The Trophy Hunter (8 page)

Rena shook her head, looked out the window
into the backyard. She crossed her arms, and her fingers clawed
upward at the long sleeves of her dress. Diana glimpsed what
appeared to be a large bruise on the woman’s right arm.

“You’re welcome to see their rooms, so you
can tell we provide a good home for ‘em,” offered Joe.

Diana felt her anger heighten as she
considered the implications of Rena Flannigan’s reticence, along
with the bruise on her arm. “I asked to see the children, Mr.
Flannigan. Not their rooms.”

The look that crossed his face made Diana
move instinctively away. She watched the same tide of rage she’d
observed in her office sweep over him. Only this time, the sound of
a phone ringing halted his outburst. He picked up the instrument on
the counter top, turning away from both women as he did so.

“Won’t you have some coffee?” Rena’s soft
voice pleaded over Joe’s phone conversation, blurring the sound of
his words.

“Quiet,” growled Flannigan at his wife. Diana
noticed that she didn’t even blink. “I’ll take this in the other
room,” he continued, laying down the phone. He gave his wife a
malevolent stare as he left the room.

Rena set two mugs of hot coffee on the table,
then sat down opposite Diana. “Joe don’t mean no harm,” she began.
“He’s hurtin’ somthin’ terrible. Brandi was our one-and-only.”

Was?
Rena must think her daughter’s
dead, too.

“What about your pain, Mrs. Flannigan?” asked
Diana, her eyes traveling to the woman’s right arm. But now it was
covered by the sleeve of her dress.

“I sometimes think we women bear ours
better’n the men do. I miss my daughter ….” Rena’s voice trailed
away. A light seemed to shut off in her beautiful, dark eyes.

“You were close to your daughter?”

Rena nodded. “As close as he’d let us
be.”

He? Does she mean her husband or her
son-in-law?

Before Diana could articulate the question,
Joe Flannigan returned to the room. “The kids are messed up enough
as it is,” he said. “No need for you pokin’ a bunch of questions at
‘em.”

“You do realize that if we go to court, the
judge will be interviewing them?”

“I’ll deal with that when the time
comes.”

“Then you’ll be dealing through another
attorney,” replied Diana crisply. “I can’t handle your case. My
secretary will refund your retainer through the mail.”

Diana moved deliberately toward the door that
led back through the dining room.

“Who th’ hell do you think you are?” The
breath from his words was hot on her neck.

He was right behind her, following. Be calm,
she told herself as she looked back, relieved to see that he hadn’t
taken up some kind of weapon. Her last glimpse of Rena was of the
woman wiping up spilled coffee from the table, hands shaking like
leaves in a whirlwind.

Diana reached the living room without
breaking stride. She could still hear Flannigan behind her,
breathing heavily, mumbling under his breath. As she turned the
door handle, she heard him mutter, “Bitch!” Diana hurried through
the door, pulled it shut behind her, then ran the rest of the way
to her car. To hell with dignity.

Once inside her car, she immediately locked
the doors. She thought of Rena Flannigan, wishing she’d taken the
opportunity to at least give the woman her business card during
those few moments when Joe had been out of the room.

As she jammed the key into the ignition, a
flash of movement from one of the outbuildings caught her eye. She
turned in time to see a young girl in blue jeans run toward the
house. Small and fair-haired, she skittered like a frightened deer.
Diana suppressed a strong urge to get out of the car and go after
her.

As she drove away, Diana determined to call
Rena at a later date. Maybe if she could catch her when Joe wasn’t
around, Rena would be more forthcoming. Maybe then she’d be able to
speak with the children.

What for? You just removed yourself from the
case.

But something about the sad-faced woman, the
beautiful daughter, and the two young children─especially
thirteen-year-old Lori whose childhood had just been stolen─had
become imbedded in her heart.

Chapter 13

On the day following her Flannigan fracas,
Diana joined Jess in the dressing room of the Body Works Gym and
Spa, where they were regulars─Diana as a member, and Jess, a
part-time aerobics instructor.

Diana felt in the midst of catch twenty-two.
By quitting as Flannigan’s lawyer she had no legitimate reason for
access to the Rogart children, to assess their welfare. But, if
she’d stayed on the case as Flannigan’s legal counsel, she’d be
obliged to pursue his best interests. Short of Flannigan’s
announcement that he was contemplating a felony, Diana’s lips would
be sealed concerning anything she learned from him.

