Ozarks Missing Person, page 19
“Excuse me?” Harold Dennis asked coolly, his jaw set hard.
But Taylor was beyond caring. “He is not a dog. He has impeccable taste!”
Grace chanced a quick glance at Matthew. “What makes you say so, Ms. Greene?” Grace asked, sounding no more curious than someone asking how her day was going.
“Because I am the one who is having an affair with Nate Able. I am the woman he brought to the party.” Her voice trembled when she spoke, but Grace instantly recognized it shook from rage, not fear. “They’re lying.” She spat the word. “They have to lie because everyone knows he did it. Everyone knows he’s the reason she’s dead.”
Both Tyrone and Trey Powers began to speak at once, Tyrone in a placating voice, while his son’s was decidedly more disdainful. But it was Harold Dennis who barked the order for the insubordinate junior associate to take her seat and stop speaking.
To her credit, Taylor did neither.
“Everyone knows who did it? Who is the reason?” Grace prompted, her gaze fixed on Taylor.
“I told you,” she said, turning on Grace. “I told you about me and Nate. You know they’re lying.”
“I need you to tell me what happened to Mallory,” Grace replied, calm and even. “Who did what?”
“Ms. Greene,” Tyrone Powers said sternly as he rose from his chair.
She blinked, then looked at Trey’s father imploringly. When she spoke, her voice was barely more than a stunned whisper. “He left her there. He...left her there. Like she was nothing more than a piece of trash.”
Chapter Seventeen
Vitriol. Matthew had heard a lot of nasty things said about victims in the past, but seldom did he hear such vehement denials and denunciations of both Mallory and Taylor as he did in the sixty seconds after Taylor Greene’s whispered accusation.
He let the words roll over him for a minute more, absorbing some of their impact as his due. After all, he’d said similar things about Mallory.
“Scheming—”
“Liar, you didn’t see anything—”
“Why he would bother with anyone like you—”
“Your career is over, young lady. I will personally see to it no firm in this state—”
And so it went. Matthew didn’t even bother trying to track who was saying what. He was too focused on watching Trey Powers.
The other man sat silent and still, his mouth clamped shut tight. A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he didn’t speak another word.
Beside him, his previously serene father had turned into a whirlwind of bluff and bluster. Chaos reigned in the room, and only he, Grace and Trey seemed to stay above the fray. Or rather, below it, because everyone else had leaped from their chairs to start shouting over one another.
“My son was not involved with that woman,” Tyrone Powers bellowed.
Everyone fell quiet then, and Matthew dragged his attention from the son to the father. The elder Powers looked flustered—his neck and face florid above the collar of his white-on-white-striped collar and his hair falling onto his forehead.
“He was,” Taylor Greene shouted back, heedless of the sudden silence enveloping the room. “They were together. And it wasn’t a new thing. I saw the way they looked at each other. I saw the way they were talking at the party, all close and intense. Something was going on between them.”
“You’re fired,” the older man said bluntly. “Get the hell out of my office.”
“Now, Ty—” It was Harold Dennis’s turn to try to smooth the waters.
But Taylor Greene was done. “You know what? Fine.” She snatched her portfolio from the table and took a stumbling step back. “I’m done with the lies. I’m done with all of it.”
“Ms. Greene, I’m afraid the terms of your employment agreement—” Dennis began.
The young woman snorted. “My employment agreement?” she asked derisively. “Where is the part about covering up murder written into my agreement?”
Grace rose to meet the young woman face-to-face. “Did you witness the assault on Ms. Murray?”
Matthew tried to get up, too, but couldn’t get his feet under him.
“There’s no proof. My client—” Mr. Dennis tried again.
Matthew watched as Grace crossed to Taylor Greene and looked the young woman in the eye, but she kept her voice pitched too low for him to hear what she said.
