The Associate (24 page)

“Joan. She left within three months. She visited me several times at the hospital while I was recuperating. The last time, she told me that she couldn’t stay in Desert Grove any longer.”

“Was there a theory about the identity of Paul McCann’s killer?”

“No. I’m certain that McCann and Lester Dobbs killed Patty, and that the same person murdered McCann and Dobbs. In the end, the most widely accepted theory was that an outsider was behind the plot.”

“Do you believe that?”

“Absolutely not,” Alvarez said, his voice as hard as granite.

“What happened to Gene Arnold?”

“I hired the best criminal lawyer in Arizona to represent Gene. He convinced Ramon that there wasn’t enough evidence to hold him. It was obvious to everyone that Melissa’s clothing and the car had been planted at the cabin. The crime lab was all over the place and couldn’t find any evidence that Melissa or Gene had been there recently. Melissa’s body was never recovered, so there was no forensic evidence connecting Gene to the murder. All they had were the arguments and Ramon wasn’t going to prosecute Gene on the basis of a few domestic spats.”

“Were there any new developments after you were shot?”

“Not until now.”

“Can you think of anything else that might help, Mr. Alvarez?”

After a moment Martin shook his head. “You realize, of course, that Gene’s death may have nothing to do with what happened here. It was a long time ago.”

“That’s true, but Aaron Flynn . . . The coincidence bothers me.”

“Life is full of coincidences.”

Kate stood and extended her hand. “Thanks for seeing me.”

Alvarez took her hand and held it for a moment before releasing it. Kate handed him her card.

“If you think of anything else, please call me.”

Martin nodded just as his assistant appeared on the patio.

“Anna will see you to your car. Good luck.”

Martin Alvarez watched Kate Ross cross the terrace. Though she looked nothing like Patty, the investigator reminded him of her. They both had the same purposeful stride, and Patty had always shown a core of strength that he sensed in Kate Ross. Alvarez closed his good eye and rubbed his temples. There were times when he imagined that his wife was still with him, taking her morning ride, just out of sight and soon to return. Thoughts like that were calming, like a belief that he and Patty would be reunited in a life after death.

There were other times when memories of Patty stoked an impotent rage. It was that rage that was building as Martin entered the hacienda and went to his office. As soon as he closed his door he picked up the phone. A man answered in Spanish.

“You know who this is?” Alvarez asked.

“Yes.”

“I have work for you. Come on the evening plane.”

Saturday morning, Daniel bolted out of sleep thinking that he was still in his cell. When he realized that he was safe in Kate’s guest room he fell back on the bed. Daniel was normally an early riser, but he had slept past nine. Just being in a place where the lights were not on twenty-four hours a day and screams and moans did not jerk him awake at all hours had been a luxury greater than silk sheets.

There was a note from Kate on the kitchen table. She had taken an early flight to Arizona and hadn’t wanted to wake him. He wished she had. He remembered how happy he had been to see her waiting for him at the jail and he missed her already.

Daniel reread Kate’s note. He liked holding something that she had touched and reading something that she had written just for him. Kate was very kind and very thoughtful. There hadn’t been many people like that in Daniel’s life. In truth, Kate was the single positive note in the sorry mess that had become his life. Despite their barely knowing each other, Kate had made sure that a top defense attorney represented him, she was paying some of his legal fees, and she was letting him stay with her—knowing that he was charged with murder. Her support conveyed her complete confidence in his innocence. He couldn’t imagine getting through his ordeal without her.

After breakfast, Daniel wandered aimlessly around the house, flipped channels on the television, and quickly lost interest in a science-fiction novel he found in Kate’s bookcase. Its plot wasn’t nearly as surreal as his life. What had happened to him? A little more than a week ago he’d been living a dream he had never dared imagine as a child. Now someone had stolen that dream. Daniel wanted his life back.

One of the worst things about jail was being forced to stay inside. Daniel realized that he needed to get out in the world. He called Joe Molinari.

“How’s the convict?” Molinari joked.

“I’m cooped up at Kate Ross’s house and I’m going nuts.”

“Ross, huh? That’ll make juicy office gossip.”

“There’s nothing to gossip about. I’m hiding from reporters and Kate was kind enough to put me up.”

