CHAPTER II

Gail Brevard sat back from the brief she was reviewing, hit Save, and stretched. She reached for a bowl of hard candies and popped one in her mouth, then rose and walked over to the window of her comfortable office suite, situated in an upper corner of the firm of Osterlitz and Brevard located on Main Street in the bustling town of Cathcart.

The late afternoon sky was filled with tell-tale yellowish-gray clouds threatening rain.

Or snow, she thought, shivering slightly and wrapping her arms around her upper body.

Erle would be thrilled if it snowed.

It had been a while since she had planned an outing with her brother. Maybe she could carve enough time out of her schedule to drive to their favorite sledding spot and spend an afternoon rollicking in the snow. Then back to town for hot chocolate before a roaring fire.

Her mother could certainly use the break.

Which led her down a tricky path.

Alberta Norris was a strong woman, both by nature and by need. When Gail’s younger brother was born, her parents were ecstatic. Here was the son and heir, destined to step into his father’s footsteps when the time came, and take over the helm of the family law firm.

Young Erle Stanley Norris was a beautiful infant, with thick dark curly hair and big bright blue eyes. People would stop Alberta in the street to coo at the baby as she trundled him about town, shopping and running errands.

But, as time went by, Erle didn’t change. He grew all right physically, as expected, into a handsome, sturdy young toddler. But the words were slow in coming and he had great difficulty in learning even basic skills. His attention span was short and the temper outbursts were frequent, including frightening episodes of head-banging and frothing at the mouth.

Joseph and Alberta Norris beat a steady path back and forth to the doctors that first year. And finally got the diagnosis everyone had dreaded. Erle was developmentally disabled. He would probably not advance mentally beyond the age of five or six. And he would need supervision and oversight for the rest of his natural life.

Erle Stanley Norris would never be able to live on his own—and he most certainly would never practice law.

Joe Norris took action. His attention turned to Gail, his eldest child, and he began a program of intense training and education which would prepare her for law school and, eventually, taking over his practice.

Gail had thrived on all that attention, and had responded with enthusiasm. She took Latin, as well as Spanish and French, and she doubled up on classes in history, sociology and English. She was president of the debating team in high school, and served as a representative to the State Junior Legislature. She graduated with Honors and began sifting through the many University offers that came her way.

And all the while there was Erle. Big, soft, gurgling Erle. And Alberta, in spite of the therapists’ recommendations to institutionalize him, stayed home and took care of him. She gave over her life to her son, and Joe Norris gradually faded into the background.

Yes, they still went places together and kept up the pretense of a social life. But for all intents and purposes, Alberta’s attention was focused solidly on Erle…and Joe’s was on Gail.

Somehow they made it work. But it had been difficult.

Now, in spite of her reluctance to admit it, Gail was certain she had detected the telltale signs of fatigue and aging in her mother.

Erle, physically an adult, could be a handful, particularly when things didn’t go his way. He didn’t throw tantrums as often these days, but he could be sullen and even menacing, if crossed.

When Gail worried aloud about the situation, Connie, her partner in all things, would stop her, saying in his no-nonsense way,

“For God’s sake, Gail. Let’s just move them in here…or sell this place and get a bigger one…or move your mother into assisted living and bring Erle here…something…anything to ease your mind.”

But Gail still wasn’t ready to confront Alberta about her fears.

So things remained in limbo.

* * * *

Reluctantly, and with a sigh, she returned to the computer and began reviewing again where she had left off.

The case in which she was immersed was complicated, and took her utmost attention…yet, she felt restless, almost bored somehow, by the mundane task at hand.

She shook her head, unwilling to succumb to the temptation to wrap it up for the day. There were still a few hours left in which she could make progress.

Just then she heard a commotion in the outer office. Loud voices erupted, punctuated by the door to the inner sanctum opening abruptly.

“Wait a moment, Sir. Do you have an appointment? You can’t just….”

“I can do anything I like, Miss,” was the harsh response.

