Just Cause (17 page)

Laurel sat back in silence. That troubled her, too.

“Well, we’re closer to solving this thing than we were this morning,” Jim said. “My investigator has narrowed the suspects among Simon Brothers’ employees down to three: a secretary, a file clerk and Arthur Simon’s personal assistant. We’re doing background checks on them to see if we can find a link. Personally, I like the assistant for this. She’s more likely to handle sensitive material like that.

“Great.” Dan stood up. “Are you going to call the bank?”

“Yes. I’ll set up an appointment with the bank manager and go over to discuss this with him in person. They can check the records to see who held the box this key goes to. I doubt Laurel’s name is on it, because she’d have had to sign when the box was rented. If it’s not, but Bob’s name is, we’ll need a warrant to access the contents.”

That evening, Dan rowed Laurel to the middle of the lake. The moon rose, three quarters full, and they sat in its soft glow, looking across the water at the sharper dots of cottage lights sprinkled along the far shore. The flat surface of the lake looked so solid in the moonlight that Laurel felt she could step over the side and walk back to the dock.

“I want to ask you something,” Dan said. “Don’t answer right away, just think about it.”

She lowered her lashes. “What is it?”

“Will you marry me when the trial is over?”

She sat on the stern seat, looking at him. He had shipped the oars and was watching her, his earnest gaze full of love.

“Dan, I—”

“Don’t answer yet. Please. At least give me a few minutes to hope.”

His solemn voice brought Laurel a wave of remorse. The last thing she wanted to do was to hurt him again.

“I told you, I can’t promise. If things go wrong, I can’t—”

“If things go wrong, we’ll make a new plan. Laurel, I love you so much, and I know you feel the same way about me.” He grasped her hand and brought it to his lips. “We belong together, so please think about it.”

She
had
thought about it, many times. Lifting her eyes to the starlit sky, she knew what she wanted. More than anything, she wanted a future with Dan, an unpretentious house…and gray-eyed babies.

Dear God, please, give us a chance.

“All right,” she said, “I’m thinking about it. I’ll give you my answer when the trial is over.”

He moved carefully from the middle seat to the stern and sat down beside her, drawing her into his arms in one fluid motion and kissing her with all the hope she had handed him in the moonlight.

On Friday Jim came to the cottage with news.

“The safe-deposit box was opened this morning in the presence of the district attorney and myself. It was full of documents,” he told Dan and Laurel.

“What kind of documents?” Laurel asked.

“Copies of contracts and estimates from H & B, all dated within the last year of Bob’s life.”

Laurel swallowed hard. “What did they tell you?”

“I haven’t had time to read everything yet, but Jack Brody is the one who signed off on all the materials for the Maple Grove Bridge. I’m not sure Wayne Hatcher knew about the steel switch. It looks to me like it was all Brody’s idea. He saw they’d cut it too close on the bid and ordered the inferior stock. But I don’t know why Hatcher is keeping him on in the firm, now that he knows. It’s costing him plenty to redo that job.”

“Don’t forget, Jack is Renata’s brother,” said Dan.

“She and Jack are very close,” Laurel agreed. “And she wears the pants. I don’t think she’d let Wayne boot Jack out of the company, even if he pulled a stunt like that.”

Jim nodded. “We also learned H & B put in their bid on the bridge at the last minute. They had prepared a proposal, but they held it until the morning the bids were due. Then Brody revised it, lowering their bid a quarter of a million.”

Dan whistled. “He had to know what Simon was proposing.”

“I think so.”

“And Bob found out how they were doing it,” Laurel said.

Dan nodded. “He must have. The way I see it, he confronted his uncle. Told him he had this evidence, but not where he was hiding it.”

“But Jack couldn’t have killed him,” Laurel reminded him. “He has an airtight alibi.”

Jim waved his hand in dismissal. “He hired it done.”

Laurel swallowed. Which was worse, a family member pulling the trigger, or a hired assassin?

“Oakland Limited seems to be involved in the bridge project, too,” Jim said.

“What’s that?” Dan asked.

“It’s a concrete company,” Laurel said immediately. “H & B subcontracted to them a lot.”

