The Sleeping Beauty Killer Part 15

It was five-thirty by the time Leo and Laurie got back to the city. Leo tried to get Laurie to go straight home, but she wanted to type up her notes from the trip to Connecticut and always worked better at the office.

She was used to finding Jerry late at his desk, but was surprised to see Grace still at work, too. She was even more surprised to see Ryan wave as he pa.s.sed her in the hallway, a coffee from Bouchon Bakery in his hand.

"Why is Ryan here?" she asked Grace.

"He's been waiting around for his office to be ready. It was supposed to be done hours ago, but you know how slow the maintenance staff can be. They didn't even start painting until this morning. Anyway, he used the time to get to know Jerry and me a little better. I think he's eager to no longer be the new kid at school."

Laurie noticed a Bouchon pastry bag on Grace's desk that matched Ryan's cup. She had a strong feeling why Grace had stayed late.

Laurie stopped by Jerry's office and knocked on the open door.

"Please tell me Ryan didn't start dating my a.s.sistant while I was out of town for the day."

Jerry laughed. "You know Grace. She's a born flirt, but that's all it is. Besides, Ryan Nichols is much too high-maintenance for her. The only reason his office isn't ready is because he's been telling the building staff where to place every item and hang each picture of himself, down to the centimeter." Laurie took a small amount of satisfaction in the eye roll that followed.

She couldn't believe that Brett had given Ryan an office. The idea of providing one for Alex had never even been raised.

"I was actually about to call you," Jerry said, sounding more urgent. "I think I found something important."

Once they were seated in her office, he explained his excitement. "I was thinking about the 'Whispers' piece we found-the one that was probably about Hunter."

Shortly before Mindy Sampson published the photograph of Hunter with Gabrielle Lawson, her paper's "Whispers" column had published a "blind item" reporting that one of the city's most sought after men was about to become un-engaged. Laurie said she remembered it.

"It made me think we might have missed something when we were researching Mark Templeton. The write-ups about his departure from the Raleigh Foundation only hinted at improprieties, at worst." The reports simply noted that he'd left, that a.s.sets were down, and that he hadn't announced a new position. Perhaps there was wrongdoing at the foundation, and perhaps Templeton was involved, but there wasn't enough evidence for the reporters to raise the possibility directly.

Laurie could see where Jerry's thought was going. "That's when gossip columns resort to blind items," she said. "The paper can't get sued if they don't name names." When she had researched Templeton, she had conducted a media search for any mentions of either his name or the Raleigh Foundation. But a blind item that intentionally omitted the specifics would never turn up in such a targeted search. "You found something?" she asked.

"I think so." He handed her a printout from an archived "Whispers" column, dated several months after Templeton resigned as CFO of the foundation: What unnamed former fiduciary of what unnamed political-royalty non-profit was seen walking into the federal courthouse with a criminal defense lawyer two days ago? Are charges forthcoming? Stay tuned.

"This is good work, Jerry. I suppose it's possible they were talking about someone else, but a 'political-royalty non-profit'? This sounds like it has to be Templeton. Can we feel out the reporter who published it? They might confirm off the record."

"Unfortunately, I tried that already. 'Whispers' never gave bylines to its contributors. I took a stab in the dark and contacted the guy who was the paper's main financial reporter at the time, but he said it didn't ring a bell. He said it's possible their crime beat reporter came up with it, but he pa.s.sed away several years ago."

If they couldn't nail down the specifics of the story through the reporter, they'd have to find another way. Templeton had made it clear he had no plans to talk about his work for the Raleigh Foundation. That left only one other option.

She asked Grace which office the studio had given Ryan, then found him there, adjusting the throw cus.h.i.+ons on his new sofa. "Do you still have contacts at the U.S. Attorney's Office?"

Ryan had only worked at the federal prosecutor's office for three years after his Supreme Court clerks.h.i.+p, but he'd racked up an impressive trial record prosecuting white-collar criminals. "Sure," he said. "Not everyone can be rich and famous."

The wink that followed made her want to point out that, so far, he was neither. His uncle's friend may have given him a job and an office, but Laurie knew what he was being paid. Brett's frugality bent for no one.

