In The Absence Of Light

by Adrienne Wilder

  To Deputy Harold, I said, “Can you move one of these tables closer? Just make sure to leave some space.”

  Jeff started to stand.

  “Stay there, I said.”

  “This is an interrogation, not a family gathering.”

  “This is a circus, and for once, you’ll just have to talk out of your mouth and not your ass. Sit, Jeff.”

  His cheeks reddened, but he sat.

  “I’ll go get us some coffee,” Jessie said.

  “I’ll take mine black,” Jeff said.

  “I said, us. Not you.” Jessie went to the back. Thank god, I managed not to smile.

  “Is he on something?” The Bronco-driving agent stared at Morgan.

  “No,” I said.

  “Then what’s wrong with him?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with him.”

  The guy opened his mouth to argue, but his partner gave the slightest shake of his head.

  I walked Morgan over to the table. He stopped again a few feet away.

  “They aren’t going to hurt you. They aren’t even going to touch you.” I shot Jeff a look, daring him to contradict me. I pulled out a chair, and Morgan sat. I stayed standing with my hand on his back, making small circles. He tilted his head up at the light, rocked, and fluttered his hand.

  “Go ahead,” I said. “Ask your questions.”

  “Tell me about the money in your account at Mountain Trust Bank.”

  “It’s not my account.”

  “It has your name on it.”

  “She set up the account and put the money in there. I never wanted it. I told her I didn’t want it.”

  “So Mrs. Day just gave you over a hundred thousand dollars out of the goodness of her heart?”

  “I—” Morgan’s face contorted with the effort to control the tic in his shoulders. “Still not mine. I never wanted the money. She opened the account, not me.”

  “There were over sixty deposits made into that account by Mrs. Day over a five year span. Why would she do that?”

  Morgan shook his head.

  “Her husband says you threatened to blackmail her.”

  “Not true.”

  “You have an awful lot of money in an account that suggests otherwise.”

  Jessie came out with a cup of coffee for me and hot chocolate for Morgan. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

  Nope, Jeff definitely wasn’t happy about the blatant shunning. He tossed his chin at Morgan. “Answer the question.”

  Morgan dropped his head and nodded. I continued to rub his back and after a few deep breaths, he quit rocking. “She wanted me to take the money because she felt guilty.”

  “For what?” Jeff said.

  “For letting my father talk her into getting rid of me.”

  Jeff sat forward. “You make it sound like—”

  “They’re my parents. When my father found out I wasn’t—” Morgan balled up his fist. “Found out, I…”

  “They didn’t want him,” I said.

  Jeff glanced at me. Then he did the one humane act that moved him up on my shit list from cesspool to bottom of my shoe. He didn’t ask Morgan to elaborate.

  “Lori worked for them with Miranda.”

  “Who’s Lori?” Jeff said.

  “She was one of their housekeepers. My father wanted to put me in an institution. My mother asked Lori to take me instead. Mrs. Day gave Lori some money to help out because she didn’t want my father to know. ”

  “You’re saying Lori kidnapped you?”

  Morgan snapped his fingers. “No. Mrs. Day wanted Lori to take me. She made it so she could adopt me.”

  “Do you have any proof?”

  “Like what?”

  “A legal agreement? Adoption papers?”

  “They’re probably somewhere in Lori’s old things but my parents’ names aren’t on them.”

  “Why not?”

  “Mrs. Day didn’t want Mr. Day to know I wasn’t in a hospital somewhere.”

  “Did you ever try to contact her?”

  Morgan shook his head. “She was the one who wrote me letters.”

  “Really?"

  “Where are those letters now?”

  “I threw them away.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I didn’t know her.”

  “Do you remember what the letters said?”

  “I never read them.”

  “I find it hard to believe, if she sent you letters, you didn’t at least read them.”

  “If you doubt him,” I said. “Ask the woman.” If she had a guilty conscience, then surely she would back him up.

