Just Cause (10 page)

“The police said so. I didn’t check.”

“So nobody could have gotten in there unless Bob let them in.”

Laurel shrugged. “I’ve thought about it, and I don’t see how.”

“Okay, it was Saturday. Bob played golf that morning.”

“Yes, with his friend Larry.”

“Oh, yes, Larry.” Dan smiled grimly. “Bob’s best friend, who did his best to put you away for life.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Sounds like it to me.” Dan flipped through the court transcript. “Here it is, right here. ‘Laurel could beat me any day with a handgun. Prosecutor: Did you ever see Mrs. Hatcher fire her husband’s nine-millimeter pistol? L. Mason: Yes, she and Bob were target shooting with it in the fall, before the murder. She knew how to handle it.’”

“But that’s all true.” Laurel remembered the day Larry went with them to practice at the shooting range Bob had set up in a gravel pit. “We shot a lot of cans and targets that day. Larry’s pretty good. Not as good as Bob was.”

“Not as good as you, either, apparently,” Dan said.

She closed her eyes. She didn’t like to think Larry believed she had killed Bob. He’d always been friendly to her. He and his wife, Tina, socialized with her and Bob.

“So they played golf that morning,” Dan went on.

“Right. They played fairly often. I didn’t think Bob would get home until late afternoon, and I went shopping.”

“But he beat you home. His car was in the garage when you got there?”

“Yes.”

“That would be the Corvette.”

“Yes. Does it matter? Larry drove that day.” Dan’s tone irritated her. He sounded a little too much like the state prosecutor. “Is there a problem? Other than my husband being murdered, I mean?”

He winced. “No. I’m sorry. Let’s get back to what your mother-in-law said about the arguments.”

She leaned back in the chair, regretting her hasty words. “Renata hated me. She’d ask Bob to do things with her and not include me. I tried to laugh it off, but it hurt. He spoke to her about it, and for a while things were better, but not much.”

“So you had a fight?”

Laurel sighed. “I wouldn’t have called it a fight. But I got careless and said something I shouldn’t have in front of his mother. She grabbed it like a frog going for a fly. Used it to prove that I hated Bob’s family, had no respect for my elders and didn’t appreciate anything the Hatchers had done for us.” She shook her head. “I prayed and cried over that. I’d tried to be careful and never give her a reason to criticize. As long as she hated me for no reason, I could bear it. But when I’d actually committed an offense, I couldn’t defend myself.”

Judy stood and collapsed her lawn chair.

“I need to get ready for the concert. You’d better get moving, Dan. Or have you got your tux in your pickup?”

“Afraid not. Guess I’d better go. I’ll pick you both up in an hour.”

Laurel’s heart surged, but Judy laughed. “In your truck with two instruments? No thanks. We’ll meet you at the hall. You can bring Laurel home if you want.”

Laurel walked with Dan through the breezeway to the garage.

“Dan, is there something about the Corvette? You seemed to bridle at that.”

He gave her a sheepish smile. “No. I don’t have a problem with the Corvette. It’s just…I was feeling a little jealous, I guess.”

“Because of Bob’s car?”

“No, silly. His wife.”

T
he string quartet was scheduled to perform after several other artists in the concert. Laurel sat by herself in the second row at the community college auditorium, nervously waiting for Dan, Judy and their friends to come onstage. An a cappella choir, a solo pianist and a jazz guitarist came first. She sank back in her chair, relaxing as the melodies filled the hall.

She had seen Judy’s black gown, and Dan had met them at the stage door when they arrived, so she was prepared for the group’s formal attire. Dan in a tuxedo had taken a moment to assimilate. His friend Joe, the cellist, laughed at her expression.

“Hey, Daniel, hasn’t this gal ever seen you in anything but a uniform?”

Laurel had blushed and stammered, but Dan didn’t seem embarrassed when he introduced Joe and Marcia. She wondered if she should have worn something more formal herself, but when she went to join the audience, she found herself surrounded by teenagers in jeans and families in casual attire. Her print skirt and corduroy vest were a bit dressier than what most of the audience wore.

The quartet was announced, and Laurel held her breath. They were beautiful, all four of them, and their music almost painfully perfect. Judy especially impressed Laurel with her skill in Beethoven’s “Opus 18 No. 5.”

Mozart’s “Eine Klein Nacht Music” was one of Laurel’s favorite pieces, and the entire ensemble played brilliantly, with the notes leaping out, fresh and bright.

As she watched Dan’s face, a deep longing grew inside her. She wanted to understand this part of him. He focused intently on the music during those few minutes. He wasn’t as proficient as Judy, but he was very good. She wondered how old he had been when he first held the bow in his hand. Only an excellent musician could keep up the tempo they maintained on the Beethoven piece.

