“Then let’s see if we can get an agreement for a quicker trial. If we can’t, so be it. I can handle this place for a couple more months.”
“I want you to look at some pictures and see if you recognize anyone.” I pulled the photos out of my briefcase and showed her the one of the man driving the van taken by the security camera at the village or Hillsborough gate.
“I’ve never seen him before. Who is he?”
“I don’t know. We think he’s probably the man who drove the body from wherever Olivia was killed to Paddock Square. How about this one?” I showed her the picture of the man talking to Olivia in the Barnes & Noble store.
“Sure, I know him.”
CHAPTER 33
I LEFT THE detention center feeling like I’d failed my client. Some decisions are harder than others, and the decision to recommend to Esther that she stay in jail was gut wrenching. But I knew it was a better choice than telegraphing an important part of my trial strategy.
I called the prosecutor as I drove back to The Villages. “Meredith, what would you say to an agreement where I withdraw the bail motion and you agree to a trial no later than thirty days from now?”
“Ah, that fingerprints on the gun kind of grabbed you, huh?”
“Gloating is unbecoming in a valued sister at the bar of justice.”
“Yeah, but it’s fun.”
I laughed. “I’ll bet. What say you about a deal?”
“Can you be ready that quickly?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“If Judge Gallagher gives us a time certain for the trial, he’s going to hold us to it.”
“Will you agree to an earlier date?”
“Yes,” she said. “Let me put you on hold and check with his judicial assistant about a time. Can we finish this in five days?”
“I don’t want to promise you that, but at this point, I can’t see any reason why we couldn’t. How long do you think you’ll take with your case?”
“I can probably do it in a day and a half after we seat the jury.”
“That’ll give me two days and go to the jury early on Friday afternoon. That should be enough time.”
“Hold on. I’ll get right back to you.”
Two minutes later, Meredith came back on the line. “The judge can give us the number one slot on his docket for the trial period beginning on April 24th. That’ll give us five weeks to get ready.”
“Grab it,” I said. “I’ll electronically file the notice of withdrawal of the bail motion as soon as I get home.”
I thought about turning around and going back to the jail to let Esther know what Meredith and I had agreed to. I decided to call the jailer and see if he could convey a message to her and if so save me a trip back to Bushnell. I talked to the supervisor, identified myself, and asked if he could do me a favor.
“Sure thing, Mr. Royal.”
“I need to get a message to my client, Esther Higgins.”
“Not a problem.”
“Would you simply tell her that we have a trial date for April 24th?”
“I’ll get it done in the next five minutes. The sheriff left standing instructions for us to do anything we could for you.”
“Thank you.”
There it was again. Sheriff Cornett doing me a favor that was not something I had expected. I was still worried about his change of heart. I knew he had not been happy with me when I’d tried Jeff Carpenter’s case, so why was he going out of his way to be nice to me? It was a quandary. I appreciated his gestures, but I didn’t trust him. What was he up to?
I decided to go home. To Longboat Key. I’d been away for only five days and I was surprised how much I missed the place. Besides, I needed to turn in my rental and get my Explorer out of long-term parking at Tampa International Airport. It was nearing three o’clock as I made my way to I-75. I called J.D. We had determined that since somebody had figured out that I was staying at Esther’s house, we might be watched. We didn’t want her cover to be blown, so we’d decided that she should lie low for a while. I’d be sleeping alone tonight and I figured I might as well do it on Longboat as in The Villages.
I called her cell. “I’m going to Longboat,” I said when she answered. “Why don’t you drive down and join me? You can stay tomorrow and tell everybody you had to go back to Miami on some legal matters about your divorce.”
“I’d like to do it, Matt, but I’ve got a meeting with Kelly Gilbert tonight and I don’t want to put it off. I could drive down in the morning and come back on Wednesday or Thursday.”
“That’ll work, but what am I supposed do tonight?”
“I’m sure Jock and Logan will have some ideas.”
“I’ll probably get in trouble if I listen to them.”
“Try to be good. I’ll call you when I start out in the morning. Unless you want me to call tonight about my meeting with Kelly.”
“No. I’m going to Tiny’s.”
She laughed. “Now, there’s a big surprise. How did it go with Aunt Esther?”
I told her about our meeting, what we’d decided, and about Kelly Gilbert’s involvement in getting Esther’s fingerprints on the pistol grip. “That sounds suspicious,” I said. “Maybe you can get the conversation with Kelly turned in that direction.”
“I don’t know, Matt. This is our first meeting. I don’t want to spook her, but I agree, that whole act of Kelly’s on the day they found the body seems a bit hinkey. I’ll play it by ear. Something might come up. What about bail?”
“Esther agreed with me that we should skip the bail hearing. I can’t say she’s happy with staying in jail, but she understands the situation. She’s stoic as hell.”
“She is that.”
“I talked with the prosecutor and we’ve agreed to start the trial five weeks from today. If we win, Esther will be out within six weeks. If we lose, it won’t matter because she’ll be heading straight to prison.”
“Don’t even think like that,” she said. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
I was on the exit to I-275 when my phone rang. I answered. “Mr. Royal, this is Phyllis Black up in Douglas.”
