Newspaper clipping next, and her mouth went dry. Three Energis employees vanished a few weeks before the story broke about the company’s shady accounting and deals. Greg Buckman, named as their supervisor and friend, was quoted in the story. ‘We’re deeply concerned. These are terrific, goal-oriented individuals, and they and their families are in our prayers. Our candlelight vigil for their safe return will be held in our headquarters lobby at seven this evening.’
Goal-oriented. Odd praise.
A follow-up clipping on the case didn’t quote Buckman but relayed that the three bodies and their car had been found, driven into a remote part of Galveston Bay. More clippings on Energis. Buckman was senior management in an energy-trading division that was part of the massive accounting scandal. No criminal charges filed against him, but his name was mentioned frequently enough that a long shade of suspicion settled on him and he’d lost a fortune in the civil lawsuits.
This past crime, his reputation smeared at Energis, was a doorway to him.
She had known Whit Mosley most of her life, had gotten much closer to him when he became justice of the peace and they started working together, but she had never heard him speak in the strained voice with which he had spoken to her. He was clearly involved beyond the scope of the law – in over his head, she guessed – and he had wanted her help earlier but not now. Either because he had crossed a line he shouldn’t have or he wanted to keep her out of danger. She hoped it was the latter.
Claudia closed her eyes. Say Whit found his mother. She works with a crime ring. She wanted nothing to do with Whit and the crime ring came after Whit to scare him off. But why wouldn’t he call the police, then? Because he didn’t want his mother implicated? Whit wouldn’t stand there and take abuse. So, a different angle. Say his mother wanted to be with Whit, aimed to leave her life of crime. Her colleagues in the ring didn’t want her walking away. She knew too much. Or they found out Whit was a judge and it made them nervous, this new family connection to law and order. So they came after Whit and his mom. But again, why wouldn’t Whit simply call the police? Because he did want to protect his mother – but from prosecution. Bust the crime ring, bust his mother. It could be one and the same.
She dug in her purse for an aspirin, dry-swallowed it, ignoring the bitter taste.
Or worse, Whit and his mom knew who the killers were and were hiding. But still in Houston. Why? What was to be gained by staying here? The anchor had to be timely, large, and powerful. Information on the Bellinis. Evidence to be retrieved. Money.
So what do I do now? Operating out of her jurisdiction was an entirely foreign concept to her, a violation of common sense and professionalism she’d never considered. But Whit changed everything. He’d always had that effect in her life, the one friend who always made life seem a little edgy and funky and ever-new. The kind of friend you’d keep a secret for, to protect him. If you had to.
Claudia got out of her ancient Honda Accord, walked along the gated entryway. A car pulled up to her left and she stepped to where she could see the driver’s fingers enter a code on the keypad. It looked like 2249. She stood, arms crossed, like she was waiting for a friend to pick her up, studying the far end of the street. She waited until the car had driven in, noticed that the crossbar fell almost immediately.
She got in her Honda and drove up. Tried the code of 2249. Didn’t work. She tried 2248. This time the cross bar creaked up and she quickly drove inside. She nosed into a visitor parking space near the community pool. She tucked her service revolver into her purse. Number twelve was Buckman’s. A single dim light glowed, a light left on in the kitchen. She pressed an ear to the door.
The soft fuzzy murmur of television. She rang the doorbell.
After a moment, the door swung open. A tall redheaded woman, pretty, wearing a T-shirt that said TOPAZ in glittery cursive, the T-shirt one size too tight. Loose jeans. And a loose look in her eyes, wine or beer or pot working its easy magic.
‘Hi,’ Claudia said. ‘My name is Claudia Salazar. I’m sorry to bother you so late in the evening, but I’m a freelance writer doing a book on Energis and I’m trying to get an appointment with Greg Buckman. His number’s unlisted, but a friend of his told me he lived here.’
‘He’s not here and he doesn’t talk about Energis,’ the tall redhead said. ‘Sorry.’ She started to close the door.
‘He’s been treated like garbage in the press. I want to fix that,’ Claudia said. The door stopped, the redhead watching her. ‘People at certain levels at Energis, their reputations have been savaged. They can’t get real work again. But they couldn’t have all known about the accounting abuses, because folks would have blown the whistle earlier, right? People like Mr Buckman were following orders. He didn’t really do anything wrong.’
The redhead gave a slight nod, surprised at this heartfelt monologue.
Claudia let a beat pass. ‘I want to tell that story. Defend the people who got their reputations assassinated, even though they never faced a criminal charge. That’s not the American way. They need a forum to clear their names.’
‘Out of the goodness of your heart?’ Now the gaze wasn’t so vacant, a little smarter.
‘Out of an interest in fair reporting.’
The redhead studied her. ‘I’ll see if he’s willing to call you.’
‘Are you his wife?’
‘Girlfriend,’ she said with a smile. ‘I’m Robin Melvin. Don’t misspell it in your book. Can you mention me in it? My mama would absolutely die.’
‘I’m sure you want Greg to have options in his life again, Robin. Go to work for another energy company, right? Command the respect and salary he had before.’
‘Yeah.’ Robin bit her lip. ‘That’d be nice.’ A stab of guilt touched Claudia’s heart for misleading Robin, but this seemed the shortest distance to the end.
‘Could you and I talk now? I’d like your insight on this; how it’s affected you. I can meet Greg face-to-face when he gets back. Make my case in person to him. I know talking about Energis is painful. But my book might be a big help to him. Let me fire a shot in his defense.’
Robin considered. ‘Well. Okay. You and I can wait for him. He should be home soon. You want a glass of wine?’
Claudia nodded and stepped inside.
The townhome was high-end, one of the nicest Claudia had ever seen, but Buckman’s furnishings were sparse. Clean. Minimal but expensive. A leather couch, an entertainment system with more controls than a flight simulator. A stack of DVDs. She glanced at the titles while Robin Melvin fetched the wine. It’s a Wonderful Life. Mr Smith Goes to Washington. The Sound of Music. Greeting-card movies, not what she had expected from a suspected killer. A long line of books on a shelf. All by Chad Channing. The Art of Be. Sail Through the Goal Posts of Life! I Make Me Happen. Self-help tripe. The books’ spines were all cracked and worn with handling.
Robin brought massive goblets of chardonnay, filled nearly to the brim, already sipping from one. ‘Oh, those,’ she said, seeing Claudia inspecting the books. ‘You can see how depressed he’s been, reading that junk. It lifts him up.’
She handed the wine to Claudia; a trickle sloshed onto Claudia’s hand. ‘Does it?’ Claudia asked.
‘It’s a comfort blanket,’ Robin said, ‘that guru whispering in his ear. It’s like a conscience-for-hire.’
‘This is a very nice place. What’s he doing now to keep the mortgage paid?’
Robin shrugged, sat down on the couch. ‘Consulting. Bucks’ got friends who keep him busy.’ A note of bitterness crept into her voice.
‘Bucks?’
‘That’s what his friends call him. Not too many people call him Greg.’
Claudia sat, took a sip of wine, unsure of what to do now. ‘Robin. In doing my research, I understand there were three of Bucks’ friends at the company who were murdered a few weeks before the Energis story broke.’
Robin nodded. ‘Horrible.’ But a new wariness was in her eyes.
‘Well, I’m sure that must have been very upsetting for Bucks. Did he ever say that anyone at Energis was involved?’
‘Like had them whacked?’
Whacked. Not killed. ‘Yeah,’ Claudia said. ‘Whacked.’
Robin took a solid gulp of her wine. Those guys were his best friends at work. Bucks was crazy with worry. I didn’t really know him well then. He and his friends frequented the place I work, I knew them as really good
