Weekend Warriors (17 page)

“Did you make a delivery to Myra Rutledge and did you stay overnight and sleep in your truck while it was parked at her estate?”

“Why are you asking me these questions? Technically you’re the police. I didn’t do anything wrong. Hell, the woman hasn’t even paid for the stuff I dropped off.”

“What did you drop off?”

“First I think you better tell me why you want to know.”

“I’m the one asking the questions, Ms. Lucas.”

“And I’m the one that isn’t answering. If there’s nothing else, Mr. Emery, I’m going to hang up. I need to pay attention to the road. By the way, I’m in Kansas.”

“When do you expect to hit Virginia?”

“Three days, four at the most. I have to drop off some lettuce in North Carolina.”

“I’d like you to stop by my offices when you get here.”

“Again, Mr. Emery, why? Look, if those bathroom fixtures are defective it has nothing to do with me. I just pick up and deliver. You’re making this sound like I need a lawyer. If I do, I’ll give you her name now and you can take this all up with her. I might be picking up a load of pine straw in North Carolina so I can’t say for sure where I’ll be. She’ll know how to get in touch with me.”

“Okay, what’s her name? You did say her, didn’t you?”

“Nicole Quinn. Her office is on G Street. If there’s nothing else, I have to sign off here.” Kathryn allowed a smile to tug at the corners of her mouth when she heard him curse under his breath. She broke the connection and tossed the cell phone on the seat next to Murphy. He nudged it until it was behind him. He stretched out, his tennis ball between his paws.

Kathryn yanked at the baseball cap that said Lucas Trucking, settling it more firmly on her head. She adjusted her sunglasses and concentrated on the road in front of her as she tried to imagine what Clark Wagstaff, Sam La Fond and Sid Lee were doing. Murphy slept on the seat next to her.

 

 

Jack Emery stared at the phone on his desk. His heart pounded in his chest when he bellowed for his assistant. “Harry, get on the horn with Judge Olsen. I want a court order to impound Kathryn Lucas’s truck. The minute she crosses the state line into Virginia, I want that truck snatched. I don’t give a shit what’s inside it. And while you’re at it, put out an all-points on her. Pick it up yourself and get it to me as soon as you can. Why are you still sitting there? When I tell you to move your ass, I mean move your ass. Now, goddamn it!”

Jack leaned back in his chair staring at nothing, his eyes glazed. A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. He reached for the phone and managed to send the papers on his desk flying in all directions. He bent down to pick them up. He stacked them any old way on his desk and then blinked at what he was seeing.

“Hey, Conrad, come here a minute,” he called to another A.D.A. “Does the name Isabelle Flanders ring a bell with you? I know I heard that name somewhere. Take a look at this picture. It’s kind of grainy because it’s a fax. Does she look familiar to you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, she made the news a few years back when she killed a whole family driving in a hurry somewhere. Your girlfriend defended her. Lost the case. I think she was an architect. Why?”

“Just a detail that has to do with something I’m working on,” Jack responded, sticking to his credo of not divulging details to those around him. It wasn’t that he tried to hog the glory like Nik always accused him of doing. He was simply thorough, preferring to stack his bricks in a neat column so they wouldn’t tumble down and make him look like a fool.

The sick feeling was getting worse. He reached for the phone and for a second time, ignored it. “Conrad, call Judge Olsen’s office and tell him I need another court order for Myra Rutledge’s house. Get Harry on the phone and tell him not to come back here unless he has both of them in his hands.”

“Why am I doing your shit work, Emery?”

“Because I told you to do it and I have seniority. Just fucking do it, Conrad.”

This time when he reached for the phone, he actually dialed the number he wanted. Nik’s cell phone number.

“Nik, it’s Jack,” he said the minute Nikki said hello.

“Listen to me, Nik. I’m on my way out to the farm. I have a court order, so don’t try to evade me. We need to talk. I have the court order,” he lied, “but I don’t want to come out there as Jack Emery, D.A. I want to come out and talk to you as Jack Emery, your friend. We were friends, Nik. I’ll be there in an hour and a half.”

“All right, Jack.”

Jack beelined for the men’s room, where he lost his lunch.

