Accused

by Lisa Scottoline

  “We can’t find him anywhere.” Alasdair came back into the entrance hall and placed his hands on his slim hips. “I’m wondering if he went back to the car. We came to the house without checking there.”

  “I CAN GO LOOK.” Mary’s father began to get up, leaning heavily on his knee, but Alasdair waved him back into his seat.

  “Please, no. You stay here, and I’ll go check at the car.”

  “Thanks so much.” Mary held open the door for Alasdair, who left the house just as Jane returned to the entrance hall, her forehead knit with worry.

  “He’s not here at all, even in the garage. I’m concerned that he might have gone back outside and lost his way. My father used to all the time, even before his illness progressed.”

  “THAT SOUNDS LIKE FEET. HE WAS JUST SAYIN’ HE HAS A BAD SENSE A DIRECTION.”

  Tony-From-Down-The-Block opened his palms in appeal. “See, that’s what I’m saying. Old! Old old.”

  Mary got an idea. “Jane, I think we should check the cottage. That’s right out back, isn’t it? Maybe he found his way there, like you said, getting lost.”

  “You might be right.” Jane turned to Mary’s father, Pigeon Tony, and Tony-From-Down-The-Block. “Would you three mind staying here, so I know where you are?”

  “TALKED ME INTO IT.”

  “Mille grazie.” Pigeon Tony nodded, wide-eyed.

  “Can’t I go?” Tony-From-Down-The-Block looked heartbroken, but Mary shook her head.

  “No, please, stay here. It’s a search party, not a field trip. Jane, let’s go.” Mary headed for the door so Jane wouldn’t think twice and leave her behind, too. She didn’t want to miss a chance to get inside the cottage, which was the suburban headquarters of the Gardner Group. In fact, she was praying that if Feet had fallen, he fell inside the cottage.

  “It’s this way.” Jane hustled out the front door, and Mary fell into step beside her, excited about the potential for information at the cottage. Maybe there would be an employee who could tell her more about Tim Gage, like the way he interacted with Fiona.

  “How many employees do you have down at the cottage?” Mary asked, trying to keep her tone casual. They were walking down a gravel path toward a tan fieldstone house that looked like a smaller version of the main house, except that it had a large parking lot to the right, which was almost empty.

  “Our main headquarters is in town, as you know, and we have a hundred there. There’s only five here, including the lawyers you met the other day, Neil and his staff.”

  Mary was wondering if any of the employees had spotted Lonnie Stall at the house one of the times that Fiona was babysitting Allegra. She didn’t think Allegra was wrong about the babysitting, especially since she hadn’t been wrong about Tim’s being at the party. “The cottage must be a great place to work, in such a lovely setting. A lot more relaxing than Center City.”

  “Yes, that’s what John likes about it, and he never complains about the commute.” Jane smiled, even though her eyes kept scanning the area. Rosebushes in a variety of pink hues lined the gravel walkway, and they passed a row of evergreens that had been planted in front of the cottage and around the parking lot, presumably to screen the business traffic from view. To the far right, beyond the cottage, stood a smaller fieldstone house with a white picket fence mounded with climbing roses, overlooking a wooded countryside.

  “That little house is so charming, and what a view of the woods!” Mary pointed as they walked along. “Is that where Alasdair lives? He mentioned that he and his wife live on the property.”

  “Yes, and the woods belong to us as well, and John’s brothers own the neighboring farms, on the other side of the treeline.” Jane cocked her head. “So, Mary, you’re from South Philly, born and bred?”

  “Yes, can you tell by my accent?”

  “It’s not so bad.”

  “Just don’t ask me to get my coat,” Mary said, accenting the o in the flat, nasal way that Philadelphians did, which was music to her ears.

  “I think you were right, asking Tony to apologize.” Jane’s blue-eye gaze shifted slyly. “Though I know how he feels. I used to think forty was old.”

  Mary laughed. “You can help me broker a peace between Tony and Feet, and after that we can end world war.”

  Jane smiled, striding along. “But first we have to find Feet. You don’t seem to be too worried.”

  “I’m not. I’ve known these guys longer than you, and none of the trouble they get into is very serious. They mean well, despite the hand-kissing and all.”

