Found Money - James Grippando [111]
“Unfortunately, Boulder won’t work. I can’t leave Piedmont Springs right now. I have some serious family issues I have to deal with.”
“What kind of joke is this?”
“I just can’t go anywhere right now. There’s been a…another death in the family.”
“I’m sorry. But do you really expect me to come all the way down to Piedmont Springs again?”
“Only if you want to find out why your mother would write to my father just two weeks before she died.”
Chills ran down her spine. That was all she needed to hear. “I’ll be there in the morning,” she said, then hung up the phone.
51
A firm knock on the door landed just after dawn. Sarah lay on her side in the fetal position, trying to relieve the stabbing back pain that came with her pregnancy. Her bleary eyes focused on the orange liquid crystals on the alarm clock beside her bed. 6:22 A.M. She rolled out of bed, slipped on her robe, and started downstairs.
The night had taken its toll. She had slept little, wept often. The tears were not those typical of grief. They were laden with self-pity and apprehension about her future. She thought about the long term, but it was the short term that created the most anxiety. Her mother had run interference for her last night, telling the police that Sarah was an emotional wreck and couldn’t talk to them. Very soon, however, she would have to talk to the homicide detectives. They’d surely ask her if she was aware of any reason why someone might want to kill her husband. One question had kept her awake most of the night: What would she tell them about her father’s money?
The knocking continued.
“Coming,” she said, shuffling to the front door. She instantly regretted having said a word. It took away the option to peek out the window, see who it was, and pretend not to be home. She pulled back the curtain for a discreet peek anyway.
The man standing on the porch was facing the driveway, his back to the house. His profile was unfamiliar to her. He seemed handsome and was dressed casually but smartly. The wristwatch looked to be the expensive kind. Inasmuch as she didn’t feel ready to talk to police, she was certain that no one at the sheriff’s department could afford a Rolex. She unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door.
“Mrs. Langford,” he said in a soft, sympathetic tone. “I’m Phil Jackson.”
She knew the name but was unsure of her feelings. “You’re Liz’s lawyer.”
“That’s right. I’m very sorry about your husband. I know this is a very difficult time for you, but it’s very important that we talk.”
“What about?”
“May I come in, please?”
“No.”
He took a half-step back. “Mrs. Langford, I can understand how you might have some unresolved feelings about me. But the sooner you recognize I’m on your side, the sooner we can get to the bottom of what happened to Brent.”
“I know what happened to Brent. He got himself in the middle of something he should never have gotten involved in. And he got himself killed.”
“But he did it for you. And your baby.”
“I doubt that.”
“It’s true. After Brent testified in court yesterday morning, he and I had a nice talk. One of the last things he said to me was that he knew he hadn’t been a very good husband to you over the years. He always thought you deserved better.”
Her eyes clouded with emotion. She was suddenly less defensive. “He really said that?”
“Yes, he most certainly did. He knew he hadn’t provided for you. He regretted that, terribly. His testimony in court yesterday was his way of making it up to you.”
“It sounded to me like he was just trying to hurt Ryan.”
“No. The goal wasn’t to hurt Ryan. The goal was to protect you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Let me be up front with you. I know all about the three million dollars in the Banco del Istmo in Panama City. A law enforcement source verified that for me. Brent knew about it, too, obviously. His biggest fear was that Ryan—Mr. Goody Two-shoes—was going to screw things up and lose the money for the whole family.”
“That