A Game of Inches

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A Game of Inches Page 14

by Webb Hubbell


  “I hope so, too, but I’m seldom wrong.”

  29

  I HEARD A quiet knock on the front door and rose to let Martin in. I gave his associate the keys to my car, and he left immediately. Martin shook hands with Pat who gave him a brief outline of the night’s events. He asked to see the hot tub and check the sniper’s line of sight before we left. He told Pat he’d be back tomorrow afternoon with a few men, but they would hardly be noticed. They exchanged contact information, while I gave Carol a goodbye hug, promising to be careful. She didn’t believe me.

  Once we were in the car, Martin handed me a new phone. “All set up and ready to go. Clovis and Stella will be here first thing tomorrow. He said he’d be up if you wanted to call. He’s curious as to why you need Stella. Mr. Matthew’s tech guys are going to be thrilled.”

  I smiled when I thought of Stella—Stella Rice. I had worked with Stella in the Stewart case. She was a computer hacking expert trained by IBM, but sure didn’t look the part. She owned a gym and taught high intensity CrossFit workouts, including flipping tractor tires. During the Stewart case she had come to DC to check out our office’s computers and had blown away Walter’s IT guys. They try to hire her at least once every six months, but she’s happy in Little Rock.

  She met Clovis on the same case, and they now live together—a very unlikely pair, but it works. I punched in his number.

  “Clovis, I appreciate your coming,” I began.

  “Forget it, Jack. What can you tell me? Do you really think someone’s after you? Again?”

  “I know, I know. And the answer is I’m not sure. But that shot was real, and it scared the shit out of me. As far as I know the only unconventional thing I’ve done in more than a year is meet with Billy Hopper. Look, it’s complicated, and I’d rather tell everyone at once. First things first—Beth.”

  “Paul is already on his way to New Orleans. He didn’t want to scare her over the phone. Do you think she needs protection? She won’t like it.”

  “I don’t know, but if someone wants to get to me, she’s on the very top of the list. I can’t afford to take any chances. Thank Paul for me—I hope he won’t need to be there very long.”

  “He volunteered. He and Beth have become friends after what they went through in the Cole case. Why do you need Stella?”

  “I won’t be surprised if she finds our computers and office have been compromised. I also need her to set up a system of communication while I go off grid.”

  “In other words you need to be on grid while you’re off grid?”

  “Something like that. Why don’t you two stay at my house? Sophie loves Stella more than me. Besides, I won’t be there.”

  “Where are you going to be?” he asked patiently.

  “I’ll explain everything when you get here. One of Martin’s men will pick you up at the airport. Come to think about it, staying at my house might not be a good idea. Let me think on it: we can decide later.”

  “Does Maggie know what’s going on?” He was right to ask.

  “Not yet. She just got back from Europe a couple of days ago. Whatever I end up doing, she’ll be mad as a wet hen,” I said glumly, thinking she’d probably blame Carol for the whole thing.

  “You got that right. By the way, Stella wants to know about how long we’ll be there.”

  “No more than two weeks. If we don’t have this mystery solved in two weeks, the bad guys will have won.”

  “Aren’t you being a little dramatic?” Clovis asked skeptically.

  “Well, maybe, but I don’t think so.”

  We hung up after he gave me a rundown on the situation with Marshall and Grace.

  Martin drove in silence for a few minutes before I said. “I hope you don’t think it’s a reflection on you that I called Clovis?”

  “Nah—Clovis and I work well together, and from what I just heard we’re going to need more than my boots on the ground. Besides, it’s about time Stella checked out our systems again. It works out well.”

  We drifted into our own thoughts for a while. Martin broke the silence.

  “Do you think Mrs. Matthews is at additional risk?”

  “Well, I hope not, but she might be. Whoever shot at me clearly had no concern for Carol’s safety. I hope that if I disappear whoever’s responsible will call off the dogs thinking I’ve been scared off, that the warning shot worked,” I answered.

  “What happens when they discover it didn’t?”