Gail’s intercom crackled and Melanie the receptionist, high-pitched voice trembling, pleaded:

“Ms. Brevard, please come out at once…there is someone….”

She stood up as her door burst open.

A familiar face greeted her.

“Officer Hudson. What are you doing here?”

“Detective Hudson, to you, Counselor. I’m here on business.”

“What business?”

An icy finger of apprehension traced its way across her shoulders, but she stood firm and held the policeman’s eyes.

“Where is Damon Powell? I have business with him.”

“Damon? What on earth are you talking about? I don’t know if he’s in today or not. He sometimes attends classes this time of day.”

“I have a warrant for his arrest….”

“His arrest? You must be mistaken. He’s been a model citizen since…since his trial. You must know that. He’s been interning with us and working part time for Hugo for the past several years…and attending college.” She paused.

“In any case, I’m his attorney, and whatever business you have with Damon, you must take it up with me. Where’s the warrant?”

“I’ll take the question of his attorney up with Mr. Powell, himself, if you don’t mind. He can decide if he needs an attorney after I’ve read him his rights. Now where is he?”

Gail took a moment to gather her thoughts, taking in the hot-headed Charlie Hudson, dressed today in a navy blue suit and tie, and backed up by several burly uniformed officers milling about in the hallway. She wondered when he had been promoted…and why. Hudson was very much a loose cannon, a fact well-known by the legal community. He must have done a lot of apple-polishing to get in line for detective.

“Very well,” she said. “Let’s go over to Hugo’s office and see if he knows where Mr. Powell is working today…or if he’s attending classes. Follow me.”

Brushing past the glowering detective, Gail headed toward the back of the building where Hugo Goldthwaite maintained his offices.

The Goldthwaite Detective Agency was an independent contractor, and had many outside clients in Cathcart. But the proprietor, Hugo Goldthwaite, Jr., had a special arrangement and connection with Gail and her partner Conrad “Connie” Osterlitz.

His father, Hugo, Sr., now retired, had founded the firm years earlier. Father and son had worked on many cases with Gail and Connie, including the Damon Powell murder trial five years earlier. The detective agency leased its offices within the law firm as a matter of convenience to both, since they frequently worked cases together.

Gail considered Hugo her right-hand man in tricky circumstances. He had saved the day for them many times…and her life as well…on at least one occasion.

He was a tried and true colleague and friend, and he had taken on Damon and given him a job when it would have been difficult for the young man to find employment anywhere else. The position had worked out to everyone’s satisfaction, and now Damon was attending law school and interning for Gail in his spare time, with an eye to joining the firm after he passed the Bar.

Damon Powell had made a complete turn-around in his life, and was well on his way to a successful and meaningful career.

Hugo’s suite door was ajar, and glancing inside, Gail saw several of his operatives seated at a long work table near the window, going over files and comparing notes.

Leading Hudson through, Gail found Hugo working at the computer on his paper-strewn desk.

“Oh, hi, Gail….” He paused, taking in the detective and his back-up team. “What’s up?”

“Hugo, do you know what Damon’s schedule is today? Off…Detective Hudson needs to speak with him.”

She emphasized the word “Detective” with a raised eyebrow in Hudson’s direction.

“Damon? Well, he came in this morning. I don’t think he had any classes today, and he’s long back from lunch. Last time I saw him he was in the library, checking out some back cases for me. Shall I….”

He started to get to his feet, but Gail waved him back.

“That’s all right…we’ll find him. Thanks, Hugo…and would you see if Connie’s back from court yet? We may need his assistance here.”

She looked directly into Hugo’s eyes and shook her head slightly. Hugo nodded.

“Will do, Gail. And let me know if you need anything else.”

He gazed meaningfully at the police presence and reached for his phone.

“I’ll see if I can scare up Connie,” he added, punching in a speed dial number.

Gail waded back through the uniformed cops and led them all back down the hall toward the law library and conference room at the other end of the floor. Her mind was whirling as she went over the possibilities in her mind.

