Stand by Becky Johnson Read Free Book Online Page B

There are no good answers.”
    “What do you mean? Who are you?” But I was talking to a dial tone.
    The previous afternoon, after Jack had left my home, I tried to distract myself with Jimmy’s case. I called and sent multiple e-mails to every number and e-mail address I could locate for employees of Johnson, Lewes, and Ferguson. Apparently someone I had contacted knew something. All that creepy call did was prove I was on the right track. I was now convinced that whatever happened to Jimmy, it had everything to do with his job.
    I looked over the work I did yesterday and made a list of everyone I had talked to. One of them knew something important. Starting with the first name on the list, I wrote down everything I knew about them and what things I still needed to find out.
    Cindy Carter – Jimmy’s assistant, fifty-three years old, worked for Johnson, Lewes, and Ferguson for the last ten years.
    Dylan Kravitz – an associate, thirty-two years old, worked for Johnson, Lewes, and Ferguson for about six months before Jimmy’s disappearance.
    Lori Claret – another Junior Partner, forty-one years old, worked for Johnson, Lewes, and Ferguson for eight years. She was currently working out of Jimmy’s old office.
    Daniel Jones – senior partner, sixty-three years old, worked for Johnson, Lewes, and Ferguson for twenty-nine years. His focus was Elder and Estate law.
    I left messages or sent e-mails to all of them. The caller was whispering so it was hard to be certain about gender, but I think that the caller was a woman. That left Cindy Carter and Lori Claret. It was time to dig a little deeper. I googled both of them. Lori had a LinkedIn page and was included in a few press releases from the firm. I could not find anything on Cindy Carter. I sent both women new messages. I didn’t say anything about the phone call. I just said I was following up on the requested information and hoped to hear from them soon.
    I was in the middle of updating my Jimmy timeline with the names of the four people/suspects/informants when my cellphone rang. This time it was Jack. He had information and asked me to come to his office.
    ______
    It was three in the afternoon before I made it across the Ben Franklin Bridge and to the Philadelphia FBI office. I remembered the last time I was here vividly. I was a different person then. I didn’t even know Jack. The files I brought him that day changed us both. But I didn’t have time for self-reflection or analyzing our maladroit relationship. Jack had information on Georgia. I parked outside the glass fronted offices, locked my black SUV behind me and went into the building.
    When I arrived at the main reception desk I realized how frumpy I looked. My everyday clothing had become workout clothes. At that moment my pale blonde hair was in a ponytail, I had on a pair of gray sweatpants and under my heavy down jacket was a long sleeve t-shirt. In sharp contrast to my ultra-casual appearance, the receptionist looked like a fashion model. Her short brown hair was perfectly styled, her makeup was professionally applied, and her suit was designer with a perfectly tailored fit. Compared to her I looked like a thirty year old slacker wannabe teenager. I hadn’t considered my looks in months, but this hit hard. This was Jack’s world. That beautiful woman was his daily reality. Right then I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. It was time for some serious shopping. I promised myself that after meeting with Jack I would step it up, stop letting the past control me, and I would do something to take care of myself.
    Even with that promise in mind it was painful being escorted into Jack’s office by the fashion model. He gave us both a long look. I felt sure that Jack was comparing the two of us and I was the obvious loser.
    Jack politely thanked the receptionist and closed the door behind her. His office was small, more like a cubicle. There was a desk, a phone, and an incredibly uncomfortable