The Professor (McMurtrie and Drake Legal Thrillers #1)(32)

“That went well,” Rick said, but Dawn ignored him, got up from the booth and walked over to the counter.

He saw her get the attention of Ms Newton, who walked over and folded her arms. She started talking and Rick could tell that Wilma Newton was listening. Once during their conversation, Ms Newton pointed her finger at Rick. When she did, Dawn looked over and gave Rick a long look as if she were sizing him up. When she turned back to Ms Newton, they both laughed and Rick got a little self-conscious. What the hell? Five minutes later, Dawn sat back down.

“She said she’ll talk to us when she gets off. Around 10 or so. If no one’s in the place at 9.45 and all her cleaning’s done, she’ll come over then.” She smiled proudly and looked at Rick, who was impressed.

“Well, how, might I ask, did you pull it off?”

Dawn grinned. “Promise you won’t be mad?”

“Yes, promise. How’d you do it?”

“I told her to forgive you. That you couldn’t help coming across like a jackass. It was just natural. I had begged you to call ahead, so we wouldn’t startle her like we obviously did. But that, you know, since we were already here, we’d really like to talk with her. We represent this poor lady whose whole family died in the wreck and are just trying to help her out.”

“And that worked?”

“Yeah, partner, it did.”

“What about when y’all looked over at me and laughed. What was that all about?”

“Oh, that. Well, after she agreed to talk with us, she looked at you and said, ‘Kinda cute for a jackass, ain’t he?’” She laughed when she finished and Rick smiled.

“Well, partner, I’m impressed,” he said, saluting her with his glass.

“You should be.”



Good as her word, at around 10pm, Wilma Newton walked over and sat down next to Dawn. She looked tired, her eyes a little red at the edges.

“Like I said earlier, I told the damn reporters everything I know, which wasn’t much. But, if y’all have some questions, go ahead and shoot.” She made almost all of her comments with her head cocked to the side, looking at Dawn. Rick nodded at Dawn to start things off.

“Thanks again, Ms Newton, we know you must be tired. I guess we were first wondering how long Mr Newton, Harold that is, had been working for Willistone prior to the accident.”

“Well, Dewey – nobody’s ever called him Harold as far as I know – started there in–” she paused, turning her eyes upward, thinking “–probably around 2003. We bought the house in ’04, so it had to be late ’03. It was our first house...” She stopped, and Rick saw a tear running down her cheek. “I’m sorry. I haven’t talked about this in a while. It’s just... it’s hard, you know, I got two girls at home. Daddy’s girls both of them. They...” Now there was a steady stream of tears.

Dawn unfolded the napkin containing her silverware and handed it to Wilma, who dabbed her eyes.

“Would y’all like some coffee?” Wilma asked. Rick could tell that maybe Ms Newton wanted a minute to gather herself so he accepted, as did Dawn.

A few minutes later, she was back with three hot cups of coffee, a small layer of smoke hanging over the top of each cup like fog lifting from the morning. The coffee smelled good and tasted better. There was something about a cup of coffee from a place like this, Rick thought. It was probably just Folgers or Maxwell House, but somehow it tasted better.

“Well, what other questions do y’all have?” Wilma asked, smiling, though Rick could still tell that she had been crying.

“What sort of schedule did your husband keep at Willistone?” Rick finally piped in, hoping he hadn’t jumped the gun.

She looked at him a long time before answering.

“Who did you say y’all represent?” she finally asked.

“Our client is Ruth Ann Wilcox. Ruth Ann’s daughter, granddaughter and son-in-law were killed in the wreck. She wants some answers about what happened, and I’m sure you do too.”

“Dewey was a good driver. I just can’t believe this was all his fault,” she said in an accusing voice directed at Rick.

Rick did not immediately reply. Handle this with care.

“Ms Newton, here is a copy of the accident report.” Rick reached into his pocket and slid the report over. He gave Wilma several seconds to review it. In a quiet voice, he continued.

“The accident report shows your husband going 80 miles per hour at the time of the accident. The speed limit was 65.” Rick paused, and placed both hands around his coffee cup. “We came here tonight to find out if you knew of any reason why Dewey would have been speeding on the morning of the accident. That’s why I asked about his schedule with Willistone.”

Wilma stared at the report. “Well, I just...” She stopped, appearing flustered. “Damnit,” she whispered under her breath.

“Ms Newton, please. We’re trying to figure out...”

“It was pretty hectic,” she said, meeting Rick’s eye. “Dewey’s schedule was hectic.”

“How so?” Rick returned. Keep her going.

“I... I don’t know. It was hectic.” She stopped and looked down again. She’s stalling. Why? Rick wondered.

“Was Dewey’s driving schedule difficult for him to meet?” Rick asked.