Chapter 21
chapter
twenty-one
Morning arrived with cruel intensity. Sunlight streamed through blinds Lawson hadn't closed, stabbing directly into her bourbon-abused brain. She rolled away from the window, encountering a water glass and aspirin on the nightstand. Claire had anticipated her morning needs.
Bathroom rituals occurred on autopilot. Cold shower. Teeth brushed twice. Clean clothes from her go-bag. Each movement deliberate to minimize discomfort. The mirror reflected bloodshot eyes and skin that hadn't received adequate hydration. Punishment for weakness visible in every pore.
Voices drifted from the kitchen. Claire and Fiona engaged in a hushed but intense conversation. The scent of coffee permeated the house, drawing Lawson forward despite the desire to hide in hangover shame.
"She lives," Fiona announced as Lawson appeared in the doorway. No judgment colored her tone, just matter-of-fact observation.
Claire pushed a steaming mug across the counter. "Black. Strong enough to resurrect the dead."
"Feels appropriate." Lawson claimed the offering with unsteady hands. "Why are you both up so early?"
"Conference call with Thomas Hutchinson at ten." Claire checked her watch. "Twenty-eight minutes from now."
The swirling voices from last night finally began to make sense. "Thomas Hutchinson? Ray's brother?"
"The very same." Fiona leaned against the refrigerator, tablet propped against her chest. "Senior partner at Hutchinson & Associates. Arranged through his executive assistant after considerable negotiation."
"How did you manage that?"
"Mentioned potential story connections between his firm and Blackwell's podcast." Fiona's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Suggested press coverage might follow certain angles regardless of his participation."
"Polite professional blackmail." Claire prepared her own coffee. "Diplomatic pressure to address questions before they become public speculation."
Lawson's hungover brain struggled to process the implications. "He agreed to speak with journalists about his dead brother?"
"For fifteen minutes only." Fiona consulted her tablet. "Via conference call rather than an in-person meeting. No recording permitted."
"I want to be on the call."
Claire and Fiona exchanged glances.
"Bad idea." Claire shook her head. "If he knows you're listening, he'll say nothing substantive."
"He doesn't need to know." Lawson sipped her coffee, the caffeine activating dormant neurons. "Speaker phone. I'll stay silent."
"Risky." Fiona frowned. "Lawyers develop paranoia as a professional skill. He'll sense an audience."
"I need to hear his voice." Lawson set her mug down firmly. "Need to gauge his reactions directly."
Another silent exchange between the two women. Some unspoken communication passed between them before Claire nodded. "Okay. But absolute silence from you."
"Understood."
The minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness.
Lawson consumed three glasses of water and another coffee while reviewing Fiona's notes on Thomas Hutchinson.
Harvard Law. Clerked for a Supreme Court justice.
Built Hutchinson & Associates from a regional practice to a national powerhouse specializing in corporate crisis management.
Divorced twice. No children. Fifteen years older than his half-brother Ray.
At precisely 9:59 a.m., Fiona's laptop chimed with an incoming call notification. She connected and activated the speaker. "Fiona Stevens and Claire Stevens for Thomas Hutchinson."
"One moment while I connect you to Mr. Hutchinson's line." The woman's voice was crisp and professional but had an underlying weariness to it. "Mr. Hutchinson is finishing another call."
Soft classical music replaced the assistant's voice. Bach, Lawson thought, though her musical knowledge remained limited to what Monica had attempted teaching her years ago.
"Remember," Claire whispered to Lawson. "Complete silence."
The music ended abruptly. "The Stevens' sisters." Male voice. Deeper than expected. Smooth as aged whiskey, with none of the regional drawl his brother possessed. "Thank you for your patience. Thomas Hutchinson here."
"Appreciate you making time during difficult circumstances, Mr. Hutchinson." Fiona slipped into professional journalist mode. "Our condolences regarding your brother."
"Kind of you to say." A practiced pause. "Though I suspect condolences aren't your primary motivation for this conversation."
"We're investigating connections between your firm and Leah Blackwell's podcast." Fiona moved directly to substance. "Specifically, financial support channeled through Equinox Media Solutions."
A soft chuckle emerged from the speaker. "Direct approach. A refreshing change from legal equivocation."
"Do you deny the financial connection?" Claire asked.
"I categorically deny any direct funding from Hutchinson & Associates to Ms. Blackwell's podcast endeavors." His tone remained casual despite the formal language. "Though I can't speak to what individual partners might support through personal charitable foundations or media investments."
Lawson recognized the careful parsing. Denial of direct funding while acknowledging potential indirect support. Corporate lawyer precision in creating plausible deniability.
"Ms. Blackwell clerked at your firm." Fiona pressed forward. "Immediately after her judicial clerkship."
"Briefly, yes. One of dozens of promising young attorneys who pass through our associate program annually."
"Did you personally work with her?"
"Minimal interaction." Keyboard clicks sounded in the background. "Her performance reviews indicate solid research capabilities but limited client interaction skills. Hence her relatively short tenure with us."
"Yet her podcast specifically targets the case involving your brother." Claire interjected.
Silence stretched for several seconds. When Hutchinson spoke again, his tone had cooled noticeably. "My brother Raymond was troubled. Had been for years. His relationship with Detective Landry compounded existing personal issues."