Charles and Myra watched as Nikki walked out to the long driveway. By craning their necks they could see Jack Emery’s car at the gate. Myra reached for Charles’s hand. “This isn’t good, is it, dear?”

“No, it isn’t good. The really bizarre part of Mr. Emery’s case is, Nikki really didn’t have anything to do with spiriting Marie and her family to safety. I just don’t know at the moment how it is all going to play out. It looks to me like he’s studying the High Voltage sign attached to the gate. I’m sure he’s wondering if it’s real or not.”

Myra leaned over and pressed her face against the window. “I think he is studying it, Charles. I think it was a stroke of genius to screw that sign on the gate. It gives one pause for thought. Are we, you know, going to . . .
take him out?”
Myra asked nervously. “That could stir up a whole can of worms, Charles.”

“I know. I’m thinking, Myra. I wish I knew what they were saying to each other.”

“Let’s make a cake, Charles,” Myra said, pulling him away from the window. “One of those seven-layer chocolate ones with pudding between the layers and real thick frosting all around. Nikki’s going to need something sweet after this little talk she’s having with Jack. She loves him so much. Love can be blind at times. I’ll turn on the oven.”

Outside their line of vision, Nikki walked up to what Myra called the walk-through gate and out to Jack’s car. She opened the door and climbed in. She sighed, wishing she could lean over and kiss him. She realized she could if she wanted to. Instead, she said, “I really don’t want to love you anymore, Jack. However, I think I’m one of those people who only love once. Don’t look at me like that, Jack.”

Jack pointed to the High Voltage sign. “Isn’t that new? Why does Myra Rutledge need a sign like that?” Nikki shrugged. “Listen, Nik, I need to talk to you. Jack and Nik, okay? Not prosecutor and lawyer. Can we do that?”

“We can try, Jack.” She shivered inside her light sweater. Jack pulled her closer and put his arm around her shoulders. She knew she should move away, but she didn’t because his arms felt so good. A flood of memories washed through her.

“This is what I have, Nik. I’m going to lay it all out for you. There’s a strange group of women who come out here. You defended Isabelle Flanders and lost her case. Nobody could have won that one, so you shouldn’t condemn yourself. Then there’s the doctor married to the senator. Very high profile couple. She’s not operating anymore, for some strange reason. Tops in her field, too. Guess she’s going to fill up her days by playing cards with Myra. The Chinese girl and the tall, leggy black girl just don’t fit the scene. Do you know what I mean? They’re more your age and yet they come out here to do whatever it is they do. Myra couldn’t seem to get her card games straight.”

Nikki forced a laugh. “Sometimes they play Fish. It’s more the companionship than the card playing. Myra needs to be around younger people. Are you saying you think all these women helped me spirit Marie Lewellen away? That is so outrageous, so off the top, I can’t even give it credence. I had nothing to do with it, Jack. I swear to you on Barbara. What’s it going to take to convince you?”

“I don’t know. My gut is telling me I have to pay attention. I’m trying to do that. I want to see all the stuff Lucas delivered. She said she slept in the truck the night of the storm. I have some trouble with that. Why didn’t Myra invite her to stay in the house? That would have been the decent thing to do. She lied to me about the driver, too. She referred to the driver as him. Not her. Him. She was very specific about him and his dog.”

“I can’t answer that, Jack. I wasn’t here when she talked to you. I knew the driver was a woman because Myra said it was a woman. I remember thinking she must be pretty strong to drive a big rig like that.” She shrugged. “A slip of the tongue. Whatever. Myra thinks women should stay home and knit and do good deeds. That’s fine if you don’t have to work for a living. Obviously the driver has to work for a living in order to eat and pay her bills.”

Jack stared off into space. “I have an all-points out on her and the truck. The minute she crosses the state line we’re hauling her in. We’ll impound the truck and sweep it clean.”

Nikki shrugged again. “I guess you have to do what you have to do. It’s not going to get you anywhere, Jack, because she had nothing to do with it. You’re grasping at straws here to make yourself look good.”

“Is that what you
really
think, Nik? It happened on my watch. My boss is on my ass. You’re threatening to sue the department. You know for every action there is a reaction. You’re the one who told me that.”