The quartet received a thunderous ovation from the crowd, and she wondered if they would play an encore, but the master of ceremonies moved along smoothly to the next act, a vocal duet. Laurel wished she were backstage with Dan and the others. As the applause for the singers began, Dan slipped in beside her.

Laurel sat back, enjoying just being with him. The rest of the program whizzed by, and suddenly the emcee was thanking the audience and the performers.

Judy pushed through the crowd to the end of their row. “Marcia, Joe and I are going for coffee. Want to come?”

“Do you think it’s safe?” Laurel asked as they edged into the aisle.

“We’d probably better skip it,” Dan said. “Sorry. We took a chance letting you come here.”

Judy nodded. “Okay, next time. You’ll take care of Laurel?”

“Of course.”

Dan drove at a leisurely pace, hating to arrive at Judy’s house because that would mean he had to go home to change for his security shift at the hospital. He had a half hour to spare, and he intended to make the most of it.

He turned onto the main road that led north and reached for Laurel’s hand.

She smiled at him. “I have some good news. The hospital is going to let me work at home. Judy fixed it as promised. I can pick up the pictures and hard copy anytime during the day and take it home to work on.”

“Fantastic!” At least one thing was going right for her.

“You have to work again tonight, don’t you?” Her brow wrinkled. “You look tired. Drop me off at Judy’s and go take a nap.”

“There’s no time. But I have more questions for you.” He paused. “There’s something significant out there, Laurel. We just don’t know what it is yet.”

She took a deep breath. “All right, then. Fire away.”

“When did Bob get the Corvette?”

“About four months before he died.”

“Who paid for it?”

“Uncle Jack.”

“Jack Brody.”

“Yes. It was a gift.”

“And Uncle Jack made a habit of giving Bob expensive gifts?”

“No.” Her brown eyes were troubled. “That bothered me a little at the time.”

“Why?”

“As you suggest, it was unusual. Jack said it was because Bob was doing such a terrific job, but I wondered if it was supposed to be a…”

“A bribe?”

Laurel ducked her head. “Bob wouldn’t be bribed. His mother tried that.”

“Seriously?”

“At one point his dad wanted him to sign off on a bid that couldn’t be executed without using substandard materials. Bob wouldn’t do it. His mother figured she could change his mind and dangled a big bonus in front of him. But Bob told them he was ready to quit before he’d do anything underhanded. They lost the bid.”

Dan sighed. “Okay, forget that angle.” He saw a deep bereavement in her eyes and knew he had put that look on her face. “Laurel, I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “You have to ask me these things. I understand.”

“I wish I knew if it was worth it.” He squeezed her hand. “I don’t want to make you dredge up painful memories. But if there’s any way to help you—”

“It’s worth it,” she said. “As long as we keep at it, I have hope. Besides, I get to be with you.” She smiled then, the heart-stopping smile that had captivated him the first time he saw her. “So, what other personal questions do you have for me?”

He signaled for his exit and looked over at her. She was so beautiful—her thick hair rippling over her shoulders, her deep brown eyes that penetrated into his heart.

His resolution to keep things in low gear was long gone, but he didn’t care. He would use all his strength to clear her name. In his mind he was starting to see a future for them, full of sunlight and green meadows and laughing children.

He decided to go for the question that had been haunting him. “Why didn’t you have any kids?”

She locked her hands together and sat looking out the window, silent for a long moment. “We planned to,” she said finally. “Bob thought we should wait a couple of years. We were young. He wanted to get firmly established in his career.”

“So, it was Bob’s choice?”

She shrugged slightly. “I suppose so. We made the decision together, but it was his preference.”

“If it had been up to you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me,” he said gruffly.

She seemed to struggle with the answer, and he regretted putting her on the spot.

“Sorry. Forget I asked.”

“No. It was high on my list. But…we didn’t fight about it, if you’re wondering.”

“I wasn’t.”

“I just felt I needed to defer to him in that, at least for the time being. Children were part of his plan, just not the immediate part.” Her voice caught. “We did things Bob’s way, and I don’t regret that. I would have loved to have a child, but now I’m grateful we didn’t. I shudder to think what would have happened when I was in jail. I had no family. Renata would probably have had custody.” She leaned toward him, her eyes gleaming with a ferocity he’d never seen in her before. “I still want children someday.”

“I hope God gives them to you.” His throat felt tight as he flipped on his turn signal. Judy’s house was dark, and he eased the pickup up to the garage door. Laurel raised the remote opener Judy had entrusted to her and pushed the button. As the door slid up, the headlights illuminated the interior of the garage.

“Judy should have left the light on.” Dan pulled the pickup inside, and Laurel hit the button on the remote once more, to lower the overhead door. As he slipped the gearshift into Park and reached for the ignition, a sudden movement to the side startled him and a rush of adrenaline hit him. A dark-clad man stood beside his door.

