While Justice Sleeps(59)
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he asked me to.” Refusing to elaborate, she shifted gears. “Do either of you know what VGC is?”
“VGC?” Noah repeated. “Never heard of it.”
Avery glanced over at Jared. “VGC? Ever hear about it from your father?”
He mulled over the initials, but shook his head. “No, it’s not familiar. What does it stand for?”
“I was hoping you could tell me.” Stymied, she sank against the couch. “The initials were on the list of access codes in the envelope Noah gave me for the house,” she explained, her mind clicking through possibilities. “One set controlled the alarm. I used the second set to open the safe. But the third line of numbers just referred to VGC. There’s nothing at the Court with those initials, and it doesn’t sound like any bank I’ve heard of. We need to figure out what it leads to.”
“Can I see the paper, Avery?” Jared asked quietly.
“No.”
“Come on.” His mouth tightened. “I swear I didn’t attack you, and I don’t plan to steal the codes.” He leaned forward, bringing his face closer, his eyes direct. “I have absolutely no interest in going inside his house, now or ever.”
“I meant no, you can’t see the paper because whoever hit me stole it from my purse.”
“So we have no codes and no idea what the codes opened,” Jared summarized. “Or any way to figure out what VGC is.”
“Actually, I do have the codes.” When both men looked at her expectantly, Avery explained vaguely: “Look, I have a very good memory. If we can figure out what VGC stands for, I can get us in.”
“Do you have a place for us to start?” Jared wondered, his skepticism obvious. “Or are we shooting in the dark?”
“I’d say it’s a bit of both,” she confessed, the plan forming as she spoke. Junkies liked to hide their stash and their tools. Part paranoia, part selfishness. She’d learned how to scope out niches and ferret out the contraband. Locating a dying man’s hiding place shouldn’t be any different. “Jared, who has your mother’s belongings?”
“Why?”
“VGC is either a personal reference or a professional one. If it’s personal, the best place to start is the beginning. Photos, letters, anything that can give us a hint.”
The haunted look came and went almost unnoticed. “My aunt Laurette kept most of the boxes the judge sent over. She stored them in the attic at her house in Arlington.” He nodded once. “I’ll head over now.”
“Noah, I’ll need you to comb through the will and codicils. Look for any beneficiary with those initials. Also, verify that he didn’t have a safe-deposit box at a bank in Virginia. Hell, while you’re at it, try Vancouver or”—she paused, recalling the images of national parks in the corridor—“or any state or federal park with those initials. Look for nearby banks or any property he owned.”
“You’re talking about hours of work, Avery. Several days of work, really.”
She raised a brow. “Lowry Kihneman has half a dozen summer associates who are doing sophisticated filing jobs. Assign them to a case that will actually generate billable hours.” Knowing how the process worked, she said the magic words: “I’m authorizing this as Justice Wynn’s guardian. Figuring out VGC has to be our priority. Work fast.”
* * *
—
Avery stepped off the curb outside the coffee shop and lifted her hand for a taxi. A car pulled up, and she climbed inside and gave her destination. Once the cab merged into traffic, she reached for her phone and dialed. “Mrs. Starnes?”
“Avery?” Debi Starnes snapped her fingers to get Mary’s attention. “Avery, honey, we heard you decided to take a leave of absence while you help Justice Wynn.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Avery confirmed. “My new responsibilities will require most of my time, and with the end of term so near, the Chief agreed that I wouldn’t be missed.”
“Of course you’ll be missed,” Debi argued loyally. “Why, I was just telling Mary how valuable you were to Justice Wynn. It’s no wonder he asked you to look out for him.”
No wonder? It’s a complete mystery, Avery thought derisively. “I appreciate the vote of confidence. Please let me know if you hear anything I should worry about.”
“Will do.” Mary lifted a sheet of paper and jabbed at the words she’d scribbled across it. Debi pursed her lips, deciding if she should tell. When Mary looked close to exploding, Debi caved. “Um, Avery, honey?”
“Ma’am?”
She hated delivering bad news. Gossip felt different on the tongue than disaster. “A woman showed up here around lunchtime. Sorta pretty, with dark red hair. Real disheveled though and, uh, a bit hungover, if you get my meaning.”
Avery braced for the news, her headache reaching a crescendo. “Who was she?”
“Well, honey, she said she was your mother.” Debi glanced furtively at the Chief’s closed door. “I got the call and told the Chief. They were about to send her away, but with all that’s going on right now, I figured better run it up the chain. The Chief agreed, and they’re in her office chatting up a storm.”