“I’ll represent Ms. Lucas if you kick up a fuss, Jack. All this ugly stuff will come out. That probable cause crap isn’t going to hold up and you know it. Myra is
very
influential. She knows everyone worth knowing. Senator Webster will come down on you like a ton of bricks if you even mention his wife and Myra in the same breath. She lost a million dollars, Jack. Yeah, I know you think she has money to burn, but she doesn’t. She donates to every worthy cause there is. She’ll hire some thousand-buck-an-hour attorney and he’ll smash you to a pulp before you can say, I’ll see you in court.”

“Is that supposed to scare me, Nik?”

“No, of course not. I’m just telling you what you’re up against if you take on Myra. That’s your plan, isn’t it? I know the way you operate, Jack. You’re working this on your own because, as you said, you like to get everything airtight before you spring your trap. You really should share all this with your boss before you end up making a mess of things. Keep your friends close, your enemies even closer. That kind of thing, right?”

Jack’s stomach worked itself into a knot. “Let’s check out those bathroom fixtures.”

“Why not,” Nikki said, getting out of the car. “Be sure to bring that court order. Myra will want to see it.”

Jack plucked it off the dashboard and handed it to Nikki. “Okay, this says you can search the garage, the barn and the house. Let’s go. Oh, one more thing, when you haul the truck driver in, I want to be there. I’ll do it pro bono. I mean it, Jack, don’t question her until and unless I’m present.”

Jack snorted. “How do you even know she’ll want you to represent her? If she has nothing to hide, why does she need a lawyer?”

“To protect her from you. Besides, I am her attorney. She came to see me once but I couldn’t help her.”

“What did she want you to do for her?”

Nikki swatted him with the court order. “That’s attorney-client privilege. You know better than to even ask. Go ahead, I’ll wait here. The stuff is in the garage. There’s a crowbar in there if you want to open the boxes.”

When Jack joined her twenty minutes later, she said, “four bathtubs, one misty green, one powder blue, garden tub in daffodil yellow and one in shell pink. Matching shower enclosures. Toilets same color with matching toilet seats. Two double sinks, one single and one with three basins. The vanities have to be built. Did I forget anything?”

“Yeah, the blueprints.”

“Myra can show you those. I wish you’d stop being such an asshole.”

Jack stomped ahead of her. “Let’s go see those blueprints. Of all the architects in town and the surrounding area, why did Myra pick Flanders? She has a shitty reputation.”

“You’ll have to ask Myra yourself, Jack. Bathroom remodeling is not my forte. Aren’t you going to check the barn?”

“When I’m ready,” Jack snapped. Nikki opened the screen door that squeaked just the way a screen door is supposed to squeak.

“Oooh, what smells so good? Are you making a chocolate cake, Myra?”

“Yes, dear. Just for you. Hello, Jack, how are you?” Myra asked cooly.

“Fine, thank you.” He nodded in Charles’s direction. “I’d like to see the blueprints for the bathrooms.” His tone was just as cool as Myra’s.

“Charles, take Jack to the summer pantry. Isabelle is working there because I didn’t have any other available space for her. Do not
touch
anything.

“Would you rather have stuffed peppers or pork chops for dinner, dear?”

“Stuffed peppers. How about pickled red beets and the wilted lettuce with lots of bacon in it. Lots and lots of mashed potatoes.”

“I think Charles can manage that. I wish I was half the cook he is.”

“Satisfied?” Nikki asked sourly when Jack followed Charles into the kitchen. “Now what? If you want to check the rest of the house, go to it. He has a court order, Myra. That means he can do whatever he damn pleases. That includes going through your drawers.”

“I-don’t-think-so!” Myra said, rearing up on her chair. “You try doing that, young man, and I’ll call the police commissioner personally. And the mayor.”

Jack wagged his finger under Nikki’s nose. “You really are a troublemaker. I’m not going through your drawers, Myra. However, I will open your closets and look inside. Don’t worry, I won’t
touch
anything.”

“Don’t expect us to help you. Go to it, Sherlock,” Nikki said.

Jack returned to the kitchen thirty minutes later, his face bleak with disappointment.

“I guess I’ll see you to the gate. Ooops, you gotta do the barn, don’t you.”

