CHAPTER FIFTY
Jimbo Merryman knocked on my front door a little before ten on Monday morning. Jock had left a few minutes earlier, bound for the Starbucks on St. Armands Circle. He said he’d sit and drink coffee and read a book until I called.
Jimbo and I sat and sipped our coffee. I was filling him in some more on what we’d turned up in our investigation and my suspicions about Doc. “I don’t like to feel this way, Top. I owe the man my life.”
“Matt, I think there’s got to be some explanation. A man like Doc doesn’t just decide one day to get dirty.”
“Money is a powerful magnet, Jimbo, and sometimes good men cave at the thought of a lot of it.”
“Doc and I’ve kept up with each other for a long time. He was doing pretty well, making a lot of money, and living the good life for most of that time. I’m not saying it was huge money, but it was enough that he had pretty much everything he wanted. Then he decided to expand. Part of that was the timing. He was in the right place at the right time. He bought up a couple of small firms and then kept adding to the business. Sometimes he’d open a new office in another city and other times he’d buy an existing firm. It was an orderly progression and the big money started to flow.”
“What about the businesses he bought? Was there any animosity between him and the people he bought out?”
“I don’t think so. He paid a fair price and then turned the offices very profitable by getting rid of the deadwood. Some of the employees had been there for years and weren’t producing. Doc changed the culture of those businesses.”
“If he fired a bunch of people, there’d be some mad folks.”
“I don’t think so. He gave them great severance packages and helped them find work in different fields where they would do better.”
“What about the change in management? Did that create problems with the staffs?”
“Not that I’m aware of. He brought in a lot of vets to take over management. Most of them were Corps of Engineer officers who’d commanded troops in the field. He said if a guy could manage under fire, he could sure as hell manage in a civilian environment. He gave them each a bonus structure based on results and worked that kind of system into all the employees pay packages. The results are a lot of happy workers and an awful lot of money for Doc.”
Eleven o’clock came and went. We sipped more coffee. At noon I called Doc’s cell phone. No answer. Not even voice mail. I called his office in Atlanta, identified myself, and asked to speak to Charles Desmond.
“I’m sorry, sir,” said the receptionist, “but Mr. Desmond is on vacation.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you know how I can reach him? It’s vitally important.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t have that information.”
“Who’s in charge when Mr. Desmond is out of the office?”
“That would be Mr. Macomber, the vice president.”
“May I speak to him?”
“He’s in conference, I’m afraid.”
“Tell you what,” I said, a bit of frustration creeping into my voice, “interrupt Mr. Macomber and tell him that Mr. Desmond’s personal lawyer Matt Royal is on the phone and needs to speak to him about an urgent matter.”
“I’ll see what I can do, sir.”
In a moment a deep voice came on the line. “Mr. Royal? This is Paul Macomber.”
“Mr. Macomber, I’m an old friend of Chaz’s and I’m handling a legal matter for him. I really need to get in touch.”
“I know who you are, Mr. Royal, and I know what you’re doing for Chaz, but I don’t have any idea where he is.”
“Isn’t that odd?”
“Oddest damn thing that ever happened around here.”
“Did you know he was supposed to meet me in Longboat Key, Florida, this morning?”
“No, I didn’t. He called me last night and told me to cancel all his appointments for this week. Said he and Julie were going on a vacation. He didn’t want to be bothered. For anything. He was adamant about that part.”
“What time did he call you?”
“It must have been around ten. I was getting ready for bed.”
“I tried his cell phone and got no answer. Not even voice mail picked up,” I said.
“I had that phone cut off first thing this morning. Chaz’s orders.”
“Did you try to call him at home this morning or on his cell before you cut it off ?”
“Yes to both. No answer at all.”
“Did he take the plane?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m supposed to fly down to Jacksonville this afternoon and the captain just called to say the plane was ready anytime I wanted to leave. So I’m assuming Chaz didn’t take it.”
“Mr. Macomber, this is very important. If you hear anything from him, ask him to call me immediately.”
“I’ll do it, Mr. Royal.”
I turned to Jimbo, puzzled, and not a little bit worried. I told him what happened and who I’d talked to.
“I know Paul Macomber,” said Jimbo. “He used to run a bank in Jacksonville, and Chaz hired him away. Paul handles all the negotiations with customers and handled all the buyouts of other firms. He’s a finance guy and a big part of the success of the firm. Been with Chaz a long time.”
I called Jock on his cell phone, told him what happened. “I’m worried, Jock. This doesn’t sound like Chaz. He takes off without letting anybody know where he’s going and apparently decided to do so after he talked to me.”
“Let me see if I can get my agency to put some traces on his credit cards. If he uses one, we’ll know where he is. I’ll be on back out to the house in a few minutes.”
I hung up and looked at Jimbo. “I don’t like this, Top. Taking off like that tells me he’s guilty of something.”
Jimbo nodded. “Or maybe he’s dead.”
Jimbo waited around to see Jock. They’d met before and after a few minutes of catching up with each other, Jimbo left for home.
“Did you get Doc’s credit cards on a watch list?” I asked Jock.
“Yeah. If he uses one, we’ll know it within seconds.”
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
“I do too. It doesn’t make sense that he’d run. Even if he thought you were closing in. I doubt that he killed his son, and he sure as hell wouldn’t have any reason to kill the other two. If he’s being blackmailed, whatever is the basis of it would have to be terrible to make him run.”
“Do you think he’s dead?” I asked.
“Don’t know. Maybe somebody took him.”
“We need to get J.D. over here, and see if the Atlanta police can give us a hand.”
J.D. did not answer her cell so I called the police department. I identified myself to Iva the dispatcher and asked to speak to J.D.
“Matt, we don’t know where she is.”
“What do you mean?”
“She didn’t check in this morning. She’s not answering either her cell or her home phone. I sent an officer by her condo, but she wasn’t there. The manager let him in, but there was no sign of her. Her gun belt and badge were still on the sofa and the bed wasn’t made. A full pot of coffee was on the burner. Her car is in its parking space. We’re worried.”
“What’s going on?”
“We don’t know. I’m calling all her friends. I left you a message on your home phone. Did you get it?”
“No. I haven’t checked messages this morning. You must have called while I was in the shower. Keep me posted, Iva.”
I hung up. “J.D.’s missing,” I said to Jock. “What the hell is going on?”