R Jagger - Lawyer Trap

“Fine. We get him for her murder, then.”

Later that morning, Aspen shut her office door, dialed Teffinger, and told him everything she knew, including her theory that Derek Bennett sexually assaulted Rachel one night in her office. And then later cut her head off when she started to leave the firm, just to be absolutely sure that she didn’t change her mind about going to the police.

Teffinger asked her a lot of questions.

He was all over the board as if struggling with a way to fit it into a bigger picture.

He was almost about to hang up when he said, “What about the BMWs?”

“Oh, right, I almost forgot. Derek Bennett definitely has one of them, the one with Colorado plate number BMW 4.”

“Hold on, I’m writing it down…”

“By the way,” she added. “You can’t tell anybody about any of this.”

DAY TWELVE-SEPTEMBER 16

FRIDAY MORNING

Draven slowly muscled his way out of bed, the victim of too much alcohol last night. At first he couldn’t get his bearings, then recognized the farmhouse. Gretchen was already awake and making noise in the kitchen.

He couldn’t remember his mouth ever being this dry. He drank a full glass of water, then another.

It tasted like crap.

But already his tongue didn’t feel quite so much like sandpaper.

He took a hot shower and then Gretchen filled his stomach with pancakes and coffee, after which he started to feel like a human being again.

To top it off, she led him into the bedroom and gave him a really deep blowjob.

Yesterday had been a bitch, but someone must like him because everything turned out okay in the end. He managed to catch the woman, Mia Avila, before she made it down to Highway 119. Then he dragged her ass back to the cabin, beat the shit out of her and tied her to the bed.

With some effort, he finally managed to pry the hood of the car up and got the radiator filled with water. Then he put the bitch in the trunk, drove her to the farmhouse, pumped her full of drugs, and chained her securely in the cab of the tow truck in the barn.

He limped the Nissan back to Avis, explained what had happened, and learned that the damage was covered under rental insurance that they’d tacked on without him knowing it. He rented another car, this time a green VW Jetta, and picked Gretchen up downtown as if nothing had happened.

He’d celebrated by getting drunk with Gretchen last night.

She didn’t know they were celebrating.

She thought they were just having a good time.

That was yesterday. Now, today, he had all that behind him and was the owner of a happy gut and an even happier dick.

“So what’s the plan?” Gretchen asked.

He smiled and slapped her ass.

“Get in the car and you’ll find out.”

She wrestled him to the floor and pinned his arms above his head. “Why? Where we going?”

“Nowhere, if you don’t get off.”

“Not till you tell me.”

“Someplace you’re going to like.”

She rubbed her crotch on his chin.

“I’m already someplace I like.”

They took Highway 93 south into downtown Golden, where the air smelled like hops and barley. Draven found a liquor store-one with a sign in the window that said No Fresher Coors Sold Anywhere-and bought enough Jack to get them through the next few days. Then they took Old Golden Road east and ended up at a Lexus dealership across the street from the Colorado Mills Mall.

“What’s going on?” Gretchen asked as they pulled in.

Draven put a confused look on his face.

“I don’t know, but as long as we’re here why don’t we have a look around?”

He wore tattered jeans and a black muscle shirt that showed off his tattoo. Throw in the ponytail and the scar and he looked like the last person on the face of the earth who would want, or could afford, a Lexus. He chatted it up with the salesman and the manager, took a long test drive, and waited for a derogatory insinuation that he couldn’t afford it.

When he didn’t get it, he closed the deal, titled the car in Gretchen’s name, had funds wired in from one of his California bank accounts, and then strolled outside with his woman to drink coffee and wait while the dealership detailed the vehicle and gave it a final prep.

Gretchen’s face made it all worthwhile.

No one had ever done anything like this for her before.

Not once in her whole life.

Not even close.

“God are you going to get some sex tonight,” she said. “Be warned.” Then she hugged him tight and cried. He ran his fingers through her hair.

“I love you,” she said. “And not just because of the car.”

She kept her eyes down, as if afraid she might see a reaction on his face that she didn’t want to see.

He looked into her eyes.

“Me too,” he said.

“Really?”

He nodded. “I think I have from the start, to tell you the truth.”

She buried her head in his chest.

“Of course, I did have a second thought when you bashed that guy’s head in with a rock. But that was only for a moment.”

She punched him on the arm and said, “Not funny.” Then she looked into his eyes and said, “Till death do us part?”

He squeezed her.

“Sounds good to me.”

DAY TWELVE-SEPTEMBER 16

FRIDAY MORNING

While heading back to Denver from Pueblo, Teffinger couldn’t get away from maniac drivers to save his life. No matter what lane he was in, or how fast or slow he was going, the rearview mirror always showed some idiot riding his ass. An 18-wheeler looked like it was actually trying to get into the bed of Teffinger’s truck just as Katie Baxter called to report on her investigation of Chase’s apartment.

“We found an appointment book,” she said. “Unfortunately, nothing was written in it for the day she disappeared.”

“Figures.”

Teffinger swung into the high-speed lane.

The trucker followed.

Goddamn it.

“If I’m reading it right,” Katie said, “she did some freelance hooking on the side, but I wouldn’t say a lot. When she wrote those appointments down, she only used first names. Some had phone numbers and we’re checking them out. There are also some appointments for something called T amp;B, where time is blocked out, anywhere from four to eight hours.”

“T amp;B?” he asked.

“Right.”

For some reason that resonated in his brain.

“What’s that mean?”

“I don’t know. Tim and Bob?”

He smiled. “That’s not giving me a good visual,” he said. “Let’s make it Tina and Brenda.”

They hung up.

Katie called again thirty minutes later, just as Teffinger passed Castle Rock.

“Hey,” she said. “We found a scrap piece of paper that had a phone number for T amp;B. It turns out to be a place called Tops amp; Bottoms.”

“Thanks,” he said. “You just gave us another tie to our lawyer friend, Derek Bennett.”

Instead of going to the office, Teffinger and Sydney went straight to Tops amp; Bottoms and ended up meeting with a curvy, feminine woman with a soft voice and liquid blue eyes named Rose Abbott. They left an hour later with more than they hoped for. Teffinger also had a standing invitation for a free session with the lovely Ms. Abbott any time he wanted.

“We all have fantasies,” she said. “Even you.”

“Me?”

“Right.”

“What are my fantasies?”

She ran her fingers through his hair.

“You call me when you’re ready.”

Half an hour later, they sat in the reception area of Hogan, Slate amp; Dover, LLC, sipping coffee and waiting.

Teffinger wasn’t sure that this was the smartest thing to do.

His gut told him to slow down, stay hidden, get more evidence, maybe even enough to bring charges. His other gut told him to ignore his first gut, and to stomp on the guy now with the hope that he’d crawl under a rock and at least not hurt anyone else in the immediate future.