“You knew!” the younger woman cried. “Why should I tell you anything? You used what I told you for leverage. You pushed and pushed until...oh my God.” Her gaze flew to Tyrone Powers once more. “I didn’t mean to. I... I needed to protect Nate. What she was saying about Nate and that Mallory woman was not true.”
“Did you witness Mr. Powers harming Ms. Murray?” Grace asked again, the pointed question cutting through various conversations.
Matt turned his attention back to Powers, interested to see how the question played out on the man who had clearly believed himself to be untouchable up until this moment. But Trey, with his father’s hand planted firmly on his shoulder, remained mute.
“What cause would my client have to do such a thing?” Harold Dennis blundered on.
“You have no proof Ms. Murray was harmed while in Mr. Powers’s company,” Michelle Fraser interjected coolly. “You have no motivation.”
Matthew felt compelled to speak. “I can tell you without a qualm we have enough evidence to arrest at least four people in this room today.” He spoke quietly enough that the raised voices around him fell away.
Heads swiveled to Harold Dennis, and the other man stilled. “On what charges?”
“Operating watercraft under the influence?” He tossed it out like a fishing hook into chum-baited waters. The other man, nonplussed, couldn’t respond. “Or leaving the scene of an accident?” He raised a hand and pointed in Taylor Greene’s general direction, his eyes still locked on Trey. “She said you did.”
“One unfounded accusation doesn’t mean—” Michelle Fraser began.
“Assault? Aggravated assault? Reckless endangerment? Those are all possibilities, and we haven’t even gotten to intent. Intent opens up a lot of other possibilities.” He shifted his gaze to one after the other. “And I’m sure as officers of the court, all your friends know there’s a whole menu of possible charges waiting for them, too. Failure to report an accident, obstruction of justice, possibly even tampering with evidence? Any of those sound like a good fit?” he asked, glancing over at Grace.
“Sky’s the limit,” she replied coolly.
“Literally,” Matthew said, the word dry as dust. “Don’t forget, Table Rock Lake is considered a federal waterway. There could be a whole slew of federal charges facing whoever was involved.”
“True,” Grace confirmed.
He turned his attention back to Trey. No one moved. No one spoke. An unnatural silence filled the room.
“Frankly, I’m leaning more toward murder, but I may be biased,” he said, holding the other man’s gaze. “Premeditation is the big question.”
Mr. Dennis recovered first, but when he spoke, the words came out hollow. “You have no reason to believe—”
Matthew ignored him, his eyes narrowing on Trey. At last, the other man broke, shifting his attention to Tyrone Powers. He clearly expected his daddy could save him.
“When did Mallory tell you she was pregnant, Trey?” Matthew asked, his voice lethally quiet.
The elder Powers flinched, but the younger went stock-still, like an animal who knew he was caught in the hunter’s sight line.
“Do not answer any questions,” Ms. Fraser interjected.
“Did you know she was pregnant when you came to Stubby’s? When you took her out on your boat?” Matthew persisted.
“Pregnant?” Ty Powers asked, turning a befuddled gaze at his son.
Ignoring counsel’s advice to keep his mouth shut, Trey turned to his father. “If she was, it’s not mine,” he said imploringly. “I hadn’t seen her in almost two months.”
“But you don’t deny having intercourse with her,” Grace said, moving back to her spot and planting her hands firmly on the conference table. “You and Ms. Murray have had sexual relations.”
“Yeah, but—”
Trey’s protests were cut off by Michelle Fraser’s shout. “Shut up. Now!”
In the residual silence, Grace picked up her cell phone.
“Everybody back to their offices immediately,” Harold Dennis barked.
“No,” Grace retorted. Holding her phone in her left hand, she stepped in front of the conference room doors. Matthew gawked at mulish set of her chin as she raised the phone to her mouth. “I’m going to need you all to stay here, please.”