“How are you, Sheriff?”
“Not so good, actually. I just got a report from our computer guy. It’s mostly technical jargon, but the gist of it is that we were hacked a couple of months ago. It was apparently a very sophisticated operation and our people couldn’t identify anything about the hacker, who he was or where he came from. Our people think it was so state-of-the-art that it might have been a government operation. Lord knows why the government would be interested in our network. If they wanted information, all they have to do is ask.”
“Could your people determine if the hacker was after any specific information?”
“Yeah. That’s the interesting part. Whoever it was went looking for anything we had pertaining to Danny Lathom.”
“So they would have gotten your file on his death.”
“Without question.”
“Were your people able to tell if the hacker might have been from a military unit, specifically an Army operation?”
“No. The report says that they were not able to identify any government or agency that made the intrusion. It just states that the hack was so sophisticated that it must have been a government operation. Would you like for me to send you the report?”
“That would be great, Sheriff. Can you email it to me?”
“I’ll get it out in the next few minutes. I’m sorry about this, Matt.”
“Don’t be. This might be a break in my case. I’ll let you know what comes of it. Did you get the copy of the print card I emailed you on our victim?”
“I did. No doubt about it. Your victim is the long-lost wife of the late Danny Lathom.”
CHAPTER 34
J.D. MET KELLY Gilbert at the bar at Sonny’s Barbeque Restaurant in Lake Sumter Landing. Kelly was sitting at a table on the wide veranda when J.D. arrived in Judy Ferguson’s golf cart. “I hope you haven’t been here long,”
J.D. said as she sat down.
“No. Just got here. I haven’t ordered yet.”
A long bar ran along one side of the veranda and was situated so that it opened into the restaurant on the other side. The stools on both the inside and outside of the bar were full of senior citizens enjoying a libation after their golf games. Some would stay longer than they should, and others would have one or two and be on their way home. Some couples were leaving to do some dancing. The country strains of the Steel Horse Band playing in the Market Square three blocks away washed faintly over the bar, drawing the dancing couples deeper into the evening.
It was nearing six o’clock, and the sun, low in the western sky, dappled the veranda with shadows. The aroma of barbeque titillated J.D.’s senses, urging her to stay for dinner. The light air was cool and the guests dining al fresco would need sweaters when the sun disappeared. J.D. had brought one to ward off the chill if she stayed long enough.
A waiter ambled over and took their orders, a white wine for J.D. and a Manhattan for Kelly. Pleasantries were exchanged and sips were taken from the drinks. Then, J.D. said, “Kelly, I hope you don’t mind if I ask you some questions about some of the book club members. You know my aunt Judy is a good friend of Esther Higgins and she thinks Esther is innocent.”
“I think Esther’s innocent, too,” Kelly said. “But that doesn’t mean one of our book club members is the murderer. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to do that.”
“I agree with you, Kelly, but I need to get to know the members and then branch out from there if I’m going to help my aunt help her friend.”
“Are you trying to investigate a murder?” Her voice telegraphed a certain incredulousness.
“Not really. But I thought I might be able to ask questions and turn over some rocks.”
“Do you have any background in murder investigations?”
“No, but I’m an Army intelligence officer and I do a lot of investigations dealing with national security.”
“Why don’t you just let the police do their jobs?”
“I’ve talked to the investigating officer. He doesn’t seem to be digging any further. He thinks he’s got his killer and he’s not inclined to spend any time looking for other suspects.”
“I’m surprised he talked to you.”
“He extended me that courtesy since I’m an active duty Army officer, but he wouldn’t tell me much that hasn’t already been in the newspaper.”
“Did you have somebody specifically that you wanted to talk about?”
“Not really,” J.D. said. “Can we keep this conversation confidential?”
“My lips are sealed.” She made the gesture of sealing her lips, locking them, and throwing away the key. J.D. thought that people who did that usually were inveterate gossips and couldn’t be trusted with a secret. She’d have to be careful.
“If you had to put the finger on any member of the book club who you think would be capable of murder, who would it be?”
“I can’t believe any of the women in the club would be a murderer. They’re all retirees. I haven’t met a mean one in the bunch.”
“Esther says Ruth Bergstrom gave her manuscript to Olivia Lathom and Olivia published it as her own.”
“I’m sure Ruth’s capable of that,” Kelly said. “Especially if there was money involved. But that’s a long way from murder. Was there money involved?”
“I don’t know. I think Olivia made a lot of money on the book, but I don’t know if she shared it with Ruth. Do you know a woman named Sally Steerman?”
A momentary shock seemed to twist Kelly’s face, so quick that J.D. wasn’t sure she had seen anything. It might have been some sort of natural tic, nothing of importance. “No, I don’t think so,” Kelly said. “The name doesn’t sound familiar. Why? Who is she?”
“Just a name I heard who may have had a motive to kill Olivia. I think she lives here in The Villages.”
“So do a hundred and fifteen thousand other people.” Her voice had taken on a steely undertone, as if she hadn’t liked the question.
“I know. I just thought that if she was connected to Olivia Lathom, she might have had some link to the book club.”
