Lori Claret – another Junior Partner, forty-one years old, worked for Johnson, Lewes, and Ferguson for eight years. She was currently working out of Jimmy’s old office.
Daniel Jones – senior partner, sixty-three years old, worked for Johnson, Lewes, and Ferguson for twenty-nine years. His focus was Elder and Estate law.
I left messages or sent e-mails to all of them. The caller was whispering so it was hard to be certain about gender, but I think that the caller was a woman. That left Cindy Carter and Lori Claret. It was time to dig a little deeper. I googled both of them. Lori had a LinkedIn page and was included in a few press releases from the firm. I could not find anything on Cindy Carter. I sent both women new messages. I didn’t say anything about the phone call. I just said I was following up on the requested information and hoped to hear from them soon.
I was in the middle of updating my Jimmy timeline with the names of the four people/suspects/informants when my cellphone rang. This time it was Jack. He had information and asked me to come to his office.
______
It was three in the afternoon before I made it across the Ben Franklin Bridge and to the Philadelphia FBI office. I remembered the last time I was here vividly. I was a different person then. I didn’t even know Jack. The files I brought him that day changed us both. But I didn’t have time for self-reflection or analyzing our maladroit relationship. Jack had information on Georgia. I parked outside the glass fronted offices, locked my black SUV behind me and went into the building.
When I arrived at the main reception desk I realized how frumpy I looked. My everyday clothing had become workout clothes. At that moment my pale blonde hair was in a ponytail, I had on a pair of gray sweatpants and under my heavy down jacket was a long sleeve t-shirt. In sharp contrast to my ultra-casual appearance, the receptionist looked like a fashion model. Her short brown hair was perfectly styled, her makeup was professionally applied, and her suit was designer with a perfectly tailored fit. Compared to her I looked like a thirty year old slacker wannabe teenager. I hadn’t considered my looks in months, but this hit hard. This was Jack’s world. That beautiful woman was his daily reality. Right then I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. It was time for some serious shopping. I promised myself that after meeting with Jack I would step it up, stop letting the past control me, and I would do something to take care of myself.
Even with that promise in mind it was painful being escorted into Jack’s office by the fashion model. He gave us both a long look. I felt sure that Jack was comparing the two of us and I was the obvious loser.
Jack politely thanked the receptionist and closed the door behind her. His office was small, more like a cubicle. There was a desk, a phone, and an incredibly uncomfortable plastic chair which I guessed was for me. Once he was seated in a much more comfortable looking chair behind the desk, he turned his laptop screen toward me.
“I had the lab put a rush on the blood that was on those clothes. It was pig’s blood.”
Was that supposed to make me feel better? Poor piggy.
“I need you to fill out an official report for the file. The Bureau assigned an agent to work the case, and once I add your report I’ll be turning everything over to him.”
“You’re not going to be following the case?”
“I can’t,” he stated quietly, something like regret in his eyes. “I’m too close to it. They need someone objective.”
I didn’t know how I felt about this latest development. On one hand what he said was perfectly logical. On the other I trusted Jack. I didn’t know this other person.
“Once Agent Roberts takes over the case I am sure he will be contacting you.”
I completed an official report and thanked Jack. Okay, I’ll be honest here, my mind wasn’t focused on the latest development in Georgia’s case. It was on the receptionist. I have never been a “pretty” girl if you know what I mean, but my current state was just bad. I wasn’t wearing any make-up, my hair wasn’t done, I was dressed like I was ready to clean the house. Worse, I went into public like that. My writing job didn’t require me to dress up much, but I needed to have a little self-respect, right?
The fact that my fear had consumed me so much that I had stopped caring about my appearance was an eye-opener. When I got home I took a long look at myself in the mirror and an even longer look at my closet. It was shameful. My toenail polish was chipped. My fingernails were uneven. I couldn’t remember when I’d last had my hair done or let myself buy something new. I had let myself hide away from the world in every way possible. I’d let the fear keep me from living.