  “I can see that, and your father is such a sweet man.”

  “He really is.” Mary hadn’t realized the conversation would take such a personal turn, but she wasn’t all that surprised, being a woman. She generally knew everyone’s life history in the first five minutes after she stepped into a ladies room. “I feel very lucky in both of my parents. I owe them everything.”

  “I felt the same way. I’m an only child and I was very close with both of my parents. My mother passed only two years before my father, and I counted my blessings in having them for as long as I did.” Jane’s tone turned tender, and Mary couldn’t help but mention the subject they’d both been avoiding.

  “Jane, I appreciate your kindness to me today, with what’s happening to Allegra, and even though we may disagree on some points, I know you love her and have her interests completely at heart.”

  “I do.” Jane kept her face forward and swallowed visibly. “I love her so much, and I miss her every minute she’s not under my roof. Even when she was at boarding school, I missed her, and certainly now, well, it’s far worse. I’m just trying to do the best thing for her. I always have.”

  Mary felt her throat catch. “I know that, and you can see how much family means to me. The day Allegra came into our offices, my heart broke for all of you, including her.”

  “Thank you for saying that.” Jane stopped, turning to Mary, as they reached the door to the cottage. “You know, you’ve asked me a lot about the property, but you haven’t asked me where Allegra is. I just realized that it must mean you already know.”

  Mary felt nonplussed. She should’ve thought of that, but hadn’t, and she didn’t want to confirm or deny for fear of getting Alasdair in trouble.

  “You needn’t say anything, I know you have client confidentiality and such. But if you happen to see her, please tell her that her mother loves her very much.”

  “Jane, I know it’s not my business, but you have to find your way back to each other.”

  “I doubt that’s possible, any longer. I haven’t been the best mother to her, she may have told you.” Jane’s fair skin flushed pink, and Mary knew she had to be talking about her drinking.

  “None of us is perfect, Jane, and any tragedy causes people to act out of character, until they get their bearings back. That’s what happened to me, after my husband was killed. I was crazy for years, inside.”

  Jane’s mouth turned down at the corners, and Mary sensed her words had hit home. If she was ever going to make a pitch for Allegra, this was the time.

  “Jane, you can still turn it around. I’ve never been a mother, but I’m speaking as a daughter. A girl always needs her mother. That, I know from my heart.”

  Jane’s eyebrows lifted, just the slightest. “She has to want it, too.”

  “She does, she just won’t admit it to herself or to you. Call her at the hospital. Tell her you want to see her. Ask her to put you on her visitors’ list. You go first. That’s why you’re the mom.”

  Jane’s eyes shone with sudden tears, and she opened the door to the cottage. “Now. Let’s not speak of this again.”

  Mary followed her into a large reception room with more Shaker furniture, and eggshell-ivory walls covered with business plaques, charitable awards, and corporate portraits of the three Gardner brothers. The family resemblance was remarkable, the same wide-set blue eyes, the small nose and a strong chin, and each was good-looking in his own way. John s
at in a thronelike chair wearing a boxy Brooks Brothers suit, and behind him stood his two brothers: one who looked remarkably like him, but was dressed in a hipper, more GQ-style suit, and the other looked the youngest, with fewer crow’s-feet, longer hair, a relaxed smile, and a work shirt under a corduroy jacket. The caption read JOHN, RICHARD, AND EDWARD GARDNER, which Mary sensed established the pecking order, because so many of the other photographs were only of John, framed with an array of newspaper and magazine articles that featured him.

  “Susan’s not at her desk.” Jane crossed the room to a matching cherrywood desk, which was unoccupied. The nameplate on the desk read SUSAN WEATHERLY, next to a computer monitor, a Phillies cup full of pens, and a plastic cube that held photos of a chubby gray tabby.

  “Isn’t it lunch time?” Mary checked a fancy wall clock, which read 12:15. The office seemed quiet, almost as if it were empty, so she guessed everyone had gone to lunch.

  “Susan?” Jane passed the desk, heading for an open doorway that led down a hallway, and Mary followed her past architectural renderings of apartment buildings, under placards she read on the fly: Jamieson Mews, Canterbury Village, The Presidential Hotel & Condominiums, and Meyers Towers, which she flashed on as the project Fiona was working on.

