by Marta Perry
Parking at the curb, he walked toward the office, the morning sun warm on his head. Sometime this morning he also had to find out what the police were doing about Hanlon, Dixie’s ex. He seemed the most likely person to have been looking for something at Deidre’s place. Surely Carmichaels would at least have talked to him by now.
Impatience quickened Jase’s steps. He wanted to do something, and fast. He had the sense that the situation was rocketing out of control.
Jase reached for the office doorknob, noting wryly his name in gilt under those of Franklin Morris and Trey Alter. How long would that remain once the judge realized Jason was on Deidre’s side?
He turned the knob and discovered that the door was locked. Surprised, he just stared at it for a moment before reaching for his keys. No matter how early the attorneys were, Evelyn Lincoln always managed to be there first.
But even as he drew out the keys, he saw Evelyn peer out from the door into Trey’s office. At the sight of him, relief washed over her face, and she practically ran to unlock the door and pull him inside.
“Oh, Mr. Glassman, I’m so glad it’s you. I don’t think I’ve ever been so frightened in my life. My heart is still pounding, and my head—I just can’t think straight.”
For someone who was usually in perfect control, Evelyn was definitely rattled. He grasped the hands she was waving in agitation.
“Easy, Evelyn. Just tell me what happened.”
“I didn’t know what to do!” She clutched his hands. “Such a thing has never happened before. Was I right to call the police?”
Jason seized his rapidly vanishing supply of patience. “I still don’t know what scared you. Can you calm down enough to tell me?” He guided her to her chair behind the reception desk.
Evelyn sank into it, taking a deep breath. “Sorry. I’m acting like an idiot.”
“Just start at the beginning. You got here early, like you always do.”
She nodded. “I always keep the outer door locked until I see one of you or a client arrives. I was just tidying up when I heard someone at the door. He was trying to come in, and when he couldn’t, he started banging at the door something fierce.”
“Was it someone you knew? Someone who had an appointment?”
“No, no. A stranger. Big, kind of rough-looking.” She shuddered. “I went toward the door, thinking I’d ask what he wanted, but when I got near it, he started yelling.” Her face turned pink. “He was swearing at me, demanding that I let him in.”
It sounded like Hanlon again. Obviously a man who used his fists before his brains. “Did he say who he wanted?”
“I don’t think so. I kept saying the office was closed and nobody was here, but I don’t know if he understood me.” She gave him a prim look. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been drinking. So finally I said I was calling the police. And I went into Trey’s office and locked the door and called.”
“I’m sure you did the right thing.” He glanced at the front window. “And here they are. You’ll just need to tell them exactly what you told me.”
The police were represented by the same young patrolman who’d come to Deidre’s the night she’d reported a prowler. Trey Alter was close on his heels, so they both listened as Evelyn went over the whole story again with a few embellishments as far as her feelings were concerned.
While the patrolman was trying to get a more detailed description of the man, Trey moved casually over to Jason.
“Any thoughts as to who this might be?”
Jason shrugged. “No way of knowing for sure unless he decides to check for fingerprints, but I’m guessing it could have been Dixie James’s ex-husband. The description, such as it is, would fit him.”
Trey nodded. “If he were local, Evelyn probably would have known him, even if she couldn’t put a name to him. But what would Dixie’s ex want with us? We didn’t represent her.”
“No, but I did give Mrs. Morris advice on the legalities involved with taking over the funeral and disposing of Dixie’s belongings. He came to her apartment at least once when Mrs. Morris was there, trying to get in.”
Trey’s lips pursed as if giving a soundless whistle. “I don’t like the idea of him pestering Deidre. And that break-in at her place yesterday—are you thinking he was involved?”
“No way of knowing for sure. You heard about that already?” He was growing resigned to the way news seemed to travel around this town.
Trey nodded. “It’s all over town.”
Sure it was. He wished he knew whose side Trey would be on if it came to a battle between Deidre and the judge. He could be a valuable ally.
“I think Carmichaels had been looking for the ex-husband, anyway.”
Trey considered, frowning at little at the young patrolman. Finally, he seemed to come to a decision. “I don’t think it’s much good suggesting anything to him. Sam’s a nice kid, but he hasn’t advanced much beyond writing tickets. Suppose I keep an eye on things here while you drop in on Carmichaels? I don’t like the sound of this ex-husband, especially if the chief thinks he’s got a grudge of some kind against Deidre.”
“Good idea,” Jase said quickly. He still couldn’t guess which way the man would jump if it came to a choice, but he seemed to want to protect Deidre, and right now that was enough.
So while Evelyn was describing her feelings for the third or fourth time, Jason slipped out of the office. He’d wanted to talk to Carmichaels anyway, and now it had become a priority.
In a few minutes he was in the tiny room at the police station, describing the incident at the office to Chief Carmichaels. “I can’t be sure it was Mike Hanlon,” he concluded. “But it sounds like him.”
Carmichaels gave a curt nod. “That’s what I’m thinking, too. But what the devil is the man up to?”