“Of course.”

“You’re a pig, Molinari.”

“I assume you didn’t call just to insult me.”

“True. Do you want to go for a run? I’ve got to get some exercise.”

“Sounds good.”

“Can you drive me over to my apartment so I can get my car and my running gear?”

“No problem. See you soon.”

A fire-engine-red Porsche pulled up in front of Kate’s house. Joe honked the horn and waved.

“Jesus, Molinari, I’m trying to be inconspicuous.”

“Don’t worry,” Joe said as he peeled out, “you’re too ugly to attract attention. Everyone will be looking at me.”

Daniel relaxed and enjoyed the ride. It was cool, but the sun brought everyone out and the streets of northwest Portland were crowded with strolling couples.

“Go around the block once,” Daniel instructed when they were a few streets from his apartment building. “I want to make certain that there aren’t any reporters waiting for me.”

“This celebrity thing is going to your head. Who do you think you are, O.J.?”

“Hey, I’m feeling a lot of empathy for O.J. at the moment.”

As the Porsche cruised by Daniel’s apartment house, a large man in jeans, a black windbreaker, and a baseball cap came out of the front door and crossed the street to a black pickup truck. He looked familiar, but Daniel was certain he had never seen him in the building. When they came around the block the next time, the pickup was gone.

Molinari parked in the street and Daniel ran up the stairs. Kate had been right about the chaos inside. The cops had obviously never heard that neatness counts. Daniel didn’t feel like dealing with the mess right away. He grabbed his workout gear and changed in the bathroom, then he stuffed some extra clothes in a duffel bag and ran down to the small lot at the side of the building where his car was parked.

With Molinari following behind, Daniel drove past the zoo and the Forestry Center and parked up the road from the Vietnam Memorial. The two men stretched before taking off through the woods along one of the trails that wound through Washington Park. It took a while for Daniel to get his rhythm, and it didn’t help that the first half mile was uphill.

“Feel like telling me what’s going on?” Molinari asked.

“You shouldn’t get involved.”

“From what I can see, you don’t have too many people on your side. I’d like to be one of them.”

Daniel knew that he probably shouldn’t talk about his case with Molinari, but Joe was one of the few people at the firm who’d stood by him. And he was smart. Maybe Joe would see something that he had missed. It would also be a relief to be able to talk about everything he’d kept bottled inside.

Daniel started with the night that Susan conned him into reviewing the discovery and ended with his arrest. The only part of the story he omitted was the call from Arthur Briggs and his presence at the cottage. The prosecutor couldn’t prove he’d been at the scene of Briggs’s murder and Daniel didn’t want to make Joe Molinari a state’s witness.

“Any brilliant insights you’d care to share?” Daniel asked when he was through.

“Not really, but it’s sure a funny coincidence that Flynn got lucky again so soon after finding the Kaidanov letter.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jaffe demolished Fairweather under oath. After Oregon Mutual sees a transcript of her testimony they’ll be begging Reed, Briggs to settle and Flynn will collect a nice fat attorney’s fee.”

As they ran up a small rise Daniel suddenly remembered that Flynn had sent one of his associates to sit in on his hearing. An odd thought occurred to him. Did Flynn know what was going to happen when Fairweather took the stand? Was Flynn the guardian angel who sent Amanda the videotape of Fairweather’s speech?

“You know, I just got a crazy idea,” Molinari said as they started downhill. “Do you think it’s possible that Aaron Flynn has a mole at Reed, Briggs?”

“Like in the spy novels?”

“Seriously, think about it. How did Kaidanov’s letter get into the box of discovery? How did a tape from Arthur Briggs’s office find its way to Amanda Jaffe?”

The trail narrowed and the men ran single file in silence until it widened giving Daniel time to think. He liked Flynn. He remembered how natural he’d been with Patrick Cummings. Daniel knew that Flynn was flamboyant and aggressive. He didn’t want to think that he was dishonest.

“Someone at Geller could have included Kaidanov’s letter by mistake when they compiled the discovery,” Daniel said.

“You told me that everyone at Geller swears that they’ve never seen that letter or the Kaidanov report,” Molinari countered.

“They would if they’re lying.”

