PART THREE
Chapter One
ALICIA
I awoke the next morning with a headache again. This one felt like a hangover, it hurt right behind my eyes. When they had adjusted to the morning light coming in the window, I looked over at Adam still asleep next to me. He looked more peaceful than he had in a long time. I didn’t want to wake him; he could enjoy his dreams a while longer. I slipped out underneath his arm. We’d fallen asleep on the couch and the fire had died out in the night. There was a biting chill in the room. I took the afghan off of the back of the couch and laid it gently across Adam.
I had to get showered and dressed for my meeting with Miles V at nine a.m. He was lucky he’d been let out on bail, but I was still worried he would do or say something stupid and screw it up. I gave Adam a soft kiss on his forehead and went to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee brewing. Then, after laying out my clothes for the day, I got into a hot shower. I just stood there under the water for a while, allowing the warm water to release some of the tension that had embedded itself in my tired muscles. I eventually convinced myself to finish up and get out. I was wrapping up in a towel when I heard Alex in the next room on the phone. I peeked out to see him changing into one of the suits he leaves at my place with the phone tucked under his chin.
“Alex, I was with Alicia last night, I told them that. No, I didn’t give them any more information. What was I supposed to do? I realize that. I am an attorney, and I tell my client’s not to speak to police without me present, but I was present. It is the same. Okay, fine, you’re right. I won’t speak to them again without Mac. Yes, we are still on for lunch. I will see you at noon. Alex, do you think this has anything to do with… Okay, we’ll talk about it later.”
I stood silently as I listened to the last part of Adam’s conversation. What did he mean by asking Alex if he thought “It” had anything to do with… With what? I closed the door quietly and hurriedly dried myself off and slipped into the robe I kept hanging in the bathroom. When I opened the door to the bedroom, he was no longer there. I found him in the kitchen pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“Hi,” he said with a smile when he saw me. “You want coffee?”
“Yes, please.” His smile took me somewhat aback at first, but I was glad to see it.
“How are you feeling?” I asked as he handed me a mug.
“Like I drank a bottle of whiskey last night,” he said with another smile. I couldn’t help myself, I smiled back.
“Me, too,” I told him. He sat his cup down and opened his arms. I melded into him and wished that we could stay right there like that all day.
Adam kissed the side of my face. “I better let you get ready for work.”
I sighed. “Yes, I suppose I should. I heard you speaking to Alex earlier, is there anything I should know?”
Adam looked at me like he wasn’t going to answer before he said, “No, honey. I’m just getting a little paranoid, I guess. I was asking Alex if he thought Marjorie’s death had anything to do with my involvement with the oil spill and the Presidential campaign. We’re getting so much bad press and pressure from all types of radical groups. What happened to Vick… Anyways, he assured me that what happened to Vick, and ultimately to Marjorie, are very likely not connected.”
He put his hand on the back of my head, and pulling me gently towards him, he placed his lips firmly on my forehead. “Just be alert, and always careful. I couldn’t bear it if anything ever happened to you.”
I just nodded slowly. I didn’t know what to say to that. I hadn’t even considered the possibility that I might be in any type of danger. I was well aware that politics, big business, and massive amounts of money could make people do crazy things, but Adam wasn’t so involved in any of it that someone would want to hurt people he was close to, was he? We were simply the attorneys…right?
I gave him a soft kiss on the lips and said, “You be careful.”
********
My meeting with Miles was actually short and painless. He’d asked me to meet him at the bakery near my office and we talked over croissants and coffee. He assured me that he was going to keep his mouth shut. I think the arrest had scared him a little once he was faced with the real possibility of jail time.
We set up another meeting before his arraignment the following week, and I gathered my things and headed down toward the office. I was walking across the courtyard when I saw something that stopped me in my tracks.
Two men were standing near the edge of the sidewalk. I was too far away to hear what we were saying, but the man facing me looked agitated and the man with his back to me was waving his arms as he talked. They were both well dressed, and I absolutely recognized the one facing me as Alex. The other, although I couldn’t see his face, closely resembled Jack. I stood watching for a minute hoping the man would turn towards me.
They seemed to have reached a boiling point though and the man facing away from me pushed his body up against Alex in an aggressive nature. I was sure we were about to come to blows when suddenly, the other man stepped back and shoved past Alex, taking off down the sidewalk at a hurried pace.
Alex stood there watching him go for a few seconds, and then glancing in both directions quickly, he hurried across the street away from the courtyard. His eyes skimmed across me, but the courtyard was already filling with people in business attire and I don’t think he realized it was me.
