Link wanted answers to that plus a few more of his questions, and he wanted those explanations soon. But how to get them without attracting suspicion? How could he look at the records he needed without arousing curiosity?
As if in answer to his question, he remembered the newest attorney in town, also from Dallas, with whom he had come in contact several times over the past few years--the last time only a few months ago. He liked Vincent Bertolli and admired his expertise.
The picture of Vince in yesterday's Cartersville Reporter had been a pleasant surprise for Link. The newspaper photograph showed a Chamber of Commerce ribbon cutting ceremony to officially open Vince's new offices on the Court House square.
That's what I'll do. First chance, I'll pay Vince a visit.
Chapter Fourteen
Early the next morning, Link poured over a detailed county map for possible new sites to observe the compound of mobile homes. He dared not go back to the point he had used the day he was spotted. The men who pursued him would be especially vigilant now and probably had set traps or had someone checking the place he’d used before.
Link intended to use much of his spare time watching for anything suspicious at the compound. He agreed with Travis that he would eventually see indications of a large shipment of drugs brought in or out. More than that, he hoped to see at least one of the persons in charge of the scheme.
He spread the large aerial map across the pool table in the ballroom. Billiard balls weighted each corner while Link poured over an area with the aid of a magnifying glass. He'd obtained the map from Travis, a better one than those routinely used by the sheriff's office or state highway department.
Jason came up the stairs from breakfast and stood beside him. "Whatcha doing, Dad?"
Link glanced up and smiled at his son. Jason was all scrubbed and clean--just looking at him made Link proud.
"Doing my homework. You ready for school?"
"Yeah--um, yes, sir, but you don't need to take me today. Tommy and I are gonna walk together."
Jason had made several friends in the neighborhood, and Link tried to remember which one could be Tommy. "Do I know Tommy?"
"Da-a-ad. Tommy Winfield, from around the corner. His dad talked to you about the fence."
Link remembered the family. William Winfield wanted to put a new fence in their back yard and wanted Link to share the cost of the section separating their properties. That was another expense he hadn't anticipated, and Winfield seemed annoyed when Link told him it would have to wait until at least next month.
"Right. Sure. Now I remember. Be careful, and come straight home after school, okay?"
He gave Jason a hug and then a pat. Jason laughed and hurried to the front stairs. Sounded like Jason was sliding down the banister. Link had done the same thing more times than he could count. Even thought his Nana Akridge had pretended to scold him, her twinkling eyes gave her away each time.
Link smiled then turned his attention back to the map. Of two possibilities for scrutiny, one looked superior. Although it would put him across the river, he would have several good observation points. Yep. He chose that one. Now to figure out who owned it and how he could use it without being spotted by anyone.
With his decision made, Link rolled the map and slid it into a tube. He left the map in the ballroom bookcase and ran down the back stairs into the kitchen.
Maggie stood at the sink washing dishes. Today her dress was a small green print. She always wore thick support stockings, and sturdy shoes. Her salt and pepper hair was pulled into a neat bun at her neck.
After fence repair, next on the list came a dishwasher. Good thing he’d installed that new hot water heater. When would it all end?
Maggie turned when she heard Link enter the room, drying her hands on her checked pink apron. "Are you off on another mission, Lincoln? I'm so glad you're working days now."
She always called him by his full name, never the shortened version. She handed him a thermos of coffee and sack lunch.
He swiped a leftover piece of crisp breakfast bacon that lay on a paper towel. "Me, too. I'll see you in time for supper. I promised to shoot hoops with Jason when I get home."
Chapter Fifteen
Anna admitted to feeling a bit defensive about her latest scheme, but she prepared to do battle on this one. “It’s something I really want to do.” She fluffed the roses in the twig-covered vase and centered the container on the center of her table. Jason Dixon had made the container from a soup can and popsicle sticks in Indian Guides this week, then cut pink roses from his dad’s bushes to fill it.
