Double Indemnity, page 18
“Yes, but not because I knew anything. Everyone from Matt’s company was questioned as well.”
Connor told her about the video he’d taken and the interview by Detective Norman. “That’s all I know,” he said.
“People in the congregation want to talk to you about the article.”
“Who?”
Michelle glanced down at the notepad in her hand and rattled off seven or eight names. Neither Elena nor Reg Bullock had called. At least not yet.
“I’ll see if our paper is here,” Michelle said, turning to walk back toward her desk.
A minute later, she returned with the newspaper. She spread it out so both she and Connor could read it. The article was the lead story on the front page.
The headline read “Local and State Law Enforcement Officers Investigate Death at Burnt Pine Tree Hunting Lodge.” Connor quickly skimmed the text. It gave basic background information about Matt and his company. The cause of death was described as “a gunshot wound to the abdomen.” The sentences that mentioned Connor stated: “Among those interviewed by the sheriff’s department was local minister Connor Grantham, who was on the property at the time and the only guest not employed by Daughbert Technology. According to official sources, Reverend Grantham is considered a person of interest to the investigation.”
“‘Official sources,’” Connor said, standing up. “And ‘person of interest’? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Slow down. I’m still reading,” Michelle said. “I’m not surprised they didn’t get the facts straight. Whenever I read something in the paper that I already know about there’s a mistake. ‘Person of interest’ sounds ominous.”
“Yeah,” Connor replied grimly. “I wish they hadn’t written that. I understand why people are calling the church.”
The light on Michelle’s phone blinked to signal an incoming call. She leaned over, answered it, and listened for a few seconds.
“Let me see if he’s available,” she said, placing the caller on hold.
“I assume you want to talk to Liz Acosta?”
“Yes.”
Connor went into his office.
“Have you seen the newspaper article?” she asked.
“Yes, and I don’t like the slant it takes.”
“Me either. According to my boss, this is only the first of several articles. More are coming.”
“How does he know that?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“That’s not very helpful.” Connor shifted in his chair. “This could create a huge problem for me.”
“I know, and I wish I could say more, but I can’t.”
Connor thought for a moment. “Would that change if I hired you to represent me?”
“No.”
“You don’t want to help?”
“No, no. I’m sorry. There’s nothing more I can say, but it’s not because I don’t care or wouldn’t want to help.”
“This doesn’t make sense.”
“Please, that’s all I can say. Has Elena called you yet?”
“No, but the phones have been busy here at the church.”
“Elena left me a message a few minutes ago. I’m sure you’ll hear from her.”
The call ended, leaving Connor frustrated and worried. His desk phone lit up again.
“Elena is on the phone,” Michelle said. “This is the second time she’s called in the past five minutes.”
“Put her through.”
* * *
Liz had delayed calling Connor because she was still trying to process what she’d learned from Harold Pollard when he came into her office two hours earlier.
“I have a scoop on an article that’s coming out in today’s newspaper,” Harold had said. “The investigation into the cause of Matt Thompson’s death is heating up. And once the insurance companies find out about it, they’ll put the brakes on any prompt payout to Elena Thompson.”
“What’s going to be in the article?”
“It mentions the existence of an investigation involving both the sheriff’s department and the GBI. Once the GBI is mentioned, that changes the public and legal perception of everything.”
A puzzled look on her face, Liz asked, “Does the reporter think Matt was murdered?”
“So far, the newspaper isn’t claiming that anything is going on except a criminal investigation. Our focus has to be on helping Elena Thompson. Technically, a murder doesn’t keep her from collecting the life insurance proceeds payable to her.”
“But it would nullify the double indemnity provisions.”
“What does the policy say?”
“I don’t know.”
“Let’s look at it.”
Liz left and returned with her laptop and a paper copy of the insurance policy that she gave to Harold.
The senior partner put on his reading glasses. “Typical language,” he said, placing the policy on his desk. “The double indemnity provision excludes death by natural causes, suicide, gross negligence of the decedent, or murder by a beneficiary or in collusion with someone else.”
“So Elena could still collect double if Matt was murdered?”
“As long as she didn’t kill him or have him killed.”
“What about the gross negligence exclusion?”
“Matt was certainly negligent in use of a firearm, but gross negligence—”
“Requires evidence of a conscious action in reckless disregard of safety,” Liz finished. “Like playing roulette with a loaded pistol.”
“Are they still using that example in law school?”
“Yeah.”
Liz thought for a moment. “What about Elena’s meeting in the morning? Do you think a GBI agent might show up too?”
“Possibly,” Harold said.
“If so, what should I do?”
“Be her lawyer.”
Liz felt her face flush.
“How’s your preparation going?” Harold asked.
Liz pulled up the file on her computer and read from some of her notes.
Harold cut her off. “That’s good,” he said. “You also need to let the client know that she’s going to be asked about the preacher who took the cell phone video you showed me. I knew that might possibly be a problem for us, but it may be a problem for him too.”
