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“All I can tell you is I tried to find that out and ran right into a stone wall. I do know that Roy is probably the most high-profile inmate they have right now.”
“Until he’s supplanted by an even crazier psycho.”
“Excuse me?”
They turned to find a young man in a blue smock standing at the doorway. He held a small electronic pad. “Sean King and Michelle Maxwell?”
They rose together, towering over the shorter man. “That’s right,” said Sean.
“Here to see Edgar Roy?”
Sean was prepared to have a fight on his hands about them being able to see the man. But Blue Smock merely said, “Please follow me.”
A minute later he handed them off to a woman who was far more intimidating. Nearly as tall as Michelle but considerably wider and heavier, she looked capable of holding down the nose tackle position for a Division I football team. She introduced herself as Carla Dukes, the director of Cutter’s Rock. When her long fingers clamped around Michelle’s in a handshake, Michelle wondered if the woman used to call herself Carl.
Her office was a fourteen-by-fourteen square. A desk with a computer, three chairs counting hers, and nothing else. No file cabinets, no pictures of family or friends, no paintings on the wall, no view outside the room, nothing personal whatsoever.
“Please sit,” she said. They sat. She slid open her drawer, retrieved a red file, and opened it on her desk. “I understand that Ted Bergin is dead.”
Thanks for getting right to the point, thought Sean. And now here comes the fig
ht.
He said, “That’s right. The police and FBI are investigating. But we’re still scheduled to meet with Edgar Roy today and we didn’t want to forego that opportunity.”
“The appointment was for Ted Bergin and you accompanying him.”
“Well, he obviously can’t be here,” said Sean, his voice calm but firm.
“Of course not, but I’m not sure that in light of the circumstances—”
Michelle said, “But his defense will continue. He will be tried at some point. He is entitled to representation. And Sean is also a licensed attorney working with Ted Bergin.”
Dukes eyed Sean. “Is that right? I just thought you were both investigators.”
“I wear two hats,” said Sean, smoothly picking up on Michelle’s spur-of-the-moment tactic. “I’m a licensed PI and attorney in the Commonwealth of Virginia, where Roy will ultimately stand trial for the charges against him.”
“Do you have some evidence of that?”
Sean handed her his State Bar ID. “A call to Richmond will verify it,” he said.
She handed the card back. “So what exactly do you want to talk to Mr. Roy about?”
“Well, that’s confidential. If I told you, it would break the attorney-client privilege. That would be malpractice on my part.”
“It’s a delicate situation. Mr. Roy is a special case.”
“So we’re finding out,” interjected Michelle.
“We really need to see him,” added Sean.
“The FBI called this morning,” said Dukes.
“I’m sure they did,” said Sean. “Was it Special Agent Murdock?”
She ignored this. “He said that the murder of Ted Bergin might have something to do with his representation of Edgar Roy.”
“Do you think it does?” asked Michelle.
