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At the top of the stairs to the second floor of the courthouse, Hawke spotted Mr. Wordell sitting on a wooden bench outside the D.A.’s Office.
“You’re going to have a long day,” Hawke said, stopping in front of the man.
He shrugged. “She’s worth it.”
Hawke nodded and entered the D.A.’s Office.
“Trooper Hawke, what brings you here this morning?” Terri asked, her smile not as welcoming as in the past.
“I’d like to speak with Mr. Lange and Thomas Ball.”
Her eyes widened before she picked up the phone and punched a button. “Mr. Lange, Trooper Hawke would like to speak with you?” She listened and her cheeks reddened. “He didn’t say what it was about.” She listened a few more seconds and hung up the phone.
She cleared her throat. “He said, make an appointment and come back tomorrow.”
Hawke glanced at the door. “Does he have someone in there?”
Terri shook her head.
Hawke glance down at the phone and didn’t see any buttons lit up. “And he’s not on the phone?”
“Correct.”
Hawke walked by the desk and shoved the D.A.’s office door open.
“What are you doing barging in here?” Lange came up out of his chair. His face was red and contorted in anger.
“I’m investigating two homicides, and you are going to talk to me because you are in the middle of them.” Hawke dropped his hat in the chair and stepped up to the desk, putting both hands palm down and leaning toward the smaller man. “I want straight answers. Two people are dead, and your receptionist could be in danger.”
Lange’s eyes widened. “Terri? Why?” He dropped into his chair behind the desk.
“Dennis Brooks, last night’s victim, was in here yesterday asking her for my phone number.”
“Why would Dennis want your number?” Lange’s dark eyebrows rose, curling over his eyes like bushy caterpillars.
“I’d been to see him about a phone number Duane Sigler called. A private number listed with the county court.” Hawke studied the man. He didn’t flinch from the accusation. It appeared he was searching his mind. “He wouldn’t give me the name of the person who had the number without a search warrant.”
“Why didn’t you ask me for one?” Lange leaned back and stared at him. “Because you didn’t think I’d cooperate. Trooper, I’ve told you, I have nothing to do with the death of Duane Sigler. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to clear my name.”
“Terri said she didn’t tell anyone about Dennis’ request. She also said that your investigator, Thomas Ball, walked through the outer office while Dennis was asking for my number.”
Lange leaned forward. “Thomas and I have worked together for a lot of years. He’d never kill anyone or try to frame me.”
“Are you sure?” Hawke had seen best friends and lovers turn on one another over jealousy and greed.
“Yes.”
“Why would Travis Needham still have a phone issued to him from this county?” Hawke asked.
“He shouldn’t. Is that the number you were looking for?” Lange spun in his chair and pulled out a drawer in a file cabinet behind him.
“Yes. That’s the name that was with the number on the paper we found clutched in Brooks’ hand.”
Lange spun back around and plopped a file on his desk. “Right here, when Travis left, he turned in his phone, number...” he recited the number Hawke had been investigating.
“What happened to the phone?”
“It would have been assigned to the new Assistant D.A.” He glanced up. “Why didn’t the number have her name attached to it and not Travis’s?”
“I’ll have to ask her that question.” Hawke picked up his hat and sat down in the chair. The next round of questions needed a bit more tact.
Lange peered at him, his eyes questioning behind his glasses.
“How do you, Travis, and your ex-wife get along?”
The man visibly flinched. He pulled himself together before answering. “As well as could be expected when a young colleague captures your wife’s attention and she tells you you’ve grown into a curmudgeon at an early age.”
“Would there be any reason for them to want you undermined?”
Lange sat up straight. “What do you mean?”
“Look at the facts. Sigler had a hunting tag with your name on it and purchased with your credit card.”
“Is that why you insist I should have known about the tag?” Lange pulled his wallet out of an inside suit pocket. “Is this the number used?”
“I’m not sure.” Hawke pulled out his logbook and wrote the number down. “I’ll look it up on the fish and wildlife site.”
“Why else do you suspect Lorraine?”
“Your gun went missing and your ex-wife and ex-assistant both knew where you kept it. And now the phone that was assigned to Needham is the one Sigler called before he was killed.”
A thought struck Hawke. “Just a minute.” He scrolled through his contacts and found Sergeant Spruel’s number.
He hit dial and waited.
“Spruel.”
“Sir, it’s Hawke. Can you find out what happened with Dennis Brooks’ phone and have someone look to see what number called him last?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Hawke put his phone back in the holster on his belt.
“Do you think it will be the same number?”
“No. He’d know that number and know it was a trap.” Hawke knew his next words weren’t going to make the man happy. “I have a suspicion the call came from your phone.” He glanced at the one sitting on his desk. “What time did you leave here last night?”
“Around six-thirty as usual.”
“Was there any time when you weren’t at your desk after Terri had gone home for the day?” Whoever was framing the D.A. had to be in the courthouse.
“If this line of investigation is true then it wouldn’t be Lorraine and Travis.” He didn’t answer Hawke’s question.
“Were you away from your desk last evening?”
“I was up at Judge Vickers office coordinating court dates with his secretary after five.” His fingers flipped the pages on the bottom corner of his desk calendar.
If Judge Vickers was gone, why would his secretary stay after hours to fill in his calendar? He studied the D.A. The man wasn’t telling him everything. “She’ll tell me the same thing?”
The tips of his ears turned red, but he nodded his head once.
Hawke stood. “Keep all of this to yourself. I don’t want whoever is doing this to know I’ve been speaking with you.”
Lange nodded.
At the door, Hawke did a quick glance over his shoulder. The D.A. was picking up his cell phone. He’d bet his horse, Jack, that Lange was calling Judge Vickers’ secretary.
He walked out to Terri’s desk. “Is Thomas Ball in?”
