Sanctuary (Murrells Inlet Miracles Book 1)

by Larsen, Laurie

  The tension on the floor crackled like static electricity. Nora felt it immediately. Lawyers filled the hallway, lingering in their office doorways, peering down the hall, murmuring.

  She stood and stared for a moment, then stepped to the receptionist’s desk. “Pam? What’s going on?”

  The young woman squeezed her lips tight, then said in a deliberately low tone, “The police are here. They’re in Mr. Gibson’s office.”

  Nora frowned and her head swiveled to Henry’s office, the same direction everyone else was turning. Whisper layered upon whisper built to a crescendo.

  But … this was a law firm. The presence of police officers was nothing new. Although they didn’t generally engage in criminal defense, it wasn’t unheard of for law enforcement officers to visit.

  “What are they here for?” she asked Pam, still gazing over the heads of those gathered outside the corner office, the one with the prime northeast view of the city.

  “Keep this to yourself,” she said, a meaningful nod toward the mass of firm employees, “but they’ve come to interrogate him. Evidently the FBI has been doing a covert investigation for some time.”

  A shiver danced down Nora’s spine. She didn’t like the sound of that. How could Pam possibly verify this information? Was it gossip? Rumor? Or could it have a remnant of truth? “What are they investigating?”

  “All I heard was ‘unethical business practices’ before Mr. Gibson escorted them back to his office.”

  A fierce wave of loyalty swept over her. Henry Gibson had always supported her, had been one of her first supporters. She wouldn’t be here now, as one of the managing partners of a large law firm, if he hadn’t seen something in her during their initial interview. She owed her support to Henry Gibson, for no other reason than that he supported her. Always had. She had, of course, earned all the success she’d achieved, but Henry had always been behind her … giving her encouragement, doling out the opportunities for her to succeed. She made up her mind right then and there that she would stand firmly beside Henry in whatever it was he was going through right now.

  “Where’s Tony?” Tony Monroe, Henry’s long-term partner before they’d added Nora as a third partner two years ago. “Is he in there as well?”

  “No, he’s in Jamaica.”

  Nora absorbed that bit of news. “Vacation?”

  Pam nodded. “It’s been planned for a while now.”

  It was up to her to show some leadership around here. Their longest-standing partner had suddenly become an office spectacle and she, for one, would not stand for it. Henry deserved better. “Thanks Pam,” she said over her shoulder as she strode toward the firm’s long hallways of offices. “Back to work,” she announced in a firm tone. “Come on now, I believe we have work to do. Let’s go. Nothing to see here.” The lingering lawyers and paralegals acknowledged her with nods, and with last glances down the hallway, they turned back into their offices.

  One young woman, who had only joined the firm three months ago, stayed put, her face covered with an expression of fear. Nora passed her and caught her glance, frowning. “Ellen? What’s wrong?”

  “Is it true?”

  “Is what true?”

  “They’re going to arrest Mr. Gibson for illegal activity?”

  Nora shook her head. The rumor mill was working overtime today. “Of course not. Why would you think that? Whatever the FBI thinks they know, I’m confident their investigation will prove without a shadow of a doubt that Gibson, Monroe and Ramsey is completely innocent of any wrongdoing.” It probably sounded like the party line, but she said it with conviction because she wanted to convince this young professional. But also because she believed it with every bit of her strength.

  Ellen’s gaze rested on Nora’s face tentatively, then she nodded, and said, “Okay, if you say so, Ms. Ramsey.”

  Nora patted the woman’s shoulder. “No worries. We’ll get to the bottom of this and take care of it.”

  Ellen nodded again and disappeared into her office. Ellen wasn’t necessarily convinced by her strong words, but at least she was willing to follow her instructions. Now, she needed to make sure she could back up her words to the staff. She strode to Henry’s closed office door and rapped on it. Not waiting for a response, she opened the door, walked in and closed it behind her.