What on Earth could they want with Damon? She had to protect him, if at all possible, from any kind of railroading plot. There were still quite a few people in Cathcart who believed her client had escaped the earlier murder charges in some illegal way.

And unfortunately, that earlier murder had never been solved. After more than five years, it was now considered a “cold case.” And public opinion died hard.

The whole affair had been tough on Damon, who was little more than a snot-nosed kid at the time, trying to act as tough as he could. But Gail gave him credit for the fact that after the affair was settled in his favor, he had held his head high and moved on with his life as best he could. He ignored all the people who talked behind his back and was now expending every effort to make his future count for something positive.

But if Damon hadn’t committed the violent crime, as Gail thoroughly believed, then a savage monster could still be running around loose in the town, even after all this time had passed.

And that fact alone kept many in the local citizenry uneasy.

Although the rule of double jeopardy would prevent Damon from being tried for the original murder again, it would be extremely difficult to get him a fair trial for any new charges.

Gail took a deep breath, opened the library door and stepped aside to allow Detective Hudson and his cohorts to enter.

Seated at one end of a long oak conference table, near a window at the far end of the room, was Damon Powell. The books and papers he was consulting were scattered about. He had removed his jacket, his tie was pulled loose, and one stubborn lock of dark hair drooped over his forehead.

The young man appeared to be lost in his work, and, at first, paid no attention to the group of people entering the room. Charlie Hudson stopped abruptly in front of him, blocking the thin late afternoon light from the nearby window.

Looking up in puzzlement, Damon took in the police detective, uniformed cops in tow, grinning down at him.

“What…?” Damon began, but didn’t have a chance to finish his thought before Hudson interrupted him in a loud authoritative voice:

“Damon Powell. You are under the arrest for the murder of Marilyn Leeann Watson. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say will be taken down and may be used in a court of law. You may have an attorney present….”

Hudson rattled through the Miranda warning as Damon sat stunned.

“Marilyn? What is this? Some kind of a joke? She’s perfectly fine. We had dinner last night and I took her back to her father’s house. This must be a mistake….”

Gail moved forward as one of the policeman prodded Damon to his feet and pulled his hands back for cuffing.

“Damon,” she admonished him. “Listen to me carefully. Do not say anything at all unless I’m present or Connie is. You’re right. This has to be some kind of terrible mistake. We’ll get to the bottom of it as soon as possible.

“In the meantime…” she reached out her hand to Hudson and glanced quickly at the warrant he grudgingly handed her.

“…in the meantime, you’ll need to go with them. You know the drill, Damon. Don’t panic…and don’t say anything…not one word…unless I’m there!”

Conrad Osterlitz, followed by Hugo, was hurrying down the hall toward them as they exited the library, Damon being led out in handcuffs, and Hudson grinning broadly at all the consternation he’d caused.

“Gail! What on earth’s going on? What is the meaning of this, Charlie?” Connie glowered at Hudson.

Gail waved the warrant at Connie, who grabbed it and perused it thoroughly before handing it to Hugo to read.

She turned back to Hudson. “Where’s her father, Charlie? Have you talked to him? He could possibly give Damon an alibi….”

“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it, Counselor?”

Hudson gazed at them in satisfaction, before dropping his bombshell.

“Harold Watson has gone missing, Ms. Brevard. Presumably he was abducted from his home shortly after his daughter was brutally murdered. We have to assume Mr. Powell may have had something to do with his disappearance as well as the crime at hand.

“So, no. Your client, thus far, has no alibi.” He paused for effect before adding:

“And what’s more…the M.O. for this killing is exactly the same as for the murder of Vivian Seymour. Your Mr. Powell was a busy boy last night, Counselor. And I don’t think he’ll be able to worm his way out of this one quite as easily as he did before. People around here have very long memories.”

Gail stood back as Damon was led off.

“Well,” she said to Connie and Hugo. “Here’s another fine mess….”