“Do you have any evidence that the Steerman woman was the murderer?”
“No. It’s just a name. Somebody heard she might have had a beef with Olivia. You know how gossip is.”
Kelly just shook her head and signaled the waiter for another drink. J.D. declined another and decided not to continue the conversation about the murder. Kelly was obviously not comfortable discussing it.
“How long did you live in Orlando?” J.D. asked.
“Not quite two years before my husband died and I moved here.”
“Do you have any children?”
“Two boys from my first marriage. Both grown men now. I don’t hear much from them anymore.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Oh, well, you know how it is. Ungrateful bastards.” Her voice dripped with bitterness. “I went through a lot to give them a better life. The older boy is the town drunk in a little burg just south of Atlanta. He never even finished high school and wasted all the money I’d saved for his college education. I doubt he even knows I’m still alive. The younger one is a well-to-do radiologist in Charlotte, but he didn’t like my marrying my second husband. If you don’t follow the doctor’s orders, he gets pissed and cuts off contact.”
“I’m sorry, Kelly. It must be difficult.”
“Yeah,” she said and ordered her third Manhattan.
“Any grandchildren?” J.D. asked.
“Not really. The older boy married some slut he’d met in a bar and for some reason adopted her teenage sons. She ran off with a long-haul truck driver and left my son with the boys. I guess they’re my stepgrandchildren and I tried to help them out some when they were younger. They turned out to be as bad as their mother, so I don’t have much contact with them either. They’ll call sometimes when they need something. Usually money. My younger son, the doctor, is gay, so there’s no hope of grandchildren there.”
“Well, it looks like you landed on your feet.”
“Yeah,” she said, sarcasm tingeing her voice. “A miserable life with a semi-happy ending marooned in this cheerful paradise filled with golf-playing nutjobs. It could have been so much better.”
“Would I be prying if I asked how it could have been better?”
“No, but there’s no magic in the answer. When we’re young, we all have dreams. Mine didn’t come true. But I’ve read enough to know that sometimes those dreams do have happy endings. Maybe mine would have materialized if my life hadn’t taken a wrong turn a long time ago.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. Water under the bridge. I was just young and stupid. How about your dreams?”
J.D. chuckled. “Sure, I had dreams and they didn’t include a career in the Army, but it’s turned out to be a good life and I feel like I’m doing some small service for my country. No regrets.”
“Your marriage?”
“Yeah. Well, there’s a regret for sure, but I’ve fixed it. I think. I wish it had turned out better.”
“Maybe next time,” Kelly said, her words slurring now, the alcohol grabbing at her brain. “My one piece of advice is to stay the hell away from lawyers. They’ll die on you when you’re least expecting it.” She laughed and signaled the waiter for another Manhattan.
A couple of Manhattans tend to loosen one’s tongue. Three Manhattans is even better, so J.D. took another stab at gleaning some information from Kelly. “Have you heard anything else about the murder? Something that hasn’t been in the newspaper?”
Kelly took a long drink from her cocktail, draining the glass, and leaned over the table, lowered her voice, and winked. Or tried to wink. It looked more like an errant facial tic than a wink. She exhaled a burst of bourbon-laden breath, strong enough that J.D. sat back in her chair. She looked at J.D., her eyes not quite f
ocused, and used her index finger to gesture J.D. to lean in close. J.D. complied, and Kelly spoke just above a whisper. “You need to look at that fireman who found the body.” She sat back, a crooked smile appearing, as if satisfied that she had imparted a message of great importance to J.D.
“Why him?” J.D. asked.
“He’s the one who found the body.”
“Yes, but wasn’t he just doing his job cleaning up the square?”
“So he says.”
“You don’t believe him?” J.D. asked.
Kelly shrugged. “You never know.” She favored J.D. with a crooked grin and raised her hand to order another drink.
J.D. decided to take a stab. “Did you know that Esther had a gun?”
“Yeah. She was waving it around one day when some of the girls from the book club were at her house.”
“That might not be a bad thing to have for security purposes.”
“You’re probably right, but Esther said she was afraid of the gun and only kept it because her dead brother-in-law gave it to her.”
“Do you keep a gun for security?”
“Nah, but I know a lot about guns. Used to use them on the farm to kill varmints. But I sure as hell wouldn’t keep a twenty-two like the one Esther had. Not enough firepower. I’d want something that would kill with the first shot.”
“Kelly,” J.D. said. “Maybe you should hold up on the next drink. You’ve got to drive home.”
“I’m in my cart and you can’t get in much trouble in those things. Besides, I’m going dancing when I finish the next drink. I love country music. I’ve been taking a class in line dancing.”
J.D. gave up. She’d had her share of encounters with drunks when she was a patrol cop in Miami. She knew the breed and knew there was no reasoning with them. “I need to get home,” she said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Right as rain.” The bitter half-smile again.
The waiter brought Kelly’s fourth Manhattan to their table. J.D. asked for the check and gave the server her credit card. After the card was returned and the check paid, J.D. stood and said, “Kelly, I really enjoyed our evening. I hope to see you again soon.”
Vindication Page 21
