“Good morning, Matt. This is Meredith Evans.”
“Good morning to you, Counselor. How are you?”
“For being stuck in an office, not bad. How about you?”
“Just finishing a jog on the beach.”
“You’re a mean person, Matt Royal.”
I laughed. “Why don’t you drop the charges against Esther Higgins and get out of the office for a few days? We’ll both feel better.”
“Right. Look, I’ve got a question for you.”
“Shoot.”
“Are we going to get along on this case?”
“I hope so,” I said. “Billy Ray Johnson says you’re a straight shooter, and maybe a little bit of a hard-ass.”
“That’s very strange. He said the same thing about you.”
“Ah, you checked me out.”
“Yep. Billy Ray said he thought you and I could work together and maybe get this case handled with as little grief as possible.”
“I hope we can do that, Meredith. Are you planning to go for an indictment?”
“Probably not. I think first degree would be overkill. And at this point, I don’t think I can prove premeditation. At least not with what I’ve seen so far.”
“It would give you some bargaining room. Lots of prosecutors do that.”
“Billy Ray said all that would do is piss you off and that a pissed-off Matt Royal is not a pretty sight. Besides, I’m very conscious of the fact that, while I represent the state and need to go for the conviction, I also have an affirmative duty as an officer of the court to seek justice.”
“That would sound a little sanctimonious coming from a lot of prosecutors, but Billy Ray said you really believe in what you’re doing and how you do it.”
“Do you believe him? Do you believe me?”
“I believe both of you.”
“Okay, Matt. Look, we’re going to be exchanging a lot of information and ideas over the next few months. I got the autopsy report this morning and I want to fax it to you.”
“You’re not going to wait for the formal discovery process?”
“No, but I took a look at your discovery motions. I’ll respond in a timely manner so you’ll eventually get the same documents that I’ll be voluntarily sending you. You can compare them and assure yourself that I’m not playing loose with the documents.”
“Meredith, you know there are going to be some things I can’t and won’t share with you. Not voluntarily, anyway.”
“I won’t be offended. I might try to force your hand if I think you’re off-base with what you’re withholding, but I’m comfortable letting the judge decide those disputes.”
“What about bail?” I asked.
“I can’t agree to that. Not yet, anyway. As I told you, my boss is not big on bail, and I don’t want to get kicked off this case.”
“Do you have the police report yet?”
“No, but I’ll send it to you as soon as I get it.”
“Scrubbed?”
“No, sir. I’ll send you exactly what I get.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“I’m told that there is enough evidence tying your client to the crime, that she has to be involved. I’m going for a conviction. But, she’s got no record, and by all accounts I’ve heard, she’s an upstanding citizen and much beloved by a couple of generations of students up in Atlanta. I want her to have a fair shot. I’m glad she’s got a good lawyer, and I’m going to do my best to beat your sorry ass and put her in jail. But when it’s all over, and you go back to Longboat Key with your tail between your legs, I want to look old Billy Ray in the face and tell him I beat you fair and square. And then you and I will need to drink some whiskey together.”
“Then I guess we’d better suit up. I’m looking forward to working with you, Meredith. I think Billy Ray was right on the money.”
“What do you mean?”
“He said I’d like you, and that I could trust you, but the first time I let my guard down, you’d punch me in the nose.”
She laughed. “Billy Ray is a very perceptive man. I’ll fax the autopsy report to you in the next few minutes. Thanks for having Amber Marris call me.” She hung up before I could answer.
I thought about that somewhat strange phone call as I walked down Broadway toward my house. I’d had those kinds of cooperative relationships with opposing counsel in the past, but they were always in civil lawsuits. I had never seen this kind of approach from a prosecutor. I wondered if there was something other than professional ethics behind Meredith’s offer to work closely together and her decision not to seek a first-degree murder indictment. No telling what that might be.
On the other hand, maybe she was just an honest person doing a tough and often thankless job and trying to do it in a manner that comported with her sense of justice. It has often been said that justice, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. The result is that justice is generally an ephemeral concept at best.
I was still worried about the sheriff’s reaction to my being involved in this case. I had expected him to treat me like a pariah, and yet he was respectful and even cordial. And now Meredith Evans was being overly cooperative and perhaps giving me an advantage that prosecutors almost never provide defense lawyers.
I mentally shrugged it off and decided I’d know more as I became better acquainted with the political and legal landscape of Sumter County. I walked on toward home and a hot shower.
I opened the front door of my cottage and saw a blond woman sitting at my computer. Her hair was cut short and she was wearing black horn-rimmed glasses. “I want to tell you up front,” I said. “I’m in love with a woman named J.D., so if you have any designs on my body, you’d best stifle them right now.”
J.D. turned to look at me through the clear glass of her new spectacles. “Jock’s out playing golf again with Mike Nink. Are you interested in finding out if blonds really do have more fun?”
“Right now?”
“I think I can stifle my designs until you take a shower.”
“Give me a minute.”
She wrinkled her nose. “It’s going to take more than a minute, lover. You’re sweating like a hog and you stink.”
