The Trophy Hunter (4 page)

“They don’t make it easy for a man t’ do the
right thing.” Flannigan’s emotions appeared genuine, or he was one
damn good actor.

“What does the police report indicate? Is he
a person of interest?”

“Your friend Jessie’s got a copy. As I read
it, he’s not.”

“Then, what kind of evidence do you have that
I could use to convince a court that the children would be better
off with you and your wife? Or more importantly, what evidence that
they might be harmed by living with their father?”

“Ask Jessie. That’s what I’m payin’ her for.
Evidence.
” He pounded the desk for emphasis.

“I’ll do that. Then I’d like to visit with
your wife and grandchildren.”

“What for?” The hostility again, always
boiling just below the surface.

“I need to see if you’re all of the same
mind. Frankly, I need to find out how the children feel.”

The eruption Diana had expected didn’t
materialize. “I guess that’s reasonable,” was all he said.

“I’ll have my secretary draw up our standard
contract.” The words were out before she remembered it wasn’t
our.
Greg was gone. “I’ll need a retainer that will go into
my trust account and be drawn upon as used─”

“Okay, okay. I know the drill.” He pulled a
checkbook from his back pocket. “Five thou enough to get you
started?” He didn’t bother to ask her billing rate.

Diana nodded, watching him fill in the check
and tear it out. She hoped she wouldn’t regret taking on his case.
Something felt
off.
Flannigan handed her his check and
lurched out of the chair. Diana followed him as he lumbered to the
door.

“Do you have any idea why the authorities
don’t consider your son-in-law a person of interest in your
daughter’s disappearance? I mean, usually the husband tops the
list.”

He turned back toward her with a smirk.
“Guess Jessie didn’t tell you yet. He used to be a cop. They guard
their own dirty little secrets.”

Chapter 5

“Where’d you get this Flannigan character?”
asked Diana. She and Jess sat at a window table in Top of the
Rockies, preparing to enjoy a late lunch. Below them Denver’s
Christmas lights sparkled on new snow.

“Winston’s AA group,” replied Jess as she
zeroed in on a martini.

So much for confidentiality.
Diana,
still on painkillers, nursed a hot-buttered rum, minus the rum. “He
doesn’t seem like your kind of client. Or Winston’s.”

Winston Bell, Jess’s significant other for
the past several years, was a law professor at the University of
Denver. When Winston pushed for marriage, Jess ran like the devil
was after her. Although she knew Winston’s alcohol problem didn’t
originate during his relationship with Jess, Diana could well
imagine her friend─much as she loved her─driving a man to
drink.

“Joe’s just a good ole boy. Grows on you
after a while,” Jess smirked, “like warts.”

“So what’ve you found out? He told me to ask
you.”

Jess drained her glass and motioned for their
waiter before answering. “I took on Joe Flannigan as a favor to
Winston, okay? I said I’d do it and I’m keeping my word. But truth
is the guy creeps me out.”

“We’re in agreement there,” said Diana. As
she watched, Jess’s expression turned from mildly annoyed to
outright pissed as she focused on something behind Diana.

“Shit! If ever there was an argument against
commitment, there it is.”

Diana turned and saw Greg piloting Cathy
toward a table on the opposite side of the dining room. Diana’s
former secretary wore a short beige skirt and a sweater that clung
like a wet suit.

“Damn,” murmured Jess, “You can see her
nipples from here. What do you think? New boob job?”

Embarrassed, Diana turned back toward her own
table. But curiosity swiveled her around again. Something shiny
glinted on Cathy’s left hand. Diana could only imagine. She was
suddenly aware of her own newly naked third finger, left hand.

Jess offered her appraisal. “Cubic zirconium,
no doubt.”

“You’re just trying to make me feel good.”
Diana turned back toward Jess again, hoping the couple hadn’t
noticed her looking at them.

Jess started giggling. “Did you see the silly
grin on his face?”

“Like I care.”

Jess’s giggles increased. “He looks like the
guy from that E.D. ad. You know the one I mean?”

“No. Definitely no.”

“If there’s any justice in this world, he’ll
die of a priapism.”

“A
what
?”

“An erection lasting over four hours. You
must’ve seen them.”

“In his dreams,” muttered Diana.