  “Let’s hope they don’t, at least not before we’re ready.”

  “You know, Mr. Patterson, that bullet came very close to ending your life. The explosion alone could have knocked you cold, and you could have drowned. It could easily have turned into more than a warning.”

  “Yeah, that thought has crossed my mind. But if I had been killed, the police would have been called. The press and my friends, I hope, would have investigated, and they might have tied it to Billy Hopper. Why take that risk? No, I think the shots were a warning. For whatever reason, someone wants Billy to take the rap and doesn’t want me involved.”

  “Why not kill Hopper? If Billy didn’t kill the girl, the person who did had plenty of opportunity to kill Hopper as well. Why not kill Hopper rather than have him locked away for life?”

  Good question, very good question indeed.

  30

  I WAS EXHAUSTED after being up all night, but figured I’d have time to sleep soon enough. Martin waited in the car while I packed for a two-week trip. As soon as the hour was civil, I called my dog sitter, telling her there had been an emergency and I’d be gone for at least two weeks. She was delighted when I told her I’d leave a check on the kitchen ledge. I felt a twinge of guilt, but knew she’d take good care of Sophie. The dog loved staying at her house—good thing her parents didn’t mind.

  It was Saturday, so only a few of my neighbors were up and outside to see me carrying several bags to Martin’s Suburban, but that was enough. My briefcase and laptop completed the subterfuge.

  “Make sure we aren’t followed, and then take me to Barker’s—my new home for the next two weeks. Until we have Stella check for bugs, don’t tell anyone, not even your staff, where I am.”

  I dropped my bags at Barker’s—they were expecting me—then Martin dropped me off at the office. Saturday mornings in downtown DC are dead, so I was pretty sure no one had followed us. I asked him where Walter’s insurance company put people up when they came to town. I was pleased to find out one of the hotels was the Mayflower. We could kill two birds with two stones.

  Martin would book a room for Stella and Clovis in the name of Bridgeport Life. It would appear they were in town to work for Walter’s insurance company, something they both did all the time. Clovis could do a little investigative work for me, and no one would be the wiser.

  I put on a pot of coffee and made a call to a friend, Susan Sandler, with Evers Real Estate, a well-respected DC brokerage.

  “Susan, this is Jack Patterson.”

  “Jack—I haven’t heard from you in a while. What’s going on?”

  “Well, I think I’ve decided to sell my house. What do I need to do next? I hear the market’s good, but I honestly don’t have any idea what it’s worth.” She didn’t answer immediately—she was a seasoned professional.

  “We’ll have no trouble selling it if it’s priced correctly. It’s a great house in a wonderful neighborhood. First thing, I’d like to walk through with a couple of colleagues to get their thoughts. Then we should sit down with the paperwork and talk price and timing, etc. We might want to discuss making some cosmetic repairs. I won’t know until I walk through.”

  “I’m going to be out of town for a couple of weeks, but my next door neighbor has a key. Their daughter walks Sophie while I’m out of town. Now that I’ve decided to do this, I’d like to get moving. I trust you: you figure out a price, and email me. I’m sure y’all use Docusign or something like that.”

  Susan wasn’t about to let me be sloppy about such an
important decision. “Tell you what—I’ll go through the house today. I may ask my partner Ellen to go with me. I’ll run the comps over the weekend and get you something by Monday. We should also talk about where you want to land. Your house will move quickly once it’s on the market.”

  “We’ll do that. Listen, go ahead and put up one of those signs that says ‘coming soon,’—it’s fine with me.”

  “Donna thinks those signs are misleading, so do I. I don’t put up a sign until the house is ready to go. Besides, let’s make sure the house is priced right and ready for the market. I’ll move quickly, don’t worry. This is kind of sudden, Jack. Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about making a change for a while. Now I’m just ready to get going.”

  Shoot—I was kind of hoping for one of those misleading signs. I called my neighbor to tell her Susan Sandler would come by today to get a key.

