Magic Moment

by Adams, Angela

  Ned answered for Chase. “My client took his wife to meet his aunt. He returned to Philly for the day, and Mrs. Donovan chose to remain behind. When you interviewed Mrs. Donovan previously, did you advise her not to leave Philly?”

  Saunders’ lips remained tight.

  Ned’s easy smile was pompous. “In that case, Mrs. Donovan is free to go wherever she pleases.”

  “Why did you have Laura under surveillance?” Chase asked.

  Saunders clamped his lips as if he had been provoked into saying more than he intended. After a pause, he spoke directly to Ned. “Laura Roberts, Laura Donovan or whatever she calls herself, needs to answer more questions. Your client, counselor, will be released when she walks into this building to do so.”

  Before giving Ned a chance to comment, Saunders stormed out.

  Chase turned to Ned. “He does have a certain charm, doesn’t he?” he asked with a sarcastic bite.

  Ned disregarded his friend’s familiar cutting wit. “Chase, what the hell is going on around here?”

  Chase frowned. “I have no idea, counselor. Isn’t it your job to find out?”

  “How well do you know Laura? How much of her background do you know?”

  Chase almost replied the truth; not much. “Why?”

  Ned answered Chase with more questions. “Are you sure she told you the truth about her meeting with Saunders? That he kept her waiting? Asked a few crummy questions about merchandise? How do you know that she’s not involved in anything criminal?”

  Chase laughed. The suggestion was an asinine one. “Criminal? Laura? No way.”

  “Why? Because she’s a pretty woman? Who was quiet? Because she came to work and did her job?”

  “Because of how I found her on my boat. My father’s behavior on the telephone,” Chase snapped.

  “All he told you was to not get involved with her,” Ned reminded him. “To stay out of the situation. Your father’s words are open to many interpretations.”

  Chase’s response was a contemptuous scowl.

  Ned leaned closer. “I’m not saying those actions on your boat weren’t deplorable, or your father and this Daniels aren’t involved in illegal activities.”

  Apprehension crawled through Chase. He wasn’t clueless to Ned’s implication.

  Ned continued. “Suppose whatever’s going down, Laura is a major player. So major she has the FBI watching her.”

  He waited for Chase’s reaction. When all he got was a fixed stare, Ned went on. “Laura’s role is so key the fed’s interest makes somebody decide she needs to be disposed of. Your father, Oliver Daniels, whoever. They’re afraid she’ll cut a deal for herself and start talking.”

  “That’s crazy,” Chase muttered.

  “You think?” Ned raised an eyebrow. “So involved is Laura that when you suggested you both get married and pregnant, she agrees. She knows you’ll do everything possible to keep your wife, your child’s mother, out of jail. You’re an attorney. Plus, you got money, lots of it.”

  “No way,” Chase said, shaking his head. Ned’s theory was incredible. “Not Laura.”

  The attorney refused to give up. “From what you told me, it took you two minutes to convince her to marry you and have your child,” Ned said. “I’ve seen firsthand your way with the ladies, buddy. Sure, you attract women like ants to a picnic. But be realistic. You said yourself that you and Laura hardly spoke in the office.”

  “I said we made general conversation,” Chase corrected, aware the slight modification wouldn’t deter his friend.

  Ned continued honing his point. “You say let’s get married and have a baby ASAP, and she agrees.” Snapping his fingers, he added, “just like that.”

  Laura had been so excited to be pregnant. Chase had been relieved, although her reaction had puzzled him. He hadn’t dwelled on her enthusiasm, but rather reveled in his own.

  She had been putting on an act? No, it couldn’t be. He didn’t want to believe his sweet Laura, who he had fallen in love with — he, Chase Donovan, who never imagined wanting only one woman — was pure and simply playing him for a sucker.

  Ned went on. “When you found her on the boat, she said no hospital. No calling the authorities. Maybe she didn’t want to explain her own dirty deeds.”

  Chase quickly defended her. “After I talked to my father, Laura did suggest we contact Saunders. I nixed the idea.”

  “She suggested because she knew you’d refuse.” Ned pursed his lips. “She gambled on you protecting your father.”

