Part 4 (1/2)

”Later,” Barbara said. She was half turned, watching out the rear window. As soon as the house was out of sight behind trees, she said, ”Go another few feet and stop. I have a sudden hankering for a walk in the woods.”

When Sh.e.l.ley pulled to a stop, they both got out of the car and Barbara surveyed the woods. Dense, deeply shaded beneath the canopy with little understory in such dark shadows. Someone, Alex, she suspected, had kept the brambles cut down along the driveway. From here neither the house nor the road was visible. She started to walk toward Gus Marchand's property with Sh.e.l.ley following.

A few minutes later they came to the dirt track where the girl Rachel and her friend had parked, and then they reached the edge of the woods. Barbara looked at her watch, three and a half minutes. Before them lay the broad expanse of mown gra.s.s, and the Marchand house.

”Hilde Franz,” Sh.e.l.ley whispered. ”She could have done it.” There were several cars in the Marchand driveway and as they watched, more cars drove in slowly. Barbara remembered reading that the funeral was today; they were coming now for the wake.

”Let's beat it,” she said.

6.

They drove on Old Opal Creek Road past the waterfall with a trickle of water sparkling in the suns.h.i.+ne, and the place where Leona's car had gone into the creek. A small white cross surrounded by flowers marked the spot. The road was steep here, the curves very sharp, without guardrails; mammoth boulders were s.p.a.ced along the shoulder instead. Sh.e.l.ley crossed the old bridge and drove past the school.

They stopped at The Station. When they entered, a cl.u.s.ter of people at a table fell silent and didn't make a sound while they were there. The place looked like a hundred others that Barbara had seen with gas pumps out front and stocked with the same kinds of foodstuffs that convenience stores carried, as well as a small deli counter with prepackaged sandwiches and organic juices side by side with Dr Pepper and Coca-Cola. There was a grill, but no one manning it at that hour.

Barbara and Sh.e.l.ley bought sandwiches and juice and carried them out to a picnic table. ”Flatland foreigners,” Barbara murmured.

Driving back to Eugene after their hurried lunch, Barbara said, ”The first issue we have to deal with is to preserve his privacy, keep his anonymity. I want to talk to Dad. Drop me off in town.”

She had not been in her father's law offices for more than a year, yet the pretty receptionist knew her and smiled broadly when she approached the desk. To her shame, Barbara could not remember the young woman's name.

”Your father's in his office,” the receptionist said. ”I'll give him a call.”

While she waited, Barbara gazed about. Sometimes she thought that her father and Sam Bixby had started this firm as soon as the Flood receded and had not changed a thing except to add s.p.a.ce. They had started with two rooms and now had the whole floor. Barbara had started her career here and might still be here if Sam Bixby hadn't kicked her out. When she said something like that to Frank, he had snorted. ”He didn't kick you out. You walked.”

”He was lacing up his kicking-out boots. I had a narrow escape.”

Sam Bixby did not like criminal cases, did not like the riffraff she and her father a.s.sociated with. She was grinning at the thought of going to his office to say hi, and watch the worried frown cross his face.

The receptionist said, ”He said for you to go right in.”

Frank met her at the door and kissed her cheek. ”That was quick,” he said.

She saw Bailey slumped in a chair with a drink in his hand. ”Hi, Bailey. Don't go away. I have something for you.”

”Do I look like I'm going anywhere?” he said, raising his gla.s.s.

”Nope. But you never do, even when you're at full speed.” He looked like the most disreputable person who ever entered these premises, she was certain. She turned to Frank. ”What do you mean, quick?”

”I called Maria about half an hour ago, and presto, here you are. Come sit down. I have an interesting little problem.”

She sat in one of his comfortable chairs and propped her feet up on his nice old coffee table. He didn't even raise an eyebrow.

”You read about the Marchand murder, I guess,” Frank said, sitting down opposite her.

She felt the stirring of something very unpleasant in her stomach and hoped it was the sandwich she had eaten at The Station. ”I read about it.”

”Good. Yesterday an old friend, princ.i.p.al of the school out there, came to me for advice; she's afraid she might be a suspect-”

Barbara jumped up and walked away from the table. ”Hilde Franz? She's an old friend?”

”How the h.e.l.l...? Yes. Hilde's my client.”

”Dad, don't say another word. Stop right there. Oh, G.o.d!” She walked to his desk and stood with her back to him, hands pressed hard on the desktop.

”What is it, Bobby?” Frank demanded. He had stood up and drawn closer to her.

She was thinking furiously. She couldn't tell him the name of her client. He'd sic Bailey onto Alex in a flash, before they had time to cover their tracks. She bowed her head, trying to think. Now Frank touched her shoulder.

”Barbara, what's wrong? Are you ill?”

She straightened and turned around. ”No. I'm fine. Dad, I have a client, too. Same murder. Different client. I guess we draw swords and meet at dawn or something.”

He looked as stunned as his words had left her. ”Who?”

She shook her head. ”I can't tell you.” Looking past him at Bailey, who was regarding them both with great interest, she added, ”I guess I don't have anything for you after all.”

”Christ on a mountain!” Frank muttered. He turned and moved away a step or two, then faced her again. ”Sit down and let's discuss this.”

”You know we can't do that,” she said. ”I guess I should be going, let you and Bailey get on with it.”

”Bobby-” He stopped, then nodded. ”Yes, I guess you should.” He did know they couldn't discuss it, not with different clients possibly at deadly risk. Barbara returned to the coffee table to retrieve her things and then went to the door. She looked back at him for a second before she left. Frank sat down heavily.

In the office after a few seconds of silence, Bailey said, ”You know-”

”Shut up,” Frank snapped. Bailey blinked in surprise and shut up. Frank was thinking hard. He had taught Barbara everything he knew, and she had gone far beyond that. She was a better litigator than he was, although he could cite better. Usually that didn't matter in a murder case. He knew very well that if the only way she could get a client cleared was by pointing her finger at someone else and making a d.a.m.n good case, then she would dig for that alternative. And that did matter. From what little he knew at this point, it wouldn't be hard to make a case against Hilde.

”Two things, and fast,” he said. ”Find out who her client is. And dig into Hilde Franz's life. She's hiding something; find out what it is.” Barbara wouldn't have learned more than that, and he needed to see how well Hilde had covered her tracks.

”Barbara's already on the phone telling her folks to clam up,” Bailey said plaintively.

”Find out,” Frank snapped. And then he thought, Barbara had many advantages going into this, but he had Bailey, and that would make the difference.

Barbara had gone straight to a pay phone and then hurried to her office. Then, closeted with Sh.e.l.ley and Maria, she said, ”Dad has Hilde Franz as a client.”

Sh.e.l.ley looked stricken and disbelieving; Maria was simply bewildered. ”What it means,” Barbara said, ”is that we can't talk to him about our case. Not to him and not to Bailey or any of his crew. Zilch, nada. Maria, if any of them come around, tell them you have orders to talk about nothing but the weather.”

”Say that to your father?”

”Say exactly that and then don't talk about anything except the weather. Not about me, Sh.e.l.ley, Mama, nothing. Got that?”

Maria nodded and set her mouth in a determined way. ”Nada. I get it, Barbara.”

”Good. Sh.e.l.ley, I'll call Minick and tell him there's been a change of plan. He has to go ahead with the computer stuff now. Bailey hasn't had time to put anyone on this yet, but he will have done so by tomorrow for sure, and more than likely he'll get started as soon as he leaves Dad's office. And that means you have to gather up those games and deliver them now. Can you do that?”