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Authors: Susan Page Davis

BOOK: Just Cause
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“I can’t believe they would do that,” Laurel said. “How could they? It would ruin their reputation.”

Dan shrugged. “I’m just telling you what the report says.”

Laurel didn’t like where her thoughts were heading. “But substandard materials? I mean, they’re not stupid. People could be killed.”

Dan reached for the briefcase. “Let me take that spec list and compare it with the inspector’s report.”

“Do you think maybe Bob knew they’d substituted the materials and made a fuss about it?”

“As a motive, you mean?”

She nodded. “The bridge wasn’t actually finished until the fall after Bob’s death. We have the report of the engineer who took over the project, don’t we?”

“Yes, they completed it five months later, just under the bid.”

“So, maybe they underbid their competitors, then realized they couldn’t do it for that amount.”

Dan frowned. “If they decided to cut corners instead of taking the loss, and Bob got wind of it—”

“Of course,” said Laurel. “He was the project manager. He was right out there when the materials were delivered. If something shady was going on in that project, he’d have known.”

“When did Hatcher & Brody start laying in the materials?”

“Over the winter. Bob made several trips to Maple Grove to keep an eye on things. I went down a couple of times and stayed through the week at the motel with him.” She paused. “But if someone was substituting low-grade materials, they could have brought in the cheaper stuff anytime Bob wasn’t there.”

“Yes,” Dan reflected. “That would upset Bob when he discovered it.”

“But this is all speculation. It could have been someone else in the company, not his family.”

“When did Uncle Jack give him the car?”

She glanced at him uneasily. “January, I think.”

“Before his first trip to Maple Grove?”

“Yes. He drove it down there the first time.” She stared at Dan as she thought about that. “You’re saying the Corvette is somehow related to the bridge project. Jack wanted Bob to keep quiet about the shoddy materials, so he gave him the car in advance.”

“If he’d given it to him after Bob saw the switch, it would have been a little obvious,” Dan said. “This way, it just made him feel guilty to have to do something that would hurt his nice old Uncle Jack.”

“Bob would have reported it to Wayne,” Laurel insisted.

“And if Wayne already knew about it?”

Laurel tried to get a deep breath, but she felt as if her lungs were constricted. “Bob just wouldn’t let that happen.”

Dan laid the papers on the coffee table and slid closer. “I don’t want to upset you, but we’ve got to consider the possibility that Bob knew about it.”

She jumped to her feet. “All right, maybe he did. But if he had suspicions, he’d look for proof as to who was responsible. And if he had proof, he wouldn’t look the other way and take bribes. He’d confront that person.” She shouted the words, unable to hold back the panic that filled her.

“I think he did,” Dan said gently. “On May twenty-eighth. At your house, while you were shopping in Bangor.”

 

Laurel stared at him, then turned and walked slowly toward her bedroom. When the door closed, Dan joined Judy in the kitchen and told her of his confrontation with Laurel. “She can’t accept the idea that he knew and didn’t call the police.”

“Maybe Bob was trying to get solid proof before he reported it,” Judy said thoughtfully.

“I think he had proof,” Dan said. “That’s what those thugs were after when they attacked us. Bob had something that would implicate the killer, and they believe Laurel has it now.”

“Why didn’t it come out before, when she went to trial last winter?”

“I don’t know.” Dan sighed. “What do I do now?”

“Just wait. Give her time to absorb this. Then ask her if she’s ready for you to discuss this theory with the lawyer.”

Judy made a pot of coffee and brought him a mug in the living room. Dan sat on the couch, staring at the bouquet of daffodils Judy had placed on the coffee table that evening. It made a bright splash in the room of neutral colors, the way Laurel had splashed into his ordinary life.

Judy sat down on the arm of the sofa. “She’s been through so much, Dan.”

He nodded, his lips tight together. “I’ve tried not to think about it too much, but I know it was terrible.”

“Discovering the body in itself was traumatic,” Judy agreed. “What came after would have put most people over the edge.”

He glanced toward the closed bedroom door. “Maybe I should stop talking about it. Just leave her be. But I can’t help thinking there’s more to this.”

“Those men who shot at you were certain.”

Dan sensed her anger and squeezed her arm. “I’d say I’m sorry again, but after the first hundred times it loses its impact.”

Judy smiled ruefully. “Don’t make the same mistake again, Dan.”

“You mean, don’t park Laurel here at my house too long?”

“They found her before.”

“Yes. But I can’t leave until Friday. My superiors are being generous as it is.”

