flash of a smirk when Gekko glanced at the fake identification, also the look in the man’s eyes when he addressed Bill by his fake name, almost as if he were deciding whether or not to continue with the charade. But what really made the hairs stand up on the back of Bill’s neck was Gekko trying to get him behind that steel door.
Different ideas of what to do next spun rapidly through Bill’s head as he drove, but nothing that held much promise. Without much hope for success he called Thomas Roberson. When the lawyer answered, his voice was less cheery than the day before.
“I still haven’t decided if it’s in my client’s best interest to talk to you,” Roberson said flatly.
“That’s not why I’m calling,” Bill said. Distracted, he had to brake quickly to avoid running a red light. A woman walking past him in the crosswalk glared hotly at him. Bill barely noticed. “I want to suggest that you have your psychiatrist examine Gail again.”
“Why would I do that?”
“This might sound crazy.”
“Go ahead.”
“She might’ve been brainwashed.”
There was a long uncomfortable silence before Roberson asked if Bill could repeat what he had said. Bill did so.
“And why would I do something like that?” Roberson asked, somewhat incredulously.
“It’s a theory I’m looking into,” Bill admitted.
“And what would Gail have been brainwashed to do?”
Bill only paused briefly before saying, “The obvious. To murder Kent Forster.”
All cheeriness in the lawyer’s voice left then, replaced by something cold and distant. “Do you have any reason to suspect this happened?” he asked.
“Not really. Again, it’s just a theory. But it would help to know if your client went missing for several days before the shooting.”
There was more silence from the lawyer, then Roberson saying, “I know you talked to Trey Megeet’s attorney. Paul gave me a call afterwards. Are you also trying to tell me that you believe Mr. Megeet was brainwashed ?”
“I’m not sure right now what to believe,” Bill admitted. The light had changed. He rode through the intersection, and mentioned to Roberson how Hawes and Megeet both had unexplained puncture marks on them.
“Why would you think Gail’s puncture mark is what anyone would consider mysterious?” Roberson asked stiffly. “It was caused by a recent tetanus shot. And whether Gail has had any unexplained disappearances, wait one minute.”
Bill heard the receiver being put down, then papers shuffled. When the receiver was picked back up, Roberson said, “The answer is no. I have Gail’s personnel file from work, and not only did she have a perfect attendance, it’s been over a year since she took a vacation. So I’m afraid, Mr. Conway, you’re barking up the wrong tree with this so-called theory.”
“Yeah, well, it still couldn’t hurt to talk to her psychiatrist about it,” Bill said. He added jokingly. “Worst case, maybe you could use it to confuse a jury.”
“I have to be ending this call,” Roberson said, his tone chilly enough that Bill could almost feel a wave of frost coming over his cell phone. “And I doubt at this point that it would be a good idea for me to allow you to meet with my client.”
The connection went dead with Roberson disconnecting the call from his end. Bill stared at his cell phone for a long moment before tossing it onto the seat next to him, then wondering what bug had crawled up Roberson’s ass. Something wasn’t quite right there either, but that had been true with just about everything the last two days. Ever since his abduction the world had seemed to be spinning off-kilter.
Traffic was lighter than he thought it would be as he approached Post Office Square. He drove slowly past the forty-story office building where Gail Hawes had shot large holes out of Kent Forster. Now, six days later and it was as if the incident had never happened. All evidence of the murder had been scrubbed cleaned, the
Different ideas of what to do next spun rapidly through Bill’s head as he drove, but nothing that held much promise. Without much hope for success he called Thomas Roberson. When the lawyer answered, his voice was less cheery than the day before.
“I still haven’t decided if it’s in my client’s best interest to talk to you,” Roberson said flatly.
“That’s not why I’m calling,” Bill said. Distracted, he had to brake quickly to avoid running a red light. A woman walking past him in the crosswalk glared hotly at him. Bill barely noticed. “I want to suggest that you have your psychiatrist examine Gail again.”
“Why would I do that?”
“This might sound crazy.”
“Go ahead.”
“She might’ve been brainwashed.”
There was a long uncomfortable silence before Roberson asked if Bill could repeat what he had said. Bill did so.
“And why would I do something like that?” Roberson asked, somewhat incredulously.
“It’s a theory I’m looking into,” Bill admitted.
“And what would Gail have been brainwashed to do?”
Bill only paused briefly before saying, “The obvious. To murder Kent Forster.”
All cheeriness in the lawyer’s voice left then, replaced by something cold and distant. “Do you have any reason to suspect this happened?” he asked.
“Not really. Again, it’s just a theory. But it would help to know if your client went missing for several days before the shooting.”
There was more silence from the lawyer, then Roberson saying, “I know you talked to Trey Megeet’s attorney. Paul gave me a call afterwards. Are you also trying to tell me that you believe Mr. Megeet was brainwashed ?”
“I’m not sure right now what to believe,” Bill admitted. The light had changed. He rode through the intersection, and mentioned to Roberson how Hawes and Megeet both had unexplained puncture marks on them.
“Why would you think Gail’s puncture mark is what anyone would consider mysterious?” Roberson asked stiffly. “It was caused by a recent tetanus shot. And whether Gail has had any unexplained disappearances, wait one minute.”
Bill heard the receiver being put down, then papers shuffled. When the receiver was picked back up, Roberson said, “The answer is no. I have Gail’s personnel file from work, and not only did she have a perfect attendance, it’s been over a year since she took a vacation. So I’m afraid, Mr. Conway, you’re barking up the wrong tree with this so-called theory.”
“Yeah, well, it still couldn’t hurt to talk to her psychiatrist about it,” Bill said. He added jokingly. “Worst case, maybe you could use it to confuse a jury.”
“I have to be ending this call,” Roberson said, his tone chilly enough that Bill could almost feel a wave of frost coming over his cell phone. “And I doubt at this point that it would be a good idea for me to allow you to meet with my client.”
The connection went dead with Roberson disconnecting the call from his end. Bill stared at his cell phone for a long moment before tossing it onto the seat next to him, then wondering what bug had crawled up Roberson’s ass. Something wasn’t quite right there either, but that had been true with just about everything the last two days. Ever since his abduction the world had seemed to be spinning off-kilter.
Traffic was lighter than he thought it would be as he approached Post Office Square. He drove slowly past the forty-story office building where Gail Hawes had shot large holes out of Kent Forster. Now, six days later and it was as if the incident had never happened. All evidence of the murder had been scrubbed cleaned, the
Similar Books
