Easy Innocence

Chapter 49

GEORGIA CALLED Andrea Walcher's cell, hoping to get Tom's cell phone number, but Andrea didn't pick up. Georgia left a message to call her back. She considered calling Lauren for her father's number, but decided not to. Now that Andrea Walcher was cooperating, Georgia needed to "manage" her relationships with mother and daughter. They were both her allies—for the moment—but it was a tenuous balance. If Lauren knew her mother was involved, she might pull away. But Georgia needed Andrea—she was more informed about her brother's property and in a better position to help.

She paged through the website files Lauren had printed out for her. According to the files, Sara's last trick with Charlie was Wednesday, September 14. Three days before she was killed. And barely a week after Fred Stewart died in the fire.

She went online and downloaded a picture of Walcher from his law firm's website. His bio said he'd been with Phelps and Mahoney for twenty years, and was head of the Real Estate Practice in Chicago. He had gone to the University of Chicago Law School, and he was a member of the firm's Executive Management Committee.

Early Saturday morning, Georgia drove back to the McCormick Hotel. Most of the business clientele had departed the previous day, and the lobby was quiet. The coffee shop was virtually empty, but a fire roared in the fireplace, and a man sat before it poring over a newspaper. A hotel employee in a white jacket and black pants whisked the surfaces of tables with a brush.

Georgia went to the clerks at the front desk. At resort hotels, the weekend shift was the most important and was manned by senior staff. Not here. A young man and woman, neither of whom looked more than twenty, stood behind the marble counter. They both wore crisp white shirts, red ties, and gray blazers with the hotel insignia embroidered in gold on their pockets. Georgia debated which one to approach. The girl might be more cooperative, and she didn't want suck up to the guy just to get information. Then again, the girl could be the type who always played by the rules.

Deciding to take her chances on the girl, she had just stepped up to the counter when another woman joined them. She wore same uniform as the others, but she was older and rounder, and when Georgia looked more closely, she spotted the word "Manager" on her jacket insignia. A pair of reading glasses was perched on her nose. She started to talk to the two clerks, gesturing to a sheet of paper in her hands.

Georgia was only a few feet away, and after a moment the woman looked up. A jolt of recognition seized her. It was the same woman who'd given her coffee the morning she and Matt broke up. The woman flashed her a puzzled smile that said she thought she knew Georgia too, but couldn't quite place her.

Georgia recovered first. "Good morning. You probably don't remember me, but you did something very kind two years ago."

"I did?"

The other two clerks stopped what they were doing. The woman smiled triumphantly, as if to say "I told you service was important."

"You were working in the coffee shop. I had just broken up with my boyfriend. You poured me a cup of coffee. Said you thought I could use it."

The woman's eyes widened. "I remember." She studied Georgia. "You were looking quite poorly that morning."

"I felt poorly."

The woman's glance swept the lobby. "You're—you're not back with him..."

"No." Georgia laughed.

"Good. So where's your new guy?"

"I don't have one. My name is Georgia Davis, by the way." She extended her hand.

"Sherry Diehl." They shook. "How can we help you?" Her gesture included the two clerks.

"Actually, it's a personal matter."

The woman gazed at Georgia, then turned to her charges. "It's still slow. Why don't you two head into the office and catch up on invoices?"

The clerks retreated into the back room. Once they were out of earshot, Georgia leaned slightly forward and placed her hands on the counter. "I'm an investigator and I'm working on a case. I have a photo of a man, and I'd like to know if you recognize him."

Suspicion registered on the manager's face. "Are you with the police?"

Georgia told her the truth. "Up until last winter, I was. I'm working privately now. But the police are working the same case. You may have heard about it." She summarized it.

Although the lobby was warm, the manager shuddered. "I did hear. I have a fifteen year old daughter." She frowned. "Wait. I thought they got the guy. A sex offender, something like that? Preying on young girls?"

"There's evidence that suggests he didn't kill the girl."

"Is that so?" When Georgia nodded, she added, "And you're trying to find the real killer?"

"We think a man who—may be connected to it—stayed here several times." She pulled out the picture of Tom Walcher. "Do you know him?"

Sherry studied it. Then she looked up. Georgia saw the recognition in her eyes.

"Thank you."

Sherry nodded. "Is that all?"

"Well, there is something else. I have reason to believe he was here on September 14th. It would help me out a lot if you could confirm that."

"You want me to check our records."

Georgia nodded again.

Sherry didn't say anything for a moment. Then, in a quiet voice she said, "I can't do that."

Georgia winced. "We can subpoena them, but you could save us a lot of time. And money."

"I don't think you heard me." Sherry's voice was firm. "Our records are highly confidential. I could get fired for going into them without authorization."

"You wouldn't have to speak or say anything," Georgia persisted. "Just nod or shake your head." When the woman didn't reply, she laid it on thick. "This is a bad guy. If we don't get him, he could go on killing. Do you really want him out there? What if he runs into your daughter?" It was a shitty thing to say, but she needed the information.

Still, Sherry shook her head. "I'm afraid you'll have to go through our corporate office. I can give you a name if you're interested."

Georgia's shoulders sagged. In a perverse sort of way, though, she wasn't sorry. Sherry Diehl was no pushover. The world needed more women like her. She let Sherry write down the name of some corporate officer and headed back to her car.

She had just exited 94 on Dempster heading toward Evanston when her cell trilled. She pulled to the side of the road and answered. It was Andrea Walcher with her husband's cell number. Georgia could have kissed the woman. As soon as she got home she called her source in Florida. He said she'd have to pay double for a 24-hour-over-the-weekend turnaround. She gave him her credit card number without complaint.