That meant they still did not have any.
“All right,” I said. “As long as you understand that there are some things I can’t get into.”
“Yeah, that’s no problem. Let’s just talk a bit.”
I took in a deep breath to get centered before she asked her first questions.
She started with basic, preliminary information about my name, address, profession, and staff, which was simple because only Hailey Ramirez worked for me. No law partner. No associates.
Then she leaned forward, her head cocked to the left. “Mr. Seagraves, any idea why someone would want to shoot Richard Kostas?”
“Shoot him?” I asked. “So it was murder? You weren’t sure about that when the ambulance took his body to Baltimore.”
Sheriff Tompkins furrowed her eyebrows and paused before speaking. “We’re still waiting for the details from the Chief Medical Examiner. So why do you think someone would kill him?”
“I really don’t know. Like I said last night, I’d never actually met the man. That’s why I’m pretty sure I can’t be of much help to you, but he was involved in something at Benton Dynamics. The lawsuit is probably your best lead. His company claims that he stole classified files.”
“Any other reason somebody might want him dead?”
“Not that I know of,” I replied.
“When did Mr. Kostas first contact you?”
“You asked me that yesterday, Sheriff. He phoned Tuesday. Hailey took the call, set up an appointment the next day at three, and then patched him through. He and I spoke briefly about the upcoming hearing. I didn’t have much time to talk on the phone, because I was headed to court. I asked him for a copy of the complaint and Writ of Summons, which he later put in my drop-box.”
“But he didn’t show up for his appointment?”
“Right.”
“About what time of day did he call you on Tuesday?” she asked.
“Midday. Just before one o’clock.”
“And what case were you going to that afternoon?”
“A homeowner dispute with a building contractor. Breach of warranty for a deck on the back of a house.”
“Hmmm,” she said. “The name of the case and the court, if you don’t mind?”
“Suzanne Flannery v. Patroni Roof & Deck. District Court for Chester County. I represented the homeowner.”
With that information, Sheriff Tompkins would be able to look up the docket report online and confirm that I had been in court that day. Since she was not writing anything down, I assumed that a video camera was recording us from behind the two-way mirror.
She asked, “How long did that trial take?”
“All afternoon.”
“About what time did that put you back in your office?”
“Maybe four-thirty. Can’t say for sure.”
She leaned back and crossed her legs. “Were the court papers in your drop-box when you returned?”
“No, not yet. I usually check when I get back. They were there in the morning.”
“So Mr. Kostas would’ve dropped them off sometime between four-thirty and … what do you think … nine the next day?”
“Well,” I said, “definitely after five. Otherwise, Hailey would have heard the lid. I usually start around eight. I check the drop-box first thing.”
“Was he going to deliver the papers to you, or could it have been someone else?”
“He didn’t say.”
The sheriff leaned forward and asked, “Without going into your conversation with Mr. Kostas, what did you make of this Benton Dynamics lawsuit?”
“Not sure, but it sparked my curiosity.”
“Me, too.”
“Well,” I said, “this is a corporate espionage case. Kostas was served with the complaint and a TRO, a temporary restraining order. Judge Arnetti imposed a ten-day order to keep the defendants from passing on any confidential files from Benton Dynamics, at least until the hearing date.”
“Judge Arnetti? Why the Circuit Court for Chester County?”
The question seemed odd to me, because requests for injunctions were heard only in the Circuit Court, but then I recalled that the sheriff rarely had any involvement in civil matters. “That’s where the plaintiff filed suit.”
She asked, “Why would anyone steal files from Benton Dynamics?”
“Remember, he didn’t talk with me about that. This is just general speculation on my part. Usually, employees steal files to start up their own businesses or to take them to a new employer, but there could be other explanations. Some people simply want to work from home. Other people with security clearances have this weird mental compulsion, an urge to break the rules and see how far they can get. But I’ve got no idea. If he’d kept his initial appointment, I might have a handle on that.”
Sheriff Tompkins said, “Some of those theories make sense, if he worked alone. Kostas had an accomplice. A woman named Marisa Dupree.”
“Yeah, allegedly. So the complaint says.”
The sheriff tapped her unpolished fingernails on the tabletop. “I’ll give it to you straight, Mr. Seagraves. Her car was outside your office today. We started following her this morning, and that’s one of the reasons why I called you in. What can you tell me about Ms. Dupree?”
“Not much, except she has asked me to be her attorney in this case.”
Sheriff Tompkins rolled her eyes. “Funny that both defendants came to you for … representation.”
I shrugged, but gave no other reply.
“Why would they both pick you?” she asked.
“They didn’t say. Most clients come to attorneys through a connection, word of mouth, but I’m fairly new in Bridgeford. Maybe an internet search. I’ve a background with the government and security matters.”
The sheriff frowned. “What kind of background?”
“I served as a Navy JAG.”
“And?”
“What do you mean ‘and’?”
The sheriff tucked a strand of mousey brown hair behind her ear. “Mr. Seagraves, our department has access to a lot of information. All law enforcement does. Arrest records. Residential histories. Work histories. Dozens of databases that help us serve warrants and track fugitives. So what did you do after the Navy?”
“I worked for the Department of Defense.”
Her plain face displayed her exhaustion and impatience. “Can you shed any more light on that?”
“Unfortunately, Sheriff, I can’t.”
“Too bad,” she replied, “because we were doing so well. Let me fill you in