“You can’t—”
But Grace wasn’t listening to anything more Harold had to say. Instead, she switched her phone to speaker mode. “Sheriff Stenton?” she asked when a gravelly voiced man answered.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“This is Special Agent Grace Reed of the Arkansas State Police,” she said, her gaze locking first with Harold Dennis, then skimming over Tyrone Powers and landing on his son. “Is the backup and transport I requested earlier ready?”
“Yes, ma’am. We’re right outside.”
Grace nodded. “Please, come in. I’ll have at least four detainees, and I imagine each of them is going to want to lawyer up separately.”
She ended the call, then asked the room in general, “Is there anyone here who needs me to remind them of their Miranda rights?”
Matthew rose and went to stand next to her. “How can I help?” he asked.
She leaned over and whispered, “You might want to give the people in your office a heads-up. I have a team heading in there now, too.”
Grace stepped aside at a tap on the door. Over Harold Dennis’s increasingly voluble protests, she twisted the handle and allowed a group of sheriff’s deputies to enter the room.
Matthew watched them pass without moving. “I’ll call, but I’m not stepping out.”
He called his assistant, Tracy.
“Matthew? What’s happening? Nate’s in a hell of a mood.”
“Hey, listen, I can’t talk long,” he said to his assistant. “Some stuff is about to go down with Nate. I can’t get into it now. I need you to stay calm and make sure everyone else does, too. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
He ended the call to preempt the barrage of questions he knew would be forthcoming. As Grace directed the deputies to each of the persons they’d identified as party guests, he speed-dialed his boss.
“What the hell is going on?” Nate snapped. “Where are you?”
“I’m at the offices of Powers, Powers & Walton,” he replied calmly.
“Why? We’ve talked about this. Nothing good can come of—”
“I’m watching your friend Trey Powers get cuffed as we speak,” Matthew said, cutting him off. “They’re also taking guys named Joshua Potter and Chet Barrow, as well as a Ms. Taylor Greene into custody for questioning.”
“On what grounds?” Nate demanded. Matthew heard the echo of a hard rap on a door and held his breath.
Nate place a finger over the microphone to muffle the sound, but his voice still came through clear enough when he called out, “Come back later. I’m busy.”
“I don’t think they’ll come back later, Nate,” Matthew said quietly.
Through the phone he could hear a louder knock and an officious voice call out, “Nathaniel Able?”
Nate came back on the line. “What the hell is this, Murray? What’s happening here?”
“I’m afraid Taylor Greene has placed you at the same party she was attending the evening Mallory went missing,” he explained. “The party at the Powerses’ lake house.”
“She’s lying,” Nate responded without hesitation.
“Unfortunately for you, she’s not. I’ve seen photographs of the two of you together. Come on, Nate, you know the internet is forever. How could you have been so foolish?”
The minute the question escaped him, Matthew wondered if he was asking his boss how he’d been foolish enough to get caught, or foolish enough to put himself in the situation to start. Either way, it didn’t matter. Nate’s career as a prosecutor and his dreams of political glory were likely over.
Or not. It seemed politicians were able to get away with far more these days. Perhaps the cover-up of Mallory’s death would end up being something Nate would have to spin, but it was possible the scandal wouldn’t keep him from winning future elections. Particularly not if his wife stayed by his side.
And if he stayed on the right side of Tyrone Powers.
“Go with them quietly. Answer what questions you can and be sure to give Susan some warning.”
“I swear, if you’ve done anything to jeopardize my—”
“I haven’t done anything other than try to find out what happened to my sister. You remember my sister now, don’t you, Nate? She’s the one you and your buddies left floating alone in the dark on Table Rock Lake.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nate said stiffly.
Matthew swallowed hard. All around him, deputies were snapping handcuffs and running through the litany of arrest. From the head of the table, Harold Dennis barked out the names of other attorneys in the room, assigning one to each of the detainees.
He heard the deputy on the other end of the line say to Nate, “I’m going to need you to end your call and come with me, sir.”