Laurie handed him a copy of the blind item that Jerry had found. "It's possible that whatever happened between Mark Templeton and the Raleigh Foundation was serious enough that he hired a criminal defense lawyer. What would it mean if he went to the courthouse with his lawyer, but there's no record of any actual charges?"

Ryan took a quick glance at the printout and then exchanged it for a baseball from the top of his desk. He tossed it from hand to hand. "It's possible he was testifying, maybe in front of a grand jury. More likely, he could have been meeting with prosecutors, possibly as an informant."

"Any chance you can look into that?"

"Sure. But even if something fishy was going on at the foundation, it might have nothing to do with Hunter's murder."

"If Templeton knew Hunter was onto him, that would be a powerful motive to silence him."

"I just don't see it." He continued pa.s.sing the ball from side to side. "White-collar types don't like to get their hands dirty."

She resisted the temptation to list all of the stories she'd worked on that challenged his a.s.sumption. "Can you ask around or not?"

"Like I said, no problem."

She had thanked him and was almost out of his office when she heard his voice behind her. "Laurie, think fast."

He looked surprised when she effortlessly caught the ball headed her way. "Thanks," she said, slipping it into her jacket pocket. She smiled as she returned to her office. Maybe she'd even give it back to him at some point.

She was about to leave work when she got a text from Charlotte. Short notice but time for a drink?

Laurie barely remembered the days when she could do whatever she wanted after work. My kid may stop recognizing me if I don't go home. Want to swing by my place?

She felt silly the second she hit send. She couldn't imagine that Charlotte would want to spend a Friday night in her apartment with her son and father.

Only if your cute dad will be there, too. I'll bring the wine.

Laurie smiled. Now that was a good friend.

41.

"Should I open another?" Leo was holding up a bottle of Laurie's favorite Cabernet.

Charlotte held up her empty gla.s.s. "Well, let's see. The three of us just finished an entire bottle of wine."

"So that's a no?" Leo asked.

"Of course not. Pop the cork, Lieutenant Farley."

"Actually," Laurie corrected, "Dad retired as first deputy police commissioner."

"My apologies for the demotion, Leo." As Timmy cleared the last dinner plate, Charlotte looked impressed. "That's some young man you've got there."

Laurie could feel herself beaming.

"If you guys are having more wine, does that mean I can have ice cream?" Timmy asked from the kitchen.

"I suppose that's fair," Laurie responded.

Timmy was back with one scoop of chocolate and one scoop of vanilla by the time Leo was finished pouring the wine.

"So tell us more about the fas.h.i.+on show you're planning, Charlotte," Laurie said.

"Are you sure? I can't imagine the men want to hear about that."

"Of course we do," Leo said, even though Laurie knew her father was definitely not interested in the logistics of a women's fas.h.i.+on show.

"It's not the typical runway show. Because we do sportswear for real women, we're using famous athletes and actresses instead of typical models. We'll even feature some of Ladyform's employees and their friends. Just normal people."

Timmy's teeth were stained with chocolate when he smiled. "You should use my mom. She's a normal person, depending on your definition of normal."

"Nice," Laurie said.

"JK." It was Timmy's new version of just kidding. "Where's it gonna be, Miss Pierce?"

Charlotte smiled again at Timmy's good manners. "In Brooklyn. Does anybody know where DUMBO is?"

Leo jumped in. "That's Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpa.s.s." Then he explained the nickname to Timmy.

The area was between the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges. It used to be a wasteland known mainly for its ferry landing. Then a savvy developer bought it and turned it into a hotspot for galleries and tech start-ups, and gave it the trendy name. Now DUMBO was a haven for hipsters.

"We found the perfect spot," Charlotte said excitedly. "It's one of the last real, open warehouses. It's been cleared out for a condo conversion, but the developer hasn't found financing yet. So for now, it's three stories of concrete floors and exposed bricks and beams. Very industrial. We're going to have a different theme on each floor, and people will walk through the whole building, instead of watching models on a catwalk. I feel like we're putting on a Broadway production."

When Timmy finished his ice cream, Laurie announced, "All right kiddo, it's time to hit the hay. It might be Friday night, but you've got soccer practice in the morning."

