Just Cause

by Susan Page Davis

  “And you were married the summer after you graduated.” Dan scanned a sheaf of papers. “Who’s the Brody in Hatcher & Brody?”

  “Bob’s Uncle Jack.”

  “His mother’s brother?”

  “Yes.”

  “Which brings us back to Renata Hatcher, the dragon lady.”

  “She was furious when Bob announced our engagement.”

  “That must have been rough on you.”

  “She tried to break us up. She bribed him and threatened him. Threw other girls at him every time he went home for a weekend.”

  “Why?” Judy asked, sitting up.

  Those old feelings of inadequacy struck Laurel, and she drooped in her chair. “Renata hated everything about me. I majored in anthropology, which she considered to be a worthless field of study. Not only that, I had the gall never to use my degree. Instead I married her son and, in her view, sponged off his family. I painted mediocre acrylics. She bought old masters. I put up a badminton net in our yard. She played golf at the country club.” She grimaced at Dan. “It was more than that, though. I was too conservative. And Bob wouldn’t go along with a lot of things his family did after he became a Christian. I think she blamed me for that.”

  Dan sat forward eagerly. “What kind of things?”

  “Well, he wouldn’t drink anymore, even at client dinner parties, and Renata found that humiliating for some reason. And he wouldn’t fudge figures on estimates. He gave his father a lot of headaches that way. Wayne decided he could live with it, if that’s what it took to keep his straight-arrow son in the firm, but Renata wanted the old Bob back.”

  “Which meant what?”

  “Well, I think he’d always been tractable before that. Always doing what Daddy told him.”

  “And Mommy?” Dan asked.

  “He always kicked a little at her edicts, I think. It’s hard to say. I didn’t know him until he was past twenty.”

  “But you loved him,” said Judy.

  Laurel sank back into her chair and didn’t look at Dan. “Of course. Bob was my hero. He stuck to his faith, even though his family derided him. And he married me against their wishes, and made his mother throw a huge wedding for us. I think he appealed to her social pride. She was afraid people would think she was cheap if they let us elope. It was scary, but I figured he’d always be there as a buffer for me, and that once they got to know me, they’d resent me less. I think Wayne got to where he liked me a little. But not Renata.”

  “What about Bob’s work situation?” Dan asked.

  “Bob stood up to his parents and Uncle Jack. He told them he was going to do things by the book, and if they didn’t like it, he’d go work for someone else. I was so proud of him. The only thing was, they got him to stay. I hoped for a while that he’d actually go with one of their competitors.”

  “Was anyone mad enough to kill him?” Judy asked.

  “Oh, no, they loved him, in their twisted way. Besides, this was back when we first got married. If they were mad enough to kill him then, why wait four years?”

  “Something must have happened to turn somebody against him,” Judy persisted.

  “Someone hated him,” Dan agreed. “They ruled out robbery at the murder scene.”

  “Yes, Bob had over two hundred dollars on him that day, and four credit cards and a nice watch. There was no evidence of a break-in, either, and nothing was missing from the house.”

  “It says here you went in through the garage when you got home from shopping that day.” Dan tapped the papers in his hand.

  “Right. I always did.”

  “So, the door was locked?”

  “Well, the garage door was down. I don’t think the door between the house and the garage was locked. We usually left it unlocked.”

  “But the front door and the door to the backyard were locked.”

  “The police said so later. I didn’t check.”

  “So nobody could have gotten in there unless Bob let them in.”

  Laurel shrugged. “I’ve thought about it, and I don’t see how. There weren’t any open windows or anything like that.”

  “Okay, it was Saturday. Bob played golf that morning.”

  “Yes, with his friend Larry.”

  “Oh, yes, Larry.” Dan smiled grimly. “Bob’s best friend, who did his best to put you away for life.”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Sounds like it to me.” Dan flipped through the court transcript. “Here it is, right here. Laurel could beat me any day with a handgun. Prosecutor: Did you ever see Mrs. Hatcher fire her husband’s nine-millimeter pistol? L. Mason: Yes, she and Bob were target shooting with it in the fall, before the murder. She knew how to handle it.”

