“Can I offer you a cup of coffee?” Jane Dougherty reached out and took Duncan’s and Adli’s coats.
The two men glanced at each other then Duncan said, “No thank you. I’m sorry we didn’t call first.”
While his wife hung the coats in a small closet near the front door, Joe stood in the foyer and watched in silence. He blinked and slowly rubbed the back of his neck, more uncomfortable than Duncan had ever seen him.
“Well, then, why don’t you join us in the kitchen,” Joe finally said then turned and walked down a short hallway.
As they followed, Duncan marveled at how luck had stepped over to his side when Sophie spotted Carl at the diner yesterday. His call to Trent had filled in the missing pieces. Trent readily admitted how, back when he first came to RGI, he’d gone to a bar with Carl and shared the story of what happened at Buzz’s house decades earlier. Tequila shots could be quite revealing.
By noon the next day, Duncan had uncovered phone records showing multiple calls made from Carl’s line to Joe over the course of the project. Alone, they proved nothing. Sophie had suggested that, as chairman of the zoning board, Adli be pulled into the loop. He’d come up with the idea for tonight’s surprise visit.
Joe motioned with a hand flip to the kitchen table and they sat down.
Adli wasted no time. “Joe, we have some concerns about foul play on the board with regard to RGI’s proposal.”
Jane neatened a pile of opened mail at the counter, but Duncan caught her nervous glances at her husband.
Joe ran a fingertip around the curved edge of the rounded table then shrugged. “Yeah, I remember the rumor.”
Adli reached into his breast pocket and removed the documents Sophie had acquired back in November and unfolded them. “Any idea what this is about?” He handed them to Joe, whose mustache twitched as he took them.
While he read, Jane loaded some dishes from the sink into the dishwasher, but kept glancing over her shoulder and smoothing her hair.
Duncan hadn’t forgotten Sophie’s suspicions about the woman’s possible involvement. “Jane?”
The plump woman fumbled the plate she’d been about to put in the dishwasher but regained control, slipped it in the slot and looked his way. “Yes?”
“Come take a look.” He motioned to the pages Joe held. “Do these mean anything to you?”
Jane stepped over, peeked at the papers. She shook her head, a jumpy gesture making her reddish-brown curls bounce.
Adli glanced at Duncan then turned to Joe. “Back at our December meeting, I found your ‘no’ vote a surprise. You and Buzz having problems?”
Joe’s lips locked zipper-tight, but a peep escaped from Jane.
“This is ridiculous,” she finally blurted out. “They know, Joe. Let’s not drag this out.” Her lower lip quivered as she fought tears. “I left those notes about the Jamiesons at the Gazette.”
Joe’s jaw dropped then his shoulders wilted. “I can’t live like this anymore. Yes, I know what’s behind those notes.”
Joe’s voice choked with tears as he unveiled a plan set in motion by Duncan’s assistant, Carl, to hire Joe to manipulate things behind the scenes in Northbridge. Carl’s plan stemmed from his knowledge of the Jamiesons’ Achilles’ heel in Northbridge and Trent’s prior bribery accusations at RGI. Joe had planted a rumor about bribery, easily exaggerated with the gossip mongers around town. Carl had hoped Trent would be under suspicion because of his past with Lake Simcoe and get fired.
“How could you, Joe?” Adli spoke softly, reminding Duncan how these men had known each other a lifetime.
The zoning board member stared at his folded hands. “Look, I didn’t want the project either so I figured Buzz might back off his interest in RGI’s investment out of fear his wife’s past would rise to the surface. Sophie was a perfect middleman. The press probing into this wouldn’t raise suspicions.”
Adli slowly shook his head. “You never should have taken that man’s money.”
A tear slipped down Joe’s cheek. “I’d lost my job. We almost lost the house. Those damn credit cards were easy cash, but then we had so much debt. More than a man should have at my age.” He slowly lowered his head, his shame obvious. “This was a way out. I’m sorry.”
Duncan felt bad for the guy, the circumstances enough to make anybody take desperate measures. Carl, on the other hand, had no good excuse and would pay for this.
* * * *
“Thanks, Derrick. Everything’s set. You guys did a great job.” Duncan hung up.
Hiring Derrick Martin’s private investigation firm had proven to be worth every cent. In the past, he’d used them when he suspected anything seedy about someone he had to deal with on a new property. Today’s dealing with the PI firm crossed a line between work and personal.
He’d asked Carl to come to his office when the workday ended. Duncan’s nerves pulsed, jittery with aggravation that an employee he’d trusted had worked against him. He suppressed an urge to punch the traitor right in the jaw.
He flipped through the mail to keep busy and a few minutes later, Carl swaggered in. “Hey, Boss.”
“Have a seat.” Duncan put the mail aside and pulled in front of him the neatened pile of damning evidence.
Carl plunked into his usual chair, comfortable and confident. “What’s up?”
Duncan handed off the small stack of phone records. “These highlighted calls should help answer your question.”
Carl looked at the data, but his face remained unreadable. He looked up.
“Recognize the number?” Duncan spoke firm, in his no-nonsense voice.
Carl blinked several times and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “One of the guys from Northbridge. Joe, I think. He had some questions about the project.
Duncan pushed a manila folder across the desk to Carl. “Why don’t you tell me what this is then?”
Carl hesitantly opened the folder, the way someone would if they expected a hornet to fly out. One by one, he turned each page of the contents. His skin paled from healthy beige to pasty white.
The photos, taken this morning by the PI firm, showed Carl and Joe in their booth at the same diner where Sophie had spotted them. According to Joe, his final payment from Carl would come when RGI formally withdrew from the project, which Duncan had already done. Joe, as part of the agreement to avoid charges against him, set the wheels in motion to meet with Carl for the payoff, done under surveillance.
“Why, Carl?” Duncan’s ire rose. “What’d you stand to gain from this?”
Carl’s posture shrunk and his gaze dimmed. “I left my other job because I wanted to run this place someday. The day you brought Trent into the firm, it changed everything. I wanted him fired.”
It occurred to Duncan how close Carl came to getting his wish when Duncan had a brief loss of faith in his brother. In hindsight, after Trent was handed more responsibility, Carl occasionally grumbled over the way Trent had handled certain work matters. Never would Duncan have dreamed, though, Carl’s hatred for Trent ran so deep.
Duncan recalled the one loose end. “One thing. How’d you get the Courant to write a damning report about Bernadette Felton?”
Carl looked out the window. “My buddy is the reporter who wrote the article. He’d just been hired by them, so I called the paper’s owner on your behalf. Said you wanted the guy to interview her and dig up anything he could to discredit the group.”
Duncan’s jaw clenched tight. Betrayal of this kind would not be tolerated. He lifted the phone handset and dialed. “Earl, you can come in now.” He hung up. “Security is on their way to escort you after you clean your office. It goes without saying you’re fired. I hired an auditor who’s been working with accounting. I know the cash you gave Joe came from our bank account. Expect to hear from the police. Now, get the hell out.”