19- Trust in yourself

Emma responded, gaze narrowed. “Does she need legal
representation?”
“Not if she’sinnocent.”
“Innocent of what?” Emma asked.
“Never mind. I am,” Hazel said.
“Back up a minute,” Lauren said. “I thought she wasjust some sort of
witness you were trying to question. Why is there any doubt about
Hazel’sinnocence? Hazel has never done anything illegal in her entire
life.”
“Not even when Cassie begged her to,” Karen said in an obvious attempt to
lighten the tense mood. “She was always the voice of calm and reason.” She
grinned. “Not that the rest of us ever paid any attention to her.”
Hazel held up a hand to prevent a recitation of the pranks the Calamity Janes
had been involved with years ago. A few of them might have skirted the fringes
of the law. A clever attorney—which Mr. Lee most definitely was—might be
able touse them to suggest a pattern of behavior likely to culminate in this
massive swindle.
“Let’s not go there,” she pleaded. “Could we change the subject?”
“In a minute,” Emma promised. “First, I’d like to remind Mr. O’Donnell that
sometimes the innocent need better representation than the guilty, especially if
some shark is out to get them.” She regarded Mr. Lee pointedly. “Watch your
step, Mr. O’Donnell.”
Her gaze shifted to Hazel. “Stay away from him,” she advised.
“I wish I could,” Hazel told her.
“I’m crushed,” he said.
“Something tells me a freight train couldn’t crush your ego,” she retorted.
“Making judgments about me again?”
She shrugged. “I guessthat makes us even, doesn’t it?”
He laughed and slid from the booth. “See you around, Hazel.”
“I’m sure,” she said with a heartfelt sigh.
Somehow, though, in the last few minutesshe had discovered that Mr. Lee
wasfar more complex and intriguing than she’d oriHazellly guessed. That
made theprospect of bumping into him everywhere she turned a lot less
daunting. She figured that was a very bad sign, given that the man wanted to
lock her away.
Mr. Lee assumed Hazel wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while. He had a
feeling these friendly gabfests went on and on once the five women got together.
Just in case he was wrong, he walked down the block, leaned against the bumper
of his rental car and placed a call on his cell phone to the paralegal who was
doing follow-up on the case back in New York.
“Have you been able to get into the bank records of Café Tuscany or Rinaldi
or Petrillo yet?” he asked Joan Lansing.
“The judge is looking over the paperwork now,” Joan told him. “We should
know something before the end of the day.”
“I need those records. We need to see if any withdrawals and deposits match
up.”
“I know, boss. I think we made a good case to the judge, though, if you ask
me, that money is in some offshore account by now, not in a personal checking
account at the corner bank.”
Mr. Lee sighed. “You’re probably right, but we need to know for
certain.” “Anything else I can do on this end?”
“Stay on that investigator. He should have found something on Rinaldi’s
whereabouts by now.”
“Will do. No cluesfrom Ms. Petrillo?”
“None. I’m actually beginning to believe she might not know anything, not
about the con and not about Rinaldi’s disappearance.”
“How isthat possible? They were partners.”
“We already know the man was a smooth operator. She could have been
taken in by him, too.”
“Uh-oh, boss. I think I hear that knight on a white horse charging to the
rescue.”
“Could be,” he conceded. “But please don’t tell Lydia. She’ll never let me
hear the end of it.”
He glanced up just in time to see Hazel and the other women emerging from
Stella’s. They piled into Lauren’s fancy sports utility vehicle. Mr. Lee got
behind the wheel of his own rental car and started after them. His pulse began to
pound when he realized they were heading straight for the small airstrip on the
outskirtsof town.
Sure enough, Lauren turned in, drove to a hangar operated by a charter
company and parked. Blood boiling, Mr. Lee stalked acrossthe tarmac to
interceptthem.
“Going somewhere?” he asked Hazel.
“You followed us?” she countered, her expression indignant.
“Of course I did. It’s a good thing, too. Are you planning on skipping town?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes,” Emma snapped. “There is nothing to prevent her
from going anywhere, Mr. O’Donnell. Back off.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Then you’ll have to charter your own plane, because you’re not getting on board with us,” Lauren snapped.
Mr. Lee ignored them both and kept his gaze on Hazel. “Why the sudden
decision to run?”
“I’m not running anywhere.”
“Then why didn’t you mention thistrip when we were talking?”
“It didn’t come up. Besides, Lauren was still working out the details. I didn’t
know if we were going.”
“Going where?” he asked.
She frowned at him, but she answered with barely concealed impatience. “I
am going to Denver with my friends because Cassie’s mother is having surgery.
We want to be there to support her. It’s not a big deal. We’ll be back in a day or
so, as soon as we know that everything’s okay.”
Mr. Lee caught the unmistakable worry in her eyes, the hint of urgency in
hervoice. Because of his career, because of his mother’s short-term attention
spanwith men, he was a cynical man. There weren’t a lot of people he trusted.
Something told him he could trust Hazel, at least about this.
Finally he nodded and stepped out of her path. “Don’t make me regret this,”
he warned.
“I won’t,” she promised. Her lips curved into the beginnings of a smile.
“Careful, Mr. Lee. Someone might get the idea that you have a heart.”
“They’d be wrong,” he said tightly, then watched her go. As she was about
to take the final step into the plane, he called to her. She looked back. “I hope
everything goes okay with Cassie’s mother.”
She acknowledged his words with a wave, then disappeared inside the plane.
Mr. Lee walked slowly back into the hangar, then crossed to the office.
Inside, he found a middle-aged woman chatting on the phone. She glanced
up, murmured something to whoever was on the other end of the line, then
smiled at Mr. Lee.
“What can I do for you?”
“That charter you’ve got going out, did the pilot file a flight plan?”
“He sure did. Plus, when Lauren called, she told me where they’re going.”
“Which is?”
Her gaze narrowed. “Are you with the media?”
“No.”
“Because I’m not doing or saying anything that’s going to get that woman’s
picture splashed all over one of those supermarket tabloids. When she’s around
here, she’s among friends. What she does and where she goes is nobody’s
business.”