True to Harry’s word, the department had a marked police cruiser waiting for me when I got to the office. I signed it out and headed north toward Mehlville. When I got to Laura’s office, Detective Blatch was already outside waiting for me. He had a couple days’ worth of growth on his chin and bags under his eyes. His mouth opened in a wide yawn as I opened my door.
“Morning, Detective,” I said. “You look like you pulled an all-nighter.”
He grunted. “I did. Duke Trevino’s alibi checked out. He was drunk in a holding cell in Jefferson City at the time your victim died.”
I almost smiled. Councilman Rogers and his cronies wouldn’t like hearing that, so I looked forward to telling them.
“Did you find Laura’s fingerprints on any of the weed we found in her closet?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
“And you didn’t find fingerprints on the murder weapon, either.”
Blatch lowered his chin. “He’s a convicted drug dealer, and the weapon was beneath his mattress. He was a good suspect. I had good reason to pick him up.”
“I agree,” I said, nodding. “Laura’s actual killer probably thought the same thing when he framed him.”
Blatch looked to the office. “It’s elaborate for a frame.”
“It is, but it’s a good explanation for the evidence we have.”
Blatch considered and then swore under his breath.
“I hate that you’re probably right.”
“I get that a lot,” I said, winking as I walked to the office. It was closed, so I took out my cell phone and called Tina Babcock, Laura’s former assistant.
“Rojas and Associates,” she said. “We’re closed at the moment, but if you tell me what you need, I can refer you to another attorney.”
I furrowed my brow and looked down at the shadow cast on the sidewalk by the overhead awning.
“Do you get a referral fee for sending clients to other attorneys?” I asked. “Is that why you’re still answering the phone for Rojas and Associates, Ms. Babcock?”
Babcock sighed. “It’s you again. Like I told you before, I’m not interested in answering any of your questions unless you’ve got a search warrant. Good day, Detective.”
“I’ve got a warrant.”
Babcock hesitated. “I need to see it before I can talk.”
“That’s fine,” I said. “I’m outside your office with Detective Mathias Blatch of the St. Louis County Police Department right now. I’ll give you ten minutes before I pick the lock and go inside. Sound good to you?”
I didn’t wait for her to respond before hanging up. Blatch whistled and then chuckled.
“You’re mean in the morning.”
“It’s been a long morning,” I said. “I’ll get coffee at the Waffle House. You want anything?”
He shook his head, so I left him in front of the office and walked to the restaurant, where I ordered a large cup of coffee to go. The caffeine would do me some good. Since it was hot outside, I stayed in the restaurant and watched the parking lot. Tina Babcock’s white Kia Optima pulled in about ten minutes later, so I walked out to meet her. She read through the warrant.
“This says the court will appoint a special master to search our files.”
I nodded. “That’s the plan. In the meantime, I need to search her desk. We won’t read Laura’s files, but she’ll have personal items, I’m sure. If you’re comfortable with it, I’d like to ask you a few questions, too.”
She hesitated. “I’ll answer what I can, but I’m still limited by attorney-client privilege.”
“I understand,” I said. “Now please open the door. It’s hot as hell out here.”
Babcock nodded and let us in. The office had a musty aroma, and the wooden furniture looked well used. There were file boxes stacked along the rear wall and three desks inside. Babcock sat at the desk nearest the front window and crossed her arms while I looked around.
“There are three desks,” I said. “You have one, and Laura has one. Who has the third?”
She swung around on her chair and nodded to a desk adorned with a dead houseplant.
“It came with the office,” she said. “Laura talked about hiring a partner, but we never got around to it.”
I nodded. “Was she a good lawyer?”
Babcock paused, but then she nodded. “She was learning the ropes, and she had talent. She was an idealist, though. That makes the job hard.”
“What kind of idealistic things did she believe in?” asked Detective Blatch.
Babcock shrugged. “The shit they fill your head with in law school. She wanted to change the world. Instead, she helped couples file for divorce for three hundred bucks each.”
“Let’s talk about her caseload,” I said. “What was she working on?”
Babcock opened a drawer on her desk and pulled out a planner.
“Laura liked to keep a lot of balls in the air,” she said, flipping through pages. “The day before she died, she met a client about setting up a trust for his daughters. Before that, she helped a couple file for divorce.”
“Did she do any criminal law?” asked Blatch.
“Some. DUI defense and the occasional drug charge,” said Babcock, crossing her arms. “Is that a problem?”
“Only if it got her killed,” said Blatch. “Any of her clients give you the creeps?”
