by Geri Foster
Lucas remembered him as being the person in charge for the FBI’s case. For no real reason at all, he never did like him. Not his arrogance, his self-confidence or his conviction Jim Snyder was guilty.
“It might surprise you to learn Spears never passed that note along.”
“I know. I asked Longley later if he got it and he said no, but it wouldn’t matter anyway. She wasn’t that important to the case.”
“Do you remember Mike Coons?”
Townson’s brushy brows drew tight. “Not that well. Seems he showed up here for a couple of years then moved closer to Denton.”
“I saw him and Spears today. They looked pretty chummy.”
“There is no law against that.”
“It is if Coons’ vehicle was involved in the hit and run that put Kendall Cochran in the hospital.”
He shot to his feet, “She okay?”
“Yes, but no thanks to what happened out on Stark Road. An SUV, registered to Coons, tried to run her off the road.”
Townson shook his head. “I can hardly believe that.” Their squinted gazes meet. “It’s been eight years, Lucas. If there was anything out there it would’ve surfaced by now.”
“Not if someone was going to great lengths to keep it hidden. What about John Tully? You have any dealings with him?”
He scratched his chin. “Heard him and some gal lived between here and Denton. It’s pretty easy to see he’s into something. Always dirty, bad-tempered, and one step ahead of the law.”
“But not in my district.”
Townson held out his arms, “Lucas, do you seriously think Spears and Coons were in on the bank losing all that money?”
“I’m not sure what to believe at this point.”
“But Burke and Spears—”
“Probably lied.”
* * *
Rachel and Kendall pulled up outside Nancy Wigan’s house and honked. Rachel had already called and explained to her why they needed her to accompany them to Denton. She was thrilled, not only at the opportunity, but for being asked in the first place.
The older woman dashed out the door like they were headed for a concert instead of an attorney’s office. She jumped in the back seat and buckled her seatbelt, her face flushed with excitement. “I can’t believe we’re doing this. The FBI will be so mad if they find out.”
“Let’s make sure they don’t,” Kendall said without turning around. “Besides, we haven’t learned anything yet.”
“Well, I knew Jim was innocent all along and nobody could change my mind.”
Rachel wanted to ask why she hadn’t insisted on testifying to that fact but decided to let it go. She doubted it would’ve changed anything. She highly suspected that Spears was the one on the inside setting up the framework. Then, he just sat back and let suspicion and gossip do the rest.
Before long they turned into a busy, large, striped parking lot in front of a three-story building and were lucky enough to find a space near the entrance. She and Kendall both wore light jackets, but she wished she had on a heavier coat as the temperature dropped. Beaming like a school girl, Nancy had bundled up like she lived in Alaska in the middle of a blizzard. She liked the woman, and her enthusiasm was contagious. Getting involved in this situation might be the most exciting thing the ex-bank clerk had ever done.
The same could be said for her.
Legal pad in hand, they found Mr. Pete Webster’s office and pushed inside. Only Marcus’ influence managed to get them an appointment right away, and she really appreciated his help. They didn’t have a lot of time as Christmas drew closer.
In the elaborate suite, a young, attractive brunette dressed in professional attire greeted them with a pleasant smile. “May I help you?”
“Yes,” she said. “I,” she started, then glanced over her shoulder at the other two and corrected, “I mean we have an appointment with Mr. Webster.”
The receptionist waved them toward the waiting area, “Have a seat. He’ll be right with you.”
They sat less than ten minutes before another, older, more mature woman, clearly in charge, came out the door and waved them forward.
“That’s us,” Kendall said. She glanced over at Nancy. “Did you understand Lucas’ scribbling?”
“I managed to figure out a few things he wrote down.”
“Does it prove anything?” she asked. “Is it proof my dad is innocent?”
Nancy lowered her head. “I’m sorry, Rachel, but it’s going to take someone better at numbers than I am to figure this all out.”
They entered the enormous workplace of Pete Webster, books covering every wall and a large ornate desk sitting in the middle of the room, where the lawyer, decked out in a fancy three-piece suit, held court. Four large windows looked out over the landscape and a soft red rug covered the floor. The entire space reeked of money and influence.
Looking round, she realized how fortunate they were to even get to talk to the guy. He had to be one of the busiest and richest attorneys alive. She wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d blown them off, instead of being kind enough to meet with them.
Mr. Webster came to his feet, buttoned his jacket and waved for them to take the chairs in front of his desk. Tall, lean and fit, he moved with a grace only an athletic man could pull off. His hair was neatly trimmed, his face a mask of polite curiosity and his demeanor professional. In a way, he sucked up all the oxygen in room, leaving her nervously squirming in her seat.
Once they were seated, he took the chair behind his desk then leaned forward. “How may I help you ladies?”
Before speaking, she licked her lips and swallowed hard. Maybe it was her surroundings or her uncertainty but, suddenly, she felt out of place and sorry to be here.
They made quick work of the introductions, then, she got right down to business. “I wanted to speak to you briefly about my dad’s case. Jim Snyder?”
