скачать книгу бесплатно
Chandler looked at Glory questioningly. She just shrugged and looked away. “I think it was only a few weeks,” he finally said.
Lisa couldn’t help but wonder if Glory’s indifference was real or an act. Did this woman know that from now on, every statement she made and every gesture she used would be noted by anyone and everyone who happened by accident or by design to be in her vicinity?
“Is that what you remember, Glory?” she asked her point-blank.
Glory looked surprised that Lisa was addressing her again. “Yes, I suppose that’s about right.”
“And is that when your…relationship with him began?”
“Yes,” she said, finally answering without hesitation and looking Lisa straight in the eye once more.
It appeared to Lisa that Glory enjoyed causing uneasiness in those around her. Was this a game to her? Or was it that her social standing in the community led her to believe that she was above common decency and good manners? And what about Chandler? He didn’t flinch, bat an eye or even seem to take notice. Didn’t any of this bother him at all?
But if they truly believed they were bulletproof, why on earth had they run to an attorney so soon?
Lisa pondered that question for a moment, then asked, “Was anyone in your household staff aware of the affair?”
“Not that I know of,” Glory answered. “I always gave them the night off when I planned on seeing him.”
“Where were you last night, Chandler?”
“I was in Detroit.”
Lisa wrote, Check Chandler’s alibi. “When did you leave?”
“Yesterday morning. It was a short trip. Just one day.”
“What hotel did you stay at?”
Glory huffed as if to tell Lisa that this was all a waste of time. Lisa ignored her.
“The Radisson, downtown.”
“And you returned just this morning?”
“That’s correct. I was on the six-fifteen flight.”
All of that would be easy enough to check. With security measures being what they were these days, Chandler would not have been able to board an aircraft without first showing identification. Of course, with the weird relationship he and Glory obviously had, Lisa couldn’t quite believe that he had gone off to Detroit, only to return sometime in the night to kill Mateo, then fly back and return in the morning as if nothing had happened. However, there usually was very little logic to murder, and Lisa had learned years ago that anything was possible.
She turned her attention back to Glory. “So, you were alone in the house with Mateo last night?”
“I was until whoever it was came along and killed him.”
“Can you tell me what you remember about the night?”
“Do you want all the gory details?”
“Just the ones about letting the staff off and then everything surrounding the time Mateo was killed.”
Glory looked almost disappointed. “Very well. I guess it was around sixish when I told everyone, including Maria, to leave.”
“Why do say, ‘including Maria?’”
“Maria is our only full-time house staff,” Chandler explained. “She oversees the daily routines of running an efficient household, which includes managing the part-time help…maids and such…we employ. She’s quite adept at it all. And when I’m out of town, she makes sure everything is taken care of for Glory.”
“Does she live on the property?”
“She stays occasionally when her duties cause her to work late. Other times, she goes home.”
“Where is home?”
“You’ll have to get that from her.”
Lisa reverted back to her original line of questioning. “Did everyone leave right away, Glory?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“What time did Mateo get there?”
“I guess about an hour later.”
“Without too much detail, can you tell me about the rest of the evening?”
“After Mateo arrived, we got a bottle of wine and went out to the spa. He liked water sports,” she said with a salacious little grin. Tossing her head, making her fabulous hair bounce a bit, she added, “Then, we went up to my room and spent the rest of the night there.”
“What time did he leave?”
Glory shrugged, which Lisa noticed that she did quite beautifully. Watching this woman was more entertaining than watching a movie, she thought with a slight frown. Truth was, she would like to really know Glory Witherington, through and through. Did Glory ever let anyone get that close?
“I couldn’t say,” Glory said. “I took a pill and went to sleep. I have a hard time sleeping when Chandler is out of town so I always take something that will knock me out.”
“Was Mateo still there when you did this?”
“Yes, I suppose he was.”
“So, you were asleep before he even left?”
“That’s how I remember it, yes.”
“And you heard nothing?”