  The look in Henry’s eyes reached out and grabbed her first. Fear. Shame. Then, like a movie director pulling the view back wide, she observed the rest of the scene. Two plainclothes police officers, shoving Henry’s wrists behind his back so they could snap metal cuffs on them. Three black suited men watching and directing.

  “Hey now, stop that. Stop that right now.” Her voice was high, alarmed, on the verge of frantic. She’d have to concentrate on improving that if she wanted to come across as the one in charge.

  The officers didn’t change their course of action, but the suited men, FBI, she assumed, took note of her. “Stay out of our way. We have a warrant for his arrest.” One of them produced it and held it out to her.

  Her vision started to swim but she forced herself to stay on task. “I am Mr. Gibson’s attorney and I’ll need some time to review this warrant.”

  “Take all the time you need. But we’re taking him with us now.”

  “Oh no, you won’t --”

  “Yes. It’s all in the document. We’ve been investigating for a while now, and we shone a bright light on your senior partner here. We have a variety of offenses. Enough for the judge to approve this arrest. If you want to talk to someone, talk to him.”

  Never in her years in the law had she ever faced a scenario like this. She’d always specialized in real estate and taxation law. She could whip up a multi-million dollar sales agreement document in minutes flat. She could negotiate on behalf of her client and move through the mountain of paperwork required to establish a non-profit or a LLC operation. But legally halting the arrest of her esteemed senior partner due to an FBI investigation into ethics charges? She didn’t have a clue.

  But she knew enough from lawyering for the majority of her life, presentation was everything.

  “I will do that, absolutely. You can bet that I will not only speak to the judge about this undeserved arrest, but I will also lodge a formal complaint about how these officers are treating Mr. Gibson like a common criminal instead of with the respect he deserves as the senior partner of a major law firm.”

  She swung her head to meet Gibson’s gaze. But far from being defiant and indignant about this monstrous miscarriage of justice, he looked scared. In fact, he held her eyes long enough to shake his head, then dipped his head to stare down at his toes. The officers began to push him brusquely toward the door.

  “Wait. This is ridiculous. This is wrong. You have to at least give me a few moments of privacy with my client before you lead him out of here. I insist.”

  The black suiters looked at each other, consulting through the raising of eyebrows, until one of them said, “Three minutes behind closed doors. Then we’re coming back in here to take him in.”

  “Knock yourselves out,” Nora murmured under her breath as she watched all the unwanted guests file out, single-file into the hallway, then close the door. She expelled a shaky breath, took in a lungful for cleansing, and walked over to Henry.

  His hands still cuffed behind his back, he was trembling, beaten. She reached out and placed her hands on both his biceps, squeezing tenderly. He jerked at the gesture but she succeeded in getting his full gaze upon her. “Henry. We will fight this. Do not fear. I have no idea what they think they found, but this is a mistake. Do you hear me?”

  He squinted, his forehead creasing. With horror, Nora saw his eyes filling. Without thinking, he attempted to wipe his eye with a finger, his cuffs bringing that idea to a sudden end. Nora frantically searched his desk for a tissue box, found one and returned to him. Then, it dawned on her the predicament she’d put herself in. Her role model, her mentor, her work hero stood handcuffed in front of her, tears strea
ming down his face, and she had no choice but to carefully wipe the wetness from his eyes.

  In the twenty-three years she’d worked at his firm, she couldn’t recall a single time she’d done anything so intimate as to wipe his eyes of tears. Without letting herself dwell on the reality, she did it. Besides, she only had three minutes before the goons burst back into the room, and she needed to talk to Henry to find out what they were up against.

  He nodded his thanks for her kindness.

  “Henry, tell me as much as you can. I need to know it in order to defend you.”

  “I’ve been in this business a long time,” he said softly, so softly she had to lean forward to hear him. “I’ve never done it before but this time, I let it get away from me. I made some bad decisions and I … I carried them out.” His voice wavered and the tears popped out again. She reached up with the soggy tissue and wiped his cheek.

  “What decisions are you referring to?”