Nancy slyly shoved the yellow legal pad toward him, then, quickly leaned back in her chair. In her peripheral vision, she noticed poor Nancy’s hand trembled the whole time.
He didn’t touch the notes, he simply glanced at them, then back to her. “What’s this?”
“Sheriff Lucas Quinn from Rainwater went to the FBI in Dallas to check out the evidence.” She nodded. “Those are his notes.”
Finally, after staring at them for what seemed an eternity, Mr. Webster cleared his throat and picked up the tablet. “I know Lucas, and I’m familiar with the Snyder case.”
“Then you’ll help us?” Kendall blurted out as she scooted her chair closer. When he placed his palms down on the desk and glared, she immediately shrunk back and lowered her head. “Sorry.”
“I said I’m familiar with the case, and because Marcus is an up-and-coming young attorney, I agreed to see you.” He shoved his finger at her. “I can’t and won’t get overly involved in this,” he warned, slipping on a pair of readers.
Nerves had her bouncing her foot and barely able to stay seated. “I understand completely. I just wanted a second opinion. I simply don’t believe my dad did this.”
“Of course, you don’t. The family never does,” he said with a plastic smile, his eyes scanning over Lucas’ notes.
She didn’t like him. Not. One. Bit.
This was a complete and utter waste of time. Mr. Webster had no intention of helping them. Instead, he sat behind his god-awful desk with a condescending smirk that had her teeth grinding. She wondered why they had bothered. From the looks of everything, this man did nothing free and rarely handed out favors.
She reached over and snatched the legal pad of his paws and clutched it to her chest. “Thank you, Mr. Webster,” she said tightly. “We won’t take any more of your time.” With that, she jumped to her feet and started toward the door. Hopefully Kendall and Nancy would follow.
“Wait.”
She stopped short, huffed out a breath, and turned to see Mr. Webster had his hand stretched out to her. Wait for what?
“Obviously we
are stretching the bounds of your generosity by being here. Let’s save all of us the time, and we’ll bid you a good day.”
“No,” he said sharply. “I really want to help you. Now let me see Lucas’ notes. I can’t help if you don’t give me anything to go on.”
Was he serious? Did he really intend to help them, or was this just a cruel game he played? “Mr. Webster, my dad has been languishing in prison for eight long years for a crime he did not commit. I want to prove his innocence not only because I believe it, but Nancy here was the bank teller during all this and she says there is also reasonable doubt.”
He wiggled his outstretched fingers. “Give it to me, let me see what you have.”
She reluctantly drew closer to his desk and put the pad down, shoving it toward him. He snatched it up and slowly went down each page, his index finger leading the way. She remained silent, afraid a single word might possibly break his concentration. Like it or not, she needed this man.
After several minutes, he put the pad on his desk and looked at them. “I quite honestly never agreed with the verdict handed down in the Snyder trial. But I kept my mouth shut, because it wasn’t my case. I will say that I think Stan did a highly questionable job of representation. Again, not my business.”
“Did you think of sharing your opinion with anyone?” she asked. “It might have made a difference.”
Mr. Webster shook his head and chuckled. “My dear, you are quite naïve. You have no idea how the law works or how a negative statement toward someone else’s case can get you disbarred.”
He was right. She didn’t know that. She had assumed that all lawyers were opinionated, discussed cases openly, and debated long after the trial ended. “Do you think my dad did it?”
He was quiet for a moment as if contemplating his answer. Wanting to make sure it was the exact words that would convey his message. “The FBI is very good at white-collar crime. They have been for a long time and their accounting attorneys tend to be excellent. I’ve gone up against several of them myself. However, I think there was a rush to justice here. The bank President, the Sheriff and the FBI felt sure they had their man, and they simply had to lay out their evidence for the jury to convict.”
“Nancy says the accounts were questionable. There wasn’t that much money in that account.”
His gaze moved to Nancy, and her eyes widened. “You were never called to the stand, correct?”
Mute and afraid to answer, she shook her head and dropped her gaze to her folded hands in her lap.
“Why not?” Webster asked. “You were in the bank every day working side-by-side with Mr. Snyder. I can’t understand why they wouldn’t want your insight into what went on during your daily activities. You work with a man, you get to know him.”
Her knuckles turned white as she lifted her gaze to the man across the desk. “I don’t think anybody wanted me to testify. Mr. Burke certainly didn’t. Mr. Spears said they didn’t want to put me through the stress.”
“And Mr. Spears is the Vice President of the bank?”
“Yes, yes he is. But even the FBI didn’t seem all that interested in what a clerk would have to say. It was as if I wasn’t that important. Wasn’t smart enough to figure it out. They just took my statement and read it in court.”
His gaze slid to Rachel. “That denied your dad’s attorney the right to cross-examine. Very clever on the FBI’s part.”
“Also,” Nancy said, “I didn’t think Mr. Snyder had done it and I made that clear. Before the trial started I did a bit of investigating on the accounts and I had a lot of questions no one wanted to answer.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Not everything they were saying was true. I jotted down my notes and handed them to the Sheriff to make sure the FBI got them. But I don’t think he ever gave it to them. Rachel said it wasn’t in the evidence locker.”
