The Sleeping Beauty Killer

27

Three days later, Laurie, Grace, and Jerry were gathered in her office to discuss where they stood in securing agreements from everyone they wanted to participate in the next special.

Grace flipped through a file of signed releases. “Of the people who were at the gala that night, we’ve got Hunter’s brother and father, both of whom have made it very clear they believe Casey is guilty. The assistant, Mary Jane, signed. Casey, of course, is participating, as is her cousin Angela. We have the housekeeper who will back up Casey’s claim that Hunter’s photograph with the President was on his nightstand. And we have Casey’s mother.”

Jerry let out a groan. “I’m not even sure we should go there. Paula seems like a nice woman, but she has called at least three times a day, asking questions about every last thing. Are we sure Casey can’t be sent back to prison? Does Casey need a lawyer? Can you blur our faces? She doesn’t have much to offer about the actual evidence, and I’m afraid if we put her on camera, she’ll be a deer in the headlights.”

“I’ll think about that,” Laurie said. “You may be right.”

Viewers would tune in just to hear Casey, because she never testified at trial. But they needed something new other than the missing picture frame.

“I’m torn about whether to push harder to get Mark Templeton on board,” Laurie said.

Grace flipped through her notes, trying to remember all the names. “That’s the money guy, right?”

Laurie nodded. “Chief financial officer of the Raleigh Foundation, to be exact. He told Jerry he wanted to avoid associating his name with Casey because of his current role as director of a nonprofit, but he could have ulterior motives for lying low. The fact that the Raleigh Foundation had financial problems when he departed does raise questions-especially combined with Hunter’s concerns about the books and the fact that it took Mark nearly a year to start a new job after he left the foundation.”

Jerry tapped his pen against his notebook. “Do we have any evidence other than Casey’s word that Hunter was worried about the foundation?”

Laurie raised her hand in the shape of a zero. “If we did, we’d have leverage to press Mark on the issue. Without it, we look like we’re grasping at straws.” Laurie was already missing the conversations she used to have with Alex. They would pore over the evidence together, looking at each piece from all sides.

“More like Casey’s grasping at straws,” Grace emphasized. “If Hunter had really been sniffing around about the finances and was suddenly murdered, wouldn’t someone have come forward to tell the police? One of those forensic accountants he was hiring?”

“Unless he never got around to calling,” Laurie said. “According to Casey, he said he noticed something unusual and that he was going to hire someone to inspect the books. But, again, that’s according to Casey. I’m tempted to press Mark Templeton about the issue, but I’m worried he’ll call the Raleighs and scare them off. I’m sure they don’t want a whiff of scandal about the foundation. Until I have concrete evidence to connect Mark, I think it’s a dead end.”

“The good news,” Jerry reported cheerily, “is that we have our two principal locations locked down. Hunter’s Connecticut house was left to his brother, Andrew. My impression is that the man nearly forgot he owns it. His exact words when I called him to confirm were mi casa es su casa. And even though the Cipriani ballroom is booked for months, the Raleigh Foundation will let us piggyback onto their upcoming donor event, but it’s next Sunday. That’s in ten days, which I think we can pull off. We’d film before their event-in exchange for a nice donation, of course. I already did a walk-through, and it will be a beautiful setting.”

“I have an idea about a location also,” Grace said. “Tiro A Segno in Greenwich Village. It’s both a private gun club and a restaurant. Where else can you get veal parmigiana and a target range? It was Hunter’s favorite place to shoot. You might be able to find people who remember him and Casey.”

“Congratulations, Grace. Good idea,” Laurie said. “If only location scouting was always this easy.” The trial had simplified matters, too. Her past specials had all involved cases that never led to an arrest, let alone court proceedings. She had to piece together the evidence from public records, newspaper articles, and the biased recollections of myriad witnesses. Not this time. She had spent the last few days poring over the transcripts from Casey’s trial and had created a detailed overview of every aspect of the evidence. “Is it possible we might actually be able to meet Brett’s absurd time line?”

She heard a knock at the door and yelled for the person to come in. It was Ryan Nichols. “Sorry I’m late.”

He didn’t sound as though he meant it.