  This was nonsense. But unease nagged at Chase like those buzzing green-headed flies on Magic Lake Island.

  There was Laura’s rainy-day money. Was it really from a trust fund? Or was the money her share of a corrupt business arrangement with Dick Donovan and Oliver Daniels?

  “You still want me to see if you call her?”

  Silence hung for what seemed like eternity. Feeling a tightness in his chest, Chase thought the ache might be his heart breaking.

  “Let’s wait until tomorrow.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Laura recognized the name, Ned Stahl. Cooped up on Madre during the storm, Chase had amused Laura with college stories of pranks with his friends, Ned and Tom. Lonnie gripped the phone’s receiver, and the color drained from her face. Laura clutched her stomach. Chase was injured. That was his reason for not answering his cell phone, and for not calling last night.

  Oh, God, an accident had never occurred to her. She had assumed Chase was apathetic about speaking with her. Her mind ran with speculation. Ron and Lou had caught him. The man on the pier watching Madre had returned. Or Daniels or whomever — they couldn’t get Laura so they hurt Chase.

  Lonnie replaced the receiver. “Laura, Chase has been arrested,” she murmured, her tone incredulous.

  Laura felt her insides tighten. “What?”

  Lonnie explained the events that had Chase in a federal jail cell. Laura needed to return to Philadelphia and secure his release.

  Relief that Chase was physically intact, evolved into a simmering anger. Any thoughts of the man on the pier disappeared, and she targeted her ire at Special Agent Ross Saunders. Laura was convinced the man hassled Chase to spite her. If she remembered whatever the agent was so certain she knew, she would surely tell him. Saunders wasn’t as terrorizing as the men who had dragged her on Madre, but his constant threatening presence was as disturbing.

  Lonnie drove the Toyota into Baltimore, and the two women caught a late morning train. Laura caressed her cell phone, smiling, remembering the evening Chase had given it to her. He had been so thoughtful. Perhaps he didn’t love her, but he did care about her. That he was locked away like a two-bit thug tore Laura’s heart. She dialed the phone number Ned had given Lonnie.

  “Ned Stahl,” the voice answered.

  After introducing herself and inquiring about her husband’s welfare, Laura gave the attorney the time their train was due.

  Clipping her phone to her jeans, Laura thought Ned sounded aloof. She shrugged off her qualms. Not only was he Chase’s attorney, but his friend, and the detached manner Laura had heard was preoccupation with Chase’s circumstances.

  Scarcely two hours, the train ride felt like two long, tedious days. Tears stung Laura’s eyes. The minutes must have hung for Chase as he sat in a jail cell. She bit back her fury toward Saunders. Why wasn’t he looking for the men who had abducted her? Who Chase was convinced were still after her?

  Unless Chase hadn’t given up Ron and Lou? Hadn’t told what had occurred on Madre? Why not? Was he sacrificing himself to protect his father?

  The women stepped from the train car and onto the cement platform. Lonnie pointed to the stocky, bearded, dark-haired man standing by the escalators.

  “Laura,” Ned said, with a fast nod after Lonnie had made the
introductions.

  Anxiety coursed through her. “How’s Chase?”

  “Jail’s not fun,” he replied, his tone curt.

  As the group walked from the train station, through the parking lot to Ned’s maroon Ford sedan, he explained Chase’s situation. He directed his comments to Lonnie. Laura speculated Ned spoke to Chase’s aunt because they were familiar. He offered Lonnie the front passenger seat while seating Laura in the back. He conversed with Lonnie, telling her Chase had conveyed the details of the past two weeks. To Laura’s knowledge, Chase’s aunt wasn’t aware of what had led the couple to Sea Tower. Nevertheless, Ned continued his dialogue with the older woman, overlooking Laura completely.

  By the time Ned drove the sedan into the parking lot across from the federal office building, Laura’s suspicions had been confirmed. Either as Chase’s attorney or Chase’s friend, Ned Stahl did not like Chase’s wife.

  Ned marched the women through the revolving door, stopping for the portly navy-uniformed security guard. The attorney then led the way to the bank of elevators where an available one, doors spread, waited. He pressed the floor button and the elevator ascended upwards. They were the only three people in the car.