  “Hello? Susan, anybody?” Jane ducked her head in a series of offices off the right side of the hallway. Mary lagged behind, reading the nameplates outside each office and trying to commit them to memory, in case she wanted to investigate the employees later. She would’ve used her BlackBerry to take photos of the nameplates, but didn’t want to get caught.

  “Where is everyone? In the backyard?” Jane continued down the hallway, past a file room and a coat closet, then opened the back door of the cottage, when she gasped. “Oh my God!’

  “Feet?” Mary said, stricken. She should have realized that something could have actually gone wrong. She raced after Jane and flew out the back door.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  “Feet!” Mary cried out at the sight. Feet was moaning, his head hanging to the side and his lined face a mask of pain. He lay on the grass next to a picnic table, in the arms of an older woman, with Richard Gardner, Neil Patel, and other Gardner employees clustered around him. Mary rushed to his side on the grass beside him.

  “Mary, Mary!” Feet wailed. His Mr. Potatohead glasses lay broken beside him. “Help me, oh, it hurts!”

  “Tell me, what happened!” Mary scanned his body frantically, but there was no visible injury. “What is it? Are you having a heart attack?”

  “Please, Mary, I’m in so much pain!” Feet wailed louder. “I’m in agony, such agony!”

  “Where? Is it your chest, your left arm?”

  Jane looked up, equally panicky from his other side. “It could be his shoulder, too. You can feel a heart attack in your shoulder.”

  “Jane, relax.” Neil was calmly sliding out his BlackBerry. “He twisted his ankle.”

  “No, I broke it! Oooh! It hurts! I bet the bone popped out of the skin! Oooh! It hurts so much!”

  “Oh, thank God.” Mary felt a wave of relief wash over her, and Jane exhaled, relaxing back on her haunches.

  “Right, it’s not as bad as it looks.”

  “What do you mean!” Feet yelped. “My ankle’s broken and maybe my foot, too! I never felt pain like this in my life! I might even be paralyzed!”

  Mary patted his arm, to comfort him. “I know you’re in pain, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it was nothing. I just meant it isn’t life-threatening. I was scared.”

  Jane patted his other arm. “So was I. I saw you lying there, and I thought the worst had happened.”

  Neil tapped the keys of his BlackBerry. “Sir, if you feel pain, you’re not paralyzed. I don’t know who you are or how you got here, but if you’re planning a lawsuit, you’re mistaken. You’re not a business invitee on this property, but a mere trespasser, and there’s been no negligence whatsoever on the part of the Gardner Group.”

  “Neil, I’ll leave this matter in your capable hands.” Richard straightened up, brushing down his silk tie over a fitted white shirt, which he had on with suit pants. “I have to get back to work. Thanks, everyone.”

  Suddenly the back door opened, and Alasdair hustled into the backyard with Edward Gardner, who had the same curly hair, bright blue eyes, and a work shirt similar to the one in his portrait in the reception area.

  “Oh no!” Alasdair looked appalled at Feet, then at Neil. “Neil, I just got your call. What happened? Is he okay?”

  Beside him, Edward looked shocked, his mouth partly open. “I was just coming over with the tomatoes. My truck’s right out front. I could bring it around, and we can have him at the ER in no time.”

  Neil waved him off. “Thanks, but there is no need. It’s better to call an ambulance. We don’t want to be in a position of providing medical care to trespassers.”

  Mary looked from Edward to Neil. “Neil, I should be the one to take him to the hospital. You don’t need to call an ambulance.”

  Neil raised a palm to her like a stop sign. “No, we’ll handle this by the book, and you, of all people, should understand why. Do you know this man? How did he get here? What’s his name?”

  “Ooooh, my foot! My foot!”

  Mary was beginning to think that Feet was a bit of a drama queen, and The Tonys couldn’t have caused more trouble today if they’d tried. “His name is Feet.”

  “This is no time for joking, Counselor.” Neil held the phone to his ear. “I’m calling 911. I’d like to provide them his proper name.”

  “Tony Pensiera,” Mary answered. “His nickname is Tony Two Feet and his nickname’s nickname is Feet. He came with me and he’s a friend of my father’s.”