“But how would someone at Geller know about Fairweather’s case?” Joe insisted. “It has nothing to do with Geller Pharmaceuticals. If someone at Reed, Briggs sent Amanda that tape to help Flynn they could also have slipped the Kaidanov letter into the discovery.”

“Okay, suppose you’re right. Who’s the mole?”

“Oregon Mutual was Briggs’s client, so, technically, the suit against Fairweather was Briggs’s case, but Brock Newbauer and Susan Webster were doing most of the work on it. They’d know about the videotape.”

“Brock and Susan are also on the Insufort team,” Daniel said.

“Something happened after you left that fits into my theory,” Joe told Daniel. “Briggs called a meeting on the day he was killed to discuss what to do in the Insufort litigation. Brock Newbauer was complaining that he wanted Geller to settle, but Briggs wouldn’t listen to him.”

“Is Brock running the Geller defense now?”

“Technically, but I’m guessing that Susan is calling the shots.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Brock only made partner because his family owns Newbauer Construction, one of our biggest clients. He’s a joke around the firm. Haven’t you noticed how long he takes for lunch, and have you ever smelled his breath when he gets back? He could never get a handle on a case as complex as the Insufort litigation. The science would be beyond him. Briggs represented the Newbauer account, which brings in mucho dinero. He had to baby-sit Brock to keep the client happy.”

“And you said that Brock wanted Geller to settle?”

Molinari nodded.

“If Flynn does have a mole at Reed, Briggs that’s exactly what he would want.”

The next morning, the sun was hiding behind a lead sky and there was a threat of rain in the chill air. Daniel was sore from his run and he limped out of bed. After breakfast, he watched the first half of a Seattle Seahawks’ game on TV, but Kate’s house was beginning to feel claustrophobic. He remembered the mess in his apartment and drove over at halftime.

The apartment didn’t look any better than it had the day before. Daniel turned on the football game and watched while he straightened up. Everything was in decent shape by the time the game ended. Daniel was wondering when his life would be put back together when the phone rang. His hand hovered over the receiver as he debated whether to take the call. He had no desire to talk to a reporter, but it could be a friend and it would be nice to talk to someone who cared enough to call.

“Hello?”

“Daniel Ames?” a man asked. He had an accent—Slavic, Russian perhaps.

“Who is this?”

“We have to meet.”

The man sounded desperate.

“About what?” Daniel asked cautiously.

“I witnessed Arthur Briggs’s murder.” The answer was rushed. “I know you didn’t kill him. That’s why you’re the only one I can trust.”

The hair stood up on the back of Daniel’s neck. “Dr. Kaidanov?”

“Will you meet with me?”

“Will you go to the police and tell them I’m innocent?” Daniel asked excitedly.

“We must talk first.”

“Fine, where are you? I’ll come right away.”

“No, not in daylight. You might be followed. Tonight at ten come alone to Rest of Angels Cemetery. I’ll meet you near Simon Prescott’s mausoleum.”

“You’re joking?”

“I lost my sense of humor when those bastards tried to kill me at the lab.”

“But a cemetery, after dark?”

“Rest of Angels is where my mother is buried. Are you going to be there?”

“Yeah, don’t get excited.”

“I’ve earned the right to be excited. I’ve been running for my life for almost a month. You should be able to relate to that.”

As soon as Kaidanov told Daniel how to find the mausoleum, he hung up and Daniel dialed Kate’s house, hoping that she was back from Arizona, but all he got was her answering machine.

Daniel left for Rest of Angels at 9:30 without having heard from Kate. The main gate closed at sundown. Kaidanov had instructed him to park in a housing development that was separated from the cemetery by a shallow ravine and a quarter acre of forest. Daniel put up the hood from his windbreaker. Heavy rain had turned the walls of the ravine to mire. He slid down one side then scrambled up the other. By the time he was out of the depression, he was shivering and covered with mud.

Rest of Angels sprawled across a hundred and twenty-five hilly and wooded acres overlooking the Columbia River and was surrounded by another hundred and seventy-five acres of forest. On summer days the cemetery was a serene and picturesque shelter for the dead. When Daniel broke out of the forest, the rain-slashed graveyard looked like a set from
Dracula
.