Present Day
The law offices of Donnelly & Buchanan were located on the twenty-first floor of the Northbridge Center in downtown West Palm Beach. Locals referred to it as the Darth Vader building because of its imposing all-black glass exterior.
When I exited the elevator and pushed open the glass door etched with the law firm’s name, I was surprised at how modern the office was. I had expected a law office that specialized in trusts and estates to be conservative, perhaps with leather wingback chairs and pictures of hunting scenes on the walls. Instead the reception area was decorated with low-slung tan leather Barcelona chairs, sleek aluminum tables and palm trees in square concrete planters. There was a large modern painting on the wall that I thought I recognized from K-Gallery. I looked closer at it and saw that the artist was Crispin Murray, whose work Kat often carried.
“May I help you?” the receptionist asked me. She was an attractive woman about my age with a sleek blowout and wearing a dark skirt suit.
“I’m Alice Campbell,” I said. “I have a two o’clock appointment with Mr. Donnelly.”
“He’s expecting you.” She stood. “I’ll take you back.”
I followed the receptionist down a long hall, admiring how deftly she navigated the dark hardwood floors in her cripplingly high heels. At the end of the hallway, she knocked on a door and then opened it.
“Mr. Donnelly, Mrs. Campbell is here to see you,” she said, then stepped aside so I could pass into his office.
John Donnelly stood and smiled when I entered. “Hello again, Mrs. Campbell.”
His corner office with two walls of floor-to-ceiling windows had an amazing view of the water and the island of Palm Beach beyond. After we shook hands, Donnelly sat down behind a large modular desk of dark lacquer that was bare except for a sleek tablet and gestured for me to sit in one of the caramel leather visitors’ chairs facing the desk. An enormous modern painting of a horse rearing up hung on the wall. With its bared teeth and flaring nostrils, the horse appeared menacing. I looked away.
“Thank you for coming in this afternoon,” Donnelly said. “Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, mineral water...?”
“Water would be great.”
“Evelyn, we’ll have sparkling water,” Donnelly said to the receptionist, who was still waiting at the door.
“Of course, Mr. Donnelly,” she replied. She disappeared and then returned almost immediately with a tray with two chilled glasses and a large bottle of San Pellegrino. She set the tray down on his desk and then turned to leave.
“Hold my calls,” Donnelly told her. He cracked open the cap, poured the water into the two glasses and handed one to me. I took a small sip to be polite—I detested sparkling water—and then set it down.
“I don’t know how you can get any work done with this incredible view,” I remarked, gesturing out at the panorama. The sun sparkled on aqua water, and a large luxury boat was making its way slowly down the Intracoastal. “I’d spend all day staring out at the water.”
“That’s the thing about life. You can get used to just about anything,” Donnelly deadpanned. “And anyway, working my ass off is the only way I can afford the view.” He winked. Even though this and everything else about him was borderline cheesy, I couldn’t help being charmed by the attorney.
“Thank you again for your help yesterday.”
“Don’t mention it.” Donnelly waved a hand at me. “And don’t forget what I told you. If the police want to question you again, call me first.”
“I’m assuming Kat sent you?”
“I’ve known Kat since she was a little girl.” Donnelly smiled, his teeth gleaming like a toothpaste advertisement. “She was a precocious child, as you might imagine. One time when she couldn’t have been more than five, I was meeting with her father at their house. She pulled me aside and asked what I was doing there. I explained that my job was to help people organize their family finances, while obviously doing my best not to mention death or anything else that might scare her. She looked at me with a very serious expression and said, ‘Well, just so you know, my daddy loves me best. Much more than my brother.’”
I smiled. “Kat told me she’s always been a daddy’s girl.”
“She definitely is that. And I think she was right. Her father always has favored her over Josh,” Donnelly admitted.
This was not surprising. I’d met Josh only a few times, but whenever I had been around Kat’s brother, I’d been struck by how pompous and self-congratulatory he was. He had the conceit to believe he had earned his place in the world, when in truth, everything he had in his life, from his two-thousand-dollar home espresso maker to his vanity job as a vice president of Wyeth Construction, had come directly from his father.
Donnelly was reading my mind. “Then again, who wouldn’t prefer Kat to Josh? She got the looks, the brains and the personality in that family. Kat has the whole package.”
“Speaking of Kat, I’ve been having a difficult time getting hold of her,” I said. “I’m sure she’s just overwhelmed with the funeral and all the emotions and details involved with Howard’s death. Will you please let her know I appreciate her sending you to help me out yesterday?”
Donnelly cleared his throat and folded his hands on the desk in front of him. “Kat didn’t send me.”
“She didn’t?”
“No. Her father did.”
I frowned. “But why would Mr. Wyeth do that? He barely knows me. How did he even find out I was at the police station?” But of course, I knew the most likely answer to this second question. Kat must have told him.