  She had a million questions, which I happily referred to Susan. I had no doubt that the whole neighborhood would know by the afternoon that I was selling my house. Perfect.

  I heard Maggie open the front door. She deposited her stuff on a chair, walked into my office and faced me with a frown. “What’s going on? My driver told me that Clovis and Stella are flying in on Walter’s plane. You send me a message asking me to come in, after telling me you are spending the weekend with your new girlfriend. What’s gone wrong, Jack?”

  Walter insisted on routine protection for Maggie because of his wealth, not because she worked for me, and this morning I was glad he did. Where to begin?

  I spoke distinctly in case our offices had been compromised. “I’m leaving town for a while. Martin wants Stella to do some work for Bridgeport Life. Clovis is coming with her, he says he needs a few days off.” I put my fingers over her lips and pointed to the door.

  Always quick on the uptake, she sighed, “I saw that Rose didn’t replenish my tea. Mind if we walk to Teaism before we get started?”

  We left the building and walked to the Teaism across from Lafayette Park.

  “You think the office might be bugged?” She asked as soon as we placed our orders and sat down at an outside table.

  “I don’t know, but I don’t want to take any chances. My plans right now are still a work-in-progress, but I need everyone to believe that I’ve left town, that I won’t be representing Billy Hopper.”

  “I thought we already agreed you wouldn’t, that you would help him get counsel, but that would be the extent of our involvement. Tell me what’s going on.”

  I told her. Well, I told her almost everything. I didn’t go into all the details about the hot tub or Carol’s suggestion that she and I escape to Bali.

  I began to wriggle as Maggie’s silence lengthened. She finally heaved a sigh and responded.

  “You know this is déjà vu. We’ve had this conversation before about your apparent death wish. You take on these cases you have no business handling, and you almost get yourself killed. I’m honestly not sure I can take this again.”

  “Believe me, Maggie, I understand, and I don’t know what to say other than I’ll explain when Clovis gets here—please hear me out. I know we decided not to represent Billy, and I’m still not sure I’m the right lawyer. But for now, I’m the only one he’s got. Maggie, this thing’s gotten complicated: it’s not just about Billy—or Carol, for that matter. Just hear me out. Okay?”

  “In other words, for now our law firm represents Billy Hopper?” She asked.

  “I guess for now the answer is yes. That is, of course, if you agree.” I gave her my widest smile.

  “Don’t you flash that big puppy grin of yours at me. You know I’m not happy. You just might get yourself killed this time and then what happens to me.”

  “You and Walter travel the world without having to worry about me doing something stupid ever again.” I could tell she was lightening up.

  “And after hearing you out, if I still think we shouldn’t represent Mr. Hopper you’ll drop this representation?”

  “Of course.”

  31

  WE NURSED OUR drinks at Teaism waiting on Clovis and Stella to arrive. I told Maggie about calling Susan Sandlin and my impulse to list the house, explaining it was part of my strategy to convince whomever (I was going to have to come up with a name for the bad guy) that I’d been scared off. Maggie asked if Beth knew what had happened at the Eastern shore. I explained that Paul was probably talking to her right now.

  “Your strategy doesn’t seem quite fair to Susan,” she said tartly. “You know, Beth and I have talked about it a lot. Maybe it is time for you to move.”

  “Oh, really? You and Beth think I should move? When were you going to tell me?”

  “At the right time. You know how special Angie was to me, and I know how many memories that home has for both you and Beth. If you ever get serious about another woman, I’d bet she would have problems spending any time there. Moving might just help you move on.”

  I wondered if all the family pictures had bothered Carol when she came over the other night. She hadn’t said anything, but then again I’m a guy. I don’t pick up on clues very well. Maybe that’s why she didn’t stay that evening.

  “Maybe I don’t want to get over Angie,” I blurted out.

  “Jack, how can I put this? You will never get over Angie. None of us will, or even want to; she’s a part of our lives. But there is a difference between getting over and moving on. Angie will always be present in your heart, but there’s room for someone else. I remember her making you promise to do just that.”