"And I'm going to be there cheering from the sidelines," Leo said, "so I'm heading home. It was nice to see you again, Charlotte."

Charlotte insisted on helping Laurie wash the winegla.s.ses before leaving. "Thanks for a very lovely night, Laurie. You may have ruined my life, though. I think I need to have a kid."

"Really?"

"No," she said with a laugh. "Or 'JK' as he would say. But seriously, he's a keeper. I guess I should go. I'm dreading tomorrow. I have to call a guy from Accounting at home on a Sat.u.r.day and tell him he'll be attending sensitivity training first thing Monday morning. I'm sure that'll go over well."

"What did he do?"

"Looked at some extremely inappropriate websites on his company computer. Our Information Technology Department runs a monthly list of Internet usage."

"Wow. Is that typical?"

"These days, it's practically required. Your studio probably does, too. I'm sure the policy is buried in the small print of an employee handbook somewhere. Anyway, I've got to nip that sort of thing in the bud, and I insist on doing it myself. We're still a family-run business. I'm responsible for maintaining the culture of the office. Hey, before I leave, I wanted to ask how things are going with Alex." Laurie had mentioned to Charlotte that things had been awkward between her and Alex lately, but hadn't given details. "Any updates there?"

She shook her head. "That's a long conversation that we shouldn't start now. I'm sure everything will be fine."

Once she closed the apartment door behind Charlotte, Laurie checked the screen of her phone. No new calls.

She was not at all sure that everything with Alex would be fine.

42.

Two days later, Laurie stood in the Cipriani ballroom. She remembered coming here with Greg when they were choosing a venue for their wedding. Despite the astronomical prices, her parents had insisted that they look at it. "Are they crazy, Greg?" she had asked, as she marveled at the size and beauty of the s.p.a.ce. "We could invite every person we know and still fill only half the room. This place is fit for royalty, with a price tag to match."

Despite Leo's protests of you're my only daughter and this is the only wedding I'll ever pay for, they had insisted on using a more reasonably priced place. And everything had been perfect.

She remembered Greg smiling at her as Leo walked her down the aisle.

A voice pulled her back into the present. "It's very festive, isn't it?"

"Beautiful," Laurie echoed. In fact, the only thing in the room that was not festive was the person standing next to her, General Raleigh's a.s.sistant, Mary Jane. The woman looked as though her face might crack if she tried to smile.

"At the General's instruction, I had the tables decorated early so you could film prior to our event tonight. As you requested, we even used decor similar to the gala that took place the night before Hunter was killed." Mary Jane's deepening frown conveyed her disapproval.

Laurie did not remind her that her studio had agreed to make a generous donation to the foundation, which more than covered the expense. "The family was seated at the head table," Mary Jane said, gesturing toward the round table closest to the dais.

"And by the family, you mean . . . ?" Laurie already knew who was seated there, but she wanted to hear what Mary Jane had to say.

She seemed put out by the question, but began listing the family members: "Andrew and Hunter, Casey and her cousin, the General and I."

Laurie noticed the way Mary Jane listed herself with the General, as if they were a pair. "Only six?" Laurie asked. "These look like eight-tops."

"Of course, the foundation's chief financial officer was the other person. His wife did not attend because at the last minute their babysitter canceled."

"Right," Laurie said, as if her memory was being triggered. "What was his name again?"

Mary Jane's expression was flat, and she said nothing in response. "You'll probably want to get started soon. You absolutely must have these cameras out of here in three hours. Guests will begin arriving shortly thereafter."

"On that note, Mary Jane, you scheduled General Raleigh's interview with us tomorrow in Connecticut." Their plan was to question both James and Andrew Raleigh at the country house where Hunter had been shot. "But, as I hope my a.s.sistant made clear, we'd like to tape your segment today."

"Let's see how the day goes. Right now, the fundraiser is my priority."

"But you've already agreed to partic.i.p.ate. We need to keep to a schedule."

"And you will. Now, your three hours are fading fast. If worse comes to worst, you'll have me at your disposal tomorrow. I'll be accompanying the General to New Canaan."

Of course you will, Laurie thought. The man had served his country on every part of the globe, but if you believed Mary Jane, he could do nothing without her at his side.