“Look,” Donnelly said, his smile still in place, “I’m sure you’re aware that Thomas Wyeth is a powerful man. He’s unhappy that the police are investigating Howard’s death as a homicide. It was hardly a secret that Howard Grant was a severe alcoholic. His death was obviously an accident. Everyone should just be glad that he wasn’t driving that night and didn’t kill anyone else.”
“That would have been terrible,” I agreed.
“Thomas is convinced that the police are pursuing this as a possible homicide only because of who he is. They don’t want to be seen as giving favorable treatment to Kat just because she’s Thomas Wyeth’s daughter,” Donnelly continued.
“Maybe. But the police told me they have a witness who claims he saw Howard being pushed off the balcony.”
Donnelly shrugged, clearly not impressed. “If they ask around long enough, they’ll find a witness who will say he saw a UFO land on top of the Grants’ house and little green men came out and zapped Howard with ray guns. Witnesses are inherently unreliable.”
“I don’t disagree,” I said. “I’m sure that’s why they questioned me. I know they’re trying to build a case. I’m just not sure whom they’re building it against.”
Donnelly nodded. “That’s why I asked you to come in today. In the future, the Wyeths would prefer it if you didn’t cooperate with the police investigation.”
“I don’t know what you mean by cooperating.”
Donnelly raised both of his hands, palms out, in a placating gesture. “Don’t misunderstand. No one’s accusing you of disloyalty. But the family would like your assurances that you won’t speak to the police again.”
“I wasn’t planning on it,” I said, feeling a growing sense of discomfort. I wasn’t sure what Donnelly was getting at. I didn’t often find myself in the position of not grasping a situation. It made me uneasy. “But what if the police want to speak to me again?”
“Then you call me. I’ll deal with it,” Donnelly replied, smile back in place.
“Look, I appreciate your help yesterday, and I don’t want to sound ungrateful. But the police weren’t just asking me about Kat or about her marriage to Howard. They asked me if I knew how to access the Grants’ house and they wanted to know where I was the night Howard died,” I said.
Donnelly waved a dismissive hand. “They were just trying to scare you.”
“Maybe. Or maybe they’re treating me as a suspect.”
“I doubt that,” Donnelly said. “You don’t have a motive.”
“I didn’t like Howard.”
“No one liked Howard.” Donnelly grinned. “Not to speak ill of the dead, but he was an asshole. If everyone who thought he was an asshole was a suspect, they’d have an overly large number of people to consider.”
Despite my growing trepidation, I cautiously returned his smile. I could see why Donnelly would be successful charming clients through the otherwise unpleasant process of drawing up a will. Actually, I wondered how much of that he did these days. It was becoming increasingly clear that he was in Thomas Wyeth’s inner circle. That in itself might be a full-time—not to mention quite lucrative—job.
“My point is, if there’s any possibility that the police are going to look at me as a potential suspect, even if it’s only a remote one, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to retain an attorney who isn’t obligated to put my interests first,” I added carefully.
Donnelly tipped his head to one side. “What would make you think I don’t have your interests at heart?”
I looked back at the attorney. Surely he didn’t expect me to join in a pretense that his main objective here was to help me.
“Look.” Donnelly sighed. “I know that Kat values your friendship, and I know you feel the same about her.”
“Of course I do,” I said, softening. The truth was, I missed Kat. The past few days had been stressful for me, and I could only imagine how much worse they’d been for her.
Donnelly folded his hands together, and he leaned forward slightly, like someone with a secret to share. “I’ve been authorized to tell you that the family will be generous.”
This startled me out of my nostalgic reminiscing. “Excuse me?”
“Any consideration would have to wait until the police investigation is resolved, of course,” Donnelly continued. “But once that’s concluded and Kat is in the clear, they are prepared to make a significant settlement on your behalf.”
A significant settlement. Translation: the Wyeths were offering me a bribe if I agreed to stay away from the police investigation. I stood. “I don’t want their money.”
“No, please. Sit back down. You’re taking this the wrong way,” Donnelly assured me, his tone soothing, a hand held up in protest.
“Am I? I don’t think so.”
“They aren’t asking you to do anything illegal or even unethical. They just want you to know that your loyalty will be rewarded.”
“I hope this is coming from Kat’s father and not from Kat,” I said. “If it is, I’ll overlook how incredibly insulting it is, because I know that parents will do anything to protect their children. But please make it clear to him that I find his offer offensive.”
Donnelly tapped his fingers on his desk, and for the first time in our short acquaintance, he looked serious. Finally he nodded. “I’ll tell him, if that’s what you want.”
“That’s what I want.” I turned to leave, figuring we had said everything. But Donnelly called after me before I reached the door.
“Thomas just wants to make sure that Kat is safe,” he said. “It’s the only thing that matters to him.”
I looked back at the lawyer.
“I hope she’s safe, too. She’s my best friend.”