Three short beeps marked the disconnection. Matthew lowered the phone and stepped to the side, allowing one of the deputies to lead a bewildered-looking Joshua Potter from the room. He watched as the deputy leading Barrow followed, the younger man grumbling under his breath about how they were all making a big, big mistake. Grace stepped in beside him while Taylor Greene was led out the door; her eyes were downcast, but her frustrated sobs had dried to hiccups.
“You okay?” she asked in a low voice as two more attorneys scurried out of the room.
“Yeah.”
Matthew’s focus shifted to Trey Powers, who stood conferring with his father and lawyers. The deputy had cuffed his hands in front of him but kept a loose hold on the crook of his arm. Matthew noticed how he’d subtly turned away from their hissed whispers. Even under arrest, the Powers men received special treatment.
“You’d better head to your office while I deal with all this. It’s going to be a circus over there.”
Matthew nodded. “You’re probably right.”
“I’m going to have to get the Carroll County prosecutor filled in, but I’ll touch base with you as soon as I get a minute.”
“I doubt any of them talk from here on out.”
Grace gave him a half smile. “I think Taylor will. I believe the young woman may actually have one of those...what do you call it? A moral compass?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Matthew replied, deadpan.
“Oh, right, you’re one of them, too.”
“I am not one of them,” he shot back immediately.
Grace gave his arm a reassuring pat. “No. No, you’re not.”
Stepping forward, she turned her attention to the group on the other side of the room. Tyrone and Trey seemed to be stalling while Harold Dennis conferred with Michelle Fraser.
“Mr. Powers?” Grace prompted. When they deigned to turn her way, she raised both eyebrows and smirked at the powerful trio. “I promise y’all will have hours to play catch-up, but you’re holding me and Deputy, uh...” She tilted her head, trying to read the name pinned to the officer’s uniform.
“Smith,” he supplied for her.
“You’re keeping Deputy Smith from his other duties, and I’m tired of waiting for you. Let’s move it out.”
With the brusque order, Grace unleashed a smile so triumphant, Matthew felt his chest tighten even as Tyrone Powers flushed nearly violet.
At last, Trey started to move to the door with Michelle Fraser close on his heels, but Tyrone Powers halted them with an abrupt “Stop!” With a fiery glare at Grace, he unbuttoned the jacket of his exquisitely tailored suit. “Hold out your arms,” he instructed his son.
Trey did as he was told, but in doing so, the sleeves of his own suit jacket rode up.
Recognition shot through Matthew like a lightning bolt when he spotted the expensive watch on the man’s wrist. Grace must have seen it, too, because she straightened to her full height as the older man draped his folded jacket over his son’s wrists to conceal the cuffs.
Grace gave Matthew a speaking glance before she fell into step behind Trey and the deputy. “I like your cuff links,” she said in a voice loud enough to carry back to him. “And they match your watch. Such a pretty blue. Are they white gold or platinum?”
Matthew had to stifle a chuckle as he followed the two older lawyers out of the conference room and toward the exterior doors. Harold Dennis held one of the glass panel doors open for them to pass through, but Tyrone hung back.
Matthew could only assume it was because he wanted to put distance between Grace and themselves as he whispered, “This was not your brightest hour, Murray. When we’re through with you, no one will elect you dogcatcher.”
Meeting the other man’s steely gaze, Matthew simply shrugged. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m not running for dogcatcher.”
While Grace and the others headed for the parking area, Matthew took off at a brisk pace in the opposite direction. His gaze fixed straight ahead, he power walked down Central toward the courthouse and the county offices. Cutting through to one of the back entrances, he passed the spot where he’d backed into Judge Walton’s car a lifetime ago.
He nodded to the sheriff’s deputy on security duty, showed his ID and emptied his pockets into a tray to be clear for the metal detector. Once he’d collected his belongings, he turned down the main corridor and started off in a trot. He reached the prosecuting attorney’s offices just as Nate was being escorted into the hall wearing a set of cuffs.
