The Perfect Alibi (Robin Lockwood #2)(38)

“Okay, here’s what I want you to do,” Robin said. “I’m coming over. Meanwhile, call 911 and tell them Blaine was outside your house. If he’s still there, the cops will either arrest him or he’ll run.”

Randi called the police, but the person who had been watching her house had vanished by the time the squad car arrived. Robin and Jeff showed up soon after and explained the situation to the two officers. When they drove away, Robin sat at the kitchen table with Maxine and Randi.

“Do you have someplace safe where you can stay?” Robin asked.

“My aunt,” Randi replied.

Maxine nodded. “Camille will put us up.”

“Good. Call her now. Then pack and go while Hastings is not around.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE


Marvin Turnbull had just come back from a contentious meeting with his board when Tyler Harrison called.

“I have bad news, Marvin,” Harrison said.

“What happened?”

“I called Frank Nylander in Portland on the Voss case. He’s dead, murdered.”

“You’re kidding?”

“I wish I were.”

“What happened?”

“He was killed in his office the evening he got back from our meeting.”

“Do they know who killed him?”

“I just talked to the receptionist. She told me that no one has been arrested.”

“Where does that leave the case?”

“It’s too early to say. Nylander had a good relationship with Voss. If anyone could convince him to settle, it would have been Frank.”

“Shit,” Turnbull muttered.

“Yeah,” Harrison agreed.

“So, what happens now?”

“Barring a miracle, we prepare for trial.”

“And the newspapers get hold of the story, which means we’re fucked.”

“I’m afraid so. I could try to get a gag order, but I had an associate research the question, and our chances would be almost zero.”

Turnbull’s end of the line went silent and Harrison waited.

“Voss will need a lawyer,” Turnbull said. “It will probably be someone in Nylander’s firm, but he could hire someone else. Either way, it will take a while for the new attorney to get up to speed, and that gives us time. Hell, a new lawyer might even be able to convince Voss to settle.”

“You’re right. If two lawyers advise the same thing, he might see the light.”

“This might work to our advantage, Tyler. Let me know what happens.”

“Will do,” Harrison said.

Turnbull disconnected and closed his eyes. The board had been informed about Leonard Voss’s refusal to settle, and they were in panic mode. Turnbull had sounded confident during his conversation with the firm’s attorney, but he was a realist. Voss was on a mission. He would never settle. If his lawsuit made headlines, the company would be ruined. More important, he would lose his job, and his stock would be worthless. Something had to be done, and he could see only one solution that would solve his and the company’s difficulties.



* * *



Ivar Gorski’s burner phone rang while he was in his motel room, performing katas, dancelike exercises that karate practitioners use to simulate combat. Gorski stopped in mid-kick and answered the call.

“We need to implement plan B,” Turnbull said.

Gorski hung up without saying anything in case someone was listening. He knew this wasn’t likely, but Gorski had stayed alive by being paranoid.

As soon as he ended the call, he continued his exercises. They calmed him and helped him think clearly. By the time he was showered and shaved, he had decided how he would carry out his mission.





CHAPTER THIRTY


Marsha Armstrong called Carrie Anders at seven in the morning on Tuesday.

“I just got a call from Saint Francis Medical Center. Doug’s there on the third floor. I’m getting ready to drive over.”

Carrie was headed to work, but she changed direction. Anders’s phone rang again just as she was about to get out of her car, in the hospital parking lot.

“Carrie?” Robin said.

“What’s up?” Anders replied.

“I wanted to give you a heads-up. Randi Stark called me last night. She was very upset. She thought she saw Blaine Hastings watching her house.”

“Is she sure it was Hastings?”

“No. She told me she saw a man from her bedroom window. He was about a block away, it was dark, and his face wasn’t illuminated. The best she can do is say that the person she saw had a build similar to Hastings’s.”

“Do you want me to have a car drive by tonight?”

“That won’t be necessary. They’re staying with a relative for a while.”

“Okay. Give Randi my number, and tell her to call if she thinks she’s in danger.”

“Will do.”

Marsha had not arrived when Anders walked into Reception, so she went to the nurses’ station on the third floor and had the doctor who was treating Armstrong paged.

Moments later, a young man wearing a white coat walked down the hall.

“Dr. Sanchez?” the detective asked as she flashed her ID.