Now, she had every intention of picking
Jess’s brain on the subject. But the half dozen women in the
dressing room, in various stages of robbing or disrobing made
private conversation unlikely.

“Don’t you think you’re rushing things?”
asked Jess, eyeing Diana disapprovingly.

“I’m fine,” said Diana as she stripped off
her outer clothes and quickly pulled on loose gray sweats and a
white tank top before hanging up her blouse and business suit.
Though her new, oversized underpants hid the ugly scar, she was
aware of the remaining swelling. Her body had become a stranger
that she was uncomfortable to be seen with in public.

“That’s a crock of shit,” snapped Jess. “Keep
it up and you’ll end up back in the hospital.”

“I’m just going to do some step aerobics and
a little stationary bike.” Diana tried to smile, succeeded. “I can
feel my muscles turning to flab.”

Jess stretched lazily, like a big cat, then
sat down on a bench to put on her black Adidas. “How’re you coming
with the Flannigan custody suit?” she asked.

Good. She brought it up.

“I’m not. I quit him,” replied Diana as she
laced up her white Nikes, frowning as she tried to formulate
questions she could ask without violating her own client
confidentiality. After all, she had briefly represented Flannigan.
Or had she?

“A tad testy about it, aren’t we?” purred
Jess.

Diana looked hard at Jess, thinking she
seemed a bit too relaxed. She thought of Winston’s revelation.
Maybe the Jess-Rogart connection had cranked up a notch.

“Sounding a bit smug, aren’t we?” mocked
Diana. “So, is he really
that
good?”

“Who?”

“Rogart. Winston says you’re seeing the
guy.”

Jess’s expression turned unexpectedly
thoughtful. “I’m not really sure what to call it.” She looked
quickly at her watch. “Come on. I gotta start the class.”

Out in the gym, Jess presided over a class of
about fifteen women. The stereo boomed out her favorite
selections─classics resurrected from the eighties. Slow pieces
accompanied their warm-up stretches. Diana felt the pull on her
abdomen and allowed herself to do incomplete twists and bends.

Then things got serious. The Pointer Sisters’
“Jump For My Love” burst from the speakers, accelerating the pace.
As Jess led them in increasingly strenuous movement, Diana found
she couldn’t keep up─even if she stepped when the others jumped. In
less than fifteen minutes she was retreating to the strains of the
Bee Gees’ “Stayin’ Alive.”

Back in the dressing room, Diana, dripping
sweat, hunched over a bench. So much for exercise. Jess had been
right. She wasn’t ready. And she
really
wasn’t ready to get
in the shower where others could see the ugly, red, lumpy line that
now marred the body she used to think looked pretty damn good.

She must have wallowed in the funk of
self-pity longer than she realized─or dozed off─as Jess’s voice
roused her. “What’re you doing? Holding that bench down?”

Diana looked up, blinked and replied, “Just
letting the sweat dry.”

Jess snorted as she stepped out of her
leotard and underwear, grabbing a towel. “That’s what we have
showers for.”

Diana eyed Jess’s unmarred athlete’s body
enviously. “Some of us don’t have anything left to flaunt.”

“Flaunt?” Jess paused at the shower room
door. “You still hung up on your scar? Like anybody in here really
cares. We’re all women.
Hello!
”

This brought an involuntary giggle from
Diana. “Is that
all
women, as in O-I-L?” she shouted at
Jess.

“You’re better. I can tell,” yelled Jess over
the sound of the water.

Later, as Jess dried off, Diana bagged her
work clothes and put on her winter coat over her sweats. Then she
took a good look at what Jess was now wearing: skin-tight red lame
top with a black leather miniskirt and knee-high leopard boots with
four-inch heels.

“Anybody tell you Halloween was back in
October?” she asked.

Jess shrugged. “It’s my Colfax outfit.”

“Is business that bad?” Diana laughed aloud,
picturing Jess parading around Denver’s red light district.

“I’ve got a lead on a missing girl,” said
Jess. “It’s something I’m doing for Dare.”

“
Dare?
As in Darren Rogart?” Diana
raised an eyebrow.