Laurel gasped and Dan sensed without looking that a second figure had edged in past the rear bumper on the other side. He stayed his hand and left the engine idling.

“Get out,” a man in a knit ski mask ordered, pointing his Glock at Dan’s face from the other side of the glass.

“Laurel, don’t move,” Dan said.

He heard her labored breath, but she said nothing.

“What do you want?” Dan called. He hadn’t opened the door yet, springing the locks.

“Get out!” the man demanded.

Glittering eyes showed through round eyeholes in the mask. Without moving his lips, Dan said softly, “Laurel, when I tell you, get down.”

He heard the second man yanking at the door handle on Laurel’s side. Dan reached slowly toward the gearshift.

The man beside him whacked the butt of his pistol against Dan’s window. “I said now!”

“Get down!” Dan ducked as he shifted into Reverse. He felt Laurel dive and heard the explosion of the Glock’s load as the side window shattered. Glass sprayed over his arm.
God, help us
.

He stood on the gas pedal and they roared back, smashing through the garage door and dragging a large panel down the driveway. He whipped the truck around on the lawn and shoved the lever into Drive. A bullet pinged against metal, but he didn’t think it entered the cab. He straightened the wheel and gunned it down Judy’s street.

“Laurel?”

She stirred and he glanced over in the darkness. She was huddled on the floor, bracing herself between the passenger seat and the dashboard.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Stay there for now.” In the rearview mirror he saw headlights in the distance behind them. He fumbled in the pocket of his tux for his phone and tossed it onto Laurel’s seat. “Can you call 911?”

A moment later, the dim light illuminated her face as she frowned over the miniature keypad.

“Give it to me when it rings,” Dan said.

Seconds later, she thrust it into his outstretched hand. “This is Patrol Officer Dan Ryan. I’m off duty, and I was just ambushed and shot at while attempting to visit a friend on Peachtree Lane.” He gave the dispatcher the details of the attack while driving steadily toward town. His intentions formed in his mind as he spoke. “I’m heading south, and I’ll come to the police station soon. I don’t think I’m being followed, but I need to hang up so I can concentrate on my driving.”

Laurel stayed curled on the floor, and he handed her the phone.

“Call Judy. Tell her not to go home. I’ll call her again once I know you’re safe.”

Laurel’s voice trembled as she assured Judy that they were all right and the police were on the way to Judy’s house. A few minutes later, Dan slowed for a turn.

“You can get up now. I’m sorry you had to go through this.”

She pulled herself onto the seat and looked around. “We’re headed for the police station?”

“I need to go in and make a statement.”

“You didn’t tell them I was with you.”

Dan gritted his teeth, hoping he wasn’t making the wrong decision. “We’ll make a short stop first.” He glanced over at her. The killers were desperate enough to attack Laurel in her home. He needed to take her to a place where they couldn’t find her.
Lord, give me wisdom.

Dan banged on the door, trying to think of a better solution as he waited. Laurel stood shivering next to him, keeping her face averted from the street.

At last the door swung open, and Terry Wyman stood before them with a sleepy, baffled expression. He was barefoot, wearing cutoffs and a T-shirt.

“Dan. What’s up?”

“I’m sorry, Terry. I know it’s late, but we need your help.”

Terry blinked. “Sure.”

“Can Laurel stay here tonight?”

He was wide-awake now, squinting at Laurel. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes. Can we come in, please? I’ll explain.”

“Sure. I’ll tell Donna.”

As they entered the living room, Donna joined them, wearing her housecoat and slippers. She smiled uncertainly at Dan. “Hi. Nice threads.”

Dan smiled back. He’d forgotten about his tuxedo. When he looked down, he noticed a tear in the left sleeve and wondered if it was ruined. A trickle of blood smeared across the back of his hand and stained the cuff of his white shirt. “Thanks.”

“Laurel needs a bed for the night,” Terry said.

Donna’s eyebrows shot up. “I guess we can arrange that.”

“I’m really sorry.” Dan hesitated.
What am I asking of my friends?

“Got luggage?” Terry asked.

Laurel shook her head and looked at Dan. “This is probably not a good idea.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” Dan said. “It’s here or the station.”

“Let’s put the coffeepot on and talk,” Donna suggested.

“I don’t have time,” Dan told her. “We’ll give you the short version, and if you don’t want to be in the middle of it, I won’t blame you. But I need to make a phone call first.”

“Come on, Laurel.” Donna reached toward her. “Help me out in the kitchen.”

Dan took out his phone. “Shut the curtains.”

Donna stared at him, then nodded.

“Are you calling Judy again?” Laurel asked.

“Yeah. I’m going to suggest she stay with Marcia tonight, but the police will want to talk to her.”

He dreaded telling Judy what he’d done to her garage door. She made light of it, showing much more concern for him and Laurel than for her house. Dan insisted she not stay there until the garage was secured.