The Mentor

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The Mentor Page 22

by Rebecca Forster


  Lauren threw herself on her stomach and peered under the car, sighting the guard not more than 100 feet away. There was only time for a calculated risk. Scrambling back, Lauren took Henry’s arm.

  “Listen to me. Grow up. Coming here will go a long way in court. You trusted us before, trust us again. Henry...” Lauren grappled with him, but he was up in a sprinter’s stance. “Henry, no!”

  “I’m sorry about Nick,” he said and looked over the top of the car. She stayed on all fours, exhausted and afraid for them both. He hesitated; she took advantage.

  “They won’t let you get away again. I’ll go hard on you.”

  “Nothing could be harder than what I’ve got now,” he said and without looking at her again, he bolted.

  He was thin and he was quick, but not quite quick enough. The guard hollered. Lauren called out his name, whether to stop him or alert the guard to who it was, she didn’t know. In the cavernous garage she heard other things. A gun drawn. Calls to halt. Shuffling feet. Still down, Lauren let her head fall forward as she waited for the next thing to happen. But the boom didn’t sound. There was no retort of gunfire and no cry from Henry as he fell dead. There was just the sound of running, fading into the night as someone touched her. Lauren didn’t move, so the guard took her arm and pulled her up.

  “You okay?” he asked. Lauren looked at him. She nodded. “You sure? What was it? Robbery?” He looked her up and down, but her clothes were intact. He couldn’t bring himself to say the word “rape”. “Did he do anything, you know, to you?”

  “No, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Lauren shook her head and brushed off her pants. She straightened her jacket. She had a hard time looking at him. She was so tired. “Thank you. I thought you were going to shoot him.”

  “I couldn’t get a clear shot, but I got a pretty good look at him. I called it in. Guy was running like a bat out of hell, though. I don’t know if they’ll get him. Did you get a good look at him?”

  “Yes, I did. I’ll make a report.”

  “You want to do that now? I’ll call the cops to come here.”

  Lauren shook her head. “I just want to rest for a second. I work upstairs. U.S. Attorney’s office.”

  “Then I guess you know what to do. Okay. That sounds good.” The guard stepped back as he put his revolver in his holster. There were steps near the elevator. He led her to them. Lauren sat while he picked up her things. Henry had kicked her purse like a football spreading the contents all over the place. By the time he handed her purse back, she had come to a few conclusions.

  Henry Stewart was one confused young man.

  Henry Stewart did not kill Wilson Caufeld.

  That meant someone else had.

  When the guard handed over her purse, Lauren thanked him. She was in her car when he hurried up beside it.

  “Is this yours?”

  He held out a business card with something scribbled on it. Lauren took it.

  “Thank you. Yes,” she said and remembered exactly who had told her that Henry Stewart wasn’t the only one with a reason to see Wilson Caufeld dead and buried.

  15

  “I saw Henry Stewart. He says he didn’t kill Wilson. I didn’t try to stop him from running away. You were probably sleeping. Sorry.” She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her jacket and pulled out his card. She flipped it between her fingers then held it up. “I found this. It was wrong to talk to you the way I did at the funeral. I was working late.”

  Eli lifted his right shoulder and the left corner of his lips. He didn’t point out that hello would have been a nice opening, or that she was rambling, or that the last time they saw each other she considered him less than dirt.

  “I was working, too. Must be time for a break.”

  He held the door open and Lauren walked into his world. It wasn’t what she expected. There were family pictures. Comfortable furniture. The apartment was clean and small. The door shut. She looked at Eli.

  “It’s warm in here,” she said.

  He plucked at the worn robe he wore over his shirt and jeans. It had seen better days. “Metabolism. I’m always cold unless I’m running around. I’ll take your jacket so you don’t boil.”

  “No. Thanks. I won’t stay too long. I just wanted to get your take on this. Look, Eli, I know I’m in trouble on this one and I just can’t think straight so I’m here with my hand out.” Lauren tried to keep this businesslike. It was tough. He looked so darn good.