  “Susan, do you know what happened?” Jane asked the heavyset woman, who was cradling Feet against her bosom like the Pieta.

  “I have no idea,” Susan answered, mystified. She had a sweet and caring smile, red-framed glasses, and a halo of prematurely white-gray hair. “We were in the cottage working when we heard a scream in the yard, ran outside, and found this man here, on the ground.”

  “Ooooh, oooh!” Feet groaned, rubbing his face with his hand. “My foot, my foot!”

  “Feet, let me check you.” Mary reached over, pulled up each of his baggy pant legs, and tugged down his black socks. She examined each ankle carefully, running her fingers over his bulging veins and ingrown leg hair. Neither looked swollen, much less broken. On the contrary, it looked as if the walk had done him good, and she could swear he had sprouted new calf muscles.

  “Oooh! No, it hurts! Eeeh! Did you see, Mary? Is the ankle bone sticking out? I can’t move it!”

  “Feet, it’s fine.” Mary could see he was more scared than injured. “It’s not broken, not that I can tell. You twisted it, or maybe you sprained it, but we’re going to take good care of you. What were you doing back here, anyway?”

  “Oooh! When I got out of the bathroom, nobody was around. Oooh! I went out of the house. Ouch! Eeeh! I thought I was going to the car but I ended up here. I fell down on the stones.”

  “Sir, there’s nothing wrong with those flagstones.” Neil lifted an eyebrow. “They’re not even slippery, and it’s a completely dry day. There are no divots or holes in the lawn, or anything else that would cause you to fall.”

  “Neil, please.” Jane moved closer to Feet. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. I shouldn’t have let you alone.”

  Neil whirled around, BlackBerry to his ear. “Jane, this isn’t your fault, it’s his. You weren’t anywhere near here. There’s no need for apologies.”

  Jane ignored him, eyeing Feet with concern. “Do you think you can sit up? Maybe we can get you to the table, or inside the cottage, where you’ll be more comfortable?”

  Neil turned again, covering the BlackBerry with his hand. “Jane, please don’t move him. Leave him exactly where he fell, allegedly. I’ve already photographed the scene for the file.”

  Alasdair leaned do
wn on his haunches, eye-level with Feet. “Hang in there, Feet. Would you like a glass of water or anything?”

  Neil stepped away, saying into the phone, “Hello, emergency? We have a slip and fall of a trespasser on the grounds of the Gardner Group…”

  Edward bent over next to Feet, kneeling on one leg, his forehead creased with sympathy. “I bet that hurts a lot. A twisted ankle can feel broken, I know. Sometimes soft tissue injuries are the worst.”

  “Ooooh! That’s what it is, if it’s not broken! It’s my soft tissue! It’s too soft!”

  Mary spied Richard heading for the back door of the cottage and sensed a golden opportunity slipping away. If he had been in charge of the Meyers project, on which Fiona worked, he could have information about Tim Gage, like things he had seen, overheard, or that Fiona had told him herself. Mary knew she had to take a chance because she wouldn’t get another shot. Feet was getting plenty of attention from Jane, Alasdair, and Edward, and Neil and the rest of the staff were otherwise occupied.

  “Jane, Alasdair,” Mary said, rising quickly and edging backwards, “I want to go check on my father and the others, and fill them in about Tony. Be right back,” she called over her shoulder, running inside the cottage. She hustled down the hall looking for Richard and spotted him as he turned into an office to the right, so she hurried after him. “Excuse me, Richard, may I speak with you for a second?”

  “What? Me?” Richard looked up from his desk, frowning under the expensive layers of his haircut. His blue eyes were as piercing as his brothers’, but a shade closer to Arctic. “Neil’s perfectly capable of handling a slip and fall. He’s one of the best corporate lawyers in the business.”

  “I’m not here about the slip and fall. Let me introduce myself—”

  “I know exactly who you are,” Richard interrupted her. There was a mullioned window to the right of his desk, and sunlight streamed through its panes, reflecting off the neat stacks of white papers. “We’re a family company, don’t you think we talk to each other? You’re Mary DiNunzio, a new partner at Rosato & Associates and you represent Allegra in a suit against my brother and sister-in-law. Given those circumstances, what makes you think that I would talk to you?”