  “We can’t,” Jeff said. “She died about a year ago from cancer.”

  “I thought you said the transfers were recent.” And money didn’t just jump from one account to another without prearrangements set in place.

  “Automatic draft?”

  “You don’t sound very sure.”

  “We’re looking into it.”

  “I’d think getting your facts straight before tearing up someone one’s life would be on the top of your priority list.”

  “Why don’t you shut up and let your girlfriend finish answering our questions?” That from the FBI agent I didn’t know.

  I ignored Mr. Unknown, and to Jeff, I said, “Have you checked with the bank to see what kind of arrangements were made?”

  He gave me a bored look. “I know how to do my job, Grant. And as soon as the sun is up and people are awake, I’ll start making the calls.”

  “What about Mr. Day?”

  Another one of those looks. “What about him?”

  “Why did he wait so long to file charges? If his lawyers have been trying to contact Morgan for a year, then he’s known about the withdrawals for at least that long.” My bet was probably longer.

  Jeff exchanged looks with his two cohorts.

  “You’ve already asked yourself the same question, haven’t you? Have you asked Mr. Day?”

  “We spoke to his lawyer; he said the reasons were personal.” Jeff nodded at Morgan. “After what Morgan has said, I think Mr. Day might have been trying to spare him the embarrassment.”

  I laughed. It was a cold ugly sound. “You mean the guy was trying to save face. Now he has to admit he’s Morgan’s father.”

  Jeff shook his head. “Either way, it doesn’t matter. The money is in an account with Morgan’s name on it, transferred from an account by Mrs. Day under duress.”

  I put my hands on the table. “So says Mr. Day. I call bullshit. No one waits a year to involve the authorities when thousands of dollars are being removed from their accounts unless they are doing something illegal or they’re trying to keep something hidden. This guy waited because he had to, not because he gave a shit about Morgan.”

  “All right then, maybe he was just that desperate to keep the relationship between him and Morgan hidden.”

  “Yeah, and if he was, why not just walk away from the money.”

  “Because it was a lot of money.”

  “If it took him that long to do something about the deposits, it couldn’t have meant that much. Not to mention the fact he stopped the transactions. There was no more money going out, so why not just sweep it all under the rug?” It’s what I would have done. Had done. Many times.

  When a deal went bad, you had to be able to let the money go.

  The main reason the FBI could never catch me. I didn’t live the high-maintenance life others did. To me, fast cars, high-rise apartments, fine clothes, meant nothing. Besides, it’s kind of hard to enjoy those things from the inside of a cell. And my low overhead made it possible for me to walk away from millions without putting a hitch in my lifestyle.

  Jeff stood. “We’ll get the details worked out after we get Morgan settled in a holding cell and arrange a meeting with Mr. Day and his lawyer.”

  Morgan slammed his fist on the table, making everyone jump. Jeff put his hand too close to his gun.

  “I didn’t blackmail
her.” Morgan hit the table again.

  I knelt beside him. “Do you know why he waited?”

  Morgan rolled his gaze toward the light. I cupped his cheek. His eyes focused on me. He swallowed several times.

  “He thinks I want to take the money from his company Day Enterprises.”

  Now I knew why the name struck a chord. The guy had written software for a company and became CEO after he married the owner’s daughter and the father died.

  “What would make him think you want his money?”

  Tendons drew white lines down Morgan’s neck. His Adam’s apple bobbed with the high-pitched whine ticking out of his throat.

  I kissed his temple. “Talk to me, Morgan.”

  He nodded, but there was nothing but another stretch of silence. One of the FBI agents stood, and I shot him a look. I think he would have ignored me if Jeff hadn’t given him a nod.

  “Why does Mr. Day think you want his money?” Jeff said.

  Morgan dropped his gaze and tossed thoughts.

  “If you know, please tell him,” I said.

  Morgan stopped moving. “Because when Mrs. Day died, she left everything to me.”