  “Okay. I’ll listen.” Eli rearranged a few things on the table, restacked some papers he was looking at. “Sit down.”

  “You have a nice place.”

  Eli moved suddenly, reaching for her. Lauren shrunk back. He lifted his fingers, and then slowly reached for her purse.

  “I don’t charge for consultations and I promise I don’t bite unless I’ve been invited to.”

  Lauren looked grim, her posture was rigid. She gave up her purse reluctantly and sat on the edge of the sofa. Eli put her purse on a chair by a desk and disappeared. She heard him in the kitchen, was about to tell him not to go to any trouble but by that time he was back.

  “I’ve got pepperoni pizza. Cold. My favorite candy,” he pointed to a bowl of M&Ms, “pretzels. Beer, wine, or soda. Take your pick. Last thing, I’m not going to listen to you rag on me or the bureau unless you’ve got a reason. Other than that, talk away.”

  Lauren’s jaw moved as her eyes slid left then right.

  “Water,” she said. “I’ll have water.”

  Eli opened a beer and set it in front of her. “I don’t buy bottled and I doubt you’d like the tap stuff.”

  “Okay.” Lauren picked it up, took a sip and held the cold bottle atop knees that were held so tightly together they had merged. There was nothing left to do but admit she’d screwed up and hope to God Eli Warner had some words of wisdom. “Here goes. I was working late. Henry Stewart was waiting for me in the garage. He told me he’d been at Caufeld’s house the night he died. He gave me a picture of the man who was driving the car.”

  “Can I see it?”

  Lauren dug in her pocket and handed it over. Eli glanced at it and set it aside.

  “When Caufeld drove away, this guy got scared and took off. Supposedly they had burgers and then took Henry back to where they’re hiding him.”

  “Do you know where that is?”

  Lauren shook her head. “Nick Cheshire was one of the people he trusted in their cell. He didn’t know that Nick was hurt.”

  “I assume he does now,” Eli said quietly.

  Lauren looked toward the floor. She nodded.

  “Can I assume that Henry Stewart also knows that Nick was working for us?”

  Lauren looked up, cocked her head. She had screwed up so bad. “Yes.”

  “I see.”

  “I could have called the guard. I didn’t. I let Henry get away, Eli.”

  “Then I’d say you’re in big trouble, Lauren.” Eli was not vindictive. He only stated what she already knew. She took no offense. “I don’t see that there’s any way to keep the powers that be in the dark.”

  “I know. I know.” Lauren was up. She put her beer on the table and paced as far as she could, turning on a pinpoint to come back. “I’m not asking to be excused, but I’ve got to sort things out before I face Abram.”

  Eli sat without eating or drinking. He watched and noted the nuances in her voice and her body language. It wasn’t hard to figure out that she was tortured by what she considered wrongdoing.

  “He was so confused. It was as if he finally realized the kind of destruction he had caused, the kind of pain he had brought to the people who survived. This was a turning point for Henry, and he was taking a stand. I could have turned him with a plea bargain. He was ready to give up his father to save his mother and his own sanity.” She stopped abruptly. “Oh, wow. That’s Laura Nero on the stereo.”

  “Do you like her?”

  “Yeah. I really do.” Lauren’s smile was small and personal.
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br />   “Johnny Mathis?”

  She nodded, comforted by the small talk, and leaving it reluctantly.

  “I could have called the guard at any time. It wouldn’t have been difficult to detain Henry if I’d gone on the offensive, but I didn’t. I forgot all about the bombing, Eli, and all I could think of was Wilson.” Lauren’s hands balled into fists that flailed in tight circles. “If Henry didn’t kill Wilson then I didn’t mind him going. I don’t know what I thought. I suppose I thought I could save him. When he ran, he was so angry, so different than he had been. I felt I’d taken his last chance away from him. Maybe I thought I was going to give him another one when I let him go.”

  Eli leaned forward in his chair. The living room was so small he touched her by just reaching out. Gently, he pushed up the sleeve of her jacket and looked at the welts that were beginning to show around her wrist.

