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Ruffling Feathers Chapter 15 - Touchstone
Somehow Amy and Paul managed to get from Vail to Piñon in one piece. Against her wishes and better judgement, Paul drove them down I-70 while she continued trying to get word of Gina—calling Dennis Brown, then calling Gina. Calling Carol Landry, then ringing Gina. Down treacherous seven percent grades and through sharp turns at breakneck speed, they descended out of the mountains. Finally, Amy remembered Jenn. Jenn, who always saw a way through the darkest morass. Jenn, who would find Annie Edgerton, and Annie would know where Gina was. To cover all the bases, Amy left messages for her sister as well as Kris Cox and Kate Gilcrest. Dennis was waiting for them in Paul's office when they finally screeched into Piñon. "I've just got off the phone with your mother," he told Amy. Then he turned to Paul, "Gina's with Jeanie Hutchins outside of Santa Fe. She called her from a phone booth in Albuquerque. Had her card in her purse. Scared out of her mind, and even more embarrassed. Gina's story is that she went to Denver with Greg Hansen for lunch, after which he drove south instead of north. Gina started getting worried when he wouldn't let her answer her beeper. He told her he just wanted to show her the countryside, but she got spooked enough to give him the slip first chance she could." "Is he in custody?" Paul asked. "He hasn't done anything illegal." "The hell he hasn't. He seduced my mother, killed my parents, and just kidnapped my sister. Get the SOB behind bars or you're fired." Dennis wisely didn't remind Paul that he didn't work for him but for the federal government. He took a different tack. "Why don't you give your sister a call?" he said. "The poor kid sounded like she didn't know whether to feel stupid or scared." "Don't yell at her, Paul," Amy blurted out as he started to dial. Paul looked as if he was going to explode at her for her presumption, but then his eyes softened and he gently touched her shoulder and swallowed hard. "I love you, Amy," he whispered into her ear. Now it was Amy's turn to swallow hard. She hadn't been prepared for such a declaration, here, now, under these circumstances. She was afraid that maybe Paul was trying to find something to hold onto as the world he knew slipped from his grasp. She wasn't sure she liked being a lifeboat. "I love you too, Paul," came her whispered
reply. She wasn't lying.
She just wasn't sure how deep a love she could feel for him.
"Call Gina—here's the number…" Amy and Paul celebrated their blessed relief from tension over Gina's disappearance with a full-scale assault on Paul's kitchen. Amy declared that she had yet to impress Paul with her culinary prowess. Paul observed that although he was plenty impressed with her all around prowess, she had his leave to impress him further. Amy sprang for a bottle of California's best and showed off her knife skills. Two hours later they were feasting on tomatillo, poblano and bean chowder. "We really should go to New Mexico in August to get peppers for salsa," Amy said, calmly weaving their lives together despite her doubts about what the future held for them. "Jenn and I will have plenty of tomatoes, especially if this heat lasts, but we really need peppers from Chimayo to make the world's best salsa." Amy followed the soup with pan-seared Ahi tuna steaks, roasted tomatoes, and grilled shiitake mushrooms in balsamic brown butter. Amy served the wine—"More and more California vintners are converting to organic grapes. Of course, I got this bottle at a benefit I was covering," she said with an impudent smile. After dinner they settled comfortably on Paul's deck and sparred over who spotted the first star as evening became night. Only then, after food and wine and stars, did Amy venture to ask Paul what he was going to do next. "This has been the toughest forty-eight hours of my life," Paul began. "The only good thing about it is that you were there through it all with me. I can't imagine how I would have survived the past two days, the past two weeks, without you," Paul said, softly stroking Amy's cheek. And then his eyes hardened and his jaw tightened. "I've been living a lie all my life. I know that now," he said bitterly. "I'm going to call in every favor ever owed to me and have the feds, including Dennis Brown, work around the clock to put together what we need to nail Greg Hansen. He killed my parents—he seduced my mother. And then after my father gave him what he had coming to him, he sabotaged their plane. Now he's after my sister. Thank God, she got away. Thank God, she had sense enough to remember that your mother promised to help her out of any jam she got herself into. I promise you one thing, Amy Hutchins, I'm going to make Greg Hansen pay for what he did." Amy sat quietly in the dark while her conscience battled her heart. The quiet little voice she had suppressed two weeks ago became more insistent. She knew that Paul's apology over his arrogant behavior wasn't sufficient. Now here he was ready to put Greg Hansen in prison on charges Amy knew he could never prove. Charges