Chapter 17
Deputy McCracken called first thing in the morning to let me know they weren’t going to serve the arrest warrant on Nana until that afternoon.
So I went into the office dressed for war. My killer red suit, the one with the matching jacket and pencil skirt, meant business. I paired it with a simple white shell and black heels. I was ready.
Sometimes a woman had to dress for battle.
When I walked into the office, Oliver was already on the phone, gesturing like whatever conversation he was having had gone three rounds too long. I set a latte on his desk, gave him a quick nod, and kept moving.
He gave me a grateful thumbs-up without missing a word to whoever was on the other end of the line.
I stepped inside Clark’s open doorway. He looked up from a stack of files, his easy expression in place. No matter what time I arrived, he always managed to beat me to work. “Hey.” I held out his drink.
“Hi,” he replied, taking it from me.
“I meant to talk to you yesterday.” I dropped into the chair across from his desk. “Brooke Walton is also dating Brad Backleboff over in Silverville and has been for a while.”
Clark’s eyebrows lifted. “Yeah, I caught that last night. I also read it in the paper, but you and I hadn’t had time to talk about it.”
Relief loosened the tight spot between my shoulders. “Oh, good. I thought maybe I screwed up by not getting ahold of you.”
He shook his head. “No, I didn’t know who Brooke was dating, but she wouldn’t go exclusive.”
I tilted my head. “Are you still going to see her?”
“Probably not.”
“Good. I have several cousins—”
Clark laughed and held up a hand. “No, thank you.”
I crossed my arms. “Come on, Clark. They’re not all like me. What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” he said with that grin that made him look even younger than his twenty-eight or so years. “But I figure I’m already too tangled up with your family. If I dated a cousin and it didn’t work out, Thanksgiving would be awkward.”
How sweet. “I hope this thing with Brooke didn’t hurt you.”
“It didn’t hurt me,” he said easily. “Really, I’m fine.”
I nodded, satisfied. “Good.”
“How about you?” He took a drink of his latte. “You’re the one whose Nana is about to be arrested.”
“True,” I said, picking up my coffee. “I’ll head over to Silverville around noon.”
Clark’s expression tightened. “That’s unbelievable. Is there anything I can do?”
It never hurt to plan ahead. “If either this or the civil case gets to trial, I’ll definitely need a second chair.”
He sat forward, already game. “You’ve got it. They won’t know what hit them.”
I smiled. “Thanks. You have any interesting cases going on?”
He shuffled a few papers before answering. “Got a new timber trespass case up in Bonner County with two neighbors at each other’s throats. Also some new CCNRs for the subdivision your sister’s selling.”
“That sounds like fun,” I said. “I don’t know much about it, but that area overlooking Lilac Lake will sell well.”
“It certainly looks like it,” he said. “The CCNRs are going to be strict. We don’t want any bright purple houses, or even white ones, that mess with the natural beauty.”
I leaned back in the chair. “I’m so glad to hear that. Did you see the jackass who put a white house up on Canfield Mountain?”
Canfield Mountain overlooked the entire Timber City, and someone had actually built a blinding white house smack in the middle of it. We’d all grown up looking at trees, and now there was a glowing beacon of bad taste cutting through the green.
Clark grimaced. “Yeah, I saw it. Jerks. Also, thanks for the latte.”
His phone buzzed on the desk.
“Anytime.” I stood and slipped out of his office and walked down the hall to Pauley’s. He was typing at his computer, wearing a red-and-white striped shirt and tan dockers. “Pauley, I brought you a steamed milk if you’d like it.”
He looked up, his brown hair perfectly in place. “I would like it.”
Taking that as permission, I walked in and placed the cup on his desk. “Do you have any news for me?”
He reached for the latte and held it in one hand. “I do,” he said. “Actually, a few things.”
I took a sip of my chai latte with its almond milk, a little sweet. I always went for the sweetness. “Hit me.”
Pauley grabbed his notepad. “Gloria Walton grew up in Silverville, owns an optometry business with her husband, and has been a Lady Elk forever. She played softball and volleyball when she was young, got married at twenty, still married now. There’s really nothing remarkable about her that would make me think she’d go after our Nana this way. ”
“That’s what I’ve got too,” I said. “What about her niece, Brooke?”
He flipped a page. “Brooke Walton. Grew up in Illinois, moved to Montana, has a degree in psychology, and is considering opening a practice in Silverville.”
“Really?” I drank deeper. “I didn’t know that.”
Pauley nodded. “Yes. She’s never been married and she has a clean criminal record.”
I raised a brow. “You know she dated Clark?”
“Yes, I did know that,” he said evenly, gaze on his notes.
