dying but we didn’t know it.”

  Hollis gave a rueful little laugh. “You know it’s funny; I got wrapped up in Margaret’s history. It was like I was watching a life unfold, a melodramatic life. The letters piqued my curiosity, and they were addictive. A couple of days ago I wanted nothing more than to read your letter. Even though it wasn’t from Margaret, it would add to her story.” Hollis still didn’t reach for the letter. “Now it’s my closure.”

  Kelly made a sympathetic face. Hollis took the sheet out of the envelope. It was written in 1995. The handwriting was effusive and thick.

  Dear Mary,

  Your father and I so enjoyed your visit last Sunday. Kelly is growing up so fast. She reminds me of you when you were two. I love you both so much.

  You keep dodging me, but I want to write of things that speak of endings and beginnings. I want to say them in writing because after I’m gone, I know you will read my words over and over. If I spoke them, you would rel
y on your own interpretation and memory. My words would blur.

  When I was a young girl, my cousin Margaret and I would play in the park in Rowan and imagine what it would be like to travel the world and eat exotic food. She was like a sister to me. Her mother, Aunt Louise, was stern and always had a frown, but my mother, your grandmother, would let us dress up and join us in our fantasies. Later, all our other cousins died of the flu, so when your grandmother died, the only family I had left was Margaret.

  We were as close as could be. But that all changed.

  Margaret hated Rowan. She was far more adventurous than I. I envied her bravery. She got married, but her first husband died young. Then she met your father’s brother, George. They were in love. It was a shame you never met your uncle. He was a good man.

  I never told you this, but your father was married to Margaret for several years. I guess for a lot of reasons probably related to guilt, Margaret and your father drifted apart. Anyway, they divorced, and over time your father and I found each other and fell in love. We’ve been in love for a very long time.

  I find it so easy to write about the past as if it were all yesterday.

  I know you and Cliff are going through a difficult time. Eric and I had our difficult times too. But if you can just wait for the sun to come up again, you’d be surprised how different things will look to you.

  I’m dying, my darling daughter. The doctors say there’s no more that they can do. My time on this earth is very nearly over. The cancer has won this battle, but it has not defeated me, because I had you and now there’s Kelly. Anything I have of worth I want you and Kelly to have.

  Take care of your father for me. He can be difficult and I know you two bump heads now and then. But you are so much alike and he loves you dearly. Keep close to Cliff. He’s a good man. Let your love be bigger than both of you.

  Kiss Kelly for me and give her my opal ring when the time is right.

  With love and respect,

  Your Mother

  Kelly took out another tissue. “When the topic of my grandfather’s prison term would come up, I could hear him telling my mother Lisbeth: ‘let it go, move on,’ but she never could. How could she? Grandfather never let it go. And then my mom died when I was twelve.”

  “What did you just say?” Hollis slid her plate aside.

  “That my mother died when I was twelve?”

  “No, what was your mother’s name?”

  “Lisbeth Mary. It’s an old-fashioned family name. She was named after her mother. She was Lisbeth, too.”

  Hollis got out her notepad, flipped through the pages, and found what she was looking for.

  “Kelly, your grandmother …. Do you have any other letters? Do you have any of her papers? Maybe a birth certificate?”

  Kelly moved forward in her chair. “I can look through Mom’s things. They’re back at the house. Why? Why do you want to know about my grandmother?”

  Hollis didn’t answer at first. The links were coming together and pieces were lining up.

  “Can I see that letter again?”

  “Sure.” She slid it over. “Is there something wrong? My dad died a few years after my mom. This was the ring Gram wrote about in the letter.” She held out her right hand and the dainty opalescent stone was set off with a circle of diamond chips. “Hollis, what is it? What are you thinking?”

  “Kelly, I didn’t show you the letter Margaret received from Lisbeth. I didn’t think to, since it didn’t have anything to do with your grandfather. I don’t know you that well, but I think you’re going to need an attorney.” Hollis picked up her pad of paper, scribbled a note, and put her purse strap on her shoulder.

  “Wait. Tell me what’s going on.” Kelly started to gather her things together. “I just wanted proof that Granddad was innocent.” She took a breath. “When Mom and Dad died, it was just Granddad and me. I was a just a kid but he did the best he could. I thought it was prison that had done him in, but now I know it was Margaret Koch.”

  “Kelly, I’d hold off with that thought. If I’m right, you’re Margaret’s heir.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t go into it. Just show an attorney the letter and explain what’s happened.”

  “Can’t I use your firm? My husband and I don’t have a lot of money for a lawyer.”

  Hollis started putting her things back in her purse. “No, you can’t use our offices. It would be a conflict of interest for us to represent you. But, I can give you a list of good law firms.”

  “Are you sure I’m related, Hollis?”

