The Hill

by Carol Ericson

  “How’d your taxi get here so fast?” The hospital doors slid open and Judd waved her through first.

  “I think he figured the faster he went the better tip he’d get.”

  “Did it work?”

  “I’m a big tipper anyway. Last thing you want as a rich person is to get the reputation of a cheap tipper.”

  “I’ll remember that about rich people.”

  “Some of them don’t care. There are plenty of chintzy tippers among the rich.”

  “I’ll remember that, too.” He stabbed the elevator button. “You’re giving me a lot of good information about rich people.”

  “Ha.” She smacked the button for good measure. “I have a feeling you’ve been in contact with a lot of rich people in your line of work.”

  “Yeah, but none have ever divulged the secrets of the rich to me before.”

  The elevator doors opened and she stepped into the car. “I know. I talk too much.”

  “You’re the most normal rich person I’ve ever met. So there’s that.”

  She tossed back her hair and laughed. “Yeah, we’re a strange bunch.”

  “Nice to hear you laugh.” He cocked his head. “Does that mean you’ve dismissed the idea that I somehow engineered that note from your father?”

  “I didn’t think that.”

  “Yeah, you did. You said it with your eyes and the tone of your voice. You thought I’d tricked you in some way.”

  She smoothed her hand across her warm cheek. “The note surprised me, shocked me.”

  “That’s another thing about most rich people.”

  “What’s that?”

  The doors opened and Judd smacked his hand against one side. “You always have to worry about people using you.”

  She walked past him quickly, tears stinging the backs of her eyes. She’d exposed her weaknesses to him and must seem pathetic in his eyes. She shrugged. “Poor little rich girl should walk a mile in someone else’s shoes, where the fear of feeding your family trumps the fear of being used for your money.”

  “Hey.” Judd grabbed her arm. “I never said that. We all have our problems—rich and poor.”

  Now he felt he had to make her feel better? She stopped in front of Theodore’s room. “And Theodore has his problems.”

  When they pushed through the door, a young woman sprang up from the chair beside Theodore’s bed. “You must be London Breck.”

  “And you must be Shannon.” She reached out and took Theodore’s daughter’s hand. “I’m so sorry this happened to your dad.”

  “Dad’s an ex-marine. He had no intention of backing off when those men tried to steal the car.”

  Theodore grunted. “Those fellas messed with the wrong driver.”

  London studied Theodore’s bruised face. “You’re looking a little better.”

  Theodore grunted again. “Time to get out of this place. The food alone will kill you.”

  London made a half turn toward Judd. “Shannon, this is Judd Brody.”

  Shannon grabbed Judd’s hand in both of hers. “Thank you so much. Dad told me you probably saved his life when you attended to him in that bar.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. The paramedics got there fast.”

  “I owe you one, Brody.” Theodore winced and sank against his pillows.

  “And I owe you, London.” Shannon flung her arm to the side. “Dad’s insurance doesn’t cover this private room or the extra day he’s been in here. The nurses’ station out front said it had been taken care of, and I’m sure that means you.”

  “Your father works for BGE and he’s been a family friend for years.” London gripped the back of the plastic chair and leaned over it.

  “Well, I appreciate it, and my sister and I appreciate that you called us right away.”

  “I’m just glad you could come on such short notice. That’s another thing, and I don’t want any arguments. I’m paying your expenses.”

  Shannon opened her mouth, but London stopped her with an upheld hand. If she couldn’t do stuff like this with all the money she had, what was the point in having it? “It’s done. Now, why don’t you go get something to eat while I talk to your dad?”

  Shannon’s gaze traveled to Theodore, who waved his hand. “Go on, girl. I’m mighty tired of your fussing.”

  Shannon wedged her hands on her hips. “You can have him, London.”

  When Shannon closed the door, London skirted the chair and sat down. “Are you feeling better, Theodore?”

  “Don’t you start. I feel fine.”

  “Good.” She pulled the envelope from her purse. “I have something to ask you about Dad.”

  His eyes dropped to the envelope. “Fire away.”

  “Did Dad ever say anything to you about Joseph Brody and the Phone Book Killer case?” If she expected surprise on Theodore’s face, he didn’t deliver. Her pulse ticked up a notch. “Did he?”

  Theodore looked at Judd. “He knew about it—everyone did. He was even on the police commission at the time.”

  “He was?” She scooted her chair closer. “What did he say about it then?”

  “When some of that evidence came out against Brody—” Theodore’s eyes shifted to Judd again “—he was surprised, like everyone else. Thought it was...unfortunate that a good detective had fooled everyone. Thought it was an embarrassment for the department.”

  Judd braced one shoulder against the wall. “He believed in my father’s guilt?”

  “At the time I think he got caught up in it, but it turned out that first victim’s husband was just trying to cover his tracks.”

  London twisted the edge of the bedsheets. “We know that now, but are you telling us that Dad believed Joseph Brody was the Phone Book Killer?”

  “He did. Sorry, man.”