That was ending today.
First stop, shopping. I got my laptop and dove into online shopping. Two hours later I was poorer but I had some truly great clothes on their way. I made an appointment for a spa day, manicure, pedicure, massage, and haircut. I was renewing myself. I felt in charge and determined to stand strong. I was going to find out what happened to Jimmy and I would beat Georgia. I was reclaiming my life. I would not play the poor damaged victim anymore.
I spent the next several hours researching. I kept going back to my timeline. There was something not quite right. I was missing something. I needed to figure it out.
It was two more days before I had an idea. It might have been the worst idea I’d had in a long time, but then I have had some very bad ideas.
I needed to actually see and talk to the people at Jimmy’s law firm. I needed to make a trip to Washington D.C.
Chapter 10
The woman sat with her legs crossed and tapped her manicured blood-red nails on the surface of her antique white desk. The investigator she hired to follow Charlotte Marshall provided the pictures laid out before her. They showed a before and after of her contacting Charlotte. They weren’t showing the results she wanted. Her tapping nails grew more forceful and angry as she used her other hand to flip through the pictures.
The pictures at the beginning of the month showed Charlotte looking timid and afraid. She dressed in clothing that would never draw attention. She only left her house when she needed to. Her face was taut and her body lean with stress. They were pictures of a frightened child. One who looked over her shoulder and rushed into her house or to her car.
Looking at those pictures made the woman smile. This was the Charlotte that she wanted to see. She wanted Charlotte afraid and desperate. She wanted Charlotte to cower and to run. She wanted Charlotte to feel fear. Instead, over the past couple weeks Charlotte had become stronger.
The tapping got faster. Stronger!
She went out more. She got her hair and nails done. She wore new clothes. The woman slapped her hands down on the pictures, a scream boiling up in her throat. This was unacceptable. Charlotte needed to suffer. She needed to know there was no way out.
She would know that already, if the help the woman hired wasn’t so incompetent. The scream that erupted from her throat matched the scissors that she plunged into a picture of Charlotte’s face. Sharp.
It was time to up the game.
Chapter 11
Deciding what I wanted to do and actually doing it were two very different things. Time had flown. I hadn’t heard anything from Georgia or from my mysterious caller in over a week. You would think that would make me feel better, but it only made the wait seem worse. I wasn’t foolish enough to think I was off the hook. She was still out there. I could feel it.
The drama with Georgia complicated my plan to go to Washington D.C. My friends and family wanted me focused on staying safe, not off chasing another mystery. It proved I wasn’t the only one who let the events of nine months ago affect life. The people who care about me were changed, too. We were all more aware of how dangerous life could become.
I refused to let fear control me, but I knew it was best to be cautious. I planned to go to D.C. for just one day, when I didn’t have training. I would drive down, go to Jimmy’s law firm and be back before anyone even realized I had left.
I left my house that m
orning at six, and planned to be in D.C. by eight-thirty. That would give me all day to track down my mystery caller. If I left the city at six in the evening I would be home by eight-thirty. Not a bad day.
I don’t have a carry license in D.C. so I couldn’t take my .38. Instead I took a Taser, a defense baton, and pepper spray. I also took Max with me. I wasn’t leaving my house without some defense. I packed up Bertha, got onto 295 and headed south with Max in the seat beside me and Bon Jovi blaring on the radio.
______
Traffic at Baltimore and outside of D.C. pushed my timeline back. It was nine thirty when I was able to park in a garage. From there I could walk toward the law firm, Johnson, Lewes, and Ferguson. I was dressed in some of my new clothes: skinny black pants and loose fitting blue silk blouse with a black bomber sweater and black ankle boots. I was going for casual professional.
I am not exactly proud of what I have to confess next. I had Max registered as an emotional support dog. He had a cute little vest. I guess technically he was my emotional support, but I feel like I took advantage of my therapist in order to be allowed to take him everywhere with me.
