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Clandestine Cover-Up. Pamela Tracy
Читать онлайн.Название Clandestine Cover-Up
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Автор произведения Pamela Tracy
Жанр Современная зарубежная литература
Издательство HarperCollins
“Seems pretty cut-and-dried.”
“Yeah, but the letter of the law has to do with intent. He rammed the mother’s car but claimed his intent wasn’t to harm. Plus, the mother was driving on a suspended license. She’d lost hers thanks to a DUI.”
“Was she intoxicated when the accident happened?”
“No, but it was still something we would bring up in court, trying to get him either acquitted or get him a lesser sentence.”
“So, what happened with that case? Did he start stalking you right away?”
“Yes, he started stalking me right away. First it was a thank-you card and an offer to dinner. Then, it was flowers every day to the office. We released him as a client. I got a restraining order. He changed tactics quickly. The notes stopped, the flowers stopped. He painted the words You belong to me on my door,” Tamara said next.
“Red paint like here?”
“Red must be the color criminals like best.”
“No wonder you were standing so still that first day. I thought at first I’d have to pick you up, like a piece of furniture, and carry you somewhere.”
“He started calling every night at midnight and he’d play music. He had a favorite song. To this day I can’t get the first verse out of my head. It’s all about love and waiting until no one else is around.”
“Hard to believe,” Vince said.
“Massey broke into my condo the night Terry and I broke up. I was upset, and for the first time in months, I let my guard down. I was too busy crying to look over my shoulder.”
“He followed you inside?”
“To this day, I don’t know. I’d been home for maybe an hour. I went to bed, but I wasn’t asleep. Then, he was there. When I hit him with the flashlight I’d been keeping by the bed, it sliced into his forehead. The blood gushed so quickly I had time to push him away from me and run from the apartment to my next-door neighbors. He left blood on my bedsheets. It was enough to seal his fate.”
“Some people belong in jail. Which is where Massey is,” Vince reminded her. “Somebody else is pulling our chains now. My gut feeling is that it’s this building you need to stay away from. There has to be some reason why Lydia left it to rot. You should get rid of it and find somewhere else for your office.”
She blinked, and he could see that the idea that the church was the catalyst hadn’t occurred to her. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t give up that easy, which meant he needed to stick around a while. Since she wasn’t going to agree with his suggestion, he made another. “So, I take it instead of letting it rot, you’re going to hire me on to help renovate.”
“Why make some other handyman a target when you already fit the bill?”
He liked that, even with all that was going on, she still had a sharp tongue. Working with her and for her would never be dull.
FIVE
On Monday, after several hours of cleaning trash away from the church’s main room, Tamara heard a noise. It sounded like a creak that accompanied a footfall. She silently straightened and slowly turned, wishing her back wasn’t to the front door. Her purse, with the mace inside, was in the attic on top of the desk.
Did she have time to run and get it?
“Hello,” a woman called loudly. Then seeing that Tamara was right in the main room, she grinned. “Oops, didn’t see you there.”
The woman at the door definitely didn’t look dangerous. She looked friendly and welcoming.
“I’m Angela. I own the bookstore next door. I was wondering if you’d like to go across the street for lunch. Since we’re about to be neighbors and fellow businesswomen, I thought we should maybe get to know each other.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m covered with dust and look a mess.”
“Oh, that doesn’t make any difference. Tali and Sharon have been watching you all morning. They want to meet you, too. This is a great street. Most of the merchants work together. Sharon has my business cards on a table in her restaurant lobby. I send people over there to eat. Never thought this old church would ever stop being vacant. So, you’re a lawyer? You don’t look like a lawyer.”
Tamara had to laugh. Usually, people didn’t have any trouble believing her vocation. “I’m a lawyer. Right now I just happen to be a lawyer masquerading as a handyman. I’m opening up my own practice.”
“Well, I admire any lawyer willing to get her hands dirty. Come have lunch. My treat.”
“But I’m covered with—”
“It’s after one, the lunch rush is over. There are probably only ten people at the restaurant.”
There were twelve, but that was counting Tali and Sharon Rasmussen, who joined Angela and Tamara the moment they were seated.
Tali was a big, black man who didn’t fit the persona of who Tamara imagined would be the owner of an Italian restaurant. He towered over his wife, who was short, curly haired and animated.
Actually, they both were animated and—Angela was right—they were both eager to meet her.
“We’re glad somebody’s doing something with the property,” Tali said. “It’s been neglected for so long.”
“Not neglected,” his wife said. “Lonely. Vincent keeps up the grounds and such, so it hasn’t hurt property values, but talk about a waste of space.”
“So what are you planning to do with the building?” Tali asked.
She started to answer, but before she could, he continued, “We’ve seen you with Vincent. Are you planning to hire him? We can recommend him. He works for Konrad Construction during the week. They remodeled our house.”
“And Vincent hired on afterward and put up a shed for us,” Sharon added.
Tali pooh-poohed, “That took all of an hour. I could have done it had you given me time.”
“I gave you time,” Sharon disagreed. “We had the building materials for over a year.”
“Tell them what you’re going to do with the old church,” Angela interrupted.
“Open my own law practice,” Tamara said easily.
Tali leaned back. “Ah…then, we heard right.”
Before he could say anything else, the waitress came, orders were given, and Sharon took over the conversation before her husband could.
“We were saying that a lawyer is just what Vince needs.”
“Sharon,” Angela warned.
“What? You think Tamara isn’t going to find out about—”
“I already know Vince,” Tamara said. “He’s best friends with my sister’s husband.”
Angela nodded. “That’s why you looked familiar. I can’t believe I didn’t see the likeness earlier. I knew I’d seen the red hair before. You’re Lisa’s sister.”
“Big sister.” Tamara turned to Sharon and asked, “What about Vince needing a lawyer?”
“Not Vince,” Sharon said. “His family. Mainly Vince’s brothers and definitely his uncle Drew.”