Chapter 13
Hawk had a funny feeling about this that had nothing to do with invading someone’s privacy. He sat behind Royce’s desk in his home office and began opening drawers.
“This place is off the hook,” said Austin. “Can you imagine how much money this guy must have?”
The house was easily five thousand square feet, and every room looked like it had been professionally decorated. Hawk had just started looking at houses online, imagining buying one with Olivia, so he had some idea of what a place like this might cost.
Millions.
State judges must get paid pretty damn well.
Or else they didn’t.
“The house doesn’t bother me as much as the family,” he said. “Those girls didn’t want us here, permission or not.”
“You got that too, huh? Though I think the older one kind of liked me.” Austin looked up from the filing cabinet he was flipping through and winked at Hawk.
“I’m pretty sure she had something stuck in her eye.” He closed one drawer and opened another. “Well hello, Ruger.” He pulled the revolver out of the desk drawer. “Loaded.”
“What kind of dumb shit leaves a loaded gun in a desk drawer?”
“The state justice kind of dumb shit, apparently.”
“Hold the phone, here’s something interesting.” Austin pulled a file out of the cabinet. “A bank account in Switzerland. People actually have those?”
“Sure. You don’t have to put your name on it. It just has a number. Good place to hide money. What’s the balance?”
“Just over three million.”
“Maybe our judge is a saver.”
“Yeah, right. That’s probably it. I’ll bet he started when he had a paper route as a kid.”
Hawk dug through paperclips, perfectly sharpened pencils and sticky notes. A cigar box was tucked into the back of one drawer, and he pulled it out, opening it on the desk. Inside was a photograph of a beautiful young woman, topless in bed.
She was looking at the camera, a sly smile on her face.
“Something tells me this isn’t Barbara Royce.” Hawk held up the picture for Austin to see.
He whistled. “That’s not what she looked like in the wedding picture on the wall downstairs, that’s for sure. Flip it over. See if there’s anything on the back.”
“Nothing.”
“Maybe it’s part of his secret stash. Don’t all guys have some porn hidden somewhere?”
Hawk fingered the picture. “I don’t think this is porn. The way she’s looking at the photographer… I think she loved him.”
“An affair?”
“It’s possible.” He tucked the cigar box back into the drawer, minus the photograph, which he stuck in his shirt pocket.
The men worked quietly for some time.
“I think I found something,” said Austin. He brought a folder to the desk and opened it in front of Hawk. “You recognize any of these names?”
Hawk scanned the list. “No. Should I?”
“My sister was in charge of fundraising for the art gallery downtown. A lot of these names sound familiar. I think they’re donors.”
“For an art gallery? What does that have to do with Royce?”
“Rich people usually like to spread their money around. They don’t just give to the art gallery. They give to charities and causes.”
“And politicians. Let me see that.” Hawk flipped through the folder. “Do you think it’s possible Royce was misappropriating campaign funds from his elections?”
Austin looked around the room. “Judging from this house, I’d say it’s fucking likely. Rich people are always hiding something.”
“You got something against people with money?”
“Hell yeah. Most of them got it by doing something wrong. Think about it. Honest work doesn’t pay so good.”
“Some people are born into money. They just manage to keep it.”
“Exactly. You give your average working Joe a million dollars, what’s he going to do with it?”
Hawk grinned. “Give a lot of it away.”
“That’s right. You buy your mama a house, you buy your nephews and nieces each a car. But rich people don’t think that way. They don’t have the same morals. And I’m pretty damn sure my pops never had a picture of half-naked woman in a cigar box somewhere.”
“You don’t think poor people cheat on each other?”
“Not the way the rich folks do,” said Austin. “That’s what I liked about the SEALs. They’ve got high moral standards. They don’t let the riffraff in, know what I mean?”
“I don’t know about that. The day Cowboy got his swim fins, he almost missed the ceremony because he was buying weed from an AWOL buddy and banging the chaplain’s daughter in the officer’s barracks.”
Austin laughed. “I really like that guy, Cowboy. He’s all right.”