she wasn't even sure she truly believed. They didn't know whether there was anything between Greg and Anne Donovan. They had no proof that Greg had sabotaged the plane. Greg might have just been messing around with Gina—that didn't mean he was trying to hurt her. "I need to go home, Paul." Amy finally said. He looked up sharply, surprised. She stumbled on, "I have a dog to look after and a garden to tend and work to do." She stood up and cradled his face in her hands, straining to see into his eyes in the moonlight, "Please let the police and the FBI do a real investigation. We've been moving so fast, and you've been bounced every which way, that you might be jumping to conclusions." She held up her hand as he started to angrily protest, and continued quietly, "I've known Greg Hansen for a long time. I don't think he could have done something like what we've been talking about." "I knew my mother for a long time too." Week Three Monday noon, Amy was cooling her heels in the foyer outside Paul's office. She was there to meet him for lunch as they had arranged, only to be told by Carol Landry that Paul was in conference, couldn't be disturbed, but she could wait if she wanted. She waited. Fifteen minutes passed. Amy asked Carol for a drink of water. Then another five minutes. As Carol prepared to take her lunch break, Amy casually asked her when her brother was expected back in Piñon. Dave Landry had been gone almost two weeks—hardly enough time for Jenn to miss him overmuch. Carol's reply surprised her. Dave was very busy, involved in another acquisition, this time in Florida. She said he might not actually come back to Piñon, per se. Paul Donovan had already asked him to head up a merger that was shaping up. Dave was tasked with cleaning house and bringing the acquisition on board under the Donovan umbrella as soon as he got the green light. "But I thought Dave was the head of the Donovan Foundation." Carol crisply closed her desk drawers and locked them, "Dave is Paul's right hand man. He's a startup man. Gets an enterprise going and then moves on. He's too talented to be stuck in maintenance mode." "But he just moved to Piñon. He just bought a house," Amy protested, thinking of Jenn with a sinking heart. "His house is owned by Donovan Industries. The next Piñon executive, whoever Paul names, will live there, and so on." "So this is all very temporary?" Amy asked quietly. "Oh, absolutely." Carol explained smugly. "Now, the software division is here permanently. And that general manager is my new brother-in-law Rob Hurst, you know, the groom from the wedding last month. Rob and Leila will be in Piñon for awhile, until Paul promotes him." Breathless with self-satisfaction, Carol continued, "But Paul and I should be back in Chicago at headquarters soon, and then Dave will be down in Florida with our newest division." Carol Landry snapped her purse shut with martial efficiency and punched the keypad of her phone. "Angie, I'm off to lunch," she said. "I need you to man the fort for about an hour. Mr. Donovan is still in conference. I'd like you to start setting up his trip to the Delisle Conference in LA in September." And then she was off. Amy sat back down. Angie, a pert
young administrative assistant, took over guard duties, and Amy picked up
another magazine. He is his father's son,
she thought. One day he's chasing all over
Colorado trying to avenge his parent's death; the next day it's back to business
as usual. What a crazy way to live. Just as she was starting to lose patience, Paul pulled open his door and motioned her inside. His face was gray. His eyes dull. Dennis Brown was leaning against Paul's desk, cell phone in hand. He signed off and folded the phone into his breast pocket. His eyes met Amy's with professional grimness. Amy hesitated in the doorway. A sense of dread swept over her. Her stomach knotted. "Another building was blown up this morning," Paul said. Amy's hand covered her mouth as fear constricted her heart. Dennis explained that the Delisle building in Albuquerque had been the latest victim of ELF. An explosion had rocked the building at six that morning. The security guard had received a warning call minutes before it blew. No one was injured, but unlike the empty Foundation Building that ELF had destroyed in Piñon in June, the Albuquerque building had been operational. Buck Simpson, Denny Long, Carter Long, Greg Hansen, and Lisa Hutchins had all been arrested in a motel in Albuquerque. Dennis was pretty sure he had the evidence to charge them with destroying the Foundation building as well. Greg's was the last trial. Simpson and the Long brothers had all been convicted of arson, burglary, and a litany of other crimes against the state. Greg was charged with the murder of George and Anne Donovan as well. They left the best for last. They were out to prove that Greg had been the ringleader, operating on ten-year-old hatred. Lisa had walked. She had bargained her way to immunity and was actually dating one of the cops who had arrested her. Amy found herself smiling, amazed at the resilience and survival skills of her younger sister. She was less sure