  “But that’s all true.” Laurel remembered the day Larry went with them to practice, at the shooting range Bob had set up in a gravel pit. “We shot a lot of cans and targets that day. Larry’s pretty good. Not as good as Bob was.”

  “Not as good as you, either, apparently,” Dan said.

  She closed her eyes. She didn’t like to think Larry believed she had killed Bob. He’d always been friendly to her. He and his wife, Tina, socialized with her and Bob.

  “So, they played golf that morning,” Dan went on.

  “Right. They played fairly often. I didn’t think Bob would get home until late afternoon, and I went shopping.”

  “But he beat you home. His car was in the garage when you got there?”

  “Yes.”

  “That would be the Corvette.”

  “Yes. Does it matter? Larry drove that day.” Dan’s tone irritated her. He sounded a little too much like the state prosecutor. “Is there a problem? Other than my husband being murdered, I mean?”

  He winced. “No. I’m sorry. Let’s get back to what your mother-in-law said about arguments.”

  She shrugged. “Renata hated me. She’d ask Bob to do things with her and not include me. I tried to laugh it off, but it hurt. He spoke to her about it, and for a while things were better, but not much. Toward the end, I thought there was something going on. She pestered him about something, but he wouldn’t give in. He’d come home from work depressed, so I figured it had to do with his father and the company. He wouldn’t tell me about it, and that upset me.”

  “So you had a fight?”

  Laurel sighed. “I wouldn’t have called it a fight. But I got careless and said something I shouldn’t have in front of his mother. She grabbed it like a frog going for a fly. Used it over and over to prove that I hated Bob’s family, had no respect for my elders, and didn’t appreciate anything the Hatchers had done for us.” She shook her head. “I prayed and cried over that more than anything else in my marriage. I’d tried to be careful and never give her a reason to criticize. As long as she hated me for no reason, I could bear it. But when I’d actually committed an offense, I couldn’t defend myself.”

  Judy stood and collapsed her lawn chair.

  “I need to get ready for the concert. You’d better get moving, Dan. Or have you got your tux in your pickup?”

  “Afraid not. Guess I’d better go. I’ll pick you both up in an hour.”

  Laurel’s heart surged, but Judy laughed. “In your truck with two instruments? No, thanks. We’ll meet you at the hall. You can bring Laurel home if you want.”

  Laurel walked with Dan through the breezeway to the garage.

  “Dan, is there something about the Corvette? You seemed to bridle at that.”

  He gave her a sheepish smile. “No. I don’t have a problem with the Corvette. It’s just ... I was feeling a little jealous, I guess.”

  “Because of Bob’s car?”

  “No, silly. His wife.”

  Chapter 9

  The string quartet was scheduled to perform after several other artists in the concert. Laurel sat by herself in the second row at the community college auditorium, nervously waiting for Dan, Judy, and their friends to come on stage. An a capella choir, a solo pianist, and a jazz guitarist
came first. She sank back in her chair, relaxing as the melodies filled the hall.

  She had seen Judy’s black gown, and Dan had met them at the stage door when they arrived, so she was prepared for the group’s formal attire. Dan in a tuxedo had taken a moment to assimilate. His friend Joe, the cellist, laughed at her expression.

  “Hey, Daniel, hasn’t this gal ever seen you in anything but a uniform?”

  Laurel had blushed and stammered, but Dan didn’t seem embarrassed when he introduced Joe and Marcia. She wondered if she should have worn something more formal herself, but when she went to join the audience, she found herself surrounded by teenagers in jeans and families in casual attire. Her print skirt and corduroy vest were a bit dressier than what most of the audience wore.

  The quartet was announced, and Laurel held her breath. They were beautiful, all four of them, and their music almost painfully perfect. Judy especially impressed Laurel with her skill in Beethoven’s “Opus 18 No. 5.” Mozart’s “Eine Klein Nacht Music” was one of Laurel’s favorite pieces, and the entire ensemble played brilliantly, with the notes leaping out, fresh and bright.