  He shook his head sadly. “Added incentives that were mutually beneficial to us and our clients. But weren’t … quite … in keeping with the letter of the law. For the sellers.”

  Her head felt like a stone had landed on it. A sudden jab of pain, then an intense pounding. “Henry, are you saying --”

  “God help me, Nora.”

  “Henry, please, throw me a bone here.”

  Henry shook his head. “They confiscated my computer, all my files. They got everything and I didn’t even realize -- ”

  The door swung open and one of the black suits announced, “Time’s up, Ms. Ramsey. We’re taking your client into custody.”

  Everything inside her screamed to protest. To ask for a delay, a continuance. To allow her time to review everything, find out what they saw, what they think they saw. To prove them wrong and keep Henry out of, God forbid, jail. But Henry was resigned, dejected. He’d as much as admitted to her that he was guilty.

  What would become of him? Of them all? What happened to a law firm and everyone associated with it when one of the senior partners was arrested for cheating?

  They grabbed Henry by the arms and shoulders, pushed him out the door and all she could say in passing was, “I’ll defend you, Henry. Don’t lose hope. I’ll be in touch.”

  She couldn’t stop Henry from going to jail. She couldn’t stop the police from manhandling him down the hallway. And she couldn’t stop the associates from ogling the proceedings and murmuring among themselves.

  She couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

  The next three days were torturous for Nora. She filed the request with the FBI to share the evidence that led to Henry’s arrest. As his defense attorney, she was entitled to it. They did not have the option to deny her request. But they could delay as long as possible, while forcing Henry to rot in custody until his court date was set.

  The jail downtown where they were holding Henry always depressed Nora. The paint was a robin’s egg blue color that probably looked fresh in the 80’s but had taken on the dinge of decades of human sweat and cigarette smoke. Henry didn’t belong here. She came armed with notepads, hoping he’d open up to her. They’d brainstorm on the FBI’s findings, which, she was sure, had been blown out of proportion. All she needed was to get her hands on the files, pore through them, and figure out where the FBI had gone wrong. Then, she could form a defense for him.

  She sat on the metal chair in the visiting room and folded her hands on the table. She waited for Henry to be delivered to her. When the door opened, she couldn’t help the shock that ran through her chest, and most likely, crossed her face. Fortunately, he wasn’t looking at her. He shuffled in, dressed in an orange jumpsuit, his hands cuffed behind him, escorted by a prison guard. His eyes were fixed on his feet. The guard maneuvered him into the facing folding chair and he carefully lowered himself in, the action requiring all his attention.

  Only when the guard nodded at Nora and walked away, leaving the two of them alone at the table, did Henry meet eyes with her. “Hello, Henry,” she said. It was a lame greeting, but she had no idea what else to say while visiting her boss in prison.

  “Nora,” he mumbled.

  Best to start with the basics of human life, she figured. “How are they treating you here? Enough to eat? A decent place to sleep? Shower?”

  “It’s prison, Nora.”

  “Yes, I realize that. But I want to make sure that they’re treating you well, within your rights.”

  He shook his head and sighed. “It’s fine.”

  “Henry, I’ve made the request for your files from the FBI. They haven’t complied yet but as soon as they do you can be sure that I’ll be going through them with a fine-tooth comb. We will fight this … we ….”

  Henry shook his head tiredly. “No, Nora. I don’t want you to represent me.”

  “It’s no trouble at all. I don’t mind. Besides, I’ve about wrapped up the Samson Merger so I have the time to focus.”

  “No.” He stopped speaking to cough which expanded into a long, uncomfortable spell. Nora wondered what she could do to help him and short of getting up and pounding him on the back, she came up with nothing. Finally finished, he continued, “I do have one thing I need you to do.”

  She leaned forward. “Anything. What is it, Henry?”

  “I want you to retain me a defense attorney. A criminal defense attorney.”

  “We have a firm full of the best attorneys …”

  “No. I need someone who’s experienced in the courtroom. Someone who has defended professionals before. I’ve got some names. Write these down and call them today.”