“Honey, a bomb could go off in that house and I wouldn’t hear it after I’ve taken one of my pills.”
“This could present a problem if the police decide to go after you, Glory.”
“I believe that’s why we’re hiring you, dear, to make sure they don’t.”
Lisa’s intense interest in Glory’s entertainment value came to an abrupt end. In fact, she could stand this woman’s condescending attitude no longer and put pure ice in her voice to respond to such patronization.
“I don’t think you quite understand, dear, but I don’t have any control over what the police decide to do. My job is to defend you, should it come to that. And from what you’ve given me so far, I wouldn’t be able to do that very well.”
Glory appeared to be on the verge of another huff when Chandler intervened. “I think what Glory meant,” he said, patting her hand as if to tell her to cool it, “was that we would like you to do whatever is necessary to prevent that from happening. Use your connections, if you have any, to find out what their intentions are and if they have any suspects. We know Glory didn’t murder Mateo, but then I guess that leaves the question of who did. Why don’t you start there?”
Chandler’s last sentence was more of a directive than a suggestion and Lisa could feel the hair on the back of her neck bristling. Where did these people get off coming in here and ordering her around as if she were simply the hired help? She wasn’t on their personal payroll, and she certainly had other things to do besides catering to them. She would, of course, do absolutely everything in her power to give the Witheringtons the best possible legal advice and, should it come to it, defense. That was her job. But she would not be ordered around and told how to do her job by anyone!
“Mr. Witherington,” she began. “I assure you I will do everything I can for you and Glory—”
“That’s all we’re asking,” Chandler said, interrupting her. He then rose from his seat, bringing Glory up with him. “If that’s all, then we’ll be going. Be sure to keep us informed.” And before Lisa could utter another word, the pair was out the door.
What the hell just happened here? Lisa wondered, dazed by the past few minutes.
Lisa’s head was still spinning as she rode the elevator back down to the sixteenth floor. She hoped that the police had found some evidence of an intruder and that Glory would be ruled out as a suspect. Otherwise, she wasn’t entirely sure what she was going to do to prevent the woman from being arrested. Perhaps something in Mateo’s background would help find his real killer. Of course, finding out everything she could on Glory and Chandler might help her better understand this strange couple, as well. A stop at Larry’s office was definitely in order.
“Hey, good morning,” Larry said with a smile as she entered the research department. He was seated at a computer desk, one of several in the department, and he did that thing that men do to show their respect for a lady. He lifted himself about a foot off the chair, lingered a second and then sat again.
Lisa, still focused on the Witheringtons, barely noticed that he’d moved and only offered a wan smile in recognition of his greeting. “I’ve just spent time with my newest clients, and I don’t mind admitting that I’m confused and unnerved. Larry, I need anything and everything you can dig up on Chandler and Glory Witherington.”
“I heard their name on the radio this morning while driving to work. Something about a corpse in their front yard? Imagine waking up to that.”
Lisa was in no mood for humor. Ignoring Larry’s comments, she plopped into the nearest chair and moaned, “It’s already in the news?”
“The Witherington name is always news. Anyone with money is news. What are Chandler and Glory like in person?”
“You know I can’t discuss clients. But I don’t think I would be too far out of line by mentioning raw nerve endings and the threat of a massive headache lurking on the fringes of consciousness.”
“All happening to an unknown person, of course.”
“Whatever you say. Larry, the dead guy is Mateo Ruiz. From what I’ve gathered so far, he was an odd-jobs yard boy. Look him up, too, would you?”
Larry wrote the three names on a pad and murmured, “The multimillionaires and the yard boy. Makes for some interesting speculation, don’t you think?”
Lisa got to her feet. “I’m looking for facts, not speculation. Give me a buzz when you have anything, all right?”
“Perfectly all right, but don’t try to convince me that a good lawyer—and you are the best—doesn’t do reams of speculation when putting a case together.”
“Larry, you’re too much for me today. Talk to you later.”