She snickered. “Plenty of them gave me the creeps, but none were murderers. She took whatever work came through the door, but we’re not high-profile here. We’ve got a slick website that makes us look fancier than we are, but Laura didn’t get many big cases.”
“Did she win her DUI and drug cases?” I asked.
Babcock turned. “She pled out a lot. When her clients didn’t plea, she won more trials than she lost.”
Blatch seemed to lose interest in the conversation because he moved around the room. I focused on Babcock still.
“Do you recognize the name Aldon McKenzie? He and Laura were in contact.”
Babcock sat straighter and blinked. “I’ve heard the name.”
Blatch looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
“What can you tell us about him?”
She looked at Detective Blatch out of the corner of her eye. “Before I say anything, I’d like to talk to an attorney.”
“Someone shot him in the head and then dumped his body in the Mississippi River,” I said. “A barge captain found his corpse near Cape Girardeau last night. Someone murdered his wife in her home in front of their daughter. If you know anything about that, you should talk to me now.”
Babcock covered her mouth. “Oh, my God.”
Detective Blatch walked toward Babcock’s desk and sat on the edge, his arms crossed.
“Praying’s not a bad idea, either,” said Blatch. “These are dangerous fellows your boss got involved with.”
“Mr. McKenzie was a client,” said Babcock. “Laura didn’t have a personal relationship with him.”
“Good,” I said. “He was a client. What kind of case did he hire Laura for?”
Babcock’s eyes fluttered, and she shook her head. “Laura never told me. It was something big, though. Laura was working on it all the time before she disappeared. She was down in St. Augustine a lot. That was where Aldon was from.”
“Are you sure they weren’t having an affair?” asked Blatch.
“Laura was discreet about the men in her life,” said Babcock, screwing up her face, “but I have a hard time imagining she’d date a client. She was a professional.”
“You can’t tell us anything about the case itself?”
“Laura didn’t tell me details about her cases,” she said, turning toward the back of the room. “Those files are all his, though.”
I followed her gaze to a stack of white cardboard banker boxes. There must have been ten. If they were all full of legal documents, it’d take us days to go through everything. I didn’t have that much time. Not only that, my warrant only allowed me to read her client files after an impartial attorney first saw them.
“Those won’t help,” I said. “I need something concrete. Even if you can’t tell me the details, you’ve got to tell me something. What was his case about? Remember, I’ve got three bodies down so far. If you know something, you might be our killer’s next target.”
“If I knew anything, I’d tell you,” she said, shaking her head. “Aldon came in about six weeks ago. He said he found us from our website. He and Laura talked while I was at lunch. After their meeting, he gave Laura a check for ten thousand dollars, and she got to work.”
“What did she do?” asked Blatch.
She sighed. “She was researching a pharmaceutical company called Reid Chemical. They’re in St. Augustine, and Aldon worked for them. He was a whistleblower. That’s all I know.”
Reid Chemical employed almost five hundred people in St. Augustine, making it the county’s second-largest employer after Waterford College. As I understood the company’s business model, they made drugs for private-label brands. Generic-drug makers rarely employed professional hitmen, but if Aldon threatened their business somehow, I could see him pissing people off.
“How about the names Austin Wright, Mike Brees, and Ruby Laskey? Laura had them written on a notepad in her briefcase at home.”
Babcock considered for a moment before nodding.
“They’re familiar,” she said before walking to her desk at the front of the office. She turned on her computer and typed a few minutes later. Then she looked up. “Laura interviewed each of them and billed the time to Aldon McKenzie.”
The tornado had destroyed all the forensic evidence at the campsite where Laura’s body was dumped, but I was getting somewhere. Motive, means, opportunity. If we found the person—or persons—with all three, we might have our killer, and at the moment, all my evidence pointed toward Reid Chemical. That was where I needed to go.
“Thank you for your time, Ms. Babcock,” I said, reaching into my purse. I pulled out a business card and handed it to her. “If you remember anything that can help me find out who killed Laura, you’ve got my number.”
She looked at the card. “What if somebody comes after me? Should I call you?”
“No. I’ll be too far away,” I said, shaking my head. “Call 911.”
She nodded and stuck the card in her purse. “Thank you.”
I told her it was no problem. Detective Blatch and I left a few moments after that. In the parking lot, he looked at me.
“You think calling 911 will help if these guys are after her?”
I considered and shook my head. “Based on what we’ve seen? No. If they’re after her, she’s better off calling a priest.”
“It’s good you kept that one to yourself,” he said. “You going to stay here?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “There’s nothing we can do here until the lawyers clear the office of privileged material. I’m not wasting my time babysitting. I’m going to Reid Chemical and throwing some shit at the fan.”