Silence is Golden. Grace Quincey
Dan, “whoever filled the contract was the last person to see him alive.”
“Who said it was a man that was killed?”
“You did, you said I was the last person to see him alive!”
“Well, of course,” said Lieutenant Martin after a slight pause, “but you know what I meant—the last person to see him alive before he was killed. I need to know, Dan, just what you were doing in a private booth at Luie’s last night with Arnie D’Arlo?”
With an inward start, Dan realized that until this moment he had not even known Arnie’s last name.
He also knew that the maître d’ had seen both Arnie and him in the booth, so there could be no denying that.
“Jerry,” Dan said to the lieutenant, “you know I can’t divulge what was said or done between an attorney and his client.”
“This is murder, Dan, out and out first-degree murder, and you have yourself smack dab in the middle of it. How do we know he was a client, Dan? You haven’t told anything that would lead us to believe that? You have got to do a little cooperating here, Dan. It sure is strange that he was killed immediately after talking with you. What did he unload on you, Dan? It also seems damn coincidental that immediately after your little talk with Arnie, our governor is found dead within that same time frame.”
Dan felt his blood boiling, and he fought to keep himself under control. The urge to hit the lieutenant was overpowering, and Dan began feeling an unwarranted and very unwelcome noose tightening around his neck.
The lieutenant continued his barrage on Dan.
“What did he unload on you, Dan? How do we know he was a client, Dan? You haven’t told anything that would lead us to believe that. Are you beginning to get the drift, Dan?”
“Yeah,” retorted Dan, “it sure seems to me you are accusing me of being in the middle of a conspiracy to kill the governor. If you really think that, then arrest me here and now, and let’s get on with it, because I just happen to know the best defense lawyer in town—me, myself, and I—that’s who, and I think you know how that trial is going to end!”
“You might consider getting a lawyer other than yourself,” countered the lieutenant. “You, of all people, must know the century-old adage that only a fool represents himself.”
Dan found himself in a trembling rage and turned his back to the detectives.
“We’ll be back in touch,” said the lieutenant.
“Aren’t you going to tell me not to leave town?” quipped Dan.
The detectives did not laugh.
After the detectives left, Dan sat trying to get himself under control. Just what were the detectives trying to tell him? Was he under suspicion, and if so, for what? Was the governor murdered, and if so, what made them think he was involved? He needed to know more about what was going on in that investigation.
Tara came in and was bursting with curiosity.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“I don’t really know, Tara, but they are sure acting like I had something to do with the governor’s death,” Dan replied. “Have you heard any details about the governor’s death I might have missed?”
“Nothing but rumors,” she said, “something about an overdose of insulin or something. He was a diabetic, I think.”
“I guess I had better get some details,” he said, “if I am going to have to defend myself for murder.
And with that thought in mind, he started making calls, first to Jenene, who still didn’t answer.
Chapter 9
A Time to Think
Jenene had been stunned when Dan bolted from the house. She had been depending upon him for both moral support and some explanation of what was going on. The news of the governor’s death kept running through her mind as she remembered the frozen stupor Dan was in when she came back from the cabin.
Jenene had found herself trembling both in fear and anger. Where could she turn? Who could help her? She knew something was terribly wrong with the whole situation, and that Dan must be involved somehow, at least to the extent of knowing more than he was telling her. She kept telling herself that he would be back momentarily or at least call her, but when he had not done either by the next morning, she decided to find some safety for the moment. Not even bothering to call first, she booked a plane to Reno to the refuge of her aunt Mimi.
She found herself actually trembling as she rang Mimi’s doorbell. As her aunt opened the door, a flood of memories swept over Jenene, pushing to the forefront her never-ending quest for the answer to her parents’ death. Here was where she had gone from a grief-stricken youngster to a mature woman, married and well into her career as an attorney. But the past was still here in the present—still here in this house.
But the one thing that was still real was her love for her aunt and uncle, and as Aunt Mimi hugged her, she felt a certain peace she hadn’t felt for days (had it been only days?) since she had received that first note telling her that someone knew who had killed her parents.
“You don’t really seem surprised that I am here,” Jenene said to Mimi.
“I thought you might be on your way,” said Mimi. “Why don’t you see if your old room is still there, and when you’re relaxed some from the flight, come on in to the kitchen, and I’ll brew the coffee, and we can ‘chew the fat’ like we used to in the good old days.”
With a slight chuckle, Jenene headed upstairs to her old room, and as she started unpacking, she was again filled with nostalgia. It was good to be here again. She could, perhaps, find here the needed temporary seclusion. Perhaps, though, it might be well to let Dan know she was safe. She dialed their home, but there was no answer. So when the answer machine kicked in, she merely left the message that she was safe and she would be in touch later, and got into some comfortable clothes and headed down to the kitchen to “chew the fat” with Mimi.
They drank the coffee and made the small talk that came after not seeing each other for a long time, and then Jenene asked her point blank, “Just why weren’t you surprised to see me, Aunt Mimi?”
“Because of this,” she answered as she handed Jenene a letter directed to her at Mimi’s address.
Jenene began to tremble again as she took the letter and opened it.
“What is it?” she asked anxiously as she saw Jenene turning pale.
Jenene began to sob uncontrollably, and for some time, all Mimi could do was hold her and try to comfort her. Finally, the sobbing began to subside. Jenene handed Mimi the note.
For the third time, there were six little words, “Your last warning—watch your back.”
“What is going on, Jenene?” asked Mimi anxiously.
“I just wish I knew,” Jeanne countered. “I seem to be in trouble of some sort, and I am not sure why. But I am sure it has something to do with Papa’s and Mama’s death. I am starting to be scared, Aunt Mimi—really scared—and you and Uncle Fritz are the only people I can turn to.”
With that Jenene began to unfold to Mimi her years of obsession in search of the truth of her parents’ death, and she showed Mimi the notes she had received.
“It must be politically activated,” Mimi said. “It’s the only thing that makes any sense at all. It must all go back to when your parents died.”
“My parents didn’t just die, Aunt Mimi, they were killed. I know that, and I will not stop probing until I find their killers. Think back, Aunt Mimi, back to before their death—fill me in on anything I might need to know.”
“Well,” answered Aunt Mimi, “there was a lot of hell-of-a-to-do going on