He closed the door for Room 478 and hung aDO NOT DISTURBsign on the outer knob. Checkout time on the weekends was not until two o’clock so the bodies would not be found until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. Jacks had checked earlier and determined that this section of hallway was not subject to any video surveillance. Conveniently, older hotels routinely contained gaps in coverage.
They returned to Room 479.
Barnard opened the champagne and poured three-quarters of the bottle down the bathroom drain, rinsing the sink clean. Jacks unmade the bed and rumpled the sheets and pillows. Barnard then wedged the nearly empty champagne bottle back into the ice but, before he did, rinsed the stemmed glasses with a little of the alcohol, leaving a swig of residue. Barnard then placed the tray with bucket on the nightstand beside the bed, one glass there, the remaining on the nightstand on the other side. The room was paid for in advance using fake identification. Easy to assume it had been used for a weekend rendezvous the occupants wanted secret. Barnard and Jacks removed their gloves and tossed them into the empty briefcase.
He did the same.
The cloth with antiseptic was already there.
All, including the pillow, would be disposed of later.
“Let’s go,” De Florio said.
“Where to?” Jacks asked.
“Back to Concord to finish this.”
THE FINAL DAY
MONDAY, JUNE 26
7:10A.M.
BRENT STOOD IN THE SHOWER AND DOUSED HIS BODY WITH HOTwater. He was glad the weekend was over. The two days had been the longest of his life. He’d worked in the yard most of Saturday. To keep some semblance of a regular routine he and Ashley went out Saturday night, then took Lori Anne to an air show yesterday at the Screven County airport. They hadn’t, as yet, talked with Lori Anne about him being her father. But they would soon. After they became a little bit better acquainted. On the way home they’d stopped by Hank’s house, where he learned nothing had been heard from Greene.
His mother sensed something was bothering him and tried last night to get him to talk. But he knew, at least for now, it was better to keep things to himself. Ashley had probed too. But it was bad enough that he might be in danger, he wasn’t about to involve her. He thought about staying away from Ashley and Lori Anne altogether, but decided that if De Florio was watching he would already know all about his contact with her, and he didn’t want to do anything that would raise suspicions. He hoped Greene was successful. Once public attention was focused on Lee and Hughes, neither would be foolish enough to harm anybody. Or at least that’s what he’d tried to convince himself of all weekend.
He finished showering, stepped from the tub, and towel-dried his hair. He walked out into the bedroom and switched on theradio set to WODS, the local FM station that had serviced Concord and Woods County for decades. He’d always liked listening to the country-western format. But his enthusiasm for the station had forever dampened Friday when he noticed on Bozin’s itemization that Lawrence Hughes owned a controlling interest.
“Good morning, Woods County. Here are the morning’s top stories. Tragedy struck Saturday as police report that local attorney S. Lou Greene was killed in a downtown Atlanta hotel.”
A chill shot down his spine.
“Greene’s body was found along with the bodies of Victoria Wyler, a thirty-eight-year-old vocational rehabilitation specialist, and her forty-eight-year-old husband, Burt Wyler, an Atlanta businessman. Police theorize that Burt Wyler shot both, then killed himself. Neighbors of the Wylers verified that the couple was having marital problems and had been separated for some time. Greene and Vikki Wyler were shot with the gun found next to Burt Wyler’s body. Wyler died from an apparently self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. Police estimate the tragedy occurred sometime Saturday afternoon or evening and the investigation is ongoing. No funeral arrangements have been announced. Greene is survived by a wife and three children.”
He never heard what the announcer said next. His mind reeled. He barely heard his cell phone ring on the nightstand. Coming back to reality, he reached down and grabbed it.
“Brent.”
It was Hank. And he’d used his first name.
Surely playing to anybody listening.
“I couldn’t talk with you about it yesterday, but you didn’t tell me you and Ashley were seeing each other.”
“I just didn’t think about it,” he said, trying to figure out where the conversation was going.
Hank laughed. “She’s a tough one. Better watch yourself.”
He faked a laugh too. “Don’t I know.”
“Look, why don’t we have breakfast in the mill cafeteria. I’d like to know more about you and Ashley.”
Hank knew all about him and Ashley and never ate breakfast at the mill cafeteria. In fact, he knew Hank religiously avoided the place. Obviously, he wanted to talk and thought a public spot the best location. “Sure, that’d be fine. I’ll be there in about forty-five minutes.”
Hank was right.
They needed to talk.