“Why? Reverend Grantham was just out for a walk in the woods. He does that all the time.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’ve visited the church several times. He’s mentioned going for hikes in his sermons.”
“But do you know that’s what the preacher was doing the day Thompson died?”
“Connor Grantham is a suspect?” Liz asked in disbelief.
“He’s going to be identified in the article as a ‘person of interest,’ which is a euphemism for a suspect.” Harold shook his head. “In my opinion suggesting that a local minister is a murder suspect is a far-fetched theory by overzealous law enforcement. But for whatever reason, that’s the way it’s going to be pitched in the newspaper. It could be a strategy to make a more serious suspect relax.”
Liz’s thoughts scattered in multiple directions. “The impact on Connor will be catastrophic. He could lose his job. Could you talk to Mr. Barnwell at the newspaper?”
“What would I say?”
Liz paused. “I don’t know,” she said.
“Look, the police are interested in every detail of Grantham’s whereabouts on the day Thompson died. Pat Barnwell told me the preacher was on the Burnt Pine Tree property without permission before and after the shooting incident. There’s supposedly other evidence that raises suspicions about his activities.”
“What other evidence?”
“Pat wouldn’t tell me. But the reporter working the story believes it may exist.”
Stunned, Liz didn’t know what to say.
Harold continued. “Pat also told me they’ve checked into Grantham’s background. He grew up in Atlanta and went to an Ivy League seminary.”
“That’s true.”
“And he comes across as the smartest person in the room.”
“Not true. He’s humble.” Liz bit her lower lip. “I need to talk to Connor.”
Harold raised his index finger in the air. “Be careful. Pat is a client and spoke to me confidentially. He knows we’re trying to help the widow and is sympathetic to our cause.”
“But—”
“I gave my word to Pat. We have to honor that. Let’s get back to what’s important. Given this new information, how are you going to prepare Elena for questions about the minister?”
Liz thought for a moment. “Tell her not to describe Connor Grantham as a male model.”
“She would say that?”
“I’ve already heard it from her lips.”
“You need to script Elena carefully and keep her comments as short as possible. That type of wording should be totally off-limits.”
“Easier said than done.” Liz hesitated before saying, “And Mr. Barnwell needs to be careful that he doesn’t print something about Connor Grantham that opens the door to a libel suit. As our client, you could tell him that.”
“Pat knows the rules. Everything will be attributed to sources, no speculation.”
“Speculation is all I’m hearing.”
Chapter 20
Connor held the phone away from his ear as Elena spewed out words like a fire hydrant. He’d given up trying to carry on a conversation with her about the article in the newspaper until the flow subsided.
“I know it’s hard—” he started again when she paused.
“‘Hard!’ That comes nowhere close to describing what I’m going through! Tomorrow morning, I have to be at Liz’s office to be interrogated by the detective who stirred up this whole thing. She says he’s the same one who questioned you at the hunting lodge. Tell me again what he asked you.”
Connor repeated what he remembered.
“To insinuate that you had something to do with Matt’s death is so insulting!” Elena replied. “That’s the crime! I’m sure this so-called detective will do the same thing with me. And when he does, I’m going to let him have it!”
“Discuss how to respond to the questions with Liz,” Connor said. “She’ll guide you.”
“I’m not going to let him or anyone else bully me! You have to be polite because you’re a minister. Look where it got you. What else did he ask you? Oh, and I hope it’s okay that I’m recording this call.”
“I thought you were going to let me know in advance.”
“I was so upset, I forgot.”
Elena said something Connor couldn’t make out.
“Are you alone?” he asked.
“Of course I am. I can’t be all calm and collected like you. Since we’re not meeting in person today, will you be available to talk to me tomorrow when I finish?”
Connor looked at the ceiling and offered up a silent plea for help. “Unless I’m on another call or meeting with someone. If so, leave a message with Michelle, and I’ll call you back.”
As soon as he finished with Elena, Connor started returning calls to members of the church who wanted to ask about the newspaper article. Most people weren’t contacting him for a detailed statement about his activities. They simply wanted reassurance that, as their minister, he was doing what he should, and there was nothing to worry about.
“I’m going to do everything I can to assist the sheriff’s department in their investigation,” he told one elderly lady. “If they want to talk to me again, I’ll be glad to do so.”
“Oh, so you’re trying to help them.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That makes me feel so much better.”
Connor returned ten other phone calls, six positive, four less so. People were understandably troubled by the “person of interest” statement, and Connor’s effort to reassure them that he wanted to help the police wasn’t going to be universally accepted.
“I believe in giving someone the benefit of the doubt, but you have to keep your nose cleaner than anyone else,” one man said.
Connor glanced at the box of tissues he kept in his office in case someone cried during a counseling session.
“You’re right,” he said. “Thanks for the reminder.”