Vince shook his head, his face a study in bewilderment. “When I suggested you get over your hatred of cops, this isn’t what I meant.”
She couldn’t believe her own brother would say such a thing. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, it’s certainly not for him. It’s for the little boy, Jason.”
Her anger evaporated when her heart and her gaze strayed to the pages of artwork taped to her refrigerator. Jason drew them for her, and brought her a new one several times a week. He liked her, with no agenda but friendship. How rare was that?
“He’s the sweetest child and a perfect little gentleman, but not in a sissified way. His dad has to work so much on the old house that he doesn’t have much time to do things with Jason. Plus, that nice housekeeper, Maggie, doesn’t even have a dishwasher, and the plumbing is always breaking down.”
“So you’ve come up with this phony historical preservation grant scheme?”
She crossed her arms across her chest. “Vince, it’s not phony if I actually award the grant.”
He tilted his head and raised a brow. “Even if no one applied for it?”
“Well, I can make it an annual grant if that will make you happy.”
He shook his head then sketched a mock bow. “Anna, I know how much money you give to charity, to people you meet on the street or read about, how much you’ve given to members of our family. As a recent recipient of the Savannah Sophia Zimmerman Benevolence Fund For Relocating Attorneys, far be it for me to complain. I certainly don’t begrudge whatever use you choose for your own funds.”
She faced him with hands on her hips. “Then what is your problem with this?”
He tugged at his ear. “It’s true he’s been away a few years, but I’m not sure he’ll believe there’s any such thing as your Cartersville Historic Preservation Award.”
She sent him an exasperated glare. “Well, you’ve persuaded juries, surely you can persuade one man to accept a gift.”
He rolled his eyes and exhaled. “Okay, let me get this straight. He gets everything on this list. You’re sure?”
She nodded, feeling as foolish as he thought her. “Yes, but it has to be done in a way to preserve the historic integrity of the house and grounds. Then the cop will have time to play with his son and Jason will have a nice, safe place to live. And Maggie will have more time to enjoy her home and Jason.”
“I’ll tell him tomorrow and let you know what he says. If he arrests me, you have to spring for bail.”
She grinned at him. “Sorry, I’d have to consult my attorney first.”
Chapter Sixteen
Before he left for work, Link and Jason had repaired the dangling shutter on Jason's bedroom window. The centenarian shutter weighed a hell of a lot more than Link had expected. A large gouge on his right shin proved it.
No doubt about it. He would definitely never be mistaken for a pro, but he had at least half the how-to book memorized. His skill in home repairs had increased, but he hated them as much as ever. Maybe more. He slapped a large Band-Aid over his shin before he left for work.
As he walked through the duty room, he spotted Virgil Lee cuffed to a chair. Damn that man. What event had him in custody at ten minutes before eight in the morning? Link stopped in front his cousin.
"What are you here for?" Link figured it was too early in the day for drinking, even for Virgil Lee.
Virgil Lee ducked his head in emba
rrassment. "Had me a little disagreement this morning with my boss. You know, Ralph Gaynor over to the airport."
"A little disagreement?" Link had heard his cousin worked at the small local airport after losing his job at Meacham Field in Fort Worth.
Drinking problems aside, Virgil Lee was reported to be a whiz at airplane repair and maintenance. In spite of his mechanical ability, his hot temper and fondness for alcohol had lost him more jobs than anyone could count. He’d been fired from all the Metroplex airports and airlines and was now stuck at the small local field.
"Yeah. He said I missed a day of work last week and left early yesterday so he was docking my timecard. I was counting on a whole week's pay."
"So, did you miss a day and leave early?"
"Yeah, but he sure as hell had no right to dock my pay. I worked extra lots of times and didn't get no pay for it."
Link looked around. The deputy who usually worked this desk was nowhere in sight. "Now what are you going to do?"
Virgil Lee gave a shrug but refused to meet Link's gaze. "Big Momma's coming up here. She says she's gonna pay my fine and fix everything--get Gaynor to keep me on and drop the charges and all."
