Marta Perry - Murder in Plain Sight

“Threw something?” He sounded about sixteen and unprepared to deal with anything other than a request for ice. “What…what do you want me to do, ma’am?”

“I want you to come over here and see what’s going on.” Call the police? She hesitated.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll…I’ll be right there.” He didn’t sound particularly willing.

She waited, cell phone in hand, ready to dial 911 if anything else happened. But nothing did, except a tentative knock on the door.

“Ma’am? It’s Benny, the night manager. The thing that hit your window…it’s okay. Just a bird flying into it, that’s all.”

She opened the door cautiously. The kid looked sixteen, too. He held a flashlight, which he shone down on the object on the ground in front of the window.

A bird…black, large. It lay spread out on the sidewalk, wings limp, head twisted.

“A raven, I think it is.” He knelt, poking at it. “Dead. Must have broken its neck when it hit the window. Birds do that, sometimes, y’know.”

“Yes, I know.” She probably looked ridiculous to him. Still, after hearing someone standing out here, seeing movement in the parking lot, no one could blame her for overreacting, could they?

“I’ll get something to clean it up.” He went quickly back toward the office.

She stood for a moment, looking down at the bird. Then, unwillingly, she bent, touching it. The raven, if that’s what it was, was dead. It was also cold and stiff.

She took a quick step away from it, grabbing the door. That bird hadn’t flown into her window. Not unless it could fly when it was already dead.

JESSICA PUSHED OPEN THE door to Leo’s office with the cardboard box she was carrying. At his questioning look, she put it down on the desk he’d insisted she use while she was in town.

“The box of discovery from the D.A.’s office. They finally came through with it, but there’s not much, in comparison to some cases I’ve worked.”

That was unfortunate. While it could be difficult to sort through tons of material, at least that gave the opportunity to pick holes in the prosecution’s case. Clearly the D.A. thought he had a slam dunk in this one with the evidence he had.

Leo came to peer curiously into the box. Then he took a step back, as if recalling that it was Jessica’s case, not his. “Sorry. I just can’t help being interested.”

“Please, go ahead and look. You’re assisting with the case, even if you don’t want to formalize the arrangement.” Jessica slipped off her suit jacket. She’d begun to feel that her clothes were a bit too formal for this setting, but she was stuck with what Henderson, Dawes and Henderson thought appropriate for an associate. “Given all the local antagonism, I can understand why you feel that way.”

“If that bothered me, I wouldn’t be insisting that you work here.” He lifted the lid on the box while she hung her jacket from the old-fashioned coat tree in the corner.

“Well, no, I don’t see you being worried about a little bad press,” she said. Leo, like Geneva, would do what he thought was right, no matter what the cost. It was a refreshing attitude. Sara would like these people.

Thinking of Sara reminded her of what had happened after their conversation the night before. Once again, after a little consideration, she hadn’t called the police, for two very good reasons. One, they wouldn’t have been able to do anything with the only evidence, a dead bird. And two, if the press got hold of it, she’d undoubtedly be letting herself in for worse, as more people got the great idea of driving Thomas’s defender away.

“I’ve lived long enough to know that even the worst things fade eventually,” Leo was saying. “And since I’m retiring, no one can hurt my business.”

She opened her laptop and switched it on, sinking into the padded desk chair. “I can’t tell you what it means to me to have the use of your office.”

“Motel room getting you down?” he asked.

She nodded, opening her e-mail. “Too small, terrible lighting and a desk that wobbles hopelessly.” To say nothing of too many uncomfortable…well, scary…moments that reminded her of how alone she was.

The truth was, quite aside from the convenience of the office, she enjoyed Leo’s company. Unlike the premises of Henderson, Dawes and Henderson, this office wasn’t permeated with the aroma of ambition.

“I enjoy having you here,” Leo said. “Brings a little life into the old place.” He glanced around the comfortably old-fashioned office, giving a sigh that he might not have been aware of. “I have to confess, I’ll miss it.”

“People will miss you, I’m sure.” She’d already seen the parade of people with problems who came through Leo’s office and left convinced their affairs were in good hands. Maybe they weren’t the kind of cases Henderson, Dawes and Henderson dealt with, but they were important to the people involved.

“Ah, well, no use looking back. I’ve made my decision. It’s time to retire.” As if to belie his words, Leo sat down with a sheaf of papers from the discovery box and began going through them. “How did you make out with Thomas’s parents yesterday?”

Now it was her turn to sigh. “Not bad, although I’m not sure I’d have gotten anything out of them if not for the combined efforts of Trey and Bishop Amos. And even at that, the family didn’t have anything really helpful to say. I think the father would have jumped at a plea bargain, not that one will be offered, just to have it over with.”

“I suspect his feelings are more complicated than that. Being separate from the world, living humbly-those things are the essence of the Amish. To be caught up in the English legal system and find themselves on the front page of the paper…”

Leo shoved his glasses up on his white hair and nodded toward the morning paper on the edge of his desk. The front page bore a photo of Trey pulling the Esch children away from the press. “Trey has a certain amount in common with the Amish in that respect. I don’t suppose he’s any too happy this morning to see that picture.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Trey insists he doesn’t want to be involved. Declares he’s only in it to protect Geneva. But the instant he saw those children surrounded by reporters, he charged in like Sir Galahad.”

Leo chuckled. “That’s Trey all right. He inherited his mother’s caring combined with his father’s sense of duty. That can put a heavy load on a person, trying to take responsibility for everyone else all the time.”

“Not everyone wants to be taken care of.” The words came out sharply enough that she was afraid she’d given herself away.

Leo slid his glasses into place and gave her a speculative glance. “I suppose that’s true, but you’d have a hard time convincing Trey of that.”

She didn’t intend to try, but maybe it was time to change the subject. This one was getting into uncomfortable territory. Her feelings on that subject went too deep-back to her mother’s death, back to her sense of abandonment when her father sent her away. She’d survived by learning to stand on her own. Independence was a good thing. She didn’t want, or need, to lean on anyone.

“Trey is going to exercise his need to take care of people by helping me interview the Amish kids that Thomas runs around with, especially those who were at that party. And I have to talk to the English kids, as well.” English -she was starting to talk like these people. “I notice the police interviewed a man named Charles Fulton. Apparently he was an on-again/off-again boyfriend of Cherry’s. Do you know anything about him?”

“Chip Fulton? I know who he is. Trey might be able to tell you more, since he’s closer in age.”