My plan was fairly straight forward. I had called last week and made an appointment with Lori Claret for eleven a.m. I planned to ask the receptionist and Ms. Claret’s assistant some questions. That was pretty much it. My plan wasn’t really a five star plan. Since I had an hour before my appointment at the law firm I wanted to retrace Jimmy’s steps from his last day, maybe ask some people at the surrounding businesses if they recognized his picture. It was a long shot, but I hoped someone had noticed James Barnes, that final day.
Once we were walking along the street I was glad for my thick pea coat, warm hat, scarf, and gloves. The wind was bitter, so cold it felt like icy knives slicing through my coat. The exterior of Johnson, Lewes, and Ferguson was impressive, modern steel and glass. There were a few sidewalk venders scattered in front. Jimmy usually drove to work so he would only be seen walking from the garage to the firm. Most likely, Jimmy also walked from his office to local places for lunch or errands. I planned to show his picture to the local vendors around the law firm and hope I got lucky.
I started with the hot dog vender just across the street. The vendor was a balding, sweaty man with a beer belly that hung over the edge of his pants. He told me to call him Lou. I’m not sure how he was sweating in this cold, but he was. He barely looked at the picture of Jimmy that I held in front of him. He was too busy dishing up hot dogs. Who would think people would be buying hot dogs at ten in the morning?
I tried two other vendors without success. By then it was closer to eleven and I wanted to get ready for my meeting with Lori Claret. I walked into the firm, Max at my side in his service dog vest.
When I entered Johnson, Lewes, and Ferguson a pretty brunette receptionist in her early twenties greeted me. Aren’t they always pretty receptionists? I wanted to ask her some questions, but based on her age, she wasn’t working here when Jimmy went missing. I saved my questions. She directed me to a waiting area on the fourth floor.
Lori Claret was a junior partner. She shared an Administrative Assistant with two other junior partners. The assistant’s desk was near where I was sitting. She looked exactly like my idea of a sweet kindergarten teacher. She was older with hair that had gone comfortably gray, and a face that looked like it smiled often. She was dressed in sensible shoes, a knee length skirt, and a soft pink sweater. I kind of wanted to hug her.
I put my nicest smile on my face and approached her desk.
“Hello.”
“Hi, dear.” Dear – seriously, how sweet is that? I wanted to take this woman home with me. I bet she makes good cookies.
“This may seem a bit strange,” I explained, “but an old friend of mine worked here. I wondered if you might know him?”
“Well, I have been here for several years. I know most everyone. What’s his name?”
“Jimmy Barnes? We went to college together. I think he was in estate law.”
“Jimmy Barnes.” She thought for a moment. “We had a James Barnes here? Could that be the same person?”
I felt my heart kick up a beat in my chest as I pasted an even bigger smile on my face. “I think I am the only person to call him, Jimmy. Does he still work here?”
Her face fell. “Oh no, you don’t know. I guess it was about five years ago. He went out for lunch and never came back.”
I let shock and horror wash over my face. It wasn’t hard, I found the idea of a missing father pretty horrifying. “Oh no, what happened?”
“No one knows. He just never came back. It’s just awful. He was married with two kids. Most people think he ran away, but Mr. Barnes always seemed like such a good family man. He would always have stories and pictures of the kids to share with me.”
I worked to keep my expression looking dismayed. It wasn’t too hard. Excitement over this new information was tempered by my horror at what might have happened to Jimmy.
“I never thought he ran,” the sweet assistant declared. “He probably was mugged or something awful like that. It’s just such a shame; rumor was he was going to be promoted soon. The senior partners liked him. He had just gotten a big case. So awful.” She paused and looked at me. “Oh dear, I’ve upset you. I’m so sorry. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you a glass of water.” She ushered me back to a chair and then bustled out of the waiting area. When she brought me a glass of water she said her name was Norma and asked if I needed anything else. My only thought was finding out what his “big case” involved. I saved my questions. Norma had been helpful enough.