Jess nodded, something uncharacteristically
sheepish creeping into her expression. “The daughter of a friend.
His time’s kind of tight now that he’s got his kids back.”

Diana dropped her bag of clothing. “You just
asked about the custody suit when you already knew it was dead in
the water?”

“Keep your voice down, okay?” Jess looked
around nervously as the room filled with women for the next class.
“He waited for them after school yesterday and just took them.
They’re so happy to be back with him.”

Diana frowned, remembering the streak of
teen-age girl she’d seen in the Flannigan’s back yard the day
before. That girl must have been Lori. She hadn’t been in school.
“You’ve met them by now?” asked Diana.

“Not yet. I’m really in no hurry to meet the
little darlings.”

Diana rolled her eyes as she picked up her
things and followed Jess out of the dressing room, walking slowly
across the gym toward the door to the parking lot. Then she
remembered something else. “I meant to bring your files back
tonight,” she began.

“That’s okay,” interrupted Jess, lengthening
her stride. “Whenever.”

“Did you give me the whole thing?” Diana
persisted as she hurried to catch up with Jess. “I mean, there was
so little on Rogart. I’d think he’d have a separate file.”

Jess flicked a hand dismissively, “You quit
Flannigan. Why would you care?”

Diana shrugged. “Just curious.” She plumbed
for a better reason. “Concerned about you, now that you two are an
item.”

Jess didn’t comment as she pushed open the
outside door and held it while Diana exited. Cold air hit them as
they crossed the parking lot. How un-Jess, to shut down the
conversation, thought Diana. Typically, she’d be the first to brag
about a conquest, like a guy might.

“Who’s the girl you’re looking for on
Colfax?” Diana tried to jump-start their dialogue.

“Remember the guy who had Darren’s daughter
stashed in the cabin?”

“Frozen dead guy?”

“You
did
read my report.”

“Why would
Darren
want to do him a
favor? I mean, he’s
dead.
”

“No, it’s for the guy’s widow. See, these
red-necks were all Joe’s buds before Darren ever knew them. He
feels sorry for the widow. The Strickland girl went missing the
same night as Lori.”

“That’s not what the police report says. It
says─”

“I know what it says, but that’s when it was
reported, not when she went missing. Darren thinks Joe and Larry
did some kind of a sick trade.”

Diana cringed at the thought. “Trade his
granddaughter for his buddy’s daughter? This just gets worse.”

“Does make you want to puke, doesn’t it?”

“Wouldn’t Darren’s children have told him if
there had been a strange girl in their grandparents’ house?” asked
Diana.

“Are you nuts? He wouldn’t keep her at the
house.”

The women approached their respective
vehicles, adjacently parked in the crowded lot.

Diana’s apprehension heightened as she
grabbed Jess’s elbow. “I think Darren may not be the person you
think he is. I was at the Flannigan house yesterday. As I was
leaving, I saw a small, blond girl run through the yard. I think it
was Lori, which means Darren didn’t take her from school. He lied
to you, Jess.”

Jess shrugged away from her grasp. “Patty
Strickland is a blonde. Maybe that’s who you saw.”

Under his wife’s nose? Is that
possible?
But Diana knew from past cases she’d handled that
victims of abuse will put up with the impossible─until something
snaps.

“Even if it was Lori,” continued Jess, “that
doesn’t mean Darren lied. She could’ve just been running back for
some of her stuff.”

Diana withdrew the car keys from her purse.
She shivered under her knee-length, down coat. “Are you working
with the cops or the Feebs on this?” she asked.

“Patty lived in Westcliffe. The Custer County
Sheriff considers her a runaway. As you know, she’s also considered
a person of interest in her dad’s murder. They’re dragging their
feet ‘cause Strickland wasn’t exactly popular in those parts.
That’s why Darren asked for my help.”

“Why would you be looking for her on Colfax
if Darren claims Joe has her?”

“We think she got away from him. She left a
message on Darren’s cell that got cut off in the middle. He called
in a favor from an old police buddy who had it traced to a pay
phone on Colfax.”

Diana pressed the release on her key ring and
the BMW’s lock clicked. “I sure hope he’s paying you well.”

Jess drew her fake fur coat more tightly
around her as she opened the Camaro’s door. “Like ex-cons can
really demand high wages. He lost his cop’s pension and everything,
Diana. But at least he’s trying.”