“Seems to me he wants something—something he thinks Dixie had.” Jason spoke slowly, reasoning it out as he did. “First he tries to get into Dixie’s apartment, saying he wanted some old photos of them. I told him he should check with the police about claiming them.” He looked a question at Carmichaels.
“No, he didn’t say anything to us. From what I’ve seen and heard, I don’t think that bird would voluntarily ask the cops anything.”
Obviously Carmichaels would have checked up on him. “Does he have a record?”
“Drunk and disorderly, simple assault. Bar fights, mostly. It sounds like he’s a mean drunk.”
“Deidre said that’s what Dixie told her.”
Carmichaels nodded. “I don’t like it. I’m not saying I think he necessarily had anything to do with her death, but I don’t like him wandering around my town stirring up trouble. What does he want?” He slapped the desk by way of emphasis.
“Something he expects to find among Dixie’s things, at a guess. He tries to get into the apartment openly, and he can’t, because he was stopped by Deidre. Then he apparently sees Deidre carrying a box of things from Dixie’s place to hers.”
Carmichaels looked up alertly. “You sure of that?”
“Deidre said he drove past while she was doing it. She noticed him, so she’s assuming he noticed her. And it would fit if he’s the one who broke into Deidre’s house and went through the box of Dixie’s belongings. I thought she was going to tell you that, but maybe she hasn’t had a chance.”
Jase was beginning to feel comfortable working with Chief Carmichaels. He seemed to approach his job seriously and fairly, which was all he could ask.
“No word yet from the state police lab on the fingerprints we lifted. I’ll try jogging them a bit.” He seemed to be weighing his opinion of Jason. “While we’re speculating, why would he want to talk to someone at your chambers?”
“It would be me, I suppose.” Jase shrugged. “I’m the one who told him he couldn’t get access to Dixie’s things until
the police released them, and then only with the executor’s approval. He may assume I have some influence over that.”
“He might at that.” Carmichaels gave him a look he couldn’t interpret. “Thanks, Counselor. I think we have enough to bring him in to answer some questions, anyway. We’ll see where we go from there.”
He seemed to think it would be a simple matter to lay hands on Hanlon. Jase hoped that was true, because it was high time they had some answers.
CHAPTER TWELVE
A FEW DAYS LATER, when Deidre reached the sidewalk outside the elementary school and glanced back, she was startled to see Kevin standing at the window of the kindergarten room. Forcing a bright smile, she waved at him, then turned and walked away resolutely.
Kevin had been clingy this morning, something that hadn’t happened since the first day of nursery school last year. Normally he rushed into the kindergarten classroom, chattering away a mile a minute to anyone who would listen.
An aftereffect of his injury? It was possible, she supposed, but it would have seemed more likely to happen when he’d first come back to school. Maybe the real problem was that he was picking up on her own emotions, which often felt as if they were being beaten by her electric mixer.
She stopped to exchange smiles and waves with elderly Mrs. Greenly, who was already out watering the baskets of petunias on her front porch. That was as predictable as most things that happened in Echo Falls. It was only recently that the foundations of her ordinary, normal world had begun to rock.
If Frank had been unfaithful to her, how much of that was her fault? It seemed so disloyal to be accusing him, even mentally, of such a thing. But she couldn’t deny that finding Sylvia’s necklace had opened a Pandora’s box of troubling thoughts.
What she’d said to Jason was true. She and Frank had grown up together. Now, looking back on it, she could recognize that the need to protect him had started early. Somehow she’d always known that he didn’t have the kind of relationship with his father that she’d had with Daddy. It had seemed inconceivable to her that he could be afraid of his own father.
She hadn’t thought of him in a romantic way until the summer he came home from law school—the summer a heart attack had taken Dad with a suddenness that had shaken the foundations of her world. Frank had been so good, grieving with her as strongly as if it had been his loss, too. Somehow, over that summer, things changed between them. They weren’t kids any longer, playing together, or teenagers, commiserating over each other’s crushes. They were adults, ready for love, and they’d turned to each other in a way that’d seemed almost inevitable.
When he’d gone back to finish law school, they’d been engaged. Frank had wanted to marry immediately, but his father had been opposed, and for once, she’d agreed with the judge. Her mother had needed time to adjust to the loss of her husband before thinking about her daughter’s wedding.
They’d had their engagement pictures taken by the falls, and she still remembered the mix of love and tenderness she’d felt at the moment.
Deidre was smiling at the memory when she crossed the street a couple of blocks from her house. Suddenly her mood changed. The hair at the nape of her neck seemed to rise. Someone was watching her.
She glanced around. Foolish. What if someone was watching her? She was out in public, after all.
Telling herself that didn’t seem to help. Another quick look around didn’t show her anyone moving on the now-quiet street. A half hour ago it had been bustling with kids headed to school and cars pulling out of driveways. Now it was deserted. Empty.
Nonsense. Even if someone was watching her, they wouldn’t do anything. Not in broad daylight. But she couldn’t stop her feet from moving more quickly. She wouldn’t run. But there was nothing wrong with walking fast, was there?