“I meant the ads.”

Diana doubled over. “Oww. It hurts to
laugh.”

Their waiter set down steaming bowls of
chowder before them. And Jess’s second martini. He was cute,
thought Diana, about twenty-five. She watched Jess shoot him a
grin, along with a wicked wink.

“Shame on you,” scolded Diana after he had
left. “You made him blush.”

Jess ignored her comment. “Have you told your
mom yet?” she asked.

“Did you have to remind me that I
haven’t?”

“Well, you wanted to stop laughing. I guess
that did the trick.”

“I’m going to call her tonight,” said Diana.
“Let’s talk about Flannigan. Any history of abuse there?”

Jess shook her head as she started in on her
clam chowder, taking several spoonfuls before replying. “From what
I’ve been able to find out, one of the men from the hunting party
grabbed Flannigan’s granddaughter off the street in Westcliffe and
locked her up in a cabin he owns. Owned. The guy’s dead. Murdered.
The feds found him outside the cabin where he was holding her.”

“If first impressions mean anything, I’d give
my vote to Joe Flannigan. The nearest he came to a smile was when
he told me about the guy being dead.”

“But Brandi, the mother, could’ve done it as
well. That would give her a reason to run. As far as I know, the
weapon─they think it was a hunting knife─it hasn’t been found.”

Diana frowned. “Flannigan said there were
four other men in the group. Okay, there’s the dad, the dead guy,
and … who else?”

“Couple more regulars on the annual hunt. But
they’re not considered persons of interest.”

“Why not?” asked Diana.

Jess pointed toward the briefcase at her
feet. “It’s all in there. Have at it.”

Diana glanced down, and then asked, “Have you
met the kids?”

“No. Flannigan asked me to concentrate on
their father.” Jess paused to crumble crackers into her
chowder.

Diana laid down her spoon, gesturing for Jess
to continue. “Hey, I don’t need the dramatic effect here. What’ve
you got? Does
he
have any history of domestic abuse?”

Jess smiled enigmatically. “Darren Rogart
doesn’t have so much as a traffic ticket. Doesn’t drink, smoke or
do drugs. Just lots of good, clean, safe sex.”

“What?!”

“Ha! I knew that’d get your attention. Just
kidding. Or guessing.”

“Or wishful thinking? Seriously, you had my
attention. The sex part goes along with what Flannigan said. That
the guy’s a womanizer.”

“Flannigan’s probably just jealous. The kids
want to go back to their dad’s.”

“I thought you hadn’t met them.”

“I haven’t. It’s what Darren told me.”

“
Darren
?”

Jess shoved aside her empty bowl as the young
waiter brought hot sandwiches to the table, then hurried away.

“I had to interview him, didn’t I?” said
Jess. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I don’t like the silly grin I’m seeing on
your face. Jessie, you’re working for Flannigan.”

“Not any more.” Jess took a bite of Reuben
sandwich, then closed her eyes sensually.

“Damn it, Jessie. It’s a good thing you’re
not an attorney. You’d get disbarred if you pulled something like
this.”

“Only if I got caught.”

“I don’t believe you. No wonder Winston
drinks.” She regretted the words the instant they slipped out.

“He doesn’t and you know it. Not for
years.”

“Maybe he should.”

“Anyway, it’s a non-issue. I moved out this
week.” Jess squelched Diana’s sharp intake of breath and
disapproving frown. “Don’t even go there. I’ll talk about it when
I’m ready.”

They glared at each other; then ate in
silence for a couple of minutes. Diana broke the silence as she
remembered something Flannigan had said as he was leaving her
office. “This
Darren
is a cop?”

“Was,” replied Jess without looking up.

“As in quit? Got fired? Come on, help me out
here.” Diana snapped her fingers. “Disabled? No, I don’t think
so.”

This drew a grin out of Jess. “A misfortune
cost him his job,” she replied.

“Like what? You’re really pissing me off,
Jessie.”

“Okay, okay. He did some time.”

Diana would have shot up out of the chair had
it not been for the pinch of her recent stitches. “You said he
didn’t even have a traffic ticket.”

“Well, he doesn’t. This is different. This
wasn’t exactly a crime.”

“Somebody must’ve thought it was.”