  As she watched Dan’s face, a deep longing grew inside her. She wanted to understand this part of him. He focused intently on the music during those few minutes. He wasn’t as proficient as Judy, but he was very good. She wondered how old he had been when he first held the bow in his hand. Only an excellent musician could keep up the tempo they maintained on the Beethoven piece.

  The quartet received a thunderous ovation from the crowd, and she wondered if they would play an encore, but the master of ceremonies moved along smoothly to the next act, a vocal duet. Laurel wished she were backstage with Dan and the others. As the applause for the singers began, Dan slipped in beside her.

  Laurel sat back, enjoying just being with him. The rest of the program whizzed by, and suddenly the emcee was thanking the audience and the performers.

  Judy pushed through the crowd to the end of their row. “Marcia, Joe, and I are going for coffee. Want to come?”

  “Do you think it’s safe?” Laurel asked as they edged into the aisle.

  “We’d probably better skip it,” Dan said. “Sorry. We took a chance letting you come here.”

  Judy nodded. “Okay, next time. You’ll take care of Laurel?”

  “Of course.”

  *****

  Dan drove at a leisurely pace, hating to arrive at Judy’s house, because that would mean he had to go home to change for his security shift at the hospital. He had a half hour to spare, and he intended to make the most of it.

  He turned onto the main road that led north and reached for Laurel’s hand.

  She smiled at him. “I have some good news. The hospital is going to let me work at home. Judy fixed it as promised. I can pick up the pictures and hard copy anytime during the day and take it home to work on.”

  “Fantastic!” At least one thing was going right for her.

  “But you have to work again tonight, don’t you?” Her brow wrinkled. “You look tired. Drop me off at Judy’s and go take a nap.”

  “There’s not time. But I have more questions for you.” He paused. “There’s something significant out there, Laurel. We just don’t know what it is yet.”

  She took a deep breath. “All right, then. Fire away.”

  “When did Bob get the Corvette?”

  “About four months before he died.”

  “Who paid for it?”

  “Uncle Jack.”

  “Jack Brody.”

  “Yes. It was a gift.”

  “And Uncle Jack made a habit of giving Bob expensive gifts?”

  “No.” Her brown eyes were troubled. “That bothered me a little at the time.”

  “Why?”

  “As you suggest, it was unusual. Jack said it was because Bob was doing such a terrific job, but I wondered if it was supposed to be a ...”

  “A bribe?”

  Laurel ducked her head. “Bob wouldn’t be bribed. His mother tried that.”

  “Seriously?”

  “At one point his dad wanted him to sign off on a bid that couldn’t be executed without using sub-standard materials. Bob wouldn’t do it. His mother figured she could change his mind and dangled a big bonus in front of him. But Bob told them he was ready to quit before he’d do anything underhanded. They lost the bid.”

  Dan sighed. “Okay, forget that angle.” He saw a deep bereavement in her eyes and knew he had put that look on her face. “Laurel, I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head. “You have to ask me these things. I understand.”

  “I wish I knew if it was worth it.” He squeezed her hand. “I don’t want to make you dredge up painful memories. But if there’s any way to help you—”

  “It’s worth it,” she said. “As long as we keep at it, I have hope. Besides, I get to be with you.” She smiled then, the heart-stopping smile that had captivated him the first time he saw her. “So, what other personal questions do you have for me?”

  He signaled for his exit and looked over at her. She was so beautiful—her thick hair rippling over her shoulders, her deep brown eyes that reached into his heart.

  His resolution to keep things in low gear was long gone, but he didn’t care. He would use all his strength to clear her name. In his mind he was starting to see a future for them, full of sunlight and green meadows and laughing children.

  He decided to go for the question that had been haunting him. “Why didn’t you have any kids?”

  She locked her hands together and sat looking out the window, silent for a long moment. “We planned to,” she said finally. “Bob thought we should wait a couple of years. We were young. He wanted to get firmly established in his career.”

