Mountain Top(70)
Mike sat up straighter in the seat. “Let me see the memo.”
Hodges opened the envelope and handed a single sheet of paper to Mike, who quickly read it. It was a memo from Dressler to Hatcher about the meeting with the deacons from the Craig Valley church. It listed the check numbers, the amount of the checks, and the deposits to Sam’s account. It contained no new information.
“I met with the leaders of the Craig Valley church and already know all this,” Mike said.
“That doesn’t surprise me, but why would that memo be in this file?
Everything else has to do with the Cohulla Creek project: companies holding the options, the acreage involved, and preliminary plans for development of the property.”
Mike shook his head.
Hodges leaned closer to him. “Read the last line of the memo.”
Mike held up the sheet of paper and read, “‘This should take care of the Miller problem. Will keep you advised.’”
“Doesn’t that sound strange?” Hodges asked.
Mike shrugged. “Yes, but it’s ambiguous and subject to various interpretations. Just like the statement Sam gave Detective Perkins. What expands this case beyond a routine embezzlement charge is the degree of interest Maxwell Forrest and Jack Hatcher have in what’s going on, including my involvement.”
“Admit it. They know you’re one of the best investigative attorneys in this circuit. Ken West once told me you drove him nuts with all the time and energy you put into even little cases.”
Mike grinned. “If God hadn’t taken away my ego, that sort of compliment would make my head swell.”
“Then use what’s left of your brain. Sam Miller wrote one of his crazy letters to the president of the bank and made Hatcher think he knew there was something shady about the acquisition of the Cohulla Creek property. Hatcher tells Dressler to frame Sam on an embezzlement charge so anything the old man says, especially about the bank, will be automatically discredited.”
Mike was impressed by the reporter’s deductive abilities but knew that without Sam’s consent he had to keep his own information private.
“If you print that story it will definitely be libelous,” he said.
“I know, but you’re a defense lawyer. You can say anything you want in court and get away with it. Isn’t your strategy in a criminal case to put everyone on trial you can think of except your client?”
“Yes, it can be an effective way to go on the attack.”
“Which is what I want to do. If you stir this thing up enough, something may break for me. A little light can dispel a lot of darkness, and a story like this would be the opportunity of a lifetime.”
“Have you considered going directly to Dressler?”
Hodges shook his head. “I thought I’d leave that to you.”
Seventeen
MIKE LEFT BROOKS SANDWICH HOUSE WITH A FULL STOMACH and a computer disc containing the information Braxton Hodges had obtained from Brian Dressler’s computer. While driving back to the church, he debated when to call Dressler and how to bring up the subject of the memo. He decided the best approach would be to set up a face-to-face meeting as soon as possible. Delores didn’t speak when he greeted her as he passed her desk.
Mike went into his office and shut the door. There were two stacks of phone messages on top of the announcements for the bulletin. Delores’s work on the bulletin was accurate but without the embellishments Mike normally added to make the upcoming events more appealing. He took out his red pen to make changes then stopped. Better to leave it alone than to raise her ire.
He went to the door.
“Delores, the wording of the announcements was fine. No corrections needed. However, next week I’ll make sure I allocate the time to take care of it myself.”
“That’s better,” she replied. “You’ve been acting more like a lawyer than a minister. Ordering me around like a twenty-year-old clerical worker, staying out of the office half the time, thinking more about one man who committed a crime than the three hundred law-abiding people depending on you here.”
Mike withdrew before his face revealed his irritation at the secretary’s attitude. He didn’t want to see her the rest of the day, but a sudden idea drew him back to the office door.
“How is your sister?” he asked.
“Not good. We had a long talk this morning. Her husband filed for divorce and hired a sleazy lawyer who got a crooked judge to sign an order kicking her out of the house. She’s checking into a motel this afternoon but has no place to go.”
“Could she come up here and stay with you?”
“That wouldn’t work. She’s allergic to cigarette smoke.”