  Judd pushed off the wall. “No offense taken. A lot of people thought he was guilty. He killed himself—that sort of screams guilt.”

  “That’s weird.” She pulled the note from the envelope. “At one point, did Dad change his mind, and why?” She shook out the note and handed it to Theodore. “Looks as though he felt bad about it and wanted to somehow set the record straight.”

  Theodore reached for his glasses on the bedside cart and put them on. He held up the note and scanned it. “Where’d you find this?”

  “That’s what’s so strange. Mary Kowalski hand delivered it to me. Said Dad asked her to keep it and give it to me after he died.”

  Theodore’s forehead furrowed. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Exactly. I thought you might be able to shed some light on it, but you’ve only added to the mystery.”

  “Not really.” Judd shoved off the wall and loomed over Theodore’s bed. “You said he was on the police commission at the time. Who else was on the commission?”

  “Couldn’t tell you that, but I’m sure you could find out. What are you aiming at?”

  “I’m not sure. If he knew my father was innocent, maybe others on the commission knew it, too.” Judd blew out a breath and stepped back. “You know what? It doesn’t really matter, does it? The real killer confessed to my brother, and my father’s name has been cleared. How or why your father knew about it isn’t an issue at this point, is it?”

  London narrowed her eyes. For a minute there, Judd had dropped the pretense of not giving a hoot about his father’s reputation, but he’d recovered himself nicely—back to the aloof, slightly sardonic, devil-may-care P.I.

  “I just think it’s weird that my father left me a note from the grave about this. Why not some warm words for me or remembrances of my mother? It’s clearly something that bothered him.”

  “Now your father’s dead, my father’s dead and his name has been cleared.” Judd’s heavy lids fell over his
eyes. “Doesn’t matter.”

  Theodore nodded. “I agree, London.”

  “I guess I’ve been overruled here.” She snatched the letter from Theodore’s lap and stuffed it back in the envelope. “Are you going back to Atlanta to see your other daughter when you get out of here? I know you have another grandson you haven’t seen yet.”

  “I know that tone of voice.” He rolled his eyes at Judd and winked. “Boss’s orders?”

  “Boss’s orders.” London’s lips twitched. Sometimes it was good to be the boss. “Let me know before you leave town. Call me at the office—something happened to my phone.”

  She heard Judd’s intake of breath but ignored him. She didn’t want to tell Theodore about the break-in at her place or Griff’s murder. He might get it into his head to stick around.

  She had all the bodyguard she needed.

  “I’ll do that. If they let me out of here tomorrow, I’ll probably take a few days to make arrangements before leaving.”

  “Make sure you put all expenses on your BGE credit card—airfare, everything. I mean it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  They waited until Shannon returned before leaving Theodore.

  Judd turned to her at the elevator. “You didn’t want to tell him what happened at your place?”

  “I didn’t want to worry him.”

  “I agree. Nothing he could do about it anyway.”

  They reached the lobby and Judd hesitated at the door. “Are you going straight back to your place?”

  “Yeah.” She patted her stomach. “We never did have lunch.”

  “I could use something to eat. I was going to stop by my office and get that equipment I mentioned yesterday. I still want to do a clean sweep for bugs at your place.”

  “Why don’t you do that, and we’ll meet at a restaurant near your office for lunch. I can grab a taxi over.”

  “There’s a decent Italian place down the block from my place—Napoli’s.”

  “I know it. I’ll get us a table.”

  She snagged a taxi near the emergency room entrance as Judd took off on his bike. She gave the driver her location and collapsed in the backseat. Both Theodore and Judd had been quick to dismiss her father’s note, but she couldn’t do it. She and her father hadn’t always gotten along, but she knew him. For him to leave a note with Mary to give to her after his death, it had to be something of great importance.

  Why hadn’t he told her this when he was alive? Better yet, why not tell the Brodys? If he felt so bad about it, why not tell the people it affected the most?

  The police commission. It had to be related to his time on the commission. It coincided with the events of Detective Brody’s downfall. Maybe unraveling this mystery would help reveal the reason behind Brody’s suicide.

  That alone should motivate Judd. The fact that his father had taken his life bothered him more than the suspicions surrounding Joseph Brody. Maybe she could use her pull to give Judd some closure on the issue. That would be worth more than any retainer she could pay him.

  “Excuse me.” She leaned forward in her seat. “I need to make a stop first. Take me to the financial district.”

  The taxi driver nodded and took the next turn.

  When he pulled up in front of the building, she said, “Wait here. I’ll be about ten minutes.” She dashed into the building and back up to the BGE offices.

  When she saw London, Celine reddened up to the roots of her hair and jumped off the edge of her desk, where she’d been flirting with one of the guys from marketing. “Did you forget something, London?”

  “Yeah, in my office.” She brushed her fingers in Celine’s direction as she started for the office. “I’ll get it.”

  London closed the door behind her and pressed a button to drop the blinds over the windows. She moved behind the desk and extended her foot beneath it to feel for the lump beneath the carpet. When she located it, she pressed down with her foot.