  “Lisbeth and Margaret were first cousins. Your mom was her second cousin, and that makes you her third cousin.”

  “Third cousins can inherit?”

  “Under the right circumstances, yes.” Hollis stopped gathering her things. “I’ll let my boss know that you’re a possible Koch heir. There’s a hearing scheduled but we’ll ask for a continuance. We’ll wait to hear from your attorney. There will be a couple of court visits and some papers for you to sign, but in a few months you should receive an estate check.”

  Kelly smiled broadly. “Wow, that’s great. It will come in handy with Grandfather’s medical expenses.”

  Hollis frowned. “I don’t think I would let your grandfather know where the money came from.”

  Kelly looked blank at first; then the meaning of Hollis’s words sank in. “You’re right. He would never accept money from Margaret. He was so angry and hurt by her. I’m just realizing that for years he made up a story with Margaret as his scapegoat to hide the truth he couldn’t live with. He didn’t even tell my grandmother. You’re right; it’s probably guilt that has made him ill.”

  Hollis fell silent.

  “Now, what’s the matter?”

  Hollis’ mind was going over Cathy’s cache of materials. Articles and papers that didn’t make much sense, especially when she had been trying to force-fit them into the story, like square pegs into round holes.

  She had it all wrong.

  “Hollis?”

  “What?” Hollis turned to face Kelly, who was staring at her, head cocked. “Sorry. I’ll talk to my boss about you. In a week or so we’ll let you know when you can come in with your attorney to go over paperwork. I’ll call you in a few days, but I’ve got to go … now.”

  She gathered her jacket, patting her pocket for her car keys.

  “Okay, I’ll wait to hear from you.” Kelly reached for her purse and walked with Hollis to the door. “Did I say something wrong?”

  Hollis stopped. “No, everything is good. I just had a thought about which is worse, living with a lie, or knowingly selling it to others.”

  “You’re not talking about Granddad anymore, are you?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  The handle on Hollis’ car door was sticky.

  This posed a troublesome question. Why hadn’t it been sticky this morning when she parked in the outdoor lot after her meeting with Kelly? It was a little after dusk, and even though most of Triple D’s employees had gone home, there were still a fair number of cars around. She felt a slight unease. She took a Kleenex out of her purse and wiped down the handle. She smelled the tissue. It smelled like glue.

  A sickening feeling went through her as she recalled a TV show about vandals who use glue to disable the locks on a car. Not now, she thought. But the door opened easily and she got in behind the wheel. She was about to pull out of the space when she glanced in her side view mirror and saw a pair of eyes staring at her.

  “Whaaaaaaaaaa,” she screeched.

  “Hollis, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Vince called out.

  She turned off the car and rolled down the window. “Are you out of your mind? I could’ve had a heart attack. Where were you hiding?”

  He looked desolate. “I wasn’t hiding. I was sitting on the curb. You just didn’t see me.” He zipped up his jacket. “Besides, you left your car door unlocked, so I locked it.”

  “With what? Did you
have peanut butter and jelly on your hands? You don’t know why I left it unlocked. Maybe I wanted it unlocked. Haven’t you ever heard that if you don’t own it, it’s not yours?” She knew she was overreacting, but her heart still pounded rapidly as her adrenaline made the slow path back to its gland.

  “I just wanted to thank you for being so nice to me, but I guess I fell asleep waiting for you.”

  “You guess?” Hollis was having little success calming her voice. She took a deep breath. “Look, you have got to stop following me. What do you do all day?”

  He shrugged. “I mostly help out at the food kitchen, make deliveries for the shut-ins, and clean-up at Fresh Start at night.”

  “Is your mom still in rehab?”

  Vince said nothing but kept his eyes downcast.

  “Look, I’m really tired, and I’m really sorry about your Mom. But you’re not going to be my shadow. You’re starting to creep me out.” She turned back to look out over her steering wheel.

  He nodded. “I get it. I’ll leave you alone.” He backed away.

  Hollis sighed in exasperation. “Don’t you have any friends?”

  He paused and shook his head. “You’re my only friend.”

  His words hit her with a bolt of recognition.

  She stared at him, wondering where the air in her lungs had gone. She blinked her eyes, which started to blur, and then opened them to see Vince, head down, hands deep in the pockets of his hoodie, make a right turn down the street.

  Hollis took a deep sigh, started the car, and pulled up alongside him. “Okay, okay, get in.”

  Vince started to open the car door but saw her look at his hands. He gave them a brisk rub on his jeans.

  Hollis rolled her eyes and pulled back into traffic.

  “Are you hungry?”

  Vince shook his head. “You think I just see you ’cause I want a handout?”

  “Well ….” The thought had crossed her mind.

  Vince’s face turned red.