Chapter 30
The foyer of Legare Hall would soon be finished. Savannah stood in the grand entrance with its rounded dome ceiling soaring
overhead. She had cut out some of the needlessly ostentatious—and expensive—flourishes in her father’s plans, and the classic
grace of the space shone through. The beautiful room with its refurbished mahogany floors and exquisite moldings was everything
she’d dreamed it would be. She had big plans for the hall and smiled as she envisioned rolling out its name and purpose once
the entire building was completed.
The contractor called out to her, and she went to join him outside by the southern magnolia tree on the lawn. The tree’s white
blooms filled the air with fragrance. “It’s beautiful, Sergie. Well done. Where is the issue on the facade you called about?”
With Sergie’s attention to detail, there couldn’t be much of a problem.
He pointed to the roof. “We haven’t discussed guttering.
With the style of the building, I’d suggest copper, but it’s very expensive.
There are a few options that look like copper but don’t cost as much.
See what you think.” He pulled samples from a bag.
“We have copper-coated, which still has the same appearance. And here’s zinc.
Copper penny aluminum would be the least expensive option, and from down here it would look like the real thing. All of these would be suitable.”
She studied her choices and turned to stare at the building. The hall had sat here for twenty years falling into ruin. Did
she want to skimp now on this magnificent facade? No. No, she did not. “Let’s do the real thing.”
His faded blue eyes smiled with relief. “I was hoping you’d say that. I’ll get it ordered.”
“Thank you.” Over his shoulder she spotted Hez coming her way, and she lifted her hand in greeting and walked a few steps
to meet him.
He kissed her before taking her hand and beginning the walk back to her office in the May sunshine. “I talked to the prison
this morning and asked to see Francois Dubois. ‘Franky’ turned down a meeting. I wasn’t surprised. I did a little digging
before I called, and there are several Willards in prison with him. If it got out that he met with me, he’d likely have a
fatal ‘accident.’” Hez made air quotes with his fingers. “But I had to try. The Willard clan being on-site likely explains
Martine’s note and Michael’s hold over her. If she doesn’t cooperate, her father really is a ‘dead man walking.’ It would
be just a matter of time before one of the Willards took him out.”
“How important is her testimony?”
“If she tells the truth—the whole truth about how she and Michael set me up—that could tip the scales in our favor. The judge
would really have to wonder whether it’s in Simon’s best interests to be raised by Michael, no matter what the guardian says.
Michael could even wind up in prison.” Hez sucked in a breath through his teeth. “But without Martine’s testimony, we’ll probably
lose Simon.”
Savannah paused the walk and clung to his hand. “What are our options? Can we force Martine to testify? He’s her dad, not a spouse. Though it might be a challenge to find her.”
“Finding her is the easy part. I have a strong suspicion she’s in France, staying in or near her mother’s village in the Burgundy
region. She spent summers there after her parents divorced and her mom moved back across the pond.”
“Out in plain sight? What if Michael sends one of his goons to silence her?”
“He’s unlikely to do that. She’s proven she’s afraid of him and will do whatever he says. As long as he doesn’t get a whiff
of any disobedience, he’ll leave her alone.”
Savannah started toward her office again. Her afternoon would be full of meetings with faculty about changes for next year.
It was nearly lunchtime, and students sat on the soft carpet of grass with their snacks and meals. “Can we subpoena her to
testify?”
“No.” Hez paused at the pond until Boo Radley crossed the path to slide into the water. “It’s virtually impossible for an
American court to force someone in France to testify. As long as she stays there and doesn’t agree to testify, she and her
father are perfectly safe. I can hire a PI to verify she’s at her mother’s, then try to talk her into coming back willingly.”
Savannah shook her head. “You have too much to handle here. I’ll go. Maybe I can appeal to her softer side.” She leveled a
stern glance at him. “And your track record with her stinks. You still see the girl you used to know instead of the calculating
woman she is now.”
His cheeks flushed. “I don’t like it, babe. Michael could get wind of it and send one of his goons after you.”
“I’ll say I’m going to London about some funding or business of some kind. It will seem normal to the university. But I’ll fly to Paris instead and take the train. Do you remember the name of the town?”
“No, but I can find out.” He sounded resigned.
A three-day trip when she had so much on her plate wasn’t ideal, but Savannah felt a surge of energy at the thought of facing
Martine at last.