I was confused. I didn’t think that Alex and Jack knew each other. What could they possibly have to argue about? I told myself that maybe I had been mistaken about it being Jack. After all, I hadn’t seen the other man’s face. Maybe it hadn’t been Jack at all, but whoever it was is not a fan of Alex, that was for sure.
I continued my walk to the office, and when I saw the reporters out front, I cringed. Fortunately, our security was there, as well, and they forced the crowd to clear a path for me to the door. They couldn’t stop the reporters from yelling out their intrusive and insulting questions and comments, however.
“Ms. Winston, did Mr. Hanson kill his wife? Are you sleeping with him? Were you sleeping with him while we were still together? Was he getting back together with her? Did you assault her in your office yesterday?”
I had seen plenty of media circuses in my few years as an attorney, but had never been at the center of one myself. It was disturbing, but I tried to practice what I always told my clients, “Hold your head up, act like they’re not there, don’t respond, and don’t take any of it personally.” My own advice was harder to take than I had ever known. Just as the door was opened for me by the building doorman, Rose Dugan came up behind me and asked,
“Ms. Winston, did you kill Marjorie Hanson?”
I looked in her direction, but thankfully caught myself before I replied. Don’t let her get to you, I told myself and continued into the office. I breathed a long sigh of relief as the doors swung closed behind me.
Carla was at her desk as usual with my messages sorted and ready for me. As she said good morning and handed them to me, she asked, “How are you doing?”
I smiled at her. “I see you’ve heard what happened last night?” When she nodded, I said, “I’m doing as well as you would expect. I do appreciate you asking.”
Once I was in my office with the door closed and hopefully the world shut out for the time being, I took out my file on Miles V. I flipped through the pages until I got to the statements that Miles IV and his daughter had given to police the day after Miles’ third wife was killed. I winced as I read the words the police had taken down as they spoke to Miles IV.
“Mr. Brigham, why was your wife out climbing in the wilderness, along a steep cliff, alone?”
“Because she was a spoiled, selfish little viper,” Miles had told them, as if a matter of fact.
“And by that, you mean what?” the detective had asked him.
“Just what the hell I said. We had an argument, about money, again. She spent my money like there was going to be no end to it. We had planned on a climbing trip that day to de-stress. What a joke that was. I got to listen to her bitch and whine and pout until I could hardly stand it any longer. She gave me an out by telling me to go on and leave her alone. I did just that. When I got back to the lodge later and found out she hadn’t returned, though, I went right back out to look for her.”
“And discovered her, dead,” the detective had said. “Mr. Brigham, do you believe your wife’s death was an accident?”
“If you’re asking me if I think someone killed her, the answer is no. No one cared enough about her to even expend the energy, I think. She just shouldn’t a been out there alone. She was stupid, plain and simple. I was stupid to for leaving her out there and I feel bad about that, but you have to believe me that girl was proof positive you can take the girl outta the trailer, but you can’t take the trailer outta the girl.”
It went on like that for three pages. I sat it down for a few seconds and massaged the leftover headache behind my eyes.
I just couldn’t believe that a man could be so smart in business and finance that he had amassed a veritable fortune, and yet he could also be completely ignorant to the fact that you couldn’t just go around saying whatever you felt like, giving no consideration to what it may make people think of you or what the consequences may be. I was about to pick the file back up to continue reading when my phone rang. It was the investigator, Brett.
“Ms. Winston, I found out why the feds are interested in David Tyler.”
“Why?” I asked, anxious to hear the answer.
“Mr. Tyler apparently has some information with regards to a fortune in missing campaign contributions. Mr. Brigham’s money was apparently not the only funds Mr. Landon had misappropriated, and Tyler has agreed to testify before the Grand Jury regarding all of that, as well as naming others that were allegedly involved.”
“Wow,” I said with a sigh. “This thing is a lot bigger than I thought.”
“Do you want me to keep digging?” Brett asked. “Maybe see if I can come up with some names of people he’s fingering, stuff like that?”
“Yes, Brett, thanks,” I told him. I hung up and tried to sort out my thoughts. I was starting to get more than a feeling that somehow everything that was happening led back to the oil spill. That was where this mess had all started. Miles was being sued by some very angry people. Vick was stealing from some very powerful people. Lots of them had motive to want Vick dead, and many of them also had motive to want Miles to be blamed for that murder.
I hated to think it, but even Alex had a stake in all of this. Once Vick was killed, Alex was able to step right into his position as campaign manager for the President of the United States. That was a position that some people would kill for.
I shook off that thought. I was being silly and as Adam had said this morning, a little paranoid. Alex was Adam’s good friend. He wasn’t a murderer.
I thought about Marjorie then. How did she tie in to all of this, or did she at all? Was her murder, coming so close on the heels of Vick’s, just a coincidence? None of it was making much sense to my tired brain.
