for a small businessman to be associated with more than one company
over his lifetime.
My search for Gunderson's name turned up only the listings for
Gunderson Development and Gunderson Construction, but Carl Matthews s
name also yielded two results: one for the the MTK Group and one for a
company called Columbia Holding Company. I clicked on the hypertext of
the company name.
The first few lines of the entry showed that Columbia Holding Company
was an inactive Oregon corporation, with a corporate filing date nearly
twenty-five years ago. When I scrolled down farther, I had to reread
the text twice to make sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. The
secretary of the now defunct company was Carl Matthews, current
president of the MTK Group. The president was none other than Herbert
Kerr.
I had found my connection.
Susan Kerr's Mercedes was parked in her driveway. I had risked a
complete waste of time by driving up without calling ahead, but I knew
from experience that surprise confrontations were my best chance of
getting information from the uncooperative. Susan was the link. She
was Clarissa's best friend. She was connected to Carl Matthews and the
MTK Group through her husband. And she had been helping Townsend raise
money for the hospital wing. It couldn't be a coincidence. She had to
know more than she was telling. But, once again, she was protecting
her friends and maybe even herself.
I circled the block to steel my resolve. I wasn't going to accept any
lame stories about shielding Townsend in his grief or defending
Clarissa's memory. It was time for someone involved in whatever this
scheme was to flip, and the someone was going to be Susan. If I had to
haul her into a grand jury tomorrow, I'd find a way to do it, Duncan be
damned.
I'd gotten myself good and pumped up and was ready to home in for the
kill when I registered a faint buzzing sound. It stopped, then started
again. My cell phone. I must have forgotten to turn the ringer on
after I had silenced it during court.
It was Chuck.
'Hey, sweetie. Can't talk right now. I'm in the zone.'
'The zone for what? Ignoring everyone close to you?'
I looked at my watch. How did it get so late? 'I'm sorry. I
completely lost track of time.'
'I've been trying to call you all afternoon. I think I scared the be
jesus out of your father. I called him freaking out about where you
were, but I guess you'd just left there before I talked to him. You
all right?'
I looked at the tiny screen on the face of my cell phone and, sure
enough, saw a little envelope indicating unchecked messages.
'I'm fine. The day's just been a little crazy.'
'More than a little crazy, babe. I was running around all day on a
rape out in Rockwood, but when I got back the guys were in a tizzy
about something that happened at the Jackson prelim.'
'Really, it's fine. Roger got pissed about something that happened,
Duncan took me off the case '
'What? No one told me that. You're not fighting it?'
'No. Look, Chuck. I promise I'll explain everything to you later.
Tonight, even, if you're willing to come over.' I realized as I was
extending the invitation how nice it would be to curl up with him and
finally relax tonight. 'I'll call as soon as I'm out of here. I
promise.'
'And where exactly is here?'
'Nothing important. Just an interview, something I've been meaning to
take care of.' I didn't have time for the riot act he'd surely read me
if he knew my errand related to the Jackson case. I could tell him the
full story after I saved the day.
'Fine,' he conceded. 'It'll give me time to call your father and
apologize for getting so freaked out.'
'One quick flip of a witness, and I'll be done in time for Mexican take
out and margaritas?'
'Ooh, now that sounds good.'
'It's a plan. I'll call you in probably thirty minutes.'
I flipped the phone shut, turned the corner, and parked next to Susan's
Mercedes, still in the zone.
I rang the doorbell, and Susan peeked out through a small window at the
top of the door before opening up.
'Samantha,' she said, looking at her watch, 'what a nice surprise. Come