Lisa was back in her own office for only a few minutes when she got a call from Grant Gowan. It was difficult for her to even take the call, let alone not sound as though she had just been run through a hay bailer, but she did her best.
“Hello, Grant.”
“Lisa, how’re tricks?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
He chuckled lightly in her ear. “I can take a hint. You’re swamped, right? Okay, we’ll make this short. The party starts at seven. Are you planning to go home first, or what?”
“No, there isn’t time for that. How about we meet in The Pub and go from there? I should be able to get away by six.”
“That sounds fine. See you then.”
As Lisa hung up, she hoped that the conservative three-piece taupe suit she was wearing would work for tonight’s party.
Do you really care?
“Not a whit,” she mumbled and got to work.
The rest of Lisa’s day was much calmer than the beginning. She filled it with paperwork from her previous case and a little research of her own on her new one. Lunch with Pamela took up an hour and a half and then several phone calls later, she was finally out the door to meet Grant.
Over lunch, she and Pamela had discussed the evening ahead. She had tried in several ways to argue that it really wasn’t a date, but in the end had to admit that it probably was, although Pamela should not think of it as a romantic date. It was funny, but until Grant Gowan had actually asked her to attend Faith’s birthday party with him, she had never considered him as anything but another lawyer.
Grant was attractive and Lisa had heard his name mentioned more than once during a gab session between the single women in the office. He was, after all, an eligible bachelor, a successful attorney and, supposedly, from a good home and background. All the makings of Mr. Right. But to her, he’d always just been a colleague of sorts and as she rode the elevator down to the first floor, she couldn’t help but wonder why she’d never been drawn to him, as so many of the other women in the building were.
Oh, well, maybe by the end of the evening I’ll have my answer.
True to his word, Grant was waiting in a booth near the front doors of The Pub when Lisa entered. He was alone and drinking a beer. “Would you like something before we go?” he offered. “We have a few minutes, unless you want to be the first to arrive at the party.”
“A beer would be good,” she said, sliding into the booth opposite him. What was it about arriving somewhere first that had such a stigma attached to it? Someone always had to be first, so why didn’t anyone want it to be him?
Lisa watched Grant go to the bar for her drink. He wasn’t particularly tall but he was tall enough for her, and his body was lean and fit. Of course, it could just be the suits he wore that made him look so good. Nothing off the rack for Grant Gowan, Lisa was sure of that. His clothes looked as if they were made for him.
“Here you go,” he said, placing a cold glass of beer in front of her.
“Thank you.”
“Thank you for coming tonight,” he replied, resuming his seat. “I wasn’t sure you would.”
“Why is that?”
Grant shrugged. “I don’t know. You always seem a little distant, I guess. I was beginning to wonder if I smelled bad or something.” He made his last statement with a chuckle.
“Why? Because I don’t throw myself at you like some of the other women in the building do?”
A boyish grin crossed Grant’s lips. “Well….”
He understood exactly what she was talking about, Lisa knew. He was a hot commodity in the singles scene, a role he was obviously enjoying. And it was a role that was putting Lisa off. Perhaps she already had her answer about why she wasn’t all that attracted to him.
“Maybe we’d better get going,” she said as she stood up and straightened her skirt.
Grant stood as well. “I think we still have a little time. We don’t need to rush.”
“I really don’t want to be out too late, Grant. I have a new case and I’d like to get into the office early tomorrow.” Besides being the truth, it was as good a reason as any to cut the evening short, she figured.
“Oh, all right, then.”
They left The Pub and went around the corner of the building to the parking garage. “I’m on the second floor,” Grant told her as he steered her to the elevators.
When they reached his floor and then his car, Grant opened her door first and then went around to the driver’s side and slid in behind the wheel. His car was as elegant and expensive as his suits. Lisa took note of the plush leather she was now seated on, as well as the dark mahogany trim. She also noticed the hood ornament—a leaping jaguar. Grant Gowan reeked of money, old and new.