  “Stress makes us primal. We react. It may not be the right thing, but that’s the way it is,” Eli said, letting her sleeve fall back into place.

  “I thought I was better than that,” Lauren said sadly but there was no sympathy coming her way.

  “Why would you think that?”

  Lauren snapped to attention. Eli’s eyes glittered but she wasn’t sure if it was with pleasure.

  “Because,” she answered coldly. “I’ve been through this before if you recall.”

  “No, you haven’t.” Eli sat back, crossing his legs on the ottoman. “Your mother wasn’t murdered.”

  “She was put through the grinder the same way Henry would have been if I’d made sure he didn’t leave. He wasn’t responsible for Wilson’s murder.”

  “And the Bureau isn’t responsible for your mother’s suicide, but you keep trying to find a way to blame it, or me, or anyone but her. Now you haven’t got any answers about Judge Caufeld. When Henry couldn’t give you any answers you sent him away, you weren’t giving him another chance.” Eli shrugged, satisfied that his diagnosis was the right one.

  “Well, gosh,” Lauren drawled. “That is just such a supportive attitude Eli. Thanks very much.”

  “Lauren, what on earth do you want from me?” Eli asked.

  “I don’t want anything from you. I just thought since you were part of all this you might be a good one to bounce things off of.”

  “You don’t even like the part of the system I’m in. You don’t want to listen to what I know. You don’t want Henry to be subjected to the thumbscrews now that you don’t think he had anything to do with killing Wilson. Lauren, what exactly is it you want?”

  “I wanted Wilson to have died for something. If he died because he stood up to the militia, that would be honorable and heroic, but now I don’t think they had anything to do with it. The Independent Militia wouldn’t have had a tag team. Henry sent off one way, another team waiting to follow Wilson.”

  “I agree,” Eli said.

  “Henry thinks it was a law enforcement conspiracy. He said that before he even knew Nick was a plant.”

  Eli scoffed, “You expect someone who hates the government to say anything else? Look, Lauren, what are you doing here? If you want to know what I know, I’ll be happy to tell you, but I can’t tell you everything will be fine.”

  “That’s not what I came for.” She flopped on the sofa and pulled a pillow onto her lap. “There was nowhere else to go.”

  “I know.” She looked hard at him and saw no pity. “But you made it that way and it’s about time you took a look at that circumstance.”

  “That coming from someone whose friends line up at the door?” Lauren regretted those words the minute they left her mouth. A tremor ran through her. She may be a lot of things, but she wasn’t cruel. She threw the pillow back on the couch. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I’m going home.”

  Eli was up before she was. “Hey. It’s okay. Nothing wrong with the truth.”

  “There is when it hurts.”

  Eli shook his head and offered a wry smile, “The truth hurts more often than not, believe me.”

  “Where’d you hear that?”

  “Nowhere. Just figured it out on my own. I learned from a master.”

  “Yeah?” Lauren pulled the pillow back onto her lap.

  Eli settled on the floor, legs crossed, elbows up on the coffee table. “Want to hear some truths? The kind that aren’t going to make you happy? You can listen and if you don’t like it you can leave.”

  Lauren nodded.

  “Wilson Caufeld hired Allan Lassiter out of law school. The relationship was perfect for three years. People I talked to were either jealous of it or amazed by it. Only one person came close to figuring it out. They said “it was love and who could explain that?”

  “That was the only explanation,” Lauren agreed.

  “Then there were the people who said they predicted it wouldn’t last. Fourth year. A big falling out and nobody has a clue why. Even Wilson’s partners didn’t know. One of them told me he suggested Wilson cut Allan loose and Wilson wouldn’t hear of it. Told his partner never to mention it again.”

  “I never heard about a problem.”