  You could have heard a pin drop in the room—from the next county over. She’d left everything to Morgan. Now it made sense. It also meant things could get ugly. Money could bring the devil out of anyone. The kind of money a billion dollar company made would drive any man to the edge.

  “C’mon. Let’s go.” I stood and so did Morgan.

  “Whoa, where do you think you’re going?” Jeff held up a hand.

  “Home.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You asked your questions; you have your answers, and they make a hell of a lot more sense than any of Mr. Day’s vague excuses.”

  “I appreciate Morgan cooperating, but he needs to be taken into custody until we verify everything he’s said.”

  “No, what he needs is to go home. While he’s at home, you verify everything he said.”

  Jeff clenched his jaw. “Get out of the way, Grant.”

  “We’re going home. You verify his information, and if it doesn’t add up, we’ll come to the sheriff’s office in the morning.”

  “And you expect me to believe you won’t jump ship.”

  “Morgan can’t leave—won’t leave—Durstrand, and if he won’t go, neither will I.”

  “That’s supposed to convince me?”

  I pushed past Jeff. Just outside the door, Jeff grabbed me by the shoulder and spun me around. “I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge here.”

  I knocked his hand away. “No one’s in charge. That’s the problem. You and your boss have a personal problem with me, and no one holding the reins. All of this is bullshit, Jeff. Nothing more than the FBI’s version of a dog and pony show.”

  “I’ve given you a lot of leeway. Way more than anyone ever would.”

  “Only because you don’t have a pot to shit in. And because you have nothing, now you bring Morgan into your case-file fantasy land. Well, I’ve got news for you, Jeff. It’s going to stop. Morgan didn’t steal anything, and you damn well know it. This Mr. Day is pissed off about a will.”

  Money did strange things to people. I didn’t need to tell Jeff how money did strange things to people. We’d both seen it. How a magical piece of paper or bank account number could turn the sweetest of little old ladies into pit vipers from hell.

  “Even if Morgan’s side of the story checks out, he’s still facing assault charges.”

  I opened the passenger door on the truck. Morgan got in. I headed for the driver’s side. Jeff stopped me. Toe to toe, we stood facing each other just like we had back in my kitchen, only this time nothing but pure anger stirred inside me.

  “I can still bring him in,” Jeff said.

  “You don’t care about filing charges against him. Besides, you don’t even have a bruise to show for it. You’re just pissed because you can’t have your cake and eat it too.” I leaned close enough to brush my lips against Jeff’s ear. “You’re jealous, Jeff. And if you keep singing this song, I’m gonna tell everyone who will listen that this is nothing more than a personal vendetta because I won’t stick my dick in your ass anymore.”

  He turned his head, putting our mouths dangerously close. Lust showed in his eyes and he licked his lips.

  “Sorry, Jeff. You’ll just have to keep dating your right hand.”

  I went to get in the pickup and yanked open the door. He caught it. Our gazes clashed again. There was still desire swimming in those baby blues of his, but there was triumph too. “You’re leaving because I’m allowing it.” I got in, but he wouldn’t let go of the door. “His freedom in exchange for information, that’s the deal.”

  “Go fuck yourself.”

  “Don’t think I won’t make his life hell.”

  “Because of me?”

  “Because I’d like to turn this backwards dirt hole into a memory that’s not even worth forgetting but I can’t go back to civilization until you give me what I want. And you will give it to me, Grant.”

  “Only because your bullshit fairy tales about me being on Lorado’s hit list didn’t work.”

  “But now I know what does and don’t think for a second I won’t use it.”

  “I don’t.” Not now anyways. At one time, I might have thought him a bigger man, but not anymore.

  “We’re staying in Maysville at the Hyatt. I’ll reserve a conference room for us to meet in. Will noon give you enough time to get your lawyer on a plane?”

  I yanked on the door. This time hard enough it was either let go or get his fingers slammed.