By the time she reached her own yard, the feeling had increased to a conviction. When the branches of the rhododendron in the corner of the yard rustled, she lost it, racing for the door, pulling her keys out as she did.
Two keys to fumble with—the regular door key and the dead bolt that Chief Carmichaels had insisted she lock. But it took too much time, and her fingers were icy in spite of the warmth of the day, and she’d never...
She swung open the door, darted inside, slammed it behind her and flipped the locks. For a few minutes she stood there, leaning against the door, half expecting to hear someone on the porch.
Nothing. Gradually her breathing settled, her pulse slowed and her common sense began to reassert itself. She was being ridiculous. She hadn’t seen a soul. Calling the police on no basis at all was out of the question. She needed to drown these morbid imaginings in work.
As always, there was plenty to do. Deidre started for the kitchen and froze, her mind scrambling to identify the sound from in front of the house. A swishing noise, as if something or someone had brushed against a windowpane.
The wind, she told herself, but a quick glance out the nearest window showed her that the trees and bushes were perfectly still. She was letting her imagination...
Something flickered past the living room window, caught just out of the corner of her eye...a change in the beam of sunlight streaming onto the carpet.
Grabbing her cell phone, she retreated toward the back of the house, away from whatever was out front. Ridiculous to think someone would try to get in during the day, but it would be worse to ignore it. If someone was there legitimately, he’d knock or ring.
Deidre listened, straining. Nothing. And then something scraped on the porch. Her overactive brain immediately provided her with an image of someone shoving the wicker table away from the window in order to look in.
That decided it. No matter how foolish it seemed, she’d call the police. But first she’d get farther away. Cell phone in hand, she hurried to the back door. Once she was outside, someone would hear her if she had to call for help. Inside...inside no one would hear, just as no one had heard Dixie if she’d cried out.
Deidre yanked open the back door and charged out, colliding with someone and stumbling back, a scream stifled in her throat.
“Billy! Goodness, you scared me.”
Poor Billy looked as if she’d frightened him just as badly. He stared at her, the whites of his eyes showing like those of a terrified animal.
“It’s all right,” she said quickly, fighting to regain her composure and more than a little embarrassed. “I just didn’t know you were here. I didn’t hear the truck. Were you out front just now?”
He seized on something he understood. “Truck’s broke down. I walked.”
Her breathing had steadied. “That’s too bad. Did you come to the front door?”
Billy shook his head, his eyes shifting from one side to the other as if afraid.
“I thought someone was on the front porch.” She gestured with the cell phone, forgotten in her hand. “Will you come around with me and see?”
His face set in the mulish look that meant he’d been asked to do something he didn’t want to do. “Best just go inside till they go away.”
“If someone’s there, I want to know who.” Amazing how much courage it gave her just to have another person there. She grasped his wrist firmly. “Come on.” Tugging him protesting behind her, Deidre marched around the house.
There was no one there, of course. An army could have come and gone while she was questioning Billy. The wicker table stood exactly where it should on the porch.
She glanced at Billy in apology. “Sorry. I guess I’m just nervous.”
His dark eyes met hers and slid away. “You gotta be careful,” he muttered.
The advice didn’t come as a surprise, but its source did. Or had Billy heard about the break-in?
“Why do you say that?”
Billy didn’t like being asked a direct question. She knew that. He backed away unti
l he bumped into the porch railing. He shrugged.
Deidre studied his face. Did he actually have a reason for the warning, or was it just the general fear that seemed to have permeated life here since Dixie’s death?
“I’ll be careful,” she said finally, knowing she wasn’t going to get anything resembling a reasonable answer from him. “Are you going to do some work today?”
He seemed to brighten at the change of subject. “Thought I’d do the trimming. Didn’t finish yet.”
Deidre nodded, walking with Billy back the way they’d come. She shot a sideways glance at Billy as they went. What was he thinking? It was often hard to tell, even though she’d known him all her life.
“Thanks for going with me,” she said.
He ducked his head in what might have been a nod, but he still seemed apprehensive. It was there in the way his eyes shifted, trying to take in everything at once, alert for any threat.
“I’m all right,” she added.
Billy’s face worked. She had the sense that he wanted to tell her something. She waited.
“You gotta be careful,” he said again, and turned away.
Deidre looked after him as he headed for the tool shed. What was behind all this? Did Billy know something? But what could he know?
Jason popped into her mind. He wouldn’t be content with nonanswers from Billy. He’d insist on answers.
She couldn’t. She couldn’t possibly start being suspicious of people she’d known all her life. That would turn her into someone she didn’t want to be.
* * *
BY THE END of the day, Jason still hadn’t had an opportunity to speak privately with the judge about Deidre and Kevin. If he’d heard about the break-in, which he undoubtedly would have, he was probably holding it as another black mark against Deidre—not that she could have prevented it.
Jason was still trying to reconcile the judge’s obvious bias against his daughter-in-law with his spotless reputation for scrupulous fairness on the bench. If he was as reasonable as everyone believed, surely he’d listen to Jason’s arguments.