“God, I love it when you talk mean to me,” I said, and ran for the shower.
CHAPTER 15
THE VOICE ON the other end of the telephone connection was pleasant. After I’d showered, assured myself that blonds did in fact have loads of fun, and shared a lunch on the patio with J.D., I called Peggy Keefe, the victim’s traveling aide. I identified myself and explained my interest in the case. She was cordial and happy to help. I asked about her job and how she came to be working with Ms. Lathom.
“I’m kind of a freelancer,” she said. “Publishers keep a list of people like me who take on their minor authors. I think the major authors get somebody who works for the publisher full-time. I take the traveling aide job if the author is going to someplace I’ve wanted to visit. If the author is pleasant and not too full of herself, it’s usually a lot of fun.”
“I thought Ms. Lathom was a New York Times best seller,” I said.
“She is. But this is her first book to hit the best-seller list. I think before the publishers spend too much money, they want to make sure that the author in question is going to become a regular best seller. Until then, they get the freelancers, like me.”
“How did you come to be Ms. Lathom’s aide?” I asked.
“The usual thing. I got a call from somebody at the publisher who schedules authors at bookstores. She asked if I would be interested in working with an author who would be touring Florida. I was told that Olivia was easy to get along with and the trip would only be for a week. All in Florida.”
“Where did you start?” I asked.
“The Villages was our first stop. We flew into Orlando, rented a car, and drove up to The Villages.”
“What kind of car?”
“Chevrolet, I think.”
“Do you have the pa
perwork on the rental?”
“Yes.”
“I’d like some information off the paperwork. Do you mind?”
“Of course not. Give me a minute to dig it up.” She was back in a couple of minutes. “What do you need?”
“Make, model, color, tag number, rental contract number, name of rental company, time out and time in.”
“I’ve got a scanner. Would it be easier for me to email it to you?”
I laughed. “Welcome to the twenty-first century, Royal.”
“I know the feeling,” she said. “Give me you email address and I’ll have it on the way as soon as we hang up.”
“Great, but I’ve got a few more questions if you’ve got time.”
“Sure.”
“What time did you get to The Villages?”
“Just about noon. We went right to the hotel and checked in. The publisher had taken care of the reservation.”
“Which hotel did you stay in?”
“The Waterfront Inn in Lake Sumter Landing. It’s within walking distance of the Barnes & Noble store. We had lunch in the hotel and walked over to the bookstore.”
“How long did the signing last?”
“It was scheduled for two hours but it ran over a little. We had a lot of people there, and Olivia didn’t want to leave until everybody got a signed book.”
“What did you do then?”
“We went back to the hotel, and I told Olivia I wanted to take a nap before dinner. I’d started out in Cincinnati before dawn and met her at the airport in Atlanta. She asked if I minded spending the evening alone if she took the car to visit a friend. She was planning on having dinner with her. That suited me. I wanted a quick nap, then dinner, and an early evening.”
“Where did you have dinner?”
“I walked over to RJ Gators, had something quick, and came back and read for awhile.”
“When did you see Olivia next?”
“I didn’t. The detectives came to my room on Thursday morning around ten. I hadn’t been able to reach Olivia by phone. Her cell went right to voice mail, so I thought she might have decided to spend the night with her friend. I called room service for breakfast and had just finished eating when the detectives knocked on my door.”
“Do you know how they found you so quickly?”
“They told me Olivia had her room key and driver’s license in her pocket and when they checked with the hotel desk, the clerk told them we were traveling together.”
“Do you know if Olivia had any family or someone to get in touch with in case of an emergency?”
“I don’t. She was a widow and didn’t have any children. She talked about that while we were passing the time of day on the flight down. I don’t know about anyone else.”
“What was your schedule for Thursday?”
“We were supposed to go to Orlando in the afternoon and then on to Tampa for a library fund-raiser that evening. As it turned out, I stuck around Thursday in case the police needed anything else from me. I left for Cincinnati on Friday morning.”
“Did you turn in your rental car?”
“Nobody could find it. The detective talked to Avis and told me not to worry about it. I took a shuttle down to Orlando and flew home.”
“What time did Olivia leave the hotel to go meet her friend?”
“I’m not sure. We separated about four thirty, so I assume she probably left sometime shortly after that.”
“I don’t suppose she told you the friend’s name.”
“No. And I didn’t ask.”
“Do you know whether it was a man or a woman?”
“Not really, although I thought it was a woman. That was probably just my assumption.”
“Did you think her friend lived in The Villages?”
She was quiet for a moment. “I think so, but that may have just been another assumption on my part.”
“Did you see Olivia spend more time than usual with any one person at the signing?”
“No. It all went smoothly. She only took a few seconds with each fan.”
“Can you think of anything else that might be pertinent?”
“No. Not off the top of my head, anyway. I did see Olivia talking to a man before the event started. We walked into the store, and he came up to her. They chatted for a few minutes and the man left the store. It probably doesn’t mean anything.”