  He tapped on the window. I should have just run over his ass, but he wasn’t worth tearing out the oil pan.

  I cracked the window. “What do you want now?”

  “Two words, Grant. Homeland Security. You’d be amazed at the creative ways you can apply the law. So don’t stand me up.” Jeff tipped an imaginary hat at Morgan. “You have a nice day, Mr. Kade. Try not to lose any sleep.”

  I cranked up the truck and backed out of the parking spot. Then I hit the gas, hard enough to swing the rear of the truck. Jeff had to jump back to avoid getting clipped by the bumper.

  ********

  There are some perks to having a high-priced lawyer.

  They have two numbers. The office, where you call when it’s important, and their personal cell phone, when it’s a matter of life or death. Or in most cases, freedom or life in prison.

  Harriet answered on the third ring. Laughter in the background almost drowned her out.

  “Sorry to bother you, but I have a situation.”

  “Hang on a second.” Muffled voices grew dim until it was almost silent. “What’s wrong?”

  I told her about the accusations against Morgan, making sure to include every detail. This was not a situation where the abbreviated version would benefit anyone.

  Through the front door window, I watched Morgan at the table, sipping a cup of coffee.

  He said nothing on the way back to his home and his silence had yet to recede.

  “What I don’t get is if this guy really believed Morgan was blackmailing his wife, then why did he wait so long to do anything? And if he was so worried about people finding out he was Morgan’s father, why didn’t he just let him have the money and turn away?”

  “Rich people have some funny habits, you know that.”

  Yeah. I did.

  “But I think you’re right. A man who wanted to keep a secret like this would have walked away.”

  “Why didn’t he?”

  “My guess would be, he couldn’t.”

  I walked over to the porch railing and propped up against the post. “I don’t follow.”

  “Wills can take a while to probate. When he found out about Morgan being the sole beneficiary, he probably tried to go the legal route and have his name removed. Proving the will was changed under duress would make for a great argument. And getting Morgan cha
rged with extortion could be used to support his claim.”

  “Then, what do we do?”

  “Depends on what Morgan wants to do. He’s entitled to the money. Every cent. He also has the grounds for a civil suit against Mr. Day for the false charges and harassment. Basically this could cost the man more than he would have lost in the will.” Which was everything.

  A light mist sprinkled the edge of the porch and left a cool kiss on one side of my face. “I don’t think Morgan wants anything of Mr. Day’s.”

  “Well, we can leave out the lawsuit.”

  “No, I mean, I don’t think he wants any of it. Not a lawsuit, not the money from the will, he doesn’t even want the money in the account in his name.”

  Harriet laughed. “I don’t know of anyone who would walk away from millions of dollars. Especially when it’s a hundred percent legal money.”

  “You don’t know Morgan.” I would have liked to think I did. But I had a feeling I hadn’t even scratched the surface on him.

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I’m not.”

  She made a thinking sound. “Well, that complicates things in a way I hadn’t anticipated.”

  “I would think it would make things easier.”

  “It might, it might not. Do you know if Morgan informed Mr. Day’s lawyer that he didn’t want the money?”

  “He said he told him he didn’t want the money in the account, so I’m going to assume so. Why?”

  A shuffling sound rattled the speaker, then a door clicked shut in the background. When she spoke again, her voice didn’t carry the same.

  “Harriet?”

  “I’m here. I just needed to get to my office.”

  “Your office? Do you normally throw wild parties at your office?”

  “Every time I win an impossible case.”

  “Must have been some case.”

  “You have no idea. Nor do you want to.”

  Considering some of her other clients, she was right.

  “Okay,” Harriet said. “I’m going to make a quick note of everything we talked about.” She relayed each point as she wrote them down. “Does that sound about right to you?”

  “Pretty much.” I went to the front door again. Morgan was no longer at the table. The living and dining room were empty, but the inside of his bedroom and the kitchen weren’t visible.