  “It took some digging for me to find it. Right there, that says something. You knew those men so intimately and yet even you didn’t know about a crisis.” He paused, giving her time to consider what he’d just said. She never took her eyes off him. “I thought that was curious, but it didn’t raise a red flag. Caufeld was high on the nomination so he was focusing on giving me a professional background. What happened was years ago, and I can imagine that it never occurred to him to say anything. The strange thing is, for some people, this is the only thing they remember about Judge Caufeld. To them, it was a big, big problem. The thing that made me take notice is there isn’t one person who has a clue what the problem was, and for high-profile people, that is very unusual. So now I’ve got a red flag on the pole. It’s not flapping in the breeze.”

  Eli pushed himself up and went to the stack of papers he’d moved. “So I have my interviews but I’ve also got tax returns from the judge’s firm, personal returns, bank records, and correspondence.” Lauren slipped off the couch and looked at the papers he put in front of her on the coffee table. “In nineteen eighty-five the judge transferred a lot of money from his personal account to the firm account in one lump sum. The firm was fiscally healthy so there shouldn’t have been any need for Wilson to infuse dollars, especially personal bucks. That’s what I asked Judge Caufeld about. I asked him why the money transfer was necessary and why his partners didn’t know about it.”

  “And he said?”

  Eli went to the floor, put elbows on the coffee table and his hands up to cradle his face. “I thought I’d hear something about a cash infusion, difficulties with the bookkeeper, something like that. Instead he was silent and that’s telling, Lauren. Then he asked if I would be kind enough to give him some time to confer with someone—a person he cared about—who would be affected by what I’d found. I didn’t think I’d really found anything, Lauren. The fact that he thought I did, meant I was onto something that wasn’t good.”

  “He could have meant me.”

  “I chalked you off the list.” Eli gave her a crooked smile. “You never worked for him. You’ve never had a disagreement with him. And I believe you were about sixteen or seventeen at the time. He may have given you an allowance but not thousands of dollars in a big chunk.” He couldn’t look at her, so he traced the label of the beer bottle. “Besides, Caufeld used the word ‘he’. I know he was talking about Allan Lassiter and whatever this is, it can hurt Lassiter bad.”

  “And you think Allan killed Wilson to keep him quiet?” Lauren laughed outright. “That’s crazy! Not only would Allan never hurt anyone, but he sure wouldn’t get physical to protect himself. That man could crush anyone in court. That’s what he’d do.”

  Eli leaned back, propping himself up with his arms behind him.

  “And what if he couldn’t bring it into court without implicating himself in something?
Come on, Lauren, he’s exactly the kind of man who would figure out how to get someone out of the way. He’s self-centered, his success depends on his public perception of success, and he likes the good life and doesn’t want it jeopardized.”

  “You make him sound so cold.” None of this was funny anymore. Lauren pushed around a piece of pizza, hoping to distract Eli, too. She failed.

  “Convince me he isn’t,” he said.

  Lauren put aside the food and sat back. Eli’s place didn’t seem so welcoming anymore. Her neck ached. It felt like someone had shoved a steel rod up her spine. Her head pounded with a deep dull throb.

  “I’ve got to go. I shouldn’t have come.”

  Lauren stood up. She felt confused, unsure if she wanted to leave or stay and talk this out. She stepped around the coffee table. Leaving would be the best. The music had stopped, and Eli didn’t look quite so charming. The sense of safety she had when she first walked in was gone.

  “Yes, you should have come. You should talk about this, Lauren,” Eli murmured. As she passed, he took hold of her ankle. It was a light touch and then his hand closed around it. “If you hadn’t had concerns about Lassiter, you would have gone to him. Be honest enough to admit that.” Lauren closed her eyes, so very aware of the warmth in the room, the warmth in his touch and the black space in her heart where there was no one waiting for her. His touch lightened. “You want the truth. We’re truth seekers, right? Just be honest about what kind of man Lassiter is.”

  “He’s handsome, he’s smart. He was always there to cheer Wilson up; he ate at restaurants he hated because Wilson liked them. He teases me and gets away with it He helped me through law school. He cheered when I graduated. He’s my family.”

  “No bad qualities? Not one?” Eli asked. He let her go but she didn’t move. Instead, Lauren looked down, right into his eyes. Her heart was so heavy.

 

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