Easy Innocence

Chapter 39

GEORGIA DROVE the few blocks to the Walcher home, planning to leave Lauren's cell phone in the mailbox. She wasn't eager for another encounter with either Walcher. She parked on the road at the edge of the stand of evergreens that shielded the house from view. Grabbing the phone, she climbed out of the car and looked around. The houses up here were huge, and many of them had private drives, which meant the mailbox could be hundreds of yards from the house. She checked both ends of the semi-circular driveway, but didn't see it.

She started to trudge through the trees, enjoying the crisp, snappy scent of pine and juniper. It must have rained overnight, because the ground was soft, and chunks of dirt clung to her shoes. She was about to break through the cover of trees when she stopped. A black Jaguar was parked in the driveway, its engine running. A man was in the driver's seat, and Andrea Walcher was leaning over the driver's side window.

Georgia stared at the man behind the wheel. She could only see his profile, but he had curly gray hair, and he was wearing a warm-up jacket. He looked familiar. She ducked behind a tree.

"I need to talk to you," Andrea said to the man in the car. "Is everything kosher with the land deal?"

Georgia saw the man's head bob up and down.

"Then why did Fred say it wasn't?" Andrea's voice was tense.

The man cocked his head. Georgia could just make out his reply. "I haven't the slightest idea."

Andrea straightened up and folded her arms. "Look. I know he was upset about something. But he didn't have time to get into it before he died. Tom won't talk to me about it, so I'm asking you what's going on."

His response was so low Georgia had to strain to hear him. "Everything's fine, Andrea."

"Don't patronize me. He was my brother, Harry."

Harry Perl. The real estate developer she'd seen at North Shore Fitness with Tom Walcher and Ricki Feldman.

"I would never do that." Suddenly his tone oozed empathy. "It's just that—well, Tom took care of the details. We're almost ready to start construction. Things are proceeding nicely."

Andrea cut him off. "Then why did Fred say he wanted to go to the authorities?" Her body language spoke anger, but something else was there too. Worry. Maybe a touch of fear.

The man's shoulders hunched. "I wasn't aware of that. Ask your husband."

Andrea stared into the car for a moment, then turned on her heel and went inside.

Perl rolled up his window and pulled away from the house. Georgia waited until the Jag was out of sight. The mailbox was in front of the house just to the right of the goldfish pond. She quietly placed Lauren's phone inside.

***

Fred was Andrea's brother. "Uncle Fred," Georgia recalled on the way home. He had suspicions about a land deal he and Harry Perl were involved in, but he died before he could do anything about it. Now his sister, Lauren's mother, was following up.

Georgia thought back to the conversation she'd overheard between Perl and Walcher and Ricki Feldman at the health club. She'd been distracted by seeing Ricki, but she thought she remembered something about a deal that required Tom Walcher's help. Walcher was expected to soften up the village board. Perl—or was it Ricki?—had told him to use his "leverage." Whatever that "leverage" was. Was this the same deal?

She parked on Asbury and headed back to her apartment. Andrea Walcher had been livid in Starbucks, throwing around wild accusations and threats. Was this part of what was troubling her? Maybe Georgia should look into it. It wasn't directly related to Cam Jordan or Sara Long, but she couldn't move forward with the prostitution angle without Lauren's help, and the last thing she needed was to be cut off from the girl. If she uncovered anything significant about the land deal, maybe she could use it to convince Andrea to let her keep talking to Lauren. Apply a little "leverage" of her own.