Jackson exited the room. Sawyer was about to join him when Sidney put a
hand on his shoulder.
“Mr. Sawyer–”
“You can make it Lee.”
“Lee, I would have to be pretty stupid not to realize that this all
looks very bad.”
“And not for a minute do I think you’re stupid, Sidney.” They exchanged
glances of mutual respect; however, Sawyer’s statement was not entirely
supportive.
“Do you have any reason to suspect that my husband was involved in
anything…”–she paused and swallowed hard, preparing to utter the
unthinkable–“in anything illegal?”
He looked at her, and the unmistakable sense that he had seen the woman
somewhere before began to nag him again until it became a certainty.
“Sidney, let’s just say that your husband’s activities right before he
left on that flight are giving us some problems.”
Sidney thought back to all those late nights, Jason’s trips back to the
office. “Is anything amiss at Triton?”
Sawyer watched her squeezing her hands together. Normally the most
tight-lipped of FBI agents, for some reason Sawyer wanted to tell her
everything he knew. He resisted the temptation. “It’s an on going
bureau investigation, Sidney. I really can’t say.”
She stepped back a bit. “I understand, of course.”
“We’ll be in touch.”
After Sawyer left the room, Sidney felt a twinge of apprehension as she
recalled Nathan Gamble’s similar remark about keeping in touch. She
suddenly felt enveloped by cold bands of fear. She hugged herself and
drew closer to the fire.
The phone call from Jason had initially buoyed her to the highest levels
of euphoria. She had never felt such joy, yet the scant details he had
provided had brought her plummeting back downward. She was currently in
a state of utter confusion, helplessness and unbridled loyalty to her
husband; an unwieldy emotional elixir to be carrying around inside. She
wondered what surprises tomorrow would bring.
On the way out of the house, the two agents were trailed by a chatty
Paul Brophy. “So obviously my firm would be quite anxious to learn of
any possible wrongdoing involving Jason Archer and Triton Global.” He
finally stopped talking and looked hopeful.
Sawyer just kept walking. “So I’ve heard.” The FBI agent stopped behind
Bill Patterson’s Cadillac, which was parked in the driveway.
When he put his foot up on the rear bumper ro retie his shoelaces, he
saw a MAINE, THE VACATIONLAND STATE bumper sticker. When was the last
time I had a vacation) he thought. You know you’re in trouble when you
can’t even remember. He hitched up his pants and turned to the
attorney, who was watching him from the front sidewalk.
“What’d you say your name was again?”
Brophy glanced at the front door and then hurried over. “Brophy.
Paul Brophy.” He hurriedly added, “As I said, I’m a New York-based
attorney, so I really have little to do with Sidney Archer.”
Sawyer eyed him closely. “And yet you flew all the way down here for
the memorial service. That’s what you said, right?”
Brophy looked at both men. Ray Jackson’s eyes narrowed as he took in
Paul Brophy. Slick money and bullshit were written all over the man.
“I’m really here as the firm’s representative. Sort of by default.
Sidney Archer is only a part-time attorney, and I was in town on
business anyway.”
Sawyer stared at a patch of cloud above the house. “Is that right?
You know, I had an opportunity to check up on Ms. Archer. From the
people I spoke with, she’s one of Tyler, Stone’s top attorneys.
Part-time or not. In fact, I asked for a list of the top five guns in
your place from at least three different sources, and you know what? The
lady was on every list.” He looked at Brophy and added, “Funny, though,
your name never came up.”
Brophy sputtered for a moment, but Sawyer wanted to move on anyway. “You
been here awhile, Mr. Brophy?” He nodded in the direction of the Archer
residence.
“About an hour. Why?” Brophy’s whiny tone betrayed his hurt feelings.
“Anything unusual happen while you were here?”
Brophy was bursting to tell the agents that he had a dead man’s words
captured on tape, but that information was far too valuable simply to