Jo was busy with a client, and they waited a few minutes in the anteroom of her office. Her secretary, Fran Cooper, asked if they’d like something to drink. They both declined.
Jo’s door opened and Amanda Horton stepped out. Amanda was a transplant from Des Moines who, Cork knew, was trying to buy lake property currently tied up in probate.
“Hello, Cork,” she said.
“Afternoon, Amanda.”
She gave Ben Jacoby an appreciative look as she left.
Cork watched her go. When his eyes swung back, he found his wife standing in the doorway of her office, her eyes huge, her mouth open in an oval of surprise.
“Ben?”
“My God,” Jacoby replied with equal wonder. “Jo McKenzie.”
12
Jacoby accepted the coffee she offered him and sat in one of the chairs available for clients.
Cork took the other client chair. “So,” he said. “Law school together.”
“My second year.” Jo put the coffee server back on the tray with the mugs she kept on hand, went behind the desk, and sat down.
“My last,” Jacoby said. “But you still practice, Jo.”
“You don’t?”
“I never did. I do investments.”
“In Chicago?”
“We’re in the Sears Tower.” He shook his head and smiled. “You look wonderful. You haven’t changed at all.”
“What are you doing here?” She furrowed her brow. “Jacoby. Eddie?”
“He was my brother. My half brother.”
She folded her hands on her desk, then unfolded them. “I never made the connection. I’m sorry, Ben.”
Jacoby looked at his coffee mug but didn’t take a sip. “No reason you should be. You and I, we knew one another a very long time ago. And Jacoby’s not that unusual a surname.”
“I mean I’m sorry about Eddie.”
“Ah, yes. You dealt with him, with the business he had here?”
“That’s right.”
“Then maybe you can help me.”
“In what way?”
“Before Eddie left for Aurora, he told me this visit would be different, that I’d understand when he got back. I got a call from him yesterday, late in the afternoon. He said he was going to celebrate. He sounded as if he was already two sheets to the wind, so I didn’t know how much more celebrating he planned on doing. I wonder if you have any idea what that might have been about? Business?”
Cork looked at her, too.
Jo chewed on her lower lip, something she only did when she was very nervous. “It’s possible. He’d been working for months to get the Iron Lake Ojibwe as clients for his company. He presented me with the contract yesterday. The RBC won’t vote on it for a while, but they’re certainly favorably disposed at the moment. So maybe that was it.”
Jacoby thought it over and nodded slightly. “Maybe. Nothing Eddie touched ever turned out right. I think he was in trouble with Starlight and needed this casino deal.” He glanced at Cork. “Does that help you at all?”
“We’ll be looking into the possibility that his murder is related to his stay in Aurora, certainly, but is it possible this was something tied to his life in Chicago?”
“You mean somebody came out here to kill him?” The skepticism in his voice was obvious.
“I’m just asking are you aware of any circumstances in his life that ought to be considered.”
“Did you know Eddie at all?”
“I’d met him a couple of times.”
“Did he strike you as a gentle soul?”
“I’d appreciate it if you’d just answer my question.”
“Look, Eddie and trouble were old friends, but I’m not aware of anything at the moment that I would connect with this. I can easily believe, however, that while he was here he pissed off somebody enough to want him dead.”
Cork was making notations in a small notepad he kept in his shirt pocket. While he wrote, Jacoby turned suddenly toward Jo.
“Kids?” he asked.
Jo hesitated. “Three.”
“I have a son. His name’s Phillip. He’s in his senior year at Northwestern.” He waited, as if expecting Jo to reply in kind.
There was an uncomfortable silence, and Cork finally said, “We have two girls and a boy. Jenny’s a senior in high school. Annie’s a sophomore. Our son Stephen is in second grade.”
Jacoby spoke toward Jo. “Sounds like a nice family.”
“We think it is,” Cork replied. “Interesting that your son’s at Northwestern. That’s Jenny’s first choice for college.”
“She couldn’t choose better as far as I’m concerned. It’s my undergraduate alma mater.” He set his coffee mug on Jo’s desk. “Sheriff, do you need anything more from me right now? I’d like to go to the hotel and check on my father.”
“Where are you staying?”
“The Quetico Inn.”
“I’ll take you there.”
The two men stood up, and Jo after them. Jacoby reached across her desk and warmly took her hand. “It’s good to see you again, Jo. I’m just sorry it couldn’t have been under more pleasant circumstances.”
“I’m sorry, too, Ben.” She drew her hand back, and addressed Cork. “Will you be home for dinner?”
“I’ll try.”
“I’d like you there. For the kids.”
“Like I said, I’ll try.” He kissed her briefly and followed Jacoby out the door.
In the Pathfinder, as Cork pulled out of the parking lot of the Aurora Professional Building, Jacoby said, “Do you believe in synchronicity, Sheriff?”
Cork made a left onto Alder Street and headed toward the lake. “If that’s anything like coincidence, no.”
“I prefer to think of it as the convergence of circumstances for a particular purpose.” He looked out the window. They were passing the old firehouse that had been converted into a suite of chic offices. “Nice town,” he said, and sounded as if he meant it. “Aurora. The goddess of dawn.”
Cork said, “What kind of man was your brother?”
Jacoby looked at him. “You’ll get a prejudiced answer.”
“I’ll work around the prejudice.”
“He was the kind of man I’d rather have working for Starlight than for me.”
“Why?”
“He had a style I strongly disagreed with. What’s that wonderful smell?”
“It’s Thursday, barbecued rib night at the Broiler.”
Jacoby smiled vaguely. “What was last night?”
“Homemade meat loaf and gravy.”
Jacoby gave his head a faint shake. “Must be comforting.”