“Yes, I have to do the barn,” Jack said, slamming his way through the open doorway. Nikki followed him.

“Don’t spook the horses and don’t—”

“—
touch
anything.” Jack whirled around, his face full of disgust and anger. “What is it with you rich people?” He looked down at his hands. “Do you think us poor commoners have some kind of disease on our hands? That we aren’t good enough to touch your precious belongings? I’m doing my goddamn job, is what I’m doing. If you don’t like it, screw you.”

“Jack, I didn’t mean . . . Jack . . .”

When he returned, his face was still full of disgust. “You better walk me to the gate and let me out so I don’t
touch
anything. Right now I’m wondering how the hell I ever fell in love with you.”

“Jack . . .”

“Get out of my way, Nik. Don’t worry, I’ll have someone call you when we bring Kathryn Lucas in for questioning.”

“I’m . . . sorry, Jack.”

“Sorry is just a word. Now get the hell out of my way.”

Tears streaming down her cheeks, Nikki turned away.

 

 

Fifty-six hours later, Kathryn saw and heard the siren at the same moment the Malinois slammed his body against the door. “Easy, Murph, easy. I see them.” She slowed the rig and pulled to the shoulder a quarter of a mile down the road. In the side-view mirror she saw the cop exit his squad car. She watched as he leaned against the door. A second police car came out of nowhere and pulled in front of her. The second cop got out of his car and started to walk toward her just as the first cop swung around to the passenger side of the rig. Murphy, his hair on end, lunged at the door.

The CB squawked. “Hey, out there, this is Cornball, looks like Big Sis hit a spot of trouble. Sis, need any help?”

Kathryn picked up the CB. “Don’t know yet, Cornball. Stay on my six and let’s play it out. I’m riding empty this leg and heading home.”

“Gotcha, Sis. Blue Rider is a quarter of a mile up and slowing down. Give us two blasts and we’ll close in.”

“You got it, Cornball. I’ll leave the power on so you can hear.” She leaned out the window but didn’t say anything. Murphy was in her lap, his head next to hers.

“Are you Kathryn Lucas?”

“I am.”

“We’re impounding this truck. Follow the first car. I’ll be behind you.”

“Do you have a warrant?”

“No, ma’am, but there is one at headquarters. The district attorney said you would come in willingly.”

“All right, but only if my lawyer is present. If you can’t arrange that, I’m not moving this truck. Call it in and let me know the answer.” Kathryn moved back from the window. Murphy continued to growl at the officer standing below him.

Kathryn risked a glance in the rearview mirror. Her eyebrows shot upward. She started to laugh when she saw the caravan of eighteen-wheelers spread out across the road. She looked forward and saw the same bridge a tenth of a mile up the road.

Ah, the power of the open road. Alan always said trucking was a noble profession because on any given day the drivers could bring the entire country to its knees simply by not turning on the engines. For one brief moment she felt almost invincible.

His hand on his holster, the first cop bellowed, “What the hell is going on here?” His voice sounded jittery to Kathryn’s ears. She smiled.

The second cop looked back over his shoulder and then forward. Kathryn could see the sweat bead up on his forehead. The first cop looked up at Kathryn and said, “Get on that CB of yours and tell those truckers to disperse now.”

Kathryn picked up the CB and said, “This is Big Sis. Listen up. These two fine officers standing next to my truck told me to get on this CB and tell you to
dissss-perse
now. She listened, the grin staying on her face as the truckers, one by one, professed to have serious engine problems.

“Officer, they seem to be having difficulty with their engines.”

“Tell them to call the goddamn auto club!”

“This is Big Sis again, boys. These fine officers want you to call the auto club.” She listened, her face going pink.

She leaned out the window. “I don’t think you want to know what they said. They want to know if you have the number of the auto club. So, is my lawyer going to be there or not?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why didn’t you say so?” She reached for the CB. “Cornball, this is Big Sis. I’m okay. I’m going to follow the cops. They’re impounding my truck and taking me to the district attorney’s office. I’m going willingly. That’s just for the record, okay. Thanks for your help.”

“Any time, Sis.”

As each truck roared past her, it gave two sharp blasts that she returned in kind. Murphy howled his outrage at these goings-on.