  This conversation was going nowhere, but at least it took both our minds off Billy Hopper. I knew that Beth and Maggie had my best interests at heart, and I can’t say I behaved like I was still in mourning. Maybe it was time to sell the house. But Maggie was right: I’d have to make up my mind. I couldn’t leave Susan hanging.

  Clovis texted that they were on the ground. I texted back suggesting he meet us at Teaism, while Stella should go straight to the office to set up her equipment so we could talk without being overheard.

  Clovis was a big man—I could see him walking toward us from over a block away. We shook hands and he sat down, turning to Maggie.

  “You talked any sense into our boy yet?”

  “I have failed utterly. Perhaps he’ll listen to you.” She knew exactly when to use her Mayfair accent

  I ignored them.

  “Any word from Paul?” I asked.

  “As you might have expected, Beth is worried about you, wants to come to DC,” he answered.

  “I’d love to see her, but she has a job and there’s no reason for her to be here —her presence would blow my cover. I’ll explain after Stella sweeps the office.”

  “Paul gave her your new cell number. I’ll bet that right now Paul, Jeff, and Beth are enjoying a very expensive breakfast on your nickel.”

  I wasn’t about to protest. A New Orleans brunch would put anyone, including Beth, in a good mood.

  Soon Stella texted that the coast was clear, and we joined her at the office. Stella had gone from purple to orange—orange hair, orange nail polish, and orange jeans. If possible her spike heels were even taller than the last time I’d seen her. At least I didn’t see any orange tattoos.

  “New look?” I asked casually.

  “I knew it would drive you crazy—Texas Longhorn orange, just for you. Clovis isn’t thrilled either, but he’ll get over it.” That was Stella, front and center.

  “The set-up in the office is temporary. Your computers have had some uninvited entries in the last few days. I can’t be sure yet, but it’s similar to the activity we encountered in the Stewart case. But it’s safe to talk. Why don’t you and Maggie hand me your phones so I can check them while we’re talking. Jack, I brought you a new laptop, but I can’t transfer anything to it till I make sure your mail or files haven’t been hacked. That will take some time.”

  Maggie handed Stella her phone and said, “I’m sure mine is
safe. I’ve been out of the country, and if Jack is correct, all this just came up recently.”

  Not bothering to respond, Stella plugged Maggie’s phone into her computer.

  This seemed like a good time for me to jump in.

  “Okay, why don’t I fill you in on the events of the last couple of weeks. Let me start from the beginning, then talk about what I see as the only option I have.”

  I briefly gave them a rundown on the press coverage of the Mayflower incident, my invitation to go to Lucy’s and what happened that night, and Marshall’s revelations on Saturday. Clovis shook his head in disgust, amazed that I had accepted Lucy’s invitation.

  I skipped my first weekend at Carol’s and told them about Marshall’s interview, my visit with Billy, my belief in his innocence, Red’s change of heart, and then of course the shooting at the hot tub, absent a few insignificant details.

  After I finished, I said I knew this was a lot to digest and offered to get everyone coffee from the nearby Starbuck’s. Our office coffee wasn’t very good.

  Clovis spoke. “No way. If you’re going to disappear it begins now. I’ll get the coffee. You stay here.”

  Before he could leave, Stella interrupted. “Good idea—whoever is trying to listen to our conversations isn’t happy. They’ve upped the intensity of their surveillance; they can’t get in, but I’ll have to make sure they haven’t come up with something new. If they keep this up, they’re going to really piss me off.”

  “Really?” I teased.

  “Really. And by the way, Maggie, your phone is compromised. I don’t know yet when it happened, but it looks like we’ve got to get everyone new equipment. I hope this doesn’t go as far as your husband’s companies, or I’ll be here all month.”

  32

  CLOVIS RETURNED WITH coffee and after we had all settled, I began again.

  “Look, I know my half-ass plan is just that, but it’s a beginning. Let me give you the basics. Then I need your input.

 

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