She sipped her coffee. “I can take her to a hotel the last couple of nights, if you think it would be safer.”

That was like Judy, worrying about anyone but herself. “We’ll see. Thanks.”

The bedroom door creaked open, and Laurel came out. Her face was streaked with tears and her eyes red-rimmed.

“Excuse me,” Judy murmured, and she disappeared into the kitchen with the empty mugs.

Dan stood and waited for Laurel to speak. She stopped three feet from him and met his eyes.

“If it happened that way,” she whispered, “why didn’t he tell me?”

Dan took one step and held her in his arms. He cradled her head against his shoulder, caressing her hair, thankful that she had come back to him for comfort.

“I think he wanted to protect you. If you didn’t know, no one could accuse you of spilling the beans. He was going to expose them, sweetheart. That’s why they had to stop him.”

Her hands fluttered against his chest, and she shook her head. “His parents couldn’t do that, could they? Kill their own child in cold blood?”

“Maybe not, but what about Jack Brody? Maybe he was behind all of it—the underbidding, the poor materials, everything—and Bob knew. Bribes didn’t work. Bob was going to turn him in. Does that make sense?”

“I don’t know. We have no proof Jack is the killer.”

“They have no proof it was you, either. If we can cast enough suspicion on Jack, the jury will have doubts about you.”

“Is that a successful type of defense, Dan? I want to be found innocent. I don’t just want to be not guilty because of reasonable doubt.”

He wanted that, too. He wanted the world to acknowledge her innocence. He wanted to see it in print—that Bob Hatcher was killed because he was an honest man, not because his greedy wife wanted his money and her freedom.

He ran his hands over her tense shoulders and her rigid back.

“We’re going to find out the truth, and when we do, everybody will know it. They’ll know you didn’t do it, and they’ll know Bob was a hero. He was a good man in a bad situation, and he tried to fix it. We won’t forget that he stood up to them. We won’t ever forget.”

Laurel leaned limply against him. “Danny, he’s in heaven.”

“I know, sweetheart. And I’m glad.”

“You would have liked him,” she whispered.

“I think so.”

TWELVE

D
an puttered around in the kitchen of his house Thursday evening while Judy helped Laurel with her packing. Although Laurel had few possessions, she seemed to find the task overwhelming. When he ventured to the bedroom doorway, she was looking uncertainly around the room where she had slept for the past three nights.

“Maybe I should just take all my things.”

“You’re coming back,” Judy said firmly.

Dan leaned with one arm on the door frame. “Leave the computer for sure, and anything else you don’t think you’ll need on the trip.”

Laurel sighed. “I wish I knew how many clothes to take, and what Jim will want me to wear to court.”

“Just use your best judgment,” Judy said softly.

“I’d better take my black skirt. Jim told me to go with widow’s weeds the first time around, but that wasn’t too successful. Maybe he’ll want sophisticated this time, or professional, or an ingenue look, although I’m a bit old for that. Girl next door, perhaps. Should I take this?” Laurel held out a yellow gingham jumper.

“That’s cute on you,” Judy said.

Dan said nothing, but his heart ached.

“Maybe frilly feminine is good,” Laurel choked. “But I’ll have to shop up there in that case. Oh, what am I doing? It’s not going to matter.” She burst into sobs, and Judy hurried to embrace her.

“Honey, honey, it’s okay.”

Choked up himself and sensing the two women needed some privacy, Dan went back to the kitchen and leaned on the smooth countertop. He hated how helpless he felt for not being able to alleviate Laurel’s suffering. He’d tried to handle all the details of the trip for her, and everything had come together: the leave of absence, the private investigator’s license, the reservations, the timing. He had five hundred dollars in his pocket, a gift from his father. He’d hung his uniforms away in the closet, packing only his civilian clothes.

Until now it had almost seemed he and Laurel were planning an enjoyable outing together. But the reality of her uncertain future and the stress it caused her could no longer be ignored.

Judy came in from the next room, and he tried to smile, but it slipped into a grimace.

“Is she okay?” he asked.

“She needs a good night’s sleep. Why don’t you go finish your arrangements and come back tomorrow.”

“We could leave when I get off work tomorrow if she wants to.”

“No, let Laurel sleep here and start out early Saturday. You’ll both be rested, and you’ll have a whole day ahead of you to drive. Less complicated that way.”

He nodded. “I’ve got a few things to take care of.”

“Did you pack your violin?” Judy asked.

