The Professor (McMurtrie and Drake Legal Thrillers #1)(38)



“You’re going to call her now?” Dawn asked.

“No time like the present.”

Dawn slowly read each digit of the phone number out loud, and Rick entered it in his phone. Then he waited. After six rings and no voice message, he ended the call.

“Just have to keep trying,” Rick muttered, setting the phone in the console between the seats. “We need to get on finding Dick Morris too. Carmichael said Morris has family in Faunsdale, and my friend Powell has some connections there. I’ll check with him if you’ll do an internet search.”

“Will do. What about Ms Bulyard?”

Rick started to answer, but then his cell phone started vibrating. He picked it up, and the caller ID was the number he’d just called. “It’s her,” he said, his heart pounding.

“Hello,” Rick answered, trying to sound calm.

“Yes, did you just try to call me?” A female voice.

“Yes, ma’am. Is this Faith Bulyard?”

“It is. Who is this?”

Rick’s eyes darted to Dawn, whose eyebrows were raised in anticipation. He nodded at her.

“Ms Bulyard, my name is Rick Drake. I’m a lawyer in Tuscaloosa and I represent a woman whose entire family was killed back in September in a trucking accident with a Willistone Trucking Company driver who was hauling Ultron Gasoline. I spoke with Hank Russell in Montgomery this afternoon, and he gave me your number as someone I should call.” Rick shrugged his shoulders at Dawn, and she gave him a thumbs-up.

“Jesus Christ,” Ms Bulyard said. Then, barely audible, she muttered, “Why can’t people just mind their own business.” She sighed and the irritation in her voice was palpable. “Look, I remember that accident, but only because my husband...” There was a pause, and Rick heard coughing on the other end of the line.

“Ms Bulyard...”

“... my husband died the night of that accident. He died in a fire.”

“I know, ma’am. And I’m so sorry.” Rick stopped, not sure what to say next.

“What do you want, Mr Drake?”

Rick sucked in a quick breath. “I want to meet with you, ma’am. Just for a few minutes, if that would be OK? I know you worked in record-keeping at Ultron, and I wanted to ask you a few questions.” Rick crossed his fingers and held his breath, while the other end of the line was silent for several seconds.

“I don’t know...” Another sigh. “I...”

“Fifteen minutes, Ms Bulyard. I doubt I’ll need longer than that.”

More silence. Then, finally, Faith Bulyard cleared her throat. “OK, but we are out of town this week on the boys’ spring break. Why don’t you call me again next week, and we can meet at the house.”

It was all Rick could do not to scream out loud. “Thank you, ma’am.”

When Ms Bulyard said “Bye,” Rick pressed “End” and looked at Dawn. “She’ll meet us next week.”

Dawn’s squeal must have lasted a full five seconds, and the sound was so genuinely happy that it warmed Rick’s whole body. It doesn’t mean anything yet, he told himself, trying to calm down. Just because she’s agreed to meet you doesn’t mean she knows anything helpful.

Still, it was a success after a day full of failures, and Rick wasn’t ready to throw water on it yet. He looked at Dawn. “Hey, are you hungry?”

“Starved,” she said, leaning forward.

“Then let’s go somewhere and get something. What do you say?”

When Dawn didn’t immediately answer, Rick’s spirits sank. Nice work, Drake. Next time your instincts say do something, just do the opposite.

“We don’t have to–” Rick began, but Dawn cut him off.

“I’d love to, Rick, but I really need to get home. My daughter...”

“Your daughter?”

They looked at each other, and Rick came to the harsh realization that he really didn’t know anything about Dawn. She’s a mom?

“Yes,” Dawn finally said. “My daughter. Julie. She’s five and my mother is watching her, but–” Dawn looked at her watch “–it’s almost 9, and I’d like to be there to tuck her in before bed. I wasn’t able to last night when we went to Boone’s Hill, and she didn’t sleep well.” Dawn stopped, and Rick could see that she was frustrated. “I’m sorry, I really wish I could...”

“Don’t apologize,” Rick said, his mind working overtime to try to find a solution. Then, like an oasis in the desert, the yellow and red lights of Taco Bell emerged in the distance.

“I think I know how we can fix this,” Rick said, smiling.



Fifteen minutes after going through the drive-through at Taco Bell, Rick pulled into Riverview Apartments, a small complex right outside of downtown Northport.

They walked to the second story of the first unit, and Dawn pulled out a key from her purse. “Here we are,” she said, opening the door to Apartment 124.

As they walked in, Dawn whispered, “Let me go check on Julie. Be right back,” and she disappeared down a short hallway. Rick sat down on a couch and waited. The room carried a pleasant, fruity scent, and Rick breathed it in. Smells like her, he thought.

A few moments later, Dawn returned, gave Rick a thumbs-up sign and plopped down on the couch next to him. “Asleep,” she said, letting out a sigh of relief. She was now wearing a pair of plaid flannel pajamas, and she smiled sheepishly at Rick. “I hope you don’t mind, but I had to get out of those clothes.”

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