“So, if H & B got a fat contract, Oakland Limited would profit, as well?”

“I suppose.”

Jim nodded. “We found records of payments to them before and during the bridge construction.”

“Is that significant?” Laurel shook her head doubtfully. “They gave Larry a lot of business.”

Dan did a double take. “Larry, as in Larry
Let’s-quit-the-golf-game-I-have-a-headache
Mason?”

Laurel stared at Dan. “You don’t think—”

“I’m willing to think anything at this point.”

She turned to Jim. “Do you think Larry Mason is mixed up in the underbidding?”

Jim raised his eyebrows. “I have an open mind.”

The last few days before the trial crawled by. Laurel wished she knew if the state police had moved yet on the material found in Bob’s cache, and if any arrests had been made. No hint of the potential scandal made the local news broadcasts.

Dan explained that if his department in Ohio handled a case of conspiracy and industrial espionage, the detectives would move slowly, even if it were connected to a two-year-old murder. They would perform their own investigation, not just accept at face value what an attorney’s private investigators handed them. It might be weeks before Jack Brody and Larry Mason faced charges. And so Laurel waited for the trial to begin.

She spent a quiet hour on the dock Saturday morning, while Judy made a trip into town for groceries. Her helplessness and frustration grew as she mulled over what they knew. When Judy returned, she brought sandwiches and iced tea to the dock and sat on the edge, dangling her bare feet in the water.

“Any news?”

“No. Dan’s still sleeping, and Jim hasn’t called.”

“Laurel, I know this man Larry was supposed to be Bob’s friend, but…”

“I know,” she groaned. “I keep thinking about what he said on the witness stand, about me being a better shot than him. And I was!”

“He knew about the gun.”

“Yes. He was at our house all the time. He knew exactly where Bob kept it.”

“Could Larry have done it?”

“He picked Bob up that morning, before I left for Bangor. During their golf game, he claimed he had a headache, and they drove to our house. Maybe Bob offered him some aspirin. Anyhow, he went in the house with Bob. He didn’t need an excuse. He was a frequent guest, and he and Tina had a key to our house. It wouldn’t matter if he left fingerprints around the house, except for on the murder weapon.”

Judy kicked up a little spray of water. “But if they were so close, why would this Larry want to kill Bob?”

Laurel shrugged. “It’s all tangled up in the bidding and the bridge project. I just hope what they found in Bob’s safe-deposit box will answer all the questions.”

Judy looked toward the cottage, and Laurel followed her gaze. Dan was coming down the path.

“Morning, ladies.”

“You look more rested,” Judy said.

“Thanks. I think I’m catching up, finally.” He sat down in a deck chair next to Laurel. “I just spoke to Lieutenant Powers. He told me Jessica Alton has been trying to get a message to me.”

Laurel raised her eyebrows. What could Jessica be dying to tell Dan?

He smiled and took her hand. “It may ease your mind a bit. Remember the two guys chasing you in Ohio?”

“How could we forget?” Judy asked.

“Well, one of them talked. Jack Brody hired them to find you, Laurel. Seems the bank notified Bob’s parents’ attorney that they had a safe-deposit box in Bob’s name and it should be considered part of the estate.”

“What does that have to do with Laurel?” Judy asked.

“They figured she had the key.”

“Could they have opened it even if they had it, with the estate tied up in court?” Laurel asked.

“Maybe not, but I figure it this way. Wayne was upset, because by the time they learned about the box, his company was in trouble, thanks to Jack.”

Laurel nodded. “And Renata must have told Jack about the key.”

“Sure. Jack would want to see what was in there, not only before the lawyer did, but maybe before Wayne did, too.”

“So he set the bloodhounds on you.” Judy grimaced. “Good old Uncle Jack.”

“He’s not doing so well,” Dan said with a frown. “He had a massive heart attack.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Judy warned him. “He would have killed you, and you know it.”

“Yes, and the men he hired to find the evidence tried to kill Laurel and me in Ohio. If Jack survives, he can be charged with murder-for-hire. And maybe Renata can, too, as an accessory.”