He smiled. “Yes, but do you think that’s a good idea? I won’t have time to practice.”

“You’d better. I want us to do that Haydn piece this fall.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Judy patted his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow night. Plan to have supper with us.”

 

Dan got out of his truck at the police station on Friday. The late May morning promised warmth and clear skies. He whistled the first few notes of the Beethoven they’d played in the concert, but squinted as he turned. A man sat on a bench in the little park across the street. A civilian, peering at Dan over the top of his newspaper. Probably nothing. Even so, before joining Jessica in the duty room, he called Laurel to warn her to stay in the house and keep the drapes drawn.

He and Jessica were called to the scene of a minor automobile accident that afternoon. The driver Dan questioned was too inebriated to give coherent answers, and Dan put him in the back of the squad car.

As Dan shut the door, his cell phone trilled. He ignored it, but grew more anxious as it continued. He walked to the front of the car and checked it. Judy. He’d only given her the number after the thugs had threatened him and Laurel at her house Saturday night.

“Judy, what’s up?”

“I’m so sorry to call you at work, Dan.”

“No problem. What’s happened?”

“A man came to my office asking about Laurel. Dan, you’ve got to move her tonight. He threatened me.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, and I called security. That’s why he left.”

“Good. Make a police report.” Dan leaned back against the hood of the squad car. “What did he look like?”

“Five-ten, two hundred and twenty pounds, Caucasian, dark hair and eyes,” Judy said.

“You’re good. Call Laurel and tell her to have her things ready. I’ll pick her up as soon as I can. No, wait. Send a cab around for her.”

“To take her where?”

Dan sighed. “We need to get her to a safe location right away.”

“Marcia Smith’s house? It’s out of town.”

Jessica put her hands on her hips and glared at him. He could tell she was annoyed at the interruption.

Dan straightened and headed for the passenger door of the squad car. “Sure, if you can set it up. Make sure you’re not being tailed by anyone suspicious. I’ll pick Laurel up there, but I may not be able to get away until after five.”

He shoved his phone into his pocket and got in the car.

“Personal life interfering with the job?” Jessica murmured, eyeing him anxiously as she stowed her gear.

“Just a bit. I’m sorry.”

“If you really need to leave, I can handle this,” she said.

“It’s okay.”

She shook her head. “I told you, you should have let the P.D. protect Laurel.”

“Let’s just finish up here, okay?”

Jessica frowned. “She wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t important. What do you need?”

“Nothing. Just…can we dump this guy at the station and drive by my house?”

“I’ll book him. You take a run over there.”

“Thanks, Jess.”

“I’m going to miss you while you’re away. Send me a postcard.”

 

At four-thirty, Dan pulled his pickup into Marcia’s long gravel driveway. The llamas in the pasture crowded the fence to look at him.

Marcia met him at the door, smiling. “I like your girl, Dan.”

“Thanks.” He bent to kiss Marcia’s cheek. “Sorry to drag you into this.”

She brushed that aside and took him to the living room where Laurel waited. He was surprised to find Judy there, as well.

Laurel jumped up and hurried to him.

“All set?” Dan asked.

“Yes, if you are.”

“My things are in the truck.” He nodded at Judy. “You all right?”

“I’m fine. I hope you don’t mind my coming to see you off. I took a cab and was extremely careful that I wasn’t being followed.”

He smiled, hoping his friends hadn’t drawn Laurel’s stalkers once more. “You kept your wits and put the police on that fellow. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve got him already.” It was a bit of a stretch—he’d checked before leaving the police station, and the man who had accosted Judy was still at liberty. But that had influenced Jessica to urge him to leave early.

“We’re going to miss you and Judy something fierce,” Marcia said. “The quartet is going to go to pot this summer, with both our violinists taking extended vacations.”

Dan smiled. “You and Joe can get together and practice. You’ll be way ahead of us when we come back.”

“Well, I hope the police catch that fellow.” Marcia shook her head at the audacity of it. “Coming to your office to bother you, Judy.”

“If any strangers show up here, you call the cops immediately,” Judy warned her.

Dan picked up Laurel’s bag, and Judy went out with them to the truck. Marcia stood in the doorway watching them.

“Should we meet you somewhere when you come to Maine?” Dan asked Judy.

“No, I’m flying to Portland and renting a car. I’ll call your cell phone when I get to the lake.”

Laurel clung to Judy for a moment. “I’m sorry I was such a crybaby last night.”