  “When can I see Chase?” Laura asked.

  Ned looked at her briefly, before turning back to the panel of floor numbers. “You’ll have to see Saunders first.”

  “Laura, are you feeling okay?” Lonnie asked, putting a protective arm around the younger woman’s shoulders.

  The baby demanded a nap. “I’m a little tired,” Laura sighed. “I want to pacify these people, get my husband, and get out of this city.”

  The elevator doors opened. A man leaned casually against the wall. Tall, light-haired, California surfer type, in his early thirties, he straightened when he saw them.

  “This is Kevin Woolfe.” Ned made the introductions all around. “Laura, Chase wanted me to sit in while you spoke with Saunders, but one attorney representing you both might be perceived as a conflict of interest. Kevin is a former associate. You’re in good hands.”

  Kevin smiled. “That’s a sincere compliment coming from you,” he said to Ned.

  Fear gripped Laura. “Chase wants me to have an attorney. Am I being arrested?”

  “No, not at all,” Kevin said. Exchanging some legalisms with Ned, Kevin appeared up to snuff on events. “It’s never a good idea to speak to a federal badge without an attorney.”

  From that very first day, when Chase had intervened, he had wanted Laura to have an attorney. She had refused, convinced everything was a misunderstanding. Misunderstanding or not, the situation grew worse with each passing day. She wished she had listened to Chase that day in the diner and allowed him to accompany her.

  “I’ll show you where you can wait,” Ned said to Lonnie, taking her elbow. “Laura, Kevin will take you to Saunders.”

  Kevin lightly touched Laura’s back and guided her down the corridor. “When will I be able to see my husband?”

  “Let’s go talk to Saunders,” the attorney replied.

  The agent’s office was simple and efficient. Desk with computer. A beige four-drawer file cabinet. There was nothing to personalize the room. No family pictures on his desk. No paintings on the wall. Not even an accommodation plaque.

  All day Laura had been piloting on a combination of fear, annoyance, and despair. Upon seeing Saunders, the man who had turned her life upside down, she seethed. Breaking her stride with Kevin, she headed straight for the agent sitting behind the desk and studying a computer monitor.

  “Tell me, Special Agent Saunders,” she blew up. “Have I done something to personally offend you? Have you and I met before? We were reincarnated, and in a past life I rejected you? Got ahead of you in line at the grocery store? Dropped a frog down your pants as kids? What? Because whenever some grievance befalls me, you’re at the center. Now you’re picking on my husband.”

  Saunders, taken aback, rose from his chair. Laura stood before him not as the timid, anxious woman he had ushered from the diner. She displayed her personality’s feisty, fighting side that appeared whenever she was pushed to her limit.

  Kevin, having caught up, stood beside his client. “Laura, I’m your attorney. Let me talk.”

  “Yes, Miss Roberts. If you have an attorney, I advise you to listen to him,” Saunders said.

  “It’s Donovan!” she snapped. “Laura Donovan. Mrs. Chase Donovan.” She took a deep breath, considering the baby. After a calm exhale, she continued. “I’m told you want proof of my wedding to Chase.” She took a paper from her purse along with two snapshots. “Our marriage certificate and two pictures.”

  Saunders took the items. The official document stated Laura and Chase’s names, date and place of marriage, appropriate signatures, including officiator and witnesses. Of the snapshots, one showed a black-robed, balding judge pronouncing the couple husband and wife; and the other was a simple photo taken afterwards. The newlyweds smiled, facing one another, arms wrapped around each other. They had held each other so tightly, she remembered. As if each had been afraid of losing the other. This picture was her favorite.

  Saunders glanced at the objects and handed them back. “No picture of Donovan kissing his bride?”

  Kevin spoke quickly, cutting off Laura’s hostile remark. “My client has provided documentation proving she and Chase Donovan are married,” he said. “You stated you have follow-up questions from your prior meeting. In everyone’s best interest, Special Agent Saunders, I suggest you ask your questions, release Mr. Donovan, and allow my client and her husband to return to their honeymoon.”