On the way home, Connor didn’t dwell on his phone calls. He thought about Liz and the confusing conversation with her. He took a quick turn toward her apartment and soon after rang the bell.
“Come in,” Liz said, a look of surprise on her face.
“I should have texted or called.”
“No, it’s okay. Have you eaten supper?”
“I’m not here to barge in—”
“You did, but I’m glad to see you.”
Connor followed Liz into the small kitchen. There was a metal bowl on the counter with the makings of a salad beside it. She motioned for Connor to sit at the table. There was only one chair.
“I’m throwing together a salad. Would you like some grilled chicken on top?”
“Chicken would be great.”
Connor glanced around. The apartment was neat and uncluttered.
“I felt trapped earlier when we talked, and it’s been bothering me ever since,” Liz said as she cut up a tomato. “Our firm represents the newspaper, so there are aspects of the investigation I can’t discuss because they were shared in confidence with my boss by the publisher.”
Connor felt a knot in the pit of his stomach. “I’ve not done anything wrong,” he said.
“And I believe you. This is going to blow over and not become a big deal.”
Liz’s simple statement had more impact on Connor than anything he’d heard from members of the congregation. He leaned back in the chair and watched as she continued preparing the salad.
“Okay, no more discussion about that topic,” he said. “Would you like to go on a hike with me? I was thinking about Saturday?”
Liz lowered her knife to the counter and turned around. “Yes, I would.”
* * *
“Bring a chair from the living room,” she said after agreeing to join him for a hike. “The wooden one in the corner will be fine.”
“With the cushion on the seat?” Connor asked a moment later. “Is it an antique?”
“Only old. One of my aunts stitched the birds on the cushion.”
“I don’t want to sit in it. What if I drop a piece of salad?”
“I’ll risk it.”
Liz placed two bowls on the table and shook the bottle of dressing. “It’s homemade,” she said. “A mixture of spice and sweet.”
Connor generously doused his salad with dressing. Liz never prayed before she ate, but with Connor present, a prayer seemed to be in order. She thought about asking him but that would be cowardly. She folded her hands in front of her and closed her eyes.
“God, thank you for this food. Amen,” she said.
“I like that,” Connor said. “Direct and to the point.”
“Eat.” Liz pointed her fork at him. “You’re a minister, but you can only critique the salad, not the prayer.”
Connor took a bite. “Delicious,” he said.
“What do you like to fix for supper?” Liz asked.
Connor told her about his garden.
“More like Wendell Berry every day,” Liz replied.
“Maybe.” Connor grinned. “Let me tell you about some options for our hike.”
While they ate, he described several trails in the surrounding hills and mountains.
“You’ve been to all these places?” Liz asked.
“Multiple times.”
“Always alone?”
“Mostly.”
“I like the idea of a waterfall, even if it’s not huge.”
“That narrows it down.”
Connor told her about two destinations. Both sounded good to Liz. He finished one bowl of salad and ate another.
“I don’t have any dessert,” she said.
“That salad was plenty for me. Thanks again for opening the door and inviting me in.”
Liz smiled. “You’re welcome.”
Cleanup consisted of putting the bowls and utensils in the dishwasher. Connor helped.
“Do you have a busy day tomorrow?” he asked as he dried his hands on a towel.
“Yes.”
“Elena told me Detective Norman is going to question her at your office.”
“That’s the plan.”
“I told her to follow your advice.”
“I hope she heard you.”
After Connor left, Liz sat on the sofa in the living room and propped her feet up on a coffee table. Throughout the meal, she wasn’t thinking about trails and waterfalls but what might be printed in the newspaper. Connor’s interaction with Elena, even if entirely professional on his part, was a ticking bomb. But Liz didn’t know how to bring it up or what exactly to say if she did. So she kept silent.
* * *
The following morning, Liz arrived early at the office to continue getting ready for the interview that was scheduled for 10:00 a.m. Elena was supposed to arrive at 9:00 a.m. At 9:15 a.m., Liz buzzed Becky.
“No word from Elena Thompson?” Liz asked. “She was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago.”
“Do you want me to call her?”
“I’ll do it.”
Liz called Elena’s cell number and left a message. There was no answer at the home number either. Getting nervous, Liz left her office, went to Jessica’s desk, and told her what was going on.
“Sometimes you have to tell clients to come a lot earlier than you need them because they’re likely going to be late.”
“I did that, and Elena has always been prompt to her appointments.”
“But she wasn’t going to be questioned by a detective from the sheriff’s department.”
“Yeah, I should have thought about that.”
Jessica glanced past Liz and spoke in a softer voice. “I’m sure you read the article in the newspaper about Matt Thompson’s death. I didn’t like the way they made it sound like Connor Grantham may have something to do with it. Calling him a ‘person of interest.’ I know they’re trying to sell a few more copies of that fire-starter of a paper, but it hit me the wrong way.”