I shifted my stance. “What about Zippy O’Bellini?”
“Same as before,” Pauley said. “He’s an attorney, very successful. He has worked on several high-profile criminal cases where he defended his clients well, and he’s got a solid civil practice. Personal injury, defamation, slander. He wins, Anna. He’s got a great record.”
I took another drink. “Is he married?”
“He became divorced ten years ago. As far as I could find, he has two kids, both living in Missouri near his ex-wife.”
“How old are they?” I asked.
Pauley looked up. “Old.” Then he grimaced. “I mean, forties and fifties. They all live in the same town.”
I frowned. “You’re telling me there’s no dirt on him?”
“None. Absolutely nothing I could find.”
“Well, that’s too bad. What about Cormac?”
Pauley put down the notebook. “Again, nothing,” he said, frustration creeping into his tone. “I could find nothing about him. You might need to ask Aiden to run a government check.”
“Seriously?” Although I’d already done just that.
“Seriously. There’s no social media, no mentions anywhere. I even checked newspaper archives and the databases I can legally access.”
This wasn’t looking good. “That’s odd.”
“Yeah.”
I turned toward the hall. “Okay, well, thanks, Pauley. Oh, wait—what about Brad Backleboff?”
Pauley shook his head. “Nothing new or interesting. Just Silverville gossip.”
“Great,” I muttered, heading back to my office. I sat at my desk, booted up my computer, and answered a few client emails before my phone buzzed. “Hey, Oliver,” I said, picking up.
“Thank you for the latte,” he said. “Did you have the extra protein powder added?”
“I certainly did.” He was taking his workouts seriously these days.
He cleared his throat. “Great. I need to talk to you later today.”
“All right, I’ll try to catch you. I’m heading out for Silverville around lunchtime. For now, what’s up?”
His tone turned more formal. “You have someone here to see you.”
“All right. Bring ‘em back.”
A moment later, Oliver opened the door, and Henry Johnston walked in wearing an ill-fitting blue suit that had seen better decades. The green-and-white striped tie might’ve been a leftover from the seventies.
“Henry?” I asked.
“Yes. Hi. I was hoping we could speak.”
I glanced at Oliver, who just shrugged. “Sure. Take a seat,” I finally said.
Henry stepped farther inside, his hair slicked back just like last time. At least he’d shaved, though a few small dots of blood spotted his chin where a razor had gotten too ambitious.
“What can I do for you?” I asked.
Henry sat in the chair across from me and smiled like we were about to discuss something pleasant. “I’ve always thought you were very pretty.”
“I appreciate that,” I replied, wondering what the heck he was doing in my office.
“I was hoping you’d like to attend the St. Paddy’s Day parade in Silverville with me on Saturday.”
I blinked. “As a date?”
“Yes, as a date,” he said, nodding earnestly. “I know it took me a while to find my footing in life, but I’ve got a good job now, and I think a chick like you might be interested.”
Did he just call me a chick? “That’s a kind offer, Henry,” I said carefully. My gaze drifted down to his white socks peeking out beneath black pants that were too short.
“What do you say?” he asked, his eyes lighting.
“I’m dating somebody, Henry.”
He rolled his brown eyes. “You and Devlin? That thing still happening?”
“Pretty much,” I said flatly.
“Really?” Henry shook his head. “Come on, he’s not going to stick around. Everybody knows that.”
Ouch. “Do they?” My voice rose just a bit.
“Yeah. I mean, I don’t want to hurt your feelings or anything, but Aiden’s not a guy who’s going to settle down.
He was wild as a kid, and I’ve heard he’s always off traveling the world.
I mean, you’re very pretty, and I can see someone wanting to land for a while with you, but honey, it ain’t going to last.”
I stared at him for a beat. “I appreciate the dating advice,” I said, keeping my tone even, “but right now it is lasting.” I wasn’t about to tap into insecurities I might have because of Henry Johnston. “Is that it?”
“Well, no.” He reached into his lapel pocket and pulled out an envelope, then handed it across the desk to me.
I reached for it. “What is this?” Was Gloria adding to her suit? If so, she didn’t need a process server for that. I flipped the envelope open and scanned the pages quickly. “Wait a minute. Gloria’s suing me.”
“Yes.” Henry leaned back in the chair. “Apparently, last night at the Clumsy Penguin, you called her names and slandered her.”
I tried to think back. I couldn’t even remotely remember what I’d said, but I knew we’d talked about Gloria. “How did I damage her?”
Henry gave a slight shrug. “You’re Anna Albertini. You’re practically a public figure in this town, and anything you say could damage somebody.”
I snorted. “A public figure? I hardly think so.”
He appeared unbothered, his expression remaining serene.