Hez wished he could be a fly on the wall during Savannah’s meeting with Martine. Then he started to picture the conversation
and changed his mind. His name would come up a lot, and the context might not always be positive. Still, he wished he could
be there. If anything happened to Savannah in his absence, he’d never forgive himself.
He did his best to focus on the paperwork and emails in front of him. He was keeping an eye on Savannah’s inbox as well as
his, and he was amazed at how much she had to do. There were emails about the renovations of Legare Hall and the campus chapel,
draft graduation schedules, and dozens of other items to sift through. There was even a lengthy complaint about Boo Radley,
who had allegedly eaten a professor’s cat. Hez very much doubted that Boo could even catch a cat, but the professor was adamant
and verbose. The cat hadn’t been home for two days and Boo seemed fatter than usual. Therefore, Boo must have eaten the cat.
Hez looked up the professor and was relieved that he wasn’t on the law faculty.
Hez’s email pinged with a message from Scott. The title was “Guardian’s Report” and the first line was “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”
Hez groaned as he opened the email and groaned again as he read the report. The guardian recommended that Michael’s adoption
petition be granted and that he get full custody of Simon, with Savannah and Hez getting visitation rights on holidays and
birthdays. The guardian came across as thorough and unbiased, which made things worse. She had met Simon multiple times, observed
him when he was with Michael and when he was with Savannah, and interviewed all three of the potential adopters.
She didn’t criticize Savannah or Hez, but she pointed out that they both had full-time jobs and couldn’t always be home for
Simon. The report also mentioned Hez’s work with the Justice Chamber, which had already put Simon in danger. By contrast,
Michael had a flexible schedule and could be home whenever Simon was. Michael also had an assortment of young relatives with
whom Simon was already bonding. And no one had ever pulled a gun on Michael in Simon’s presence.
The guardian noted that Hez and Savannah had raised concerns about Michael’s purported criminal connections, but she observed
that those hadn’t been proven. Simon’s opinion was no help—he loved his grandfather and his aunt and uncle.
Hez tried to think of a way the report could have been worse for him and Savannah. He failed.
A sharp rap at his door jolted him out of his funk. “Come in.”
The door opened and Ed, Dominga, and Toni entered, all smiling. Ed spoke first. “You know how you said you didn’t have any work for us? I told Jimmy, and he said you must be getting sloppy because there was an obvious loose end from the Hornbrook thing.”
“Oh, really.” Hez swiveled in his chair. “Did he say what it was?”
Dominga nodded. “We never figured out who was blackmailing James Hornbrook.”
Hez frowned. “He’s right. We should give that a shot.”
Toni’s smile broadened. “We already did. Jimmy hired us as externs for the job and paid our expenses. He said not to tell
you because you’d want TGU to pay for it.”
“He’s right about that too—but tell me what you found. You’ve all got grins as big as a gator’s.”
Ed pulled a binder out of his backpack. “It took some digging by Bruno, but we managed to pinpoint the location of the MacBook
used by the extortionist.” He pulled out a sheet of paper and laid it on Hez’s desk. “That’s where it is—or at least was.”
Hez looked down at a map with a circle drawn around a house. His ears roared and he felt lightheaded. “This . . . this is
Michael Willard’s home.”
Ed’s expression sobered. “It is. He was behind this all along. I don’t understand it, though. Why would he blackmail Hornbrook
and then stage a commando raid to kill him?”
“Because of Simon,” Hez said without hesitation. “But that also doesn’t make sense. Would Michael really put his grandson
in danger like that just to gouge a few bucks out of Hornbrook?”
Ed tapped his fingers on his binder. “Did he know Hornbrook was going to kidnap Simon and President Webster?”
Hez snapped his fingers. “That’s it! I’m sure Michael wants me gone, and he must have wanted Hornbrook gone, too, because Hornbrook could implicate Michael in the artifact smuggling.
So he set up this blackmail scheme to pit us against each other.
If he was lucky, one or both of us would wind up dead and he’d make some easy money without ever getting his hands dirty.
But then Hornbrook surprised him by kidnapping Simon and Savannah. ”
Ed nodded slowly. “Yeah, that could be it.”
Hez reached for his phone. “We need to get this to Hope ASAP.”
The custody hearing was only three days away. Would Hope be able to secure a warrant and execute it in time?