Fifteen minutes later Lori Claret appeared at the door of her office and welcomed me in. When I set up the appointment my story was that I was looking for estate planning advice related to caring for my grandmother. When we sat down, Lori assumed her position behind a big oak desk. I sat before it in a plush chair with Max sitting at my side. I continued the pretense I began with her secretary.
“I’m sorry if I seem a bit out of it,” I told Lori, allowing the horror and shock to show on my face. “I just found out that an old friend of mine who used to work here is missing. I can’t seem to wrap my brain around it.”
Lori was suitably sympathetic. “Why that’s awful. Can I get you anything?”
“No, thank you. I don’t know. Did you know him? Jimmy, uh – James Barnes?”
She sat back in her seat and gave me a long look. When she replied her tone was tense. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I ever met anyone by that name. I can see this has been very distressing to you. Would you like to take a rain check on our meeting?”
She had me ushered out of her office before I could even come up with a suitable reply. It was obvious she didn’t want to speak with me.
While Max and I waited for the elevator, I thought over the new information. The big case Norma mentioned and Lori’s desire to get me out of her office pinged deep inside, pieces of a puzzle I couldn’t make fit. It was important.
I wasn’t ready to leave the building. There was one more person I wanted to talk to. If Lori wasn’t my mystery caller, and I hadn’t ruled her out yet, then Cindy Carter was. When I got downstairs to the main desk in the lobby I asked the receptionist if Cindy Carter was available. She placed a call and then politely asked me to wait.
Max and I made our way over to the plush chairs and got comfortable. Soon I watched a middle aged woman exit the elevator from the upstairs offices, stop at the front desk to speak to the receptionist, and then walk through the lobby. She was tall with reddish brown hair and green eyes. Her age was in that window between mid-forties and mid-fifties where you don’t want to guess wrong. She was dressed in simple navy pants and a soft gray sweater. I stood up and walked to her.
This time I went with the truth.
“Hi Cindy. My name is Charlotte Marshall.”
A soon as I said my name Cindy froze and I knew. She was the one who called me. I feigned innocence and smiled as if we were old
friends.
“Sorry for stopping by without notice, but I hoped we could go catch lunch or coffee. Can you take a few minutes?”
Cindy’s face was etched in stone. She wanted to tell me to leave, but she was afraid of making a scene by refusing me. I had left her with little choice but to join me. I didn’t regret that I had cornered her.
“I’m buying.” I said with a grin as though we were friends with a long history of fighting over which of us would pay.
Cindy’s entire body twitched once before she seemed to settle. “Let me just grab my coat and we can get some coffee. I’ll be back in a few.”
Five minutes later Max, Cindy, and I left the law firm and walked down the sidewalk to a small café near the corner. We didn’t discuss anything as we walked. Her lips were tight and her expression uncomfortable. I don’t know what she was thinking, but my mind was racing. I was trying to decide exactly what I wanted to ask her.
I ordered some tea and Cindy asked for a cup of coffee before we took a seat at a table in the corner. I sat with my back to the wall, facing Cindy.
Silence can sometimes be incredibly effective and this was one of those times. I wasn’t purposefully silent. I was trying to figure out what to say, but the silence worked to my benefit. While I searched for the right words. Cindy started talking.
“You shouldn’t be here. There’s nothing to find out.”
Another pause. She looked at me with a tense expression, toyed with her coffee, but never drank any of it. I took a sip of my tea trying to find the right opening question.
“Look, I don’t know anything,” her voice was strained. “Mr. Barnes ran away or he got mugged, but I don’t know anything.”
This time I purposefully stayed silent. It had worked so far.
“Okay, look, Mr. Barnes was working on a case and the senior partners weren’t happy with his progress. That’s all I know.”
The case. It had to be the case. “What case was he working on?”
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