“Sure. I'll tell her.”
It was a somber group that said their farewells the next morning. There were hugs and handshakes all the way around. Tyrone took off first to follow Keisha's ambulance home. Amy and Paul left for home with Jeremiah close behind. Fonnie gave a big sigh as Brian pointed his car toward Groverton. “It'll be so good to be home again.”
Life in Groverton was soon back to normal. Keisha was released from the hospital after a few days and went back to her classes. Tyrone took his SAT and made great scores, especially on the verbal section. Brian was glad to get back to his own police district. And twice a week Fonnie caught the Senior Services bus to the “Y” to hone her swimming ability. One never knows, she thought, when it would come in handy.
Two gentlemen from Virginia also had the little town of Groverton, North Carolina on their minds. Stephon made frequent weekend visits, while Jeremiah kept the phone lines hot.
Amy and Paul's newly wedded bliss was snarled for a couple of weeks while investigators pieced together what Edgar had called his “investments.” They drove down to tell Fonnie and Brian what they'd learned.
Fonnie could tell it bothered Paul to talk about the illegal activities of his senior partner, a man whom he had admired and respected. “It seems,” Paul said, “that while Buzz and I were defending the underdogs against giant corporations, Edgar was feeding those same corporations material they could use in defense of their negligent or criminal actions. Leaking to their lawyers ahead of time what type of evidence we had, giving them an opportunity to manufacture counter- evidence. They were paying him the big bucks that should have gone to our plaintiffs.”
Brian listened attentively. “So Edgar was working against his own partners?”
“Not only us,” Paul said, “but other trial lawyers as well. Here's where his networking really paid off. He played golf and partied with most of the other attorneys in town, as Buzz and I did. After I met Amy, though, I kind of dropped out of that scene. I preferred spending my time with her.”
Fonnie noticed Amy moving a little closer to her new husband. They're a lovely couple, Fonnie thought for the thousandth time.
“As you know,” Paul said, “Buzz was a hard worker, but he was also a real party animal. So he and Edgar spent a lot of time playing, drinking, and discussing cases with other attorneys. There was no actual disclosure of confidential information, but a smart person could figure out the particulars—and Edgar was smart. Then he sold those particulars to companies being sued.
“I don't know when Buzz started getting suspicious. He never said anything to me about it, but a few months ago he seemed worried about something. Our firm's income had dropped dramatically in the past year, and I thought perhaps he was troubled about finances, although we still were making adequate money. In retrospect, I think the Klondike case was the one that started Buzz investigating.”
“I remember “Klondike” was one of the names on the paper Keisha found,” Fonnie said. “Who was Klondike?”
“Klondike is a company that manufactures medical equipment. A man died from a defective pacemaker made by them. Buzz was prosecuting them on behalf of the widow. When the case went to court, their attorneys were able to rebuff every bit of his evidence. The widow received a token award rather than the millions due her. That must have set off alarm bells in Buzz's brain and he started looking back at other cases. He either said something to Edgar or Edgar realized what he was doing. I guess that's when Buzz's death warrant was signed.”
Fonnie leaned forward in her chair. Something was being left out that made her uncomfortable. “But,” she said, “what about Trentstone Estates? How did they come in?”
Amy answered the question. “That worried me too until I saw the original paper that Buzz had written. The police at Beacon Hill Beach found it hidden in his apartment at the motel and sent a copy to Paul. On it Buzz had written Trentstone, followed by question marks. Since Keisha had heard of the Trentstone Estates, she added the word ‘estates’ when she duplicated the list. Actually, it had nothing to do with the development. Later Paul remembered a case involving a company whose CEO was named Trentstone. He looked it up and sure enough, the plaintiff lost that one too.”
Brian had sat quietly through the recitation of facts, his face drawn, his eyes sad. When Amy paused, he asked Paul the question that must have been on his mind the whole while. “How did Melanie get involved?”
“The police told us that Lula knew Edgar and Melanie were having an affair. Melanie used her visits to her Uncle Hank as an excuse to see Edgar, and many times when Edgar was supposed to be at Beacon Hill he was actually in Miami. It seems that Melanie liked the high life, but her nurses' salary didn't quite cover it, so Edgar supplemented her income. Apparently when Edgar decided he had to get rid of Buzz, he called on Melanie for help. It was supposed to look like a natural death, which is why she made him sick before giving the fatal dose.”