"Virgil Lee, some day Big Momma's not going to be around to tidy up after you."
Link saw the temper spark in Virgil Lee's eyes. He started to rise, but the handcuffs made it awkward and he sank back in the chair.
"You think you're so hot? What's so great about being a penny ante deputy in one of the smallest counties in Texas anyway?"
"For one thing, I'm not cuffed to a chair."
"Damn you, if it wasn't for your grandma's big house and money, you wouldn't even be back in this one-horse town. You’d be livin’ high on the hog in Dallas. What do you know about being stuck in this shit hole all your life?"
Link’s anger flared. "You're thirty-four, for crissakes. It's time to get that giant chip off your shoulder and get your life in order."
Virgil Lee slumped forward and put his head down. "Yeah, yeah." He looked up and his face puckered up as if he might cry. "I know, Link. I've been trying, honest. Damn, but it’s hard."
The awkwardness of the situation stretched into a deafening silence before Link said, "Well, take care of yourself. I’d better get to work or my boss will do more than dock my pay." He clapped his cousin on the shoulder and turned to go.
“Link!”
The anguished cry pierced Link. He turned back to his cousin.
Tears rolled down Virgil Lee’s face. “What am I gonna do?”
Link pulled a chair to face his cousin. “You keep hanging out with the companions who suck you back into drinking. Virgil Lee, you’ve got to stay away from them.”
“I can’t. They’re the only friends I got.”
A deputy Link hadn’t met came back to the desk and shot Link a puzzled look.
Link checked the name over the man’s badge. “Webb, this is my cousin. Give us a few minutes here, will you?”
“Sure, no hurry. I have phone calls I can make.” He grabbed two folders from the desk and moved to a vacated space across the room.
Link asked, “Do you love Nadine?”
Virgil Lee’s head snapped up. “’Course I love her. She’s the most important thing in my life. I’m nothin’ without her.”
“She loves you, though Lord knows why. If you love her, stop drinking. You owe her your best, and that doesn’t include being knocked around or having you drink up your pay.”
“I know, I know.” Virgil Lee sobbed, “Oh, God, why can’t I act like she deserves?”
“Seems like Mom said something about you going to rehab?”
“Twice, but soon as I get home it’s all for nothin’. Look at me. I’m strong as an ox. I can beat any man—“ he shot Link a wry glance ”—almost any man with my fists. But when it comes to liquor, I can’t fight the thirst worth a damn.”
“I know it’s tough, but you can do it. Just keep thinking about Nadine and how much she loves you. That ought to help.” Link looked up. “Uh, oh, Big Momma’s at the reception counter. Virgil Lee, you’ve got to break those apron strings.”
Virgil Lee swiped a sleeve across his eyes. “Yeah, well, you can be the one to tell her.”
Chapter Seventeen
One look at Goddard's scowling face and Link knew the man was in no better a mood than he had been the day before. In spite of Goddard's crusty temperament, Link liked the guy. He figured Goddard was as honest as they came and had nothing to do with the security leak.
But how could he be certain?
Goddard dispensed with a greeting and barked, "Dixon, I hear you knew this Dunaway woman. You know her relatives?"
Link thought a moment before he answered. "Sort of. Can't say I know them well. Don't know how close they were to Mitzi, but her aunt and uncle live near me and are friends of my parents."
"Good enough for a starting place. You take her relatives and friends. Find out who she's been seeing, where, and when." He turned to Eddy and barked, "Wells, you take care of tracking down this ex-husband. Then get with Dixon on the people here in town. I'll tackle the Tarrant County pathologist's office and see if I can speed up the damned autopsy."
Link took a detour and made his next stop the office of Vincent Bertolli, Jr. A placard identified a cheerful older woman as Jessica Holmes.
"Good morning, Ms. Holmes. I don't have an appointment, but I'd like to see Vince."
"Could I give him your name, Deputy?"