of her older sister. Jenn wasn't doing well. After Amy had fled from Piñon for London and Dave Landry had failed to return to Colorado, the daily grind of teaching, even with its myriad rewards in the form of crayoned love letters, was wearing her down. She wanted her own home, not just rent-free residence in her sister's house. She wanted her own family. The ticking of her biological clock was starting to deafen all other noises. She wanted Dave to come back. She wanted Amy to be happy again. She wanted Dave. Just Dave. Amy walked up the jetway and into the glare of the Denver airport terminal and Jenn's warm embrace. "I've missed you, Amy," Jenn whispered, clutching her sister's hair in a hard hug. "Oh, Jenn. I can't believe I'm saying this, but it's good to be home." "And why shouldn't it be? We've needed you here." Amy's defense of Greg Hansen was simple. She had known Greg for eight years. Lived with him for five. She had broken off the relationship last summer, mid-June, because she was interested in someone else. She told about Greg's return to Piñon shortly after they broke up, the night the Donovan Foundation building exploded. He had slept on her couch. He had arrived between two and three in the morning. Anything unusual about his appearance? Well, his clothes were really dirty. He said that was because he had been travelling from Chili, by plane, by bus, hitchhiking. She answered questions about her relationship with Paul Donovan. Yes, they had started out as adversaries and became friends. Okay, more than friends. Yes, Paul told her that he believed Greg to be responsible for his parents' death. Yes, Paul told her that he believed Greg was stalking his sister Gina. She didn't have to answer whether she thought Paul was paranoid because that question was overruled. Yes, she talked to Greg Hansen after he was arrested in Albuquerque—he confessed to her that he had tried to seduce Anne Donovan ten years ago in Vail, but she wasn't interested. Instead, she had invited him over to her condo and had fed him and mothered him. He remembered that she told him how worried she was about her husband. He was working too hard, she had said. Becoming obsessed with controlling everything around him. Amy related how Greg had told her that Anne Donovan had taken a ski lesson with him the Sunday after Thanksgiving, that was when he had tried to get her to go to bed with him. He had thought he was dealing with just another lonely, rich socialite. Then she told the court how Greg Hansen had told her that Anne Donovan had scheduled two more lessons with him, but they had just talked, hadn't even skied one run. She missed her son, who was in Europe. She missed her daughter, who was home at school. She just wanted to go home too—walk on the beach and sit on the dunes and read poetry and write letters. She was homesick and afraid that her husband was slipping away from her, chasing power and money and prestige. Then Amy had to tell the court how Paul had reacted when she told him what Greg had told her. He had exploded. They had argued. He had asked Amy to never talk to Greg again. Amy told the court that she hadn't talked to Paul since she had left for a new job in London last October. Now it was the prosecution's turn. Once more, Amy had to tell the court about the night Greg Hansen slept on her couch. How dirty his clothes were. The question regarding whether she thought clothes got that dirty just from someone travelling was overruled. She got to tell the court about her mother's reaction when she saw Gina Donovan for the first time. She repeated Jeanie Hutchins's words that Gina looked exactly like Anne Donovan. She told the court that she had seen Greg Hansen helping Gina Donovan mend a bike tire on a lonely country road. No, she didn't know Greg to be an avid cyclist. No, she didn't know whether he owned a bike. Yes, they had lived together for five years. No, she had never seen him ride a bike during that time. Amy testified that Greg had told her that he had never worked at Vail. She testified that he told her Drew Dawson "bad-mouthed" him to the head of the Vail ski school. She testified that Greg Hansen had a reputation for sleeping with his female clients. She was grateful that the prosecutor didn't ask her why she had only just broken up with him, given his reputation. She testified that Greg often had checks for up to a thousand dollars from women whose names she didn't know—how did she know about the checks? He asked her to deposit them for him. The defense had one more chance. Amy was asked whether she knew that Greg Hansen was accused of being an ELF ringleader. Amy looked at the handsome man-boy with the sun-streaked hair and the lost look in his eyes, sitting tensely at the defendant's table. In a steady voice that belied the tears in her eyes, she answered, "I don't think Greg could lead a dog out of a paper bag, much less lead a band of radical environmentalists." Did she know that he was accused of bringing down a plane? "He couldn't. Not unless he was flying it." "Thank you, Miss Hutchins. No further questions."
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