All Dressed in White (Under Suspicion #2)(17)

He opened the car door for her, then walked around to the opposite side and got in next to her. Before he could ask, she handed the driver Jeff and Meghan’s address in Brooklyn. “I may have mentioned that I always have time for you,” he said mildly.

“Oh, come on! I can’t remember the last time you left your office before six. I’m really surprised. How come you were available on such short notice?”

“This is what I get for dating a journalist—the third degree.” Alex laughed. “I did make a scheduled trial go away by getting most of the evidence suppressed.”

Dating. Of course we’re dating, she thought. There’s no other word for it.

“Well, I’m not surprised you won, and I’m grateful for the help,” she said, as he reached over and took her hand. It felt completely natural.

“Okay, Laurie, what’s going on in Brooklyn?”

“Do you remember the Runaway Bride case?”

Alex looked up briefly, scanning his memory. “Somewhere warm. Beautiful hotel. Florida?”

“Exactly. At the Grand Victoria in Palm Beach.”

“Whatever happened with that? As I recall, there were two theories at the time: either foul play or she got cold feet and took off.”

Laurie was realizing she was at a disadvantage for not having followed the story while it was hot. “Over five years without a word sounds like more than cold feet.”

“Nothing? No body ever found?”

Laurie was a journalist, the daughter of a cop, and the widow of an emergency room physician, but she still was not accustomed to Alex’s matter-of-fact approach to speaking about crime. “According to Amanda’s mother, there have been absolutely no new developments in all these years. I got the impression that police were divided—either she left voluntarily or was killed. But either way, they have stopped looking. It’s a cold case.”

“Meaning, right up your alley. And what’s in Brooklyn?”

“The would-be groom, Jeff Hunter.” Laurie quickly laid out the basic biography: Colby College, Fordham Law, a job with the Brooklyn Public Defender’s office since graduation. “This is when it gets interesting.” She told him about Amanda’s will, leaving her trust fund to her fiancé. “Amanda’s mother considers him our number one suspect.”

“Are you worried that because he’s a criminal defense attorney he’ll take the fifth, so to speak, and not do the show?”

“Exactly. Plus his wife’s a lawyer, too. Her name’s Meghan White. She practices immigration law, not criminal defense, but still—”

“Even if he’s willing, you’re concerned that she’ll try to stop him.”

“Or have her own reasons to clam up. Because here’s the thing: Meghan was Amanda’s best friend. She was also there at the Grand Victoria, so she’s a potential suspect, too. Marrying your best friend’s fiancé fifteen months after she disappeared? Seems a little quick to me. I thought since you speak their language, maybe you could help convince them to do the show.”

“I’m told I can be very persuasive. But do we even know if they’re home?”

“I left a message on both their phones. Obviously they talked to each other and then Jeff called me back. It took a lot of persuading, but he gave the okay for us to come.”

Alex leaned toward her until their shoulders touched.

“Palm Beach sounds like a good place to shoot, don’t you think, Counselor?” she asked him.


“I couldn’t agree more.”





20





The converted brownstone looked just as it had appeared when Laurie entered the address into Google Maps’ street-view function. It was a four-story walk-up. No doorman.

She pressed the buzzer for apartment B, marked “Hunter/White.” Though Amanda’s mother had referred to Meghan as “Mrs. Jeffrey Hunter,” Laurie knew Meghan had retained her maiden name. She had already rehearsed her introduction. She looked at Alex nervously as seconds passed in silence. He pressed the buzzer a second time.

“The intercom’s broken, Ms. Moran.” The voice came from the second floor above them. She recognized Jeff Hunter, his head out the window, from the LinkedIn profile picture Jerry had shown her. “Are you Alex Buckley?”

Laurie could see that Jeff was astonished.

“I just used your closing argument in the J. D. Martin case in a seminar for our new lawyers. Masterful stuff. Just masterful.”

Alex gave him a friendly wave. “That’s very flattering. Thank you.”

“Come on up.” He tossed out a key ring, which Alex caught in one hand. “Nice catch.”

As Alex unlocked the front door, Laurie said, “Did you see the way he looked at you? It’s like he’s a little kid and Derek Jeter just gave him an autograph.”

“That’s me: the Derek Jeter of law geeks.”

“See? I knew you’d come in handy.”

Jeff was waiting for them on the second floor, apartment door open. He was just about six feet tall with dark brown hair and intense hazel eyes.

“Come in please. I’m Jeff Hunter, by the way, but I guess you know that.” He shook Alex’s hand and then greeted Laurie.