Best Laid Plans (Lucy Kincaid, #9)

“Anything you tell us is important to determine his state of mind last night,” Lucy said. “Especially if it’s out of character.”


“It’s hearsay.” Debbie glanced from Lucy to Barry. “My husband saw Harper entering a dive bar on North Zarzamora. A place you go when you don’t want anyone to see you. Donny is a therapist who works with disabled veterans. It was a chance sighting—Donny was working with a vet who is severely scarred and didn’t want to leave his apartment.”

“Did you ask Mr. Worthington about it?”

“No, of course not—he’s entitled to his privacy. It was just out of character. And then, after that, he started working later and on weekends. He often worked late, but rarely worked weekends.”

“Print out his schedule for the last four weeks,” Barry said, “and we’ll also need his phone records, personal and business.”

“Of course. Anything that will help.”

Lucy asked, “How was the Worthingtons’ marriage?”

Barry shot her a glance, but she ignored it.

Debbie said, “If you’d asked me three weeks ago, I would have said idyllic. He was so proud of Adeline and all that she’s accomplished.”

“And now?”

“Why is this important?” Debbie asked.

“It’s not,” Barry said. “We’re just trying to get a sense of who Harper Worthington was and why he would feel the need to use the services of a prostitute.”

She stared at him in stark disbelief. “He wouldn’t,” she said.

“Evidence suggests differently.”

“I don’t care what your evidence shows, he’s not that kind of man. You can ask anyone who knows him, his friends or even his business competitors, and no one will believe you. They will all agree that he’s a man of faith and integrity.”

She sounded personally offended. Harper Worthington had instilled a deep loyalty in his staff, Lucy realized. Then why did his wife have a different impression?

Debbie continued. “If there were problems in their marriage, Mr. Worthington wouldn’t seek out companionship elsewhere. He would work it out. It’s what he did with everything.”

“Would he talk to his daughter?”

“No, not about his marriage.”

“Why?”

“This isn’t relevant.”

“Let us be the judge of that,” Barry said.

Debbie bristled, but said, “Jolene and Adeline didn’t really get along. Jolene was a daddy’s girl for a long time, and Harper adores her. It was the two of them. Harper did everything for Jolene, and she has a great respect for her father. Jolene simply didn’t have the opportunity to get to know Adeline because she was away in college at the beginning of their relationship, and that caused some friction.”

“Between father and daughter?”

“Oh, no. If Jolene had told Harper not to get married, he wouldn’t have. She wanted him to be happy. The friction was between Jolene and Adeline. You know how some fathers think their daughter’s boyfriend will never be good enough to be a husband? That’s how Jolene was with Adeline, that no woman would be good enough for her father. But as far as Harper was concerned, Jolene had no issues. She kept them private. They both were very private people.”

“Then how do you know about them?” Lucy asked pointedly.

“I’m observant. And since Jolene married Scott last year, she’s mellowed out.” Debbie frowned. “That probably isn’t a polite thing to say.” She pulled a file folder from her drawer and put all the papers she’d printed out inside and handed it to Barry. “Schedule and phone records.”

Gregor Smith walked into Debbie’s office. He went over to her and squeezed her shoulders. “Why don’t you go home?” he suggested.

She shook her head. “Donny is working today. I don’t want to be alone.”

“If you need anything, let me know.” He then turned to Barry and Lucy. “Our tech guy has some information about Harper’s phone that I think you should see.”

*



The IT department was in the basement. Their servers were state-of-the-art and they didn’t skimp on staff. “Corporate espionage has moved high-tech,” Smith said. “It’s becoming rare for competitors to come on-site to steal secrets—they’re far more likely to use cyberspace.”

He knocked on the window of a glass-enclosed office. A young tech in jeans and a polo shirt with the HWI logo on the pocket swiveled in his chair. “This is Todd,” Smith said. “He’s the one who ran the report. I’ll let him share the information.”