Chapter 12
“It’s a terrible tragedy,” Orson said when we caught up with him in his office. “I’m heartbroken to hear of it.”
He said it with all sincerity.
JD and I sat across the desk from him, trying not to look too doubtful.
His office overlooked the ocean. Pristine sapphire waves crashed against the shore in the distance. It was hard to imagine the guy could enjoy such a view and still dump thousands of gallons of waste offshore.
"I'm a little surprised to hear you say that," I said, "given the nature of your relationship."
Orson’s brow knitted with confusion. "I didn't have a relationship with Miss Hollister.”
I gave him a flat look.
"We had a difference of opinion. I have differences of opinions with people on a daily basis. Doesn't mean I wish them ill.”
"Her exposé cost your company a lot of money.”
"It did, but in the grand scheme of things," he shook his head. "Chump change. Certainly not enough for me to dwell on or revel in her demise. We’re talking about a human life, gentlemen," he said in a lofty tone, trying to sound sincere.
I tried not to show my disdain. "Where were you last night between 10:00PM and midnight?"
Orson chuckled. "You’re not really accusing me of murdering Sydney Hollister, are you?"
"No. I'm just asking where you were last night."
He sighed and gave me an annoyed look. "I was home with my wife, Claire. You can call her and verify, if you'd like."
"I'll need her contact information."
"Certainly. Is there anything else you need?"
"Patrick Carson is suing your company for $1 million in damages."
“I can't discuss ongoing litigation. I'm sure you understand."
I just stared at him and said nothing. The silence grew uncomfortable. Often, people will fill up the silence when it gets uncomfortable. Even when they shouldn't.
"Patrick is unstable,” Orson said. “He’s the kind of individual who is easily agitated.
We let him go because of poor conduct, poor performance, and a pattern of ongoing harassment.
I can't really say anything more. But we do have a counterclaim against these frivolous allegations. I am confident we will prevail.”
I just threw it out there. "Sydney’s testimony could have established a timeline.”
Orson’s jaw tightened. "We were unaware that Patrick was talking to Sydney at the time of his termination.
In no way did we let him go because of his allegations.
Therefore, he is not entitled to any compensation.
There was no retaliatory behavior on our part.
That's all I'm going to say about that." He paused.
"Gentlemen, thank you for stopping by, but I really must get back to business. "
I set my card on his desk, stood up, and shook his hand. "Don't forget to send me your wife's contact information."
He forced a smile, picked up the card, and said, "I'll do that right now.”
Sure enough, my phone buzzed with a text from Orson by the time we hit the lobby. We said goodbye to the receptionist, stepped outside, and took the elevator down to the main lobby.
"What do you make of that guy?" Jack muttered.
"I think Sydney’s death is convenient for him for a number of reasons. But he doesn't strike me as the type to get his hands dirty.”
"A guy like that has someone do his dirty work for him," Jack said.
We stepped off the elevator on the first floor, hurried across the atrium, and walked outside. I called Claire on the way back to the Wild Fury van. She confirmed Orson’s alibi. I didn't expect otherwise.
Jack's phone buzzed with a call as we climbed into the van. He pulled the device from his pocket, swiped the screen, and held the phone to his ear. "Tell me something good."
Sparky’s voice crackled through the speaker. "Your car is ready. You can pick it up anytime."
Pure joy filled Jack's face. "We are on our way."