I looked at the clock and realized it was mid-afternoon. I hadn’t eaten a thing all day. I grabbed my purse, and decided to take a walk to the sandwich kiosk down the street. As I stepped outside of the office, I took a deep breath of the fresh, cold air. The reporters had disbursed some, and the few that were left yelled out some questions at me that I let fall on deaf ears. I took my time walking. The city was decorated beautifully for the Christmas season. I strolled along and tried to lose my stress in the beauty all around me.
When I got to the kiosk, I ordered a turkey sandwich and a coffee. I took them to a bench in the little park across the street and sat down. Just as I was about to take a bite, I heard Jack’s voice, again, “Hi.”
I looked up at him. I didn’t want to be angry or suspicious right then so I just said, “Hi.”
“May I join you?” he asked, holding out a sandwich and coffee he had in his hands.
“Sure,” I told him. “I’m not the best company today, though.”
“It’s alright,” Jack told me sounding sincere. “I understand you’ve been through a lot. How is Adam holding up?”
I studied his face, trying to ascertain if he was still being sincere. I didn’t see anything threatening there, however, so I said, “He’s doing as well as can be expected, I guess. It’s been a rough couple of days.”
“I can’t imagine,” Jack said between bites of his sandwich. “The news reports are calling him a ‘person of interest’ in Marjorie’s death. Did you see the press conference today?”
“No…what press conference?” I’d suddenly lost my appetite.
Between bites of his sandwich, Jack said, “The Chief of Detectives was asked by one of the reporters if Adam was a suspect. He said no, however, Adam was a person of interest.”
I knew well from my job that being a person of interest in a murder case was not good. What it technically meant was that the police had no evidence that Adam was involved, however, they had strong suspicions about him. What it said to the public unfortunately was that Adam was guilty, and the police just didn’t have enough evidence to convict him. It was a term that could very well ruin a person’s life.
I had defended a man not long ago in a civil suit who had been declared a person of interest in the death of his wife. That man had lost his job; his friends and family no longer wanted to have anything to do with him. His credit was ruined, and the worst part as far as I was concerned, was that I had firmly believed he was innocent.
“I’m sorry, Jack,” I said as I got up from the bench. “I need to get back to the office.”
Jack stood, as well. “I am really sorry I upset you,” he said. “It wasn’t my intention.”
“I know,” I told him. “I just need to get back to work. I’ll speak to you later.”
He said okay and I began to walk away. I got a few steps down the sidewalk and turned back around. “Jack, do you know a man named Alex Fritz?”
“Hmm, the name sounds familiar, but I can’t place it. Who is he?” I wasn’t sure, but I thought there was a slight change in Jack’s demeanor. He looked worried or anxious, maybe.
“Just a friend of Adam’s,” I told him. “I thought maybe I saw you with him earlier today. I must have been mistaken.” With that, I turned back around and continued my walk back to the office.
I waited until I was almost a block away before glancing back again. The man I had seen arguing with Alex this morning had been wearing a black suit and overcoat. When I looked back, Jack was walking away in the other direction. The overcoat was thrown over his arm, and his black suit really stood out against the light cover of snow on the ground. I was sure it was him.
I continued on my walk back to work, stopping at a small newsstand about a block from the office. The little Chinese man who waited on me could barely speak English, yet he knew enough to point at the front page and say, “The lady looks like you.”
I gave him a tight smile paid for my paper, tucking it under my arm as I went on my way. When I was back in the safety of my office, I opened it. There was Adam and I on the front page. It was mostly me since I had turned to look at Rose Dugan. Adam was holding my hand, but he was still facing the other way and trying to pull me along behind him.
The look on my face was sure to not win me any fans. Rose’s question about the fight with Marjorie had thrown me off guard. I was looking at the camera with daggers in my eyes. Not exactly the face of a woman who was broken up about the loss of a life that had just taken place.
I folded it closed with the intention of tossing it in the recycle bin, but then with a heavy sigh I opened it once again. I was compelled to see what Rose Dugan had written. I hated to, but I had to admit that the girl was good. Although she used words that would float heavy suspicion around both Adam and I, she was very careful to state only facts and nothing that we could possibly use later in a libel suit.
For instance, there was no mention of the fight. It had only been witnessed by Carla and since I was sure that it must have been Marjorie who had given her the information, the informant was now dead and wouldn’t be here to back it up in court if it had come to that.
My headache was growing again. I still had so much to do, both here at work and to get ready for my parents’ visit. I hadn’t even gone grocery shopping yet. Tossing the paper in the recycle bin where I should have put it in the first place and glancing at the gorgeous diamond that Adam had placed on my finger only the night before for strength, I got back to work.