  “Of course.” She pulled out her legal pad and jotted down the names of a half dozen attorneys Henry rattled off. She tried to fight off a stab of emotion that she didn’t quite understand. Was she insulted that he didn’t want her to defend him? Sad that he didn’t have faith in her to handle it? But no, honestly he was right. She wasn’t a defense attorney, that wasn’t her specialty. This was his life, his career, his future. He needed the best out there to ensure an acquittal.

  After she’d documented all the attorneys’ names that Henry gave her she said, “What can you tell me about your case? What did the FBI find?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not going to discuss this with you, Nora. Now please, go back to the office.” He stood and limped to the door and pushed a button on the wall. When the door opened, he disappeared through it without looking back.

  Nora remained motionless, watching the door. Tears stung in her eyes, but she couldn’t even move to wipe them. She was paralyzed. This must be what shock was like. As much as her mind told her to get up and move, her body ignored the commands.

  Within a few minutes, she gathered herself together, got up and left.

  A few hours later, she had placed calls with all the attorneys on her list, and she’d spoken to two personally. She’d described what little she knew about the case (just the facts, ma’am) and they had given her their rates. Henry hadn’t talked to her about rates, so she assumed that all the rates were acceptable. Henry wouldn’t let money stand in the way of a successful defense.

  While waiting for a few more call-backs, she pulled out some of her closing paperwork for the Samson Merger. She might as well keep busy with familiar work. About an hour later, her phone rang. “Nora Ramsey.”

  “Good afternoon, Ms. Ramsey. It’s Mark Becker from Becker and Associates, Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.”

  “Okay.” All the attorneys she’d left messages for were local, here in Philadelphia.

  “I’m the attorney handling your aunt, Edith Harbaugh’s estate.”

  She shook her head. “What did you say?”

  “Uh, I’m handling the will disposition of your aunt’s estate. You received our letter …?”

  “Yes.” She stood and walked away from her desk, forcing her mind to concentrate on something other than Henry.

  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Your aunt left you her proper
ty in Murrells Inlet, South Carolina. A prime ten-acre property that faces the salt marsh tributary. Farm property mainly used for raising livestock, a large garden, a barn and a big home.”

  As he spoke, her mind’s eye offered a scenic view of the land he was describing. The sandy beach along the shores of the water that her aunt had always called, “Gateway to the Atlantic Ocean.” It was safe for swimming, especially for a little girl who didn’t want to go out too deep. She remembered jumping into the passenger seat of Aunt Edie’s Jeep and bouncing over the grassy acres – no roads – to reach the beach, where they piled out with their beach chairs, towels, sunscreen, and cooler to while away the hours. Swimming, beanbag games, reading and relaxing were favorite pastimes, as well as walking as far as possible in one direction on the sandy beach before turning and seeing if they could make it back to their chairs before exhaustion hit them.

  And the barn. The place where Nora discovered her love for horses. Aunt Edie had several of them during those summers Nora would visit. One pinto quarter horse with multi-colored splotches across her back and haunches. A solid black half-thoroughbred who loved to stretch her legs and run. And an old palomino, a beautiful golden, gentle as she could imagine an animal being. She spent hot, sweaty hours taking care of all of them. Hauling their grains around in big black rubber buckets, dumping it into the feed bins in their stalls. Forking a pile of hay over their stall walls, then filling the troughs with clean, fresh water.

  And the house. Well, mansion really. The place she and Aunt Edie would collapse at the end of a long, busy day outside. Aunt Edie was always renovating. Fixing up one room at a time, and never staying on schedule. But she always had a plan in her mind, and she always described it in vivid detail to Nora. They’d lie on pillows on the floor of the living room, devoutly ignoring the peeling wallpaper, the sagging ceiling and scrappy carpet while Aunt Edie described the luxurious room it would be once she’d executed on her plan of new color scheme, plush carpets and furniture.