  There was a long pause before Saunders nodded, indicating the room with the opened door. “In there.”

  Laura and Kevin followed the agent into the room, a small dreary, windowless area with a square table and four chairs. Kevin pulled out a chair for Laura. Once she was settled, the two men each took a chair. Kevin sat next to her; Saunders across from them.

  “Where have you been, Mrs. Donovan?” the agent asked.

  Laura hesitated, guarded more over his reason for the question, than the actual question. “Why?”

  Saunders shrugged. “It’s a normal question.”

  She glared at the man. “Nothing is normal where you’re involved.”

  Kevin cut in. “When you interviewed my client, did you charge her with anything? Advise her not to leave the area?”

  “No,” Saunders replied grudgingly.

  “In that case, my client has the right to go anywhere she pleases,” Kevin said. To Laura, he whispered, “Tell him where you’ve been.”

  Laura lingered with an answer, hoping the pause annoyed Saunders. “Honeymooning on my husband’s boat. We stopped in Sea Tower. It’s a town in Maryland along the Chesapeake Bay. His aunt lives there.” Didn’t Chase tell Saunders? Or had he? And the agent checked to see if their stories matched?

  Saunders leaned back. “Laura, I have nothing against you. Honestly. It’s not your life I want to make miserable.”

  Her expression twisted in a sneer. “Could have fooled me.”

  He ignored the comment. “I suspect some questionable activity at the Donovan warehouse, and I believe you can provide information.”

  “What kind of — questionable — activity?” Kevin asked.

  Saunders paused. “I’m not at liberty to say. Our investigation remains ongoing.”

  “Last time we met, I answered all of your questions truthfully,” Laura said.

  However, Saunders asked her the same questions as before, regarding the company’s merchandise and invoices, and Laura gave him the exact same answers. Her temples started pounding.

  “How much of our conversation did you tell Chase Donovan?” he asked.

  She looked at Kevin, and he nodded for her to answer. “Everything. Chase was as c
onfused as I was. He was concerned over your inquiries, why you were bothering me.”

  “Laura, do you know who owns the produce company?”

  “Dick Donovan.”

  “And his son,” Saunders informed her.

  “The corporation papers are only in Dick Donovan’s name,” she said. Both Donovan names were on the warehouse lease, Laura knew, to allow Chase to make maintenance and tenant voting decisions in his father’s absence.

  Kevin looked directly at her. “Doesn’t matter, Laura. The business can still be in both names, father and son.”

  Laura shot him a stinging glance. “Whose side are you on?”

  “This isn’t about sides,” Kevin said. “My job is to represent you. Advise you and look out for your interest. Not your husband’s. He has his own attorney.”

  “Listen to your attorney, Laura,” Saunders said with a triumphant chin tilt. “Everything the Donovans have, they own together. The business. The fancy house in the suburbs. Their bank accounts. Their cars. Everything is in both Donovan names. Even Chase’s boat.”

  “You have evidence?” Kevin asked.

  A phone sat on the table. Saunders pushed a button and spoke into the speaker. “Bring me the Donovan File B.”

  Laura felt dizzy. She had been too anxious to eat lunch, and her stomach was queasy. Donovan File B indicated more than one Donovan file. Was there a separate file entirely on Chase? Kevin seemed to surmise where Saunders’ implications were leading. The fact Laura was clueless frightened and unnerved her.

  A dark haired woman in her late fifties, wearing a black tailored skirt and jacket, brought in a manila folder. She handed it to the agent. Saunders looked through the contents before sliding the opened folder across the table. Both Laura and Kevin examined the papers together. Tax returns for The Produce Market, bank statements, deeds, and titles, including the title for Madre, all in the names of Richard Chase Donovan, Jr. and Richard Chase Donovan, III — Dick and Chase Donovan.

  Saunders leaned forward and rested his folded arms on the table. “Your husband doesn’t own a thing by himself, doesn’t have a personal pot to piss in. If the Donovan business went down the tubes today and all the assets seized, your husband would be flat broke. Left without a cent.” The thought of Chase being penniless seemed to make the agent happy.