Link pulled out a business card and handed it to her. She disappeared into the next room. While he waited, Link looked over the reception area. Elegance and style, with a blend of antique and traditional furniture.
He thought he recognized a camelback settee from his sister's antique shop. The dark cherry lamp table with the piecrust rim looked familiar, too. Great, he hoped Gwen had been the source for all the antiques in the room.
Ms. Holmes quickly returned. "Mr. Bertolli asks you to come right in."
Vince stood as Link entered. He and Vince were close in age and both had black hair. Vince stood and inch or so under six feet and solid, stocky build compared to Link’s own lanky six-feet-four. Easy going and friendly, Vince seemed to like everyone--except those who broke the law. Link agreed with him there.
"Hey, been working out?" Link asked as Vince grasped his hand in a killer grip.
"Had to. Getting soft in the gut." Vince asked, "Say, what's it been, three months? The retirement party for Judge Haynes, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, probably was. I saw the newspaper picture of your ribbon cutting. You living here or commuting?"
Vince beamed and launched into a description of his latest acquisition. "I just bought the prettiest piece of land in the state--it's south of here on the river. Until I can build, though, I'm stuck in a lousy apartment here in town."
"It'll be worth it to have what you want," Link said.
"My thoughts exactly, although it can’t happen too soon for me. Hey, listening to you rave about Cartersville started me thinking about this as the ideal place to settle down. Heard you'd moved back but hadn’t gotten around to contacting you yet. Couldn't stay away any longer, huh?"
"Jason and I moved back about a month ago." Link didn’t go into the inheritance thing but let his gaze roam around the room. Handcrafted bookcases lined the wall behind a massive mahogany desk. "Quite an office you have here. Not as plush as the one at your old firm, but very impressive. Feels more inviting."
Vince looked pleased. "My sister decorated it for me. I would have used chrome and glass. Anna went for antiques to keep the spirit of the restored downtown." He tugged at his cuff. “This just a welcome to the neighborhood, or business?”
Link took the chair near the desk. "I have a unique problem. You know what deputies make, so you know I haven't much money to pay you."
“Of course, some of my clients moved with me, but I think I can work you in pro bono.” Vince looked pointedly down at the copy of TEXAS LAW REVIEW that lay open on
the polished and otherwise uncluttered desk.
Link got the idea that business was a little slow for Vince's taste. He laughed. “Not free, but maybe a discounted rate.”
Vince smiled. "What's the problem?"
"Two problems. First is probably just personal. The other is strictly business and confidential." Link unbuttoned his shirt pocket and took out a folded sheet of paper. "I've outlined everything here."
Vince took the paper and scanned it. When he looked up, his brow furrowed above eyes so dark a brown it was hard to tell where the iris stopped and the pupil began. "Let's see--Coy Cox? Do I know him?"
"You've probably seen him riding his bike around town. He pulls a homemade cart behind the bike and collects aluminum cans, bottles, odds and ends--anything he can sell for recycling or salvage."
The attorney nodded, "Ah, yes, I've seen him. Didn't know his name." Vince's gaze returned to the bottom of the sheet.
Link sat motionless, his hands resting lightly on the arm of the chair belying the tension in his body. Sharing information involved risk. Was Vince as trustworthy as he believed?
When Link spoke, he masked his doubts. "If I start checking on these things, it'll get back to the wrong people. Lawyers or aides pour over records all the time. No one will question you checking this. Will you do it?"
Vince hesitated only a second before agreeing, his expression solemn. "Sure. When do you need this information?"
"Yesterday would be perfect," Link said and flashed what he hoped was a brilliant smile.
"I'll bet it would." Vince returned a sardonic grin. "Well, I'll see what I can do." He folded the sheet of paper and slipped it into the inside jacket pocket of his brown suit. "Believe it or not, I have a client coming in about half an hour. After that, I'll get busy on this."
"Vince...I don’t want to talk about this at work. If you need to talk with me about any of this, call me at home. My number's on the sheet of paper. If I'm not there, leave your name with my housekeeper."
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