“But she ran to his side to help him when he collapsed,” Brian said. “We both did.”
Fonnie's mind again pictured the two young people rushing to Buzz's side. Melanie seemed so competent as she evaluated her patient's condition, checked his pulse, made a mouth sweep with her finger to be sure his airway was clear. But what had she done just prior to that? Fonnie struggled to remember and then the picture came. The young nurse, bent over the stricken man, was fiddling with the ring on her left hand. Her right index finger scraped a substance from the ring before doing the mouth sweep. “Oh, God,” Fonnie gasped. “The police said she had more of the drug in the ring. While pretending to help him, she gave him a final dose to be sure he wouldn't survive.”
Brian looked like he was about to be sick. “And that's why Edgar insisted Melanie ride in the ambulance—to be sure Buzz didn't come to.”
“And why Edgar opposed the autopsy,” Fonnie added. “Melanie must have thought that since it was a small hospital, they wouldn't do a complete autopsy. I guess she learned that small doesn't mean sloppy.”
Brian shook his head as if coming out of a bad dream. “So, Paul, where does that leave your law firm?”
“I'm bringing in a couple of bright, young fellows. We'll survive and do well again. And after Edgar's criminal trial, I plan to institute a civil one and go after his assets. That way, we may be able to compensate some of his victims.”
“I know it's silly,” Fonnie said, “but I can't help but worry about poor Lula. Where is all this going to leave her?”
“As a matter of fact,” Amy said, “I had lunch with her last week. She sent her love to you, Mom. I should have mentioned her sooner, but all this other stuff got in the way.”
“Never mind that. How is she coping?”
“Very well. Lula's a tough cookie. She's going to be penniless, but that's the way she wants it.”
Fonnie scowled. “I don't understand.”
“She's filing for divorce. Since she had signed a pre-nuptial agreement, even if Edgar ends up with any assets, she wouldn't get them. She wants to start over—and she wants to do it on her own.”
“Good for her. But,” Fonnie added, “what can she do? Did she ever hold a paying job?”
“Her last job was hostess in a night club. That's where Edgar met her. Now she has her sights on something a little different.”
When Amy didn't say anything else, Fonnie exploded with, “What?”
“Real estate. She's going to take a realty course and get her license. And then....” Amy let her voice trail off.
Fonnie threw her hands in the air. “And then what? Come on, out with it.”
“Then she's going to work for our agency. I think she'll make a great realtor.”
Epilogue
Fonnie drank the last of her breakfast coffee while lolling in her porch swing. She loved to get out of the house in the early morning, listen to the birds—some twittering, some warbling, and some just chattering. Brian had left for work and she was alone to enjoy her domain. Yesterday Tyrone had mowed her yar
d, and now each blade of grass stood upright and proud covered with morning dew. The weather girl predicted another scorcher for today—typical for mid-July in the Carolinas, and it was already beginning to heat up. Fonnie took a deep breath, caught the scent of the honeysuckles growing up on the side of her house, and ambled indoors.
She sat down at her computer to check her e-mail. She had two messages. She read Amy's first. Morning, Mom, We had Clara and Tony over for dinner last night. Clara is beginning to look like she swallowed a watermelon, and Tony keeps talking about the room they're redoing for the nursery. Paul is trying to decide if he wants to be called Grandpa or Paw Paw. I rather like Nana for myself. Love and kisses, Amy.
The other message was from Jeremiah. After his many telephone calls, he decided e-mail might be a better way to communicate. They wrote back and forth nearly every day—silly, inconsequential notes, but through them they had come to know each other very well. Then his weekend visit last month had really been delightful. He'd approved of her new hair color Bright Rose Red. They'd talked and laughed and smooched a little. They didn't try to define their relationship. Fonnie knew they would always remain good friends, and if something else developed that would be fine. She eagerly clicked onto his letter. Greetings from God's Country, Just had a marvelous idea. How about us taking a trip together? Maybe spend a few days in Williamsburg? Visit with some of our ancestors? Think about it. Have a great day. J.
Fonnie thought about it. A trip would be nice. Anywhere except to the beach. But first things first. She reread the invitation she'd received last week. She rubbed her fingers over the soft-textured vellum, traced the embossed names, Keisha Louise Riggs and Stephon Dewey Weber. What a lovely couple. Fonnie was so excited about the upcoming wedding, she almost felt like the mother of the bride again.
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