She nodded.
Hawke didn’t wait for her to call the investigator. He strode over to the man’s door, knocked once, and walked in.
“Hey!” Ball slammed the phone down and stood at the same time. “What’s the idea of barging in here unannounced?”
“Keeping you on your toes.” Hawke sat down and opened his logbook. “Where were you Monday the twelfth from six to nine p.m.?”
“A week ago Monday?” Ball plopped back down in his chair. He wore his hair long, covering his collar. He had on a collared pull-over and a suit jacket with jeans and tennis shoes.
“Yes.” Hawke waited patiently.
“I believe I had pizza at the Pizza Oven in Prairie Creek that night.”
“Were you alone?”
The man grinned. “Not if I could help it.”
“Could I have the person’s name?” Hawke held his pen over his logbook.
“I wasn’t with any one person.” The man wasn’t being helpful.
“I’ll talk to the employees. What about last night between five and eight?” Hawke stared at the man.
His eyes twitched before he leaned forward. “Last night. I believe I was over at the Brewery. You know, the High Mountain Brewery, on the way toward Prairie Creek?”
“Anyone with you?” Hawke continued to wait for an answer to write down.
“It was a Monday night. There weren’t that many people sitting around shooting the bull.”
“Can you remember one or two?” The man was doing all he could to be evasive. That only made Hawke more sure he was hiding his whereabouts during the murders.
“I think Bud Trager was there. And Delwin Saxon.” He nodded. “Yeah, those are the ones I’m sure were there.”
Hawke wrote the names down and asked, “What did you think of Travis Needham?”
“Why are you asking about Travis?” The man responded without missing a beat.
Nothing about the man no longer working here or that he’d left a long time ago. Ball was fishing to see what Hawke knew.
“I’m digging into some history here at the courthouse. I’m trying to figure out why someone would kill Dennis Brooks.”
“I heard about that. I can’t imagine who would want to off that poor slob.”
“That’s disrespectful of the dead.” Hawke glared at the man. He didn’t like Thomas Ball. Dennis had been doing what was right and shouldn’t have lost his life over it. Shouldn’t have left behind a wife and two children.
“Sorry, Chief.”
Hawke stood and grabbed the investigator by the front of his shirt. It was rare a slur such as ‘chief’ raised his anger. This man had stretched his patience. “I’m not a chief. I’m a State Trooper. And I have the ability to put your ass in jail.” He tossed the man back in his chair, picked up his hat, and walked out of the office.
And Spruel thought he’d sent a level-headed officer to question people.
He walked over to Terri’s desk. “Is Ms. Wallen in?”
“Yes.”
Hawke strode to the assistant district attorney’s door, rapped once, and walked in.
Her head snapped up from where she’d been looking at documents spread across her desk.
“Trooper Hawke. Why are you interrupting my work?” She herded the papers into a pile and tucked them under a folder.
“Do you still have the cell phone given to you by the administrative department?” he asked, taking a seat in the chair in front of her desk.
“Yes. Why? Do you want to call me some time?” She raised one eyebrow and smiled.
“I’d like to see it.” He held out his hand.
She picked up the cell phone beside the landline phone on her desk. “I don’t understand why you need to see my phone.”
He took it from her, went to settings, and wrote the number down in his logbook. While there he also noted the numbers she’d called the night before. When he started to write them down, she came around the desk and took the phone from him.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“I’d like to know why you don’t have the phone number that was assigned to you?” He read off the number.
“I lost that phone, and they gave me a new one with a new number.”
She said it convincingly, but Hawke wasn’t falling for it. “Then why didn’t they have your new number on file in Administrative Services?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they forgot to write it down.” She sat back down, tucking her phone in a drawer. “What does my phone have to do with anything?”
“Where were you Monday, November twelfth between five and nine p.m.?” He poised his pen on his logbook.
“That was over a week ago. How should I know.” She stared over his shoulder.
“You could look on your phone’s calendar or the calendar on your desk and jog your memory.” He waited as she debated which one to look at.
Ms. Wallen flipped back a week in her desk calendar. “I was down in the basement looking for a couple of old cases that pertain to a county regulation that Judge Vickers asked me to look into.”
“That late at night?” It was his turn to raise an eyebrow.
“I didn’t want to dig around down there during the day.”
“Why not? What was so secretive?”
She gave him a half smile. “I didn’t want anyone to hear me screech when I ran into a spider.”
“You don’t have to be frightened of spiders.”
“Some bite and can make you sick.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust.
“A rattlesnake can bite and harm you, but they would rather slither off and catch a meal. A spider is the same. Both creatures are useful for their own reasons.” He didn’t see where a creature that could keep down the population of a nuisance could be harmful.
“You love your nasty creatures, and I’ll avoid them.” She stood. “Anything else? I need to be somewhere.”
“Where were you last night between five and eight p.m.?” he asked.
“Why are you asking me all of these questions?” Her aggravation was evident in the anger in her eyes and the way a muscle in her jaw twitched. “Wait a minute. Do you think I had something to do with the two homicides? That’s insane. I’m an Assistant D.A. I convict people who break the laws not commit crimes.” She laughed. It felt put on and not as if she were truly laughing at the absurdness but more the audacity of him even thinking such a thing.
“Everyone has a point at which they are willing to go against their beliefs to get something they desire.” He studied her.
“That may be so, but you won’t get me to tell you my desires.”
“I only want to know where you were last night from five to eight.”
“I was here until five-thirty and then I went home.” She stood. “Now, I need to go, or I’ll be late.”
Hawke stood, placed his logbook in his pocket, and left the office.
Terri stared at him. He winked at her and walked out into the hallway. The Assistant D.A. didn’t know it, but she’d just become his number one suspect to have called Dennis.