Laurel’s stomach roiled, and she touched his arm. “Let’s get through this trial first, okay?”

Dan squeezed her hand. “You’ve got it. We’ll let the police worry about the rest of it now.”

O
n Saturday, they held their final pretrial conference with Jim Hight.

“Wear something feminine, but not too fancy,” Jim told Laurel. “And don’t wear your hair like that.”

Laurel put a hand to her temple.

“What’s wrong with it?” Dan asked. Judy had French-braided Laurel’s hair that morning, and he thought it looked good.

“We want a softer image, more sympathetic,” Jim said. “Grieving widow wrongly accused, easily hurt. Loose hair, full skirt, no cleavage.”

“I get the picture,” Laurel said acidly.

“Here’s the scoop.” Jim opened a folder. “My investigator found the link.”

“What link?” Laurel demanded.

“Arthur Simon’s personal assistant. She’s Larry Mason’s cousin.”

“So Larry got his cousin to peek at the bids for him?” Laurel asked. “I can’t believe this.”

“And paid her well for it. He passed the information on to Brody. Brody made the final bid for H & B, so H & B got the contract…and Larry got a hefty kickback.”

“Bob knew Jack was doing it, but he didn’t know how,” Dan said.

“If he’d known Larry was in on it, he wouldn’t have been playing golf with him.” Laurel shook her head.

“I think you’re right,” Dan agreed. “Bob threatened to expose Jack, and Jack was scared. Getting hit with big penalties for the materials scam was one thing, but Brody knew he could go to prison for cheating on the bids. He and Larry and the assistant would all be charged with conspiracy. Maybe Wayne Hatcher, too. Jack counted on Larry to fix it.”

“Oh, no,” Laurel breathed. “Uncle Jack wouldn’t want Larry to kill Bob and frame me.”

“Jack probably didn’t know Larry would shoot him,” Dan said. “He might have told him to take care of things and expected him to reason with Bob. Or, if that failed, threaten him.”

Laurel shuddered.

“Bob didn’t scare easily,” Jim said. “Anyway, we’re turning all the information over to the district attorney today. We’ve got proof Larry was paying off his cousin, and she’s likely to confess. We’ve also got the records of H & B’s payments to Mason’s company. There’s more money there than his concrete work accounts for.” Jim tossed the file folder on his desk. “So relax, have a quiet Sunday and be on time at the courthouse Monday morning.”

“We’re going to church tomorrow,” Laurel said.

Jim shrugged. “Suit yourself. It’s so close now, it can’t hurt much. But no hand-holding in public, and under no circumstances do you talk to reporters.”

Laurel sat tensely quiet through the jury selection Monday morning. The imposing courtroom, with its arched vault and long, red-draped windows. intimidated her. Dark portraits of justices from a century ago stared down dispassionately from their gilded frames high on the walls. Dan’s father would love to work with the wide cherry boards of the wainscoting.

Laurel never spoke as Jim Hight questioned potential jurors in his turn, disqualifying a few and accepting others. Dan and Judy were not allowed in the courtroom during the process. By noon, the twelve jurors and three alternates had been chosen. Jim drove her to the appointed meeting place, a restaurant a few blocks from the courthouse.

“It’s all set,” Jim told Dan as they took their menus. “The session opens at one.”

“Good!” said Dan. “Let’s get it over with.”

“Don’t sit right behind us, where the family sits. I don’t want reporters asking who you are, Ryan, and I don’t want the jurors making the romantic connection. It still might matter.”

“Even with the new evidence?” Judy asked.

“A jury trial ain’t over till it’s over,” Jim said.

Dan squeezed Laurel’s hand under the table.

Jim lowered his voice. “I did my best this morning to have the case dismissed. The prosecutor and I met with Judge Hurst in his chambers early. I took a copy of the statement Jack Brody made to the police. His doctor told him he may not make it, and he came clean. He admitted trying to kill Dan because he didn’t want Dan to expose him. But His Honor says that’s not enough to throw this trial out.”

Laurel listened attentively, wondering whether to muster hope from the turn of events.

“Come on, it’s the motive,” Dan said.