“Well, a handwritten note doesn’t necessarily have to be in an evidence locker. It should be, but they didn’t use it in the trial. They probably didn’t consider it pertinent information.”
“But it was,” Nancy said with a lot more vigor then Rachel thought her capable of. “You can’t accuse a man of stealing that much money if it wasn’t there to begin with.”
“That’s very true. And I can’t imagine why someone didn’t want to at least look into the matter. I see here in Lucas’ notes that so much of this case hinged on what the bank President said happened, and what the FBI claimed to have found. But, as I go over everything, I don’t see any evidence of where the money was taken, how it was removed from the bank, and exactly how Mr. Snyder managed all this right under their noses.”
Rachel cleared her throat. “There was talk of an off-shore account my father created, but I never found it.”
Mr. Webster gave her a crooked smile. “My dear, in all cases like this there are accusations of off-shore accounts. It rarely proves to be true.”
Her hopes soared. Could there be help on the horizon? Was there even the remotest chance that this man might find something and force the case to be reopened? It would be the answer to a prayer that she had been waiting for.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Webster. I really appreciate your help.”
She reached for the notepad but he picked it up first, shook it slightly, then said, “Let me hang on to this for a day or so. Then I’ll get back to you.”
Smiling from ear to ear, she stood; Kendall and Nancy following suit. Stretching out her hand, she thanked him again. “Thank you very much, Mr. Webster, for your time.”
“Don’t get your hopes up too high,” he warned. “And leave my secretary a number where I can reach you. Have a nice day, ladies.”
After leaving the building, Kendall slumped against the brick outer wall and let out a deep sigh. “Oh my God, that was so intense.”
She turned around and looked at her. “Why do you say that? I think he might help us.”
Kendall turned her sharp gaze on her. “I thought you would be jumping up and down with joy. That Webster guy might get your dad out of prison. Aren’t you excited?” She put her hand against her chest. “My heart is pounding a hundred beats a minute.”
She held up her hand. “We are a long way from getting my dad out of prison. This is simply the first positive reaction we’ve had. And Mr. Webster may very well come up empty handed. So, cool your jets.”
Kendall balled her hands up and jammed them on her waist. “Well I’m going to stay positive. And I think Mr. Webster is serious about looking into the matter. Once they find something, then they’ll have no choice but to open the case.”
“You don’t know that. And I get the feeling we have a long way to go before this is all over.”
Nancy slipped on her mittens. “I like him. He’s so handsome.”
She and Kendall stared at the ex-bank teller with disbelief. Of all the words Rachel might use to describe Mr. Webster, handsome wasn’t one of them. Although, he wasn’t bad looking, she supposed. Now, how did she break the news to Nancy that the high-priced lawyer was way out of her reach?
Out of everyone’s reach, romantically or financially?
Chapter 20
Lucas had just slumped into the chair behind his desk when Rachel walked in. He stood and motioned for her to join him. After a quick look around, she headed in his direction.
He loved the way his whole body stood up and paid attention whenever he saw her. It was magical how she rubbed against his heart like no one else had ever been able to. With her beautiful blonde hair and striking blue eyes, she damn near stole his breath away. How could he have ever let her get away?
She entered his office and he motioned for her to take a seat. “Where are your sidekicks?”
She sat, placed her purse beside the chair and said, “I dropped Nancy off at her place, and Kendall was exhausted. I took her home.”
“What did Webster have to say?” he asked, his eyes unable to stop staring at her mouth.
“Well, he didn’t kick us out, but he made no promises either
. He did seem interested. Between me and you, I got the feeling he wasn’t impressed with my dad’s representation.”
He leaned back in his chair. “I wasn’t either. As a matter of fact, I don’t think anybody was, including your dad.”
“Also, he didn’t seem to like the idea that Nancy didn’t get to testify. Said that kept dad’s lawyer from getting to cross-examine her.”
“The reason for that was Burke and Spears. They never let up on the notion that Nancy was nothing more than a clerk who cashed checks and gave out change.”
“That’s not true,” she argued. “She claims her job was a lot more than that. According to her, Spears oversaw accounts, my dad did all the cash flow and she basically did everything else.”
“What would that include?”
“She did all the secretarial duties, kept accounts straight, made sure all deposits balanced, helped people open accounts and apply for loans. She says the account my dad was accused of stealing from didn’t have that much money in it at the time, but there was money going in and out of the account all the time.”
“Then how did the FBI prove otherwise?”
“You forget, I wasn’t in the courtroom to hear anything being said.”
“Well, they showed an account with two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in it one day and gone the next.”
“I wonder how long that money had been there. Did they give the history of the account?”
“Not that I can remember.” He tried to recount the trial and all that had been said. “There was so much information thrown at the jury. I don’t understand how they kept it straight.”
“What did Sheriff Townson say when you visited him today?”
“He admitted to not passing on Nancy’s information to the FBI but, like a puppet, he claims she didn’t know anything because she was a clerk.”
“Who did he tell? Burke or Spears?”
“Spears.”
“That would explain a lot if he had anything to do with the money being taken.”