“Shh, forget it. Take care of Dan. And remember, for the next few days, you’ll be the only one there to polish his armor.”

Laurel smiled and kissed her cheek, then slid into the truck.

Judy went to Dan, and he threw his arms around her in a huge hug.

“You’ve done so much. Thank you,” he said.

“She’s all yours now. I’ll pray for the best.”

 

As they drove away from Marcia’s house, Laurel felt the cloud of fear lift. She determined not to brood the whole way and focused on happier topics.

“Tell me more about your family.” She settled her purse and sweater on the seat between them. “I want to hear it all. Little League, first puppy, sibling rivalry. I expect to know everything about you by the time we reach Maine.” She touched his arm, and Dan smiled at her. “Tell me all the details. What did your first lunch box look like?”

He laughed. “Sorry, I was a hot-lunch man.”

“Oh. What was your favorite meal at the cafeteria?”

Dan pulled out onto a state highway and looked in the rearview mirror. His face tensed, and he floored the gas pedal. “Hang on.”

She looked out the rear window and saw a low blue car momentarily drop behind them, then put on speed to overtake them.

Amazing how quickly the fear returned.

He approached a crossroad swiftly, then braked and tore around the corner with the truck on two wheels.

Laurel gasped and held on to the gun rack in the back window, watching behind them. The blue car followed at a slightly more prudent speed.

“Cell phone.”

Dan’s words were clipped, and she could read the tension in his face.

“Where?”

“Shirt pocket.”

She pulled it out, then looked at him. “Who am I calling?”

“Nine-one-one.”

She gulped, dialed, and handed him the phone. He slowed down a little and took it. The blue car closed the distance between them.

“I’m on the county road, and there’s a vehicle pursuing me. Can you send an officer out here ASAP?”

The blue car came on fast.

“Danny! He’s going to hit us!”

Too late, Dan floored the gas. The impact made the pickup bounce and swerve, but Dan regained control. He threw the cell phone toward her, but Laurel was unable to catch it and it fell to the floor.

“Hold on!” he yelled.

The car crept up beside him, and Dan began to brake.

“Is he passing us?” Laurel pulled her seat belt tighter.

“She. And don’t bet on it.”

The car’s impact came on Dan’s door and the front fender, throwing the light truck toward the shoulder and triggering Dan’s side air bag. They veered off the pavement, and Dan clung to the wheel, his face set like granite as he struggled to keep control.

Laurel closed her eyes and braced herself. The truck bounced and lunged, then came to rest. Slowly she opened her eyes. They sat on the edge of a hay field, facing the road. The blue car was parked on the shoulder just beyond, and walking rapidly toward them was a slender, dark-haired woman in a red silk blouse and jeans.

 

Dan watched in amazement as Laurel unfastened her seat belt with trembling fingers and leaped from the truck, her face livid.

“I always knew you were crazy, but this beats all! You idiot!”

“Who you calling crazy?” the woman demanded. “I’m smart enough to find you, and smart enough to know who my friends are.”


Friends?
” Laurel shrieked. “Oh, pardon me. Haven’t you heard? Friends don’t assassinate friends.”

Against his better judgment, Dan stepped between them. “Ladies, ladies.”

Laurel shouted, “She almost killed us!”

The second woman turned to him. “The minute she gets a chance to run back to her rich friends, she forgets who took care of her!” She rounded on Laurel. “You owe me big-time, girl!”

“Renee Chapin, I presume?” Dan said dryly.

The angry woman looked toward him and paused in her diatribe. “That’s right, sweetie.”

Dan smiled. Renee’s volatile personality coupled with Laurel’s tightly coiled nerves had produced an explosion worth watching, but it was time to defuse the adversaries. “Was it necessary to run us off the road, Miss Chapin?”

“You coulda pulled over nice and easy.”

Dan laughed. “Beautiful.”

“Why, thank you.”

He turned away, unable to hold in his amusement. She actually batted her false eyelashes at him. She couldn’t know he was a cop. She wouldn’t try something this blatant if she knew.

“What do you want?” Laurel screamed, and Dan realized Laurel still teetered on the brink.

“Yes, Ms. Chapin,” he said, “what do you want?”

“Same thing I always wanted. Just grease my palm, honey.”

“Good grief,” Laurel said in disgust. “I told you and told you, I am not rich. My friends are not rich.”

“Oh, right. You lived in a mansion back in Maine, and you stay with friends out here who live pretty high. Doctors and such. You made me a promise, and I intend to see you keep it.”

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