Hight shook his head. “Hurst says that doesn’t prove that the bid-fixing is directly related to the murder, and Jack has an alibi for that, so we have to proceed. If Brody had admitted to killing Bob or conspiring to kill him, that would be another story, but as it is—well, I can introduce this bidding mess during direct examination, but I’ll have to be careful.” He opened his briefcase on the corner of the table and pulled out a manila folder. “Take a look at this, Ryan. Sergeant Theriault brought it over to my office this morning.”

“What is it?” Laurel asked, looking over Dan’s shoulder as he opened the folder.

“It’s a copy of the original report made the day of the murder by the two officers who went to your house. I skimmed it, but I didn’t see anything new.”

Dan began reading the papers.

A man in a suit stepped up to their table. “Excuse me, Mr. Hight, I’m with the
Kennebec Journal
. May I ask you a few questions?”

“Oh, great!” Jim stood up and put his long, muscular body between Laurel and the reporter. “My client would like to have a quiet lunch here, if you don’t mind.”

“But, sir, if you’d just give me a few minutes—”

“I’ll give you this—Laurel Hatcher is innocent. Please leave us alone.”

“Come on.” Dan scooped up the folder and led Judy and Laurel quickly away from the table.

“What about Jim?” Laurel asked as they hurried to the car.

“He can fend for himself. We’ll catch up with him at the courthouse.”

Dan drove to a deli and left the two women in the car while he ran inside for sandwiches and cold drinks.

Laurel had done everything they’d told her to: worn a full, gray-blue skirt and a spotless white blouse, fixed her hair in soft, flowing waves, put on her wedding ring. But she couldn’t eat.

Dan smiled sympathetically at her and read the police report while he ate his sandwich.

On the way back to the courthouse they passed the Kennebec County Jail, with its cold granite walls and the exercise yard beside it, with rolls of coiled razor wire along the top of the high fence. Laurel took a shaky breath and turned away.

Jim joined them in an anteroom across the hall from the courtroom.

“Find anything in that police report?”

“Two neighbors saw Larry’s car at the Hatchers’ house that day,” Dan said. “One fits the time Larry says he dropped Bob off…the other thought it was later.”

“Yeah, we went through all that last time.”

“Can somebody talk to those neighbors again, Jim? They’re on your witness list, but you decided not to call them.”

“Because Larry admits being at the Hatchers’ that morning.”

Dan frowned. “The time element bothers me. The autopsy puts the time of death as between 1:00 and 2:00 p.m.”

“So?”

“So one neighbor said he saw the car there at one-fifteen.”

Jim eyed him carefully. “Do you want to skip the opening session and go talk to them? It probably won’t do any good.”

Dan looked at Laurel. She wanted him there in the courtroom, but this was the only lead they had come up with. If Bob’s carefully compiled documentation of the fraudulent bidding wasn’t enough to exonerate her, they had to follow up any other possibility, no matter how remote. Time was running out.

“The neighbors are all we’ve got,” he said. “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead,” she said. “Judy will be here.”

Laurel shivered as she entered the courtroom beside her lawyer. There had been no chance to have a last, private word with Dan, no sustaining embrace, no encouraging squeeze of the hand.

In his opening statement the state’s prosecuting attorney, Myron Jackson, described Laurel to the jury as a discontented young wife. She had tried to persuade her husband to leave his father’s business, abandon his family and move with her to another state. When Bob refused, Laurel grew resentful. She fought with her husband in front of his family and contemplated divorce. In the end, after an argument in their home, she killed him.

Laurel blanched as the diatribe went on. She could almost hear Renata delivering the litany. She stared straight ahead, at the court recorder who clacked on and on, taking down the words.

Jim’s opening statement presented a different picture of Laurel. She was a bereaved woman wronged by her in-laws, her friends and the state of Maine. He recounted the hardships she had suffered since her husband’s death.

“And we will show,” he declared to the jury, “that Laurel Wilson Hatcher did not kill her husband. She loved her husband. She knew he was in some kind of danger, and she wanted to help him. She certainly didn’t want him dead. And the state cannot prove that she did. But we will show that someone else wanted him dead, someone who saw Bob Hatcher as a threat.”