  “So, it was Bob’s choice?”

  She shrugged slightly. “I suppose so. We made the decision together, but it was his preference.”

  “If it had been up to you?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters to me,” he said gruffly.

  She seemed to struggle with the answer, and he regretted putting her on the spot.

  “Sorry. Forget I asked.”

  “No. It was high on my list. But … we didn’t fight about it, if you’re wondering.”

  “I wasn’t.” Dan nodded. He could read the pain in her voice, for the children she’d been denied.

  “I just felt I needed to defer to him in that, at least for the time being. Children were part of his plan, just not the immediate part.” Her voice caught. “I’m not sorry now. We did things Bob’s way, and I don’t regret that. I would have loved to have a child, but not now. Not going through this. I shudder to think what would have happened when I was in jail. I had no family. Renata would probably have had custody.” She leaned toward him, her eyes gleaming with a ferocity he’d never seen in her before. “I still want children someday.”

  “I hope God gives them to you.” His throat felt tight as he flipped on his turn signal. Judy’s house was dark, and he eased the pickup up to the garage door. Laurel raised the remote opener Judy had entrusted to her and pushed the button. As the door slid up, the headlights illuminated the interior of the garage.

  “Judy should have left the light on.” Dan pulled the pickup inside, and Laurel hit the button on the remote once more, to lower the overhead door. As he slipped the gearshift into park and reached for the ignition, a sudden movement to the side startled him, and a rush of adrenaline hit him. A dark-clad man stood beside his door.

  Laurel gasped and Dan sensed without looking that a second figure had edged in past the rear bumper on the other side. He stayed his hand and left the engine idling.

  “Get out.” A man in a knit ski mask pointed his Glock at Dan’s face, on the other side of the glass.

  “Laurel, don’t move,” Dan said.

  He heard her labored breath, but she said nothing.

  “What do you want?” Dan called. At least he hadn’t opened the door yet, springing the
locks.

  “Get out.” Glittering eyes showed through round eyeholes in the mask.

  Without moving his lips, Dan said softly, “Laurel, when I tell you, get down.”

  On the passenger side, the second man yanked at Laurel’s door handle. Dan reached slowly toward the gearshift.

  The man beside him whacked the butt of his pistol against Dan’s window. “I said now!”

  “Get down!” Dan ducked as he threw the transmission into reverse. He felt Laurel’s dive and heard the explosion of the Glock’s load as the side window shattered. Glass sprayed over his arm. God, help us.

  He stood on the gas pedal and they roared back, smashing through the garage door and dragging a large panel down the driveway. He whipped the truck around on the lawn and shoved the lever into drive. A bullet pinged against metal, but he didn’t think it entered the cab. He straightened the wheel and gunned it down the street.

  “Laurel?”

  She stirred and he glanced over in the darkness. She was huddled on the floor, bracing herself between the passenger seat and the dashboard.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Stay there for now.” In the rearview mirror he saw headlights in the distance behind them. He fumbled in the pocket of his tux for his phone and tossed it onto Laurel’s seat. “Can you call 911?”

  A moment later the dim light illuminated her face as she frowned over the miniature keypad.

  “Give it to me when it rings,” Dan said.

  Seconds later she thrust it into his outstretched hand. “This is patrol officer Dan Ryan. I’m off duty, and I was just ambushed and shot at while attempting to visit a friend on Peachtree Lane.” He gave the dispatcher the details of the attack while driving steadily toward town. His intentions formed in his mind as he spoke. “I’m heading south, and I’ll come to the police station soon. I don’t think I’m being followed, but I need to hang up so I can concentrate on my driving.”

  Laurel stayed curled on the floor, and he handed her the phone.

  “Call Judy. Tell her not to go home. I’ll call her again once I know you’re safe.”

  Laurel’s voice trembled as she assured Judy that they were all right and the police were on the way to Judy’s house. A few minutes later Dan slowed for a turn.