“You’re probably right, but can you describe the man?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t pay that much attention to him.”
“Did you get a sense of his age?”
“I think he was probably about her age, but I don’t have any recollection of what he looked like. He was dressed like most of the people. Very casual.”
“You’ve been a big help, and I appreciate your time. I hope it won’t be necessary for you to come down for the trial.”
“I hope so, too, Mr. Royal. But if you need me, let me know. Can I call you if something else comes to mind?”
“Please do.” I gave her my number and terminated the call.
A few minutes later, my computer pinged, announcing the receipt of an email. It was the car rental agreement sent by Peggy Keefe. I also found an email from Meredith Evans attaching the autopsy report on Olivia Lathom. I copied the automobile information into my notebook in the hopes that I could use it in some manner as the investigation proceeded.
The autopsy report didn’t have anything I didn’t already know, except the estimated time of death. The medical examiner thought she’d probably died about eight o’clock on Wednesday evening. Olivia’s death was caused by a twenty-two-caliber bullet that entered her back, pierced her heart, and its energy almost expended, exited her chest and came to a stop in her clothing. I wondered briefly if Olivia’s dying brain had any coherent thoughts in the short time between the shooting and the instant of death.
The big anomaly was the notation that when the medical examiner sent the victim’s fingerprints to the state, there were no matches. Olivia was a ghost, but somebody had decided to kill her. I wish I knew the name of the friend she’d had dinner with on the night of her death. I was pretty sure that somewhere in the seventy thousand homes sprawled among The Villages, there was a house where the shooting had taken place. I’d be very surprised if we ever found it.
When I finished my work for the day, I went to J.D.’s condo to help her pack. I kissed her good-bye and watched as she drove off into her new life as the niece of a bookstore owner in The Villages. The afternoon was drawing to a close and I was already a bit lonely. Every time J.D. went out of town, I was thrown a bit off my feed. It wasn’t like we were together twenty-four hours a day, but when I knew I wouldn’t see her for a while, a kind of dolefulness settled around me, barely felt, but noticeable, like a minor temblor shaking my very ordered little world. Oh, well, I had a bail hearing in Bushnell the next morning. I’d try to figure a way to see her without blowing her cover.
I called Jock. He and Mike Nink were enjoying a beer after finishing their round of golf. They would join me at Tiny’s for another round or two. Beer, not golf. Over the years, I’d found that it’s nearly impossible to be lonely for very long on our little island. Friends will always come to the rescue and jolly you out of your dark mood.
CHAPTER 16
I WAS SITTING in the hallway outside Judge Bill Gallagher’s hearing room at a few minutes before ten on Wednesday morning when Meredith Evans slipped into the chair next to me. “Ready to give up?” she asked, grinning.
“Hurrumph,” I mumbled.
“You hurrumph like an old man,” she said.
“Go away, girl, before I have the bailiffs remove you.”
“They like to be called court deputies.”
“Yeah. How was your weekend?”
“Good. How was yours?”
“I live in paradise. Do you have to ask?”
“Bastard. I talked to my boss about some kind of agreement on bail. He nixed it. He thinks we have a pretty good case.”
>
“He’s wrong,” I said.
“I’ll pass that along.”
“Are we going to have any trouble with a speedy trial?”
“No. You’ve got a right to that. We might even be amenable to moving it up a bit if we can get all the discovery out of the way.”
“Let’s see how that goes.”
Two men in suits, each carrying a bulging file folder, came out of the hearing room. A couple of minutes later, the court deputy stuck his head out of the same door and said, “He’s ready.”
Judge Gallagher sat at one end of a conference table and Meredith and I took seats on either side. “Good morning, Meredith,” the judge said and then nodded at me. “It’s been a while, Matt. Glad to see you.”
“Thank you, Your Honor. I understand I’m in for a rough ride with Meredith on the other side.”
“Probably so,” the judge said.
“We have a mutual friend,” Meredith said. “Billy Ray Johnson.”
The judge laughed. “Well, you’re both in good hands. Are you going to agree to bail, Meredith?”
“No, sir.”
“No surprise there. Matt, why do you think this defendant is entitled to bail?”
“She’s a retired schoolteacher, Your Honor. No criminal record of any kind. Owns a house in The Villages. I can’t see her as a flight risk.”
“I’d like to know a little more about her,” the judge said. “I’m going to continue this hearing. I’m going to order something along the line of a pre-sentence investigation from the state attorney’s office, and, Matt, you can provide me whatever you want me to consider. Meredith, I want the report from you by next Monday. Tell me all the reasons Ms. Higgins shouldn’t get bail, and, Matt, you do the opposite by Wednesday. Meredith, fax a copy of your report to Matt and he can respond to it. We’ll set a hearing for Thursday of next week. How does ten in the morning work for you?”
Meredith and I both nodded. The judge made a note on his calendar and said, “If you two haven’t worked this out by then, I’ll rule. Meredith, please draw the order. Anything else?”
“No, Your Honor,” we said in unison. He rose and left the room.
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