The state began calling its witnesses. The medical examiner was first. His detailed account of the cause of death brought back the vivid memories Laurel had tried so hard to suppress. She had known it would be like this, but the intensity of the images still shocked her.

At last the doctor left the stand, and the patrolmen who had responded to her frantic call the day of the murder testified.

Renata Hatcher took the stand, regal in a mauve suit, her eyes dramatically shadowed. Her gaze swept the courtroom, fastening on her daughter-in-law with such hatred that Laurel flinched.

“Tell us about the relationship between your son and his wife,” Jackson instructed her.

“They had their differences. I heard them argue many times,” Renata said calmly. “She nagged at him, trying to get him to move away and give up his position at Hatcher & Brody. She kept him stirred up and discontented. My son was very troubled by it.”

“How would you describe their marriage?”

“Laurel Wilson never loved my son.”

Jim rose. “Objection.”

The judge nodded. “Sustained.”

Laurel couldn’t stop the tears from trickling down her cheeks. She bit her top lip, yearning for Dan’s comforting embrace.

Jim put Renata through a scathing cross-examination, putting in doubt her assertions that Laurel had prepared to leave her husband. When Renata left the stand, Judge Hurst recessed court until the following morning.

Once the jury left the room, Laurel got shakily to her feet. Dan entered and came quickly to the defense counsel’s table and put his arms around her.

“I told you not to do that,” Jim said under his breath.

“Buzz off,” said Dan.

Laurel chuckled against his shoulder. She knew a torrent of tears was just a breath away. “Can we leave?”

Dan squeezed her. “Is there a back way out of here?” he asked Jim.

“If you’ll let go of her, I’ll show you.”

On their way out of the courthouse, they dodged reporters and photographers, but in the parking lot Laurel unexpectedly came face-to-face with Tina Mason.

“Tina, I’m glad to see you.”

Tina faced her without smiling, a crease between her eyebrows. “Larry and I go back a long time with Bob.” She looked hard at Laurel. “Renata Hatcher’s had her own way for too long. You oughtn’t to lose everything like that.”

Laurel was surprised, and she smiled in gratitude. “Thank you for coming.”

Tina turned her gaze on Dan, and Laurel felt her face flush.

“Your lawyer has Larry down as a witness,” Tina said. “I suppose they’ll ask him about the golf game again.”

“I suppose,” Laurel said.

Tina’s eyes narrowed. “They’re trying to connect Larry to this mess Wayne Hatcher’s in about that bridge he built in New Hampshire.”

“I’m sorry.” Laurel swallowed hard, not sure what else to say. How much did Tina know about her husband’s involvement in the bidding fraud?

“Come, Laurel, you can’t discuss this,” Dan said softly. She turned and walked with him to the car.

“Find anything?” Jim asked when the four of them were settled before the fireplace at the cottage.

“Maybe.” Dan took out his notebook. “I think those witnesses will help us.”

Jim picked up a pen and tapped it on the desktop. “Tell me.”

“Well, the neighbor on the east side of Bob and Laurel’s house, Mrs. Harris, says she saw Bob arrive home about 11:30 a.m., in a blue sports car. He and the driver went inside. She wasn’t sure how long the guest had stayed, but that jibes with Larry Mason’s story.”

“I remember her,” Laurel said.

“What else?” Jim leaned back in his armchair.

“The second neighbor, Frederick Wells, lives across the street. He said he saw the car in the Hatchers’ driveway when he went outside after lunch, at approximately 1:15 p.m.”

Jim shook his head. “That’s almost two hours later. Mason didn’t stay that long.”

“I know, but Mr. Wells won’t back down on it. He’s positive of the time, and he says he told the police about it when they first came around after the murder. He said he doesn’t know what Mrs. Harris saw, but it was definitely Larry Mason’s car that afternoon. Larry visited Bob a lot, and Mr. Wells said he’d met him a few times. The car had a country club parking sticker in the rear window on the passenger side. Wells says he noticed it that day. And he’s a retired navy commander. He’d be a credible witness.”