Jess nodded slowly. “Are you familiar with
the Lacey Act?” she asked.

“Not really. It sounds vaguely familiar. But
… no.”

“It’s an archaic law that makes it a federal
crime to transport game killed out of season across a state line.
The man got jail time for shooting a sheep. Tell me that’s not
screwed-up logic when you consider all the violent crimes against
people
that can get a perp probation and a slap on the
wrist.”

Diana waited to comment until Jess looked
like she’d gotten a tether on her emotions. In a calmer voice Jess
concluded, “He was a Denver detective with a spotless record. That
bighorn ram cost him his job and his pension. And, Diana, it was a
victimless crime.”

“I don’t think the sheep would view it that
way,” Diana couldn’t resist commenting. “I do recall the Lacey Act
now. It’s supposed to protect wildlife from poachers.”

“Whatever,” said Jess with a dismissive flick
of her hand. “Darren’s not in that class. He was set up by Joe
Flannigan, I’m convinced of that. Here’s what I’ve got so far from
Custer County and the Feebs.” She bent down, took a file from her
briefcase, and then handed it to Diana.

Diana took the file, noting its thickness.
“Custer County?” she asked.

“That’s where Darren’s daughter was found and
his wife disappeared. Sangre de Cristos, near Westcliffe. Where the
good ole boys used to hunt every year.”

Diana felt an uneasiness stemming from Jess’s
shift in loyalties. “But they were Darren Rogart’s good ole boys,
according to Flannigan.”

“I have a big problem with Flannigan’s
credibility. I wish I’d never referred him to you.”

“Now you tell me.” Diana flipped through some
of the pages in Jess’s file without really reading them. “So, what
changed your mind?”

“According to Darren they were Joe’s buds.
Maybe he knew all the time where his granddaughter was.”

“What possible motive─”

Jess’s response, in an imitation of
Flannigan’s drawl, cut off her question. “Good ole boys often have
a hankerin’ for young things. Brandi Flannigan Rogart may have been
intimately familiar with this
hankerin’
and decided that the
buck stopped there. No pun intended.”

Chapter 6

By the time Diana finished lunch with Jess,
it was dark outside. Still snowing lightly, but not too cold. She
walked the block to her office building, hoping to build up her
strength. Small steps, she told herself. You will not let this beat
you down.

It was not such a bad thing to have this
muddled case Jess had thrust upon her, only to jerk it away by
undermining the client. Knowing she was using it as a distraction
from her own situation, Diana mentally replayed Jess’s words
regarding Flannigan. The possessiveness the man had exhibited
toward his daughter when Diana had interviewed him, along with the
depersonalization of the granddaughter, could be markers along a
path of abuse. She’d get a better read when she met the man’s wife
and the grandkids.

Inside her building, riding the elevator to
the ninth floor, Diana was only slightly winded from the walk. As
she entered her office suite, Tamara greeted her with a fistful of
messages.

“Oh, and your mother called three times. Am I
still not supposed to tell her anything?” Tamara’s eyes, behind
wire-rimmed glasses, chided her gently.

“I know I have to deal with telling her,”
Diana replied. Tamara was proving to be a good replacement for
Cathy. The voice of reason, without being pushy about it.

“If I could help, I would.” Tamara gave her
an earnest smile with no pity in it.

Pity was something Diana couldn’t deal with.
And it was bound to come pouring through the phone line as a result
of filling her mom in on all that had had happened since last
they’d talked. And advice. Advice on how she should have dealt with
Greg.

Tamara glanced up at the wall clock. Five
o’clock. “You want a ride home?” asked her secretary.

“No thanks,” replied Diana. “I’m going to
stay for a while.” She hefted the file she’d received from Jess.
“I’ve got some material to go over on the Flannigan case. Were you
able to set up an appointment with his wife and grandkids?”

“I’ve entered it on your calendar,” replied
Tamara as she put on her hooded winter coat and gathered up her
handbag and gloves. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you
home? You could read the file there.”

Diana smiled and shook her head. “I’m going
to stay and bite the bullet. Then when I get home, I can relax.”
Bite the bullet
meant calling her mother. She didn’t expect
Tamara to pick up on that. “Actually, there is something you could
do for me, but tomorrow would be fine.”