is busy and adding that Wisconsin will likely be a temporary safe haven from the danger of Quintana, just in case Moreno hasn’t successfully called him off.
She doesn’t try to dissuade me, nor does she mention the proximity to Findlay. It pops into my head that maybe I should go to Findlay and check out the place, maybe personally catch this Sandy Walsh loser doing something slimy. I doubt I’ll have time, but the thought is pleasant and intriguing enough to let me sleep with a smile on my face.
The next morning I get into the office before Edna, which is not exactly a news event. I decide to go online and make my own travel arrangements to Wisconsin, to leave late this afternoon.
I am a complete computer incompetent, and every time I try to do something some ad pops up in my face. It takes me forty-five minutes, but I finally get through it. Just before I’m finished, I have an amazing stroke of luck. A message comes on the screen, telling me that if the bar at the top is flashing, I’m a winner. And it’s flashing! I haven’t been online in weeks, and here I am the chosen one. It’s simultaneously thrilling and humbling, so much so that I forget to click the bar to see what I’ve won.
Adam comes in with a request to go with me, and I say yes, mainly because I can’t think of a valid reason to say no. The studio will pay for his ticket, and he calls their travel department and within thirty seconds is booked and ready to go. Of course, he missed out on the flashing bar and the incredible win.
I’ve scheduled a ten o’clock meeting with Kevin and Laurie to assess where we are in our trial preparation. Kevin has been meeting with various members of the Giants, ironic because Kevin knows so little about football, and sports in general, that I could tell him Kenny played shortstop and he’d believe me.
Kenny’s teammates are thoroughly supportive, uniformly claiming to be positive that Kenny could not possibly be guilty of such a crime. Not realizing that I had already talked to Bobby Pollard, the paralyzed trainer who is one of Kenny’s best friends, Kevin has done so as well, and he is especially taken with Bobby’s expressions of loyalty. He is also, as I was, impressed by the fact that Kenny has seen to it that his friend has stayed employed.
Laurie and Marcus have made considerable progress buttressing our contention that Preston was involved with drugs, as both seller and user. Their information is supplemented by things Sam Willis has found out about Preston’s finances. It helps, especially since we have little else to hang our hat on. The evidence against Kenny, while circumstantial, is very compelling, and we have almost nothing to refute it.
On the plus side we haven’t uncovered anything striking or unusual about the relationship between Kenny and Preston. Certainly, there is no obvious motive, at least none that we can see. This is not to say Kenny is innocent; the murder could have been the result of a sudden argument or a rash act clouded by the fog of drugs.
Our meeting ends early, since I have to get to the airport. I’m late and only have time to kiss one of them goodbye, so I choose Laurie over Kevin. It’s a tough call, but I’m paid big bucks to make this kind of decision.
Kevin leaves, and I say to Laurie, “Making any progress on your decision?” I say it nervously because I’m nervous about hearing the answer.
She shakes her head. “Not really. I’m trying not to obsess about it. I just think, when I know, I’ll know.” That’s pretty tough to argue with, so I don’t.
On the way out I walk by Sam Willis’s office, and he yells out for me to stop in. He tells me that he’s been checking into Sandy Walsh, and I instinctively look up to make sure that Laurie hasn’t come in and overheard this. It’s another sign that I’m aware that what I’m doing is nothing to be proud of.
“He’s got real money,” says Sam. “Not as much as you, but loaded.”
“From where?”
“Hard to tell. Maybe investments, maybe family money… but it’s not from his business.”
“What is his business?” I ask.
“Rental car agency. One location in town, one just outside of town. Solid, but not big enough to be responsible for his wealth.”
“Thanks, Sam,” I say, and prepare