"Troubled how?" Fiona asked.
"Obsessive tendencies. Difficulty maintaining professional boundaries." Hutchinson's voice lowered slightly. "The situation with Monica was becoming too much."
"Too much?" Claire echoed the phrase.
"I've said more than I intended already." The keyboard clicking stopped. "Family matters remain private despite public interest."
"Your brother confessed to murdering Detective Landry." Fiona's statement hung in the air between them. "Yet, evidence suggests his suicide was staged."
"Dangerous speculation, Ms. Stevens." Hutchinson's response came too quickly. "I'd caution against publishing unsubstantiated theories about an active investigation."
"The timing raises questions." Claire adopted her cross-examination tone.
"Your brother dies hours after being identified as romantically involved with Monica Landry.
Evidence suggesting murder disguised as suicide emerges.
Meanwhile, a podcast with connections to your firm controls the public narrative. "
"Coincidences appear significant until proven otherwise." Hutchinson's response sounded rehearsed. "Raymond's death represents tragedy, not conspiracy."
Lawson studied the laptop as if it might reveal Hutchinson's facial expressions. His voice carried a subtle tension beneath his practiced casualness. The lawyer answered questions while revealing nothing substantive—professional misdirection elevated to an art form.
A door opened on Hutchinson's end of the call. A muffled female voice spoke urgently in the background. "Sir, I apologize for the interruption. She found the second recording."
Papers shuffled. A chair creaked. When Hutchinson returned to the call, his voice carried tightly controlled alarm. "Ladies, I apologize for the abrupt conclusion, but an urgent client matter requires immediate attention."
"We have additional questions about your brother's connection to departmental corruption." Fiona attempted to extend the conversation.
"Perhaps another time." Professional politeness barely masked his desire to end the call. "I trust this conversation addressed your immediate concerns."
"Mr. Hutchinson—"
"Again, your condolences are appreciated during this difficult period of personal grief." The words were rushed together. "Good day."
The call disconnected as silence filled Claire's beach house kitchen.
"Well, that was abrupt." Fiona stared at her laptop screen. "Second recording?"
"Whatever it is sent him running." Claire tapped her fingers against the counter. "Something more important than controlling his brother's narrative."
Lawson processed the conversation while nursing her coffee. Hutchinson had revealed little beyond careful denials and vague references to his brother's "troubles." Professional crisis management applied to personal tragedy.
"He was nervous." Lawson broke her silence. "Controlled, but definitely nervous."
"Agreed." Fiona made notes on her tablet. "Especially when his assistant interrupted about finding a recording."
"What recording would warrant that reaction?" Claire frowned. "Something connected to Ray's death?"
"Or Monica's murder." Lawson set her empty mug in the sink. "Blackwell mentioned unnamed sources providing sealed evidence. What if Ray recorded something before he died?"
"Insurance policy." Fiona nodded slowly. "Protection against whoever was pulling his strings."
"Which his brother's firm is now desperately trying to contain." Claire completed the logical progression.
Lawson's phone vibrated with a notification. Dead Air Productions announcement: Episode 6: "The Second Recording" broadcasting LIVE tonight at 6 p,m, Truth that someone killed to suppress.
She showed the screen to Claire and Fiona. "Seems Blackwell found whatever Hutchinson's assistant was panicking about."
"Live broadcast." Fiona's eyebrows rose. "Breaking usual podcast release patterns. She's afraid someone might stop her."
"Or capitalizing on dramatic timing." Claire's skepticism remained intact. "Maximum audience engagement through artificial urgency."
"Either way, she has something Hutchinson wants contained." Lawson scrolled through additional notification details. "Something worth killing his brother to protect."
Fiona gathered her equipment with practiced efficiency. "I need to get back to the Tribune. Prepare coverage for whatever bombshell drops tonight."
"Stay here." Claire's suggestion carried undertones of command. "It’s safer to work remotely until we know what that recording contains."
"I can't file stories from beach house isolation." Fiona shook her head. "Professional risk comes with the territory."
The women maintained eye contact for several heartbeats before Claire conceded with a nod. "Check in every hour. Any sign of surveillance or unusual attention, come straight back here."
"Yes, Mother." Fiona's sarcasm masked genuine appreciation for concern. "Lawson should stay put, though. Her connection to both murders makes her the most vulnerable target."
"Agreed." Claire turned to Lawson. "You're officially on beach house arrest until further notice."
Lawson didn't argue. Her hangover combined with revelation fatigue left little energy for resistance. "What about Parks? He should know about the recording." She hesitated, thinking about his last words to her. How long would their interests be aligned? Were they still?
"I'll contact him through secure channels." Claire moved toward her laptop. "An anonymous tip to his personal email rather than the department address."
Fiona departed with promises to return before the podcast aired. Claire retreated to the home office for client calls that couldn't wait despite murder investigations and corruption conspiracies. Normal professional obligations, continuing alongside extraordinary circumstances.
Lawson found herself alone on the deck, listening to the waves break against the distant shoreline. Six hours until Blackwell's live broadcast. Six hours to prepare for whatever revelation threatened Thomas Hutchinson enough to abruptly abandon careful damage control.
Her phone remained silent despite the notification settings. No messages from Parks. No further social media updates from Blackwell. Just the looming promise of "The Second Recording" and its unknown contents.