  She ducked under the desk and lifted a piece of carpet. Then she slid a panel of the floor to the side and reached in for her father’s laptop.

  When he’d showed her this hiding place, he’d told her that nobody knew about it, not even Mary.

  She’d seen him put this laptop in here before and hadn’t thought about it when he’d passed away, since all the main BGE business resided on the desktop computer in this office. But this had been his private laptop, and if her father had had any secrets they would be on this computer.

  Just like she’d kept her secrets on her laptop—the one that had been stolen from her place yesterday morning.

  Maybe her father had had the right idea with a secret hiding place.

  She replaced the panel and carpet and then smoothed it with her hand. She shoved the laptop into her briefcase.

  Leaving the blinds closed, she swung the door open.

  Celine had returned to her chair and was typing away on her keyboard. “Did you find everything okay?”

  “I did, thanks.” She slowed her gait. “I forgot to mention that I’m going to get a new phone. I don’t have mine anymore.”

  Celine stopped typing and shoved her glasses onto her nose. “London, is it true that a security guard at your building was murdered last night and that you found his body?”

  London stumbled to a stop. Did everyone know the rest of the story? “Yes, I did. The police don’t want me to say anything about it right now.”

  “That’s so creepy. Is that why you have tall, dark and gorgeous looking out for you?”

  “A little extra security never hurt anyone.”

  “Especially extra security like Judd Brody. He can guard my body anytime.”

  London had no idea what kind of expression just crossed her face, but it had Celine backpedaling. “I—I mean, I’m sure he’s professional and all and you don’t see him like that. And I don’t see him like—or I wouldn’t see him like that if he was guarding my body...I mean, if he was my bodyguard.”

  London tried a stiff smile. “I know what you mean. He’s a good-looking man.”

  “Well, have a great day.” Celine waved and dipped her head toward her monitor again.

  London traipsed toward the elevator, the added weight of the laptop causing her briefcase to bang against her hip. She’d probably just confirmed to Celine that she thought of Judd as much more than a bodyguard. Maybe she never should’ve invited Celine to call her London. Mary still called her father Mr. Breck, even after his death.

  She could be a different kind of CEO than her father and still be successful, couldn’t she? Of course, she didn’t even know what a successful CEO looked like. Did it mean having everyone around you address you by your surname?

  Too bad her father hadn’t left her a rule book—Being a CEO for Dummies.

  She scrambled back into the taxi. “Okay, on to Napoli’s.”

  She still beat Judd to the restaurant. She got a table for two by the window and watched out for his arrival. She heard him before she saw him—the distinctive growl of the Harley’s engine.

  He rolled the back wheel to the curb and lifted the helmet from his head. Sliding from the bike, he tucked the helmet beneath one arm and strode into the restaurant.

  Worn denim encased his long legs and his boots clumped across the wood floor of the restaurant. He pulled out the chair across from her. “Waiting long?”

  Actually, she’d just arrived, but he didn’t need to know she’d made a stop. “Not too long. You changed.”

  “I couldn’t keep running around in a suit all day.”

  “I hear you.” She tugged at the lapels of her jacket. “Did you get everything you need for my place?”

  “I packed a bag. I’ll pick it up after lunch.” He tapped the table. “The service isn’t usually this slow here. You don�
�t even have a drink.”

  “I, uh, waited.”

  Two minutes later Judd had an iced tea in front of him and she had a sparkling water. Fortunately the waitstaff hadn’t recognized her, or if they had, they didn’t let on.

  “Nothing from the police yet about Griff or my phone?”

  He crunched a piece of ice and held up his finger. “Got a call from Detective Curtis. As we figured, the texts sent to your phone came from a disposable phone that can’t even be pinged. It must’ve been destroyed already.”

  “Great.” She squeezed the slice of lemon into her water. “I suppose I can understand why the burglars murdered Griff. He saw them and they wanted to keep him quiet. But why involve me? Even if I hadn’t discovered the body, I would’ve found out about the murder.”

  “Scare tactic.”

  “But why? They already broke into my place. All this would make more sense if they sent me some kind of message. Are they trying to scare me into doing something or not doing something? How can I comply when I don’t know what they want?”

  “You’re attributing way too much logic to a couple of thieves and murderers. Maybe one’s a psychopath and likes playing mind games.”

  She slumped in her seat. “That makes me feel a lot better.”

  His hand shot out and covered hers for a brief moment. “I’m sorry. You didn’t strike me as the type of client who wants me to hide things. You asked how Griff died yesterday, and I told you because you deserve the truth. But maybe you don’t want that truth.”

  “Just give it to me.” She sucked the lemon juice from her fingers and her mouth puckered.

  Judd’s blue eyes deepened in color and intensity. She had not calculated her actions to get a response from him, but it seemed to happen naturally.

  If they’d met in a bar or at a party, they’d be in bed by now. Or maybe the old London would’ve headed down that path. The CEO London would shake his hand and leave him her card.