48
Laurie nearly tripped over a soccer ball when she opened her front door. She started to pick it up but then saw all the other signs of Timmy’s presence scattered along the hallway floor: his trumpet case, video game cartridges, and enough sports equipment to teach a PE Class. Until Manhattan high-rises came with attached garages, this was the necessary decor, and it suited her just fine.
“How are my guys?”
Leo and Timmy were next to each other on the sofa watching the family’s favorite detective show, Bosch. An empty pizza box was sandwiched between two crumb-filled plates on the coffee table. This was Timmy’s version of paradise.
“You started without me?” The three of them were supposed to be binge-watching together.
Timmy hit the pause button. “We tried waiting, but the pizza smelled so good.”
“We just started,” Leo said. “Go change clothes. I’ll reheat some pizza while Timmy rewinds.”
She was on her second slice, engrossed in the show, when her cell phone buzzed on the end table. She stole a glance at the screen, hoping it was Alex. It was Casey. She decided to let it go to voice mail. She could return the call tomorrow from the Raleigh country house, where they’d be interviewing James and Andrew Raleigh. Casey and her family would be filmed last.
Instead of a new message alert on the screen, her phone buzzed again, and then a third time. Casey was hitting redial.
“Turn that off,” her father said. “It’s way past office hours.”
“I remember Mom trying to tell you the same thing for years,” Laurie said as she carried her phone to the kitchen.
Casey sounded excited on the other end of the line, skipping any kind of greeting. “I was just talking to Angela and my mom about the show. We think it would be wise not to mention the picture frame that was missing from the house.”
Laurie quietly sighed. The last thing she needed was editorial notes from the show’s participants. “I’m a little confused, Casey. I thought you believed the missing picture of Hunter with the President was the most compelling proof that someone else was in the house that night.”
“It is, and that’s why you shouldn’t describe the picture in any kind of detail. We were thinking you could say that something was missing-or maybe even that a picture was missing-without saying it was a photograph of Hunter and the President.”
“Okay, and why would we do that?” She immediately regretted asking, but curiosity had gotten the best of her.
“It’s like the way the police hold back one fact so they can test people who come forward with information. I assume your show will bring in potential tipsters. To separate the real ones from the crackpots, we could find out if they know anything about the picture. See what I mean?”
What Laurie could see was that Casey and her family had been watching too many cop shows. “Let me think it over. We’ll probably ask you about it when we film, but just so you know, we always edit the interviews later. Hey, while I’ve got you on the phone, tell me more about Mark Templeton. How long had he known Hunter?”
“Since freshman year at Yale. They were in the same residential college. Hunter was sort of a big deal on campus because of his family name. Mark was a financial-aid student, a bit out of his element at an Ivy. Hunter took Mark under his wing. That’s how he was.”
“And was that always the dynamic of their friendship?”
“That’s a fair statement. Hunter was a big personality. Mark was in his shadow to some extent. That’s what made me think it was even remotely possible that Mark might have been stealing from the foundation. Maybe over the years, he became resentful and felt like he was deserving in some sense.”
Laurie had been wondering the same thing. “When the President decided to honor the Raleigh Foundation, did Mark also get invited to the White House?”
“No. Hunter was only allowed to bring one other person.”
Laurie asked who he had chosen as his guest, even though she was certain she already knew the answer.
“He took me.” Casey paused as she realized the reason for Laurie’s question. “Oh my gosh, is Mark the one? Did you find more proof?”
Laurie wasn’t sure what to think at this point, but she was certain of one thing: she already missed talking about these issues with Alex.
49
Laurie was surprised to see a can of beer in Andrew Raleigh’s hand as a makeup technician applied powder to his face. She knew the man enjoyed a drink, but it was only ten-thirty in the morning, and he was about to be interviewed on camera about the murder of his older brother.
Perhaps spotting Laurie’s wary look, he held the can up in her direction. “Only the one, I promise. Sorry, but being in this house always gives me the willies. I mean, this isn’t the same sofa, but it’s still the place where my brother was killed. I’ll be lying on the couch watching a game and suddenly picture him running down the hall to the bedroom where it all happened. It’s almost like I can hear the shots.”
“I’m sorry.” It was the only thing she could think to say.
“Wow, I really know how to lighten the mood, huh?” In the mirror he made eye contact with the makeup woman and asked, “How do I look, sweetheart? A work of beauty?”
She took a final look at her handiwork and pulled the towel from his collar. “A regular Adonis,” she declared.
Andrew winked. “I think that’s what they call sarcasm.”
“Is General Raleigh here?” Laurie asked. They’d been at the house for more than an hour, and Laurie still hadn’t spotted him. On the other hand, the house had to be at least seven thousand square feet.
“No. A driver’s bringing him and Mary Jane from the city. PTA twelve-thirty P.M.”
“PTA?”
“Precise time of arrival. Nothing about my father’s schedule is estimated.” Andrew shook his empty can. “I feel a second one calling my name unless we get started pretty soon. Is your guy ready to roll?”
She turned to see Ryan clipping on his microphone outside the kitchen. “All good.”
As Ryan eased into a conversation about Andrew’s memories of his brother Hunter, Laurie thought about the remarkable progress her new host had made in just two days in front of the camera. He seemed completely comfortable, like a friend having a discussion in any normal living room. She turned to Jerry at her side. “What do you think?”
“He’s actually getting good,” Jerry whispered. “Does this mean we don’t hate him anymore?”
She smiled. “Baby steps.”
Jerry pressed a finger to his lips. Ryan was about to get to the good part. He reminded viewers that the prosecution’s theory of motive was that General Raleigh was pressuring Hunter to break off his engagement with Casey. “Just how strongly did your father disapprove of Casey?”
“Pretty strongly. But he wasn’t pressuring Hunter to do anything against his will. My father has a certain demeanor that comes from a military background, but at heart, he’s a dad who loves his sons, and he was worried Hunter was making a big mistake. He spoke up in the hope Hunter would see the light.”
“See the light about Casey?”
“Yes. He had good reason to be concerned. She was very temperamental. Impetuous, if you will.”
Impetuous did not sound like a word Andrew would choose. This entire narrative sounded rehearsed and was a marked change from his tune when Laurie interviewed him at his father’s townhouse. Gone was any sign of resentment of his father’s heavy hand over his sons’ lives. And he no longer sounded vaguely amused by Casey’s willingness to rock the family boat.
“She could be very grating, with an opinion about everything. And if Hunter even hinted that her behavior was inappropriate, she’d say things like Sometimes you’re just as stiff as your father.”