Page 116 of Long Gone

When I’d researched Malcolm weeks ago, I’d concentrated my search on his ties to the international crime syndicate. But I’d seen articles tying him to Simmons the year before.

Was this why Malcolm was interested in Hugo Burton’s murder?

“What did you do for Simmons?”

“I told you. Contracts and such.”

“Supposedly J.R. Simmons had his hands in things all over the state. Did you do business for him in Lone County or all over?”

He looked down at his desk, the sweat marks now appearing as greasy spots. “Southeast Arkansas.”

I shook my head. “The man lived in El Dorado. Why would he hire an attorney sixty miles away in a podunk town?” I asked in disbelief, then added, “No disrespect to your skills or reputation.”

A sheepish look filled his eyes. “I wondered that too, but he charmed me, and I fell for it hook, line, and sinker.” He shook his head. “I’m a fool, Harper.” His gaze lifted to mine. “I should have known not to move forward when he told me our work together had to happen outside of my law office. That it was between us.”

“Oh, Dad.”

“Nothing I did was illegal. At least not in the beginning. Simple contracts. I rarely even saw the man. We talked on the phone and used email.”

“When did it change?” I asked, terrified to hear his answer.

“With Hugo Burton.”

My stomach churned and I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. “Tell me everything.”

His chin quivered again. “J.R. was paying me good money to draw up his property contracts, so I had money to invest. I knew Hugo through mutual friends, and he told a small group of people at a party about Sunny Point. He hadn’t done anything with it yet. He’d just bought the land. It was still in the first phase, with the executive lots. The second phase wasn’t announced until a few years later.” He drew a breath. “Anyway, he said he was looking for investors, and I was flush with money, so the next day we went out to lunch, and he showed me his business plan and his forecasts for net worth.” He put his hands on the desk again, his thumb absently picking at the skin of his finger. “I’m not a stupid man, Harper. It all looked legit.”

“No, Dad, you’re not a stupid man.” Maybe that was why I was so upset he’d gotten involved in this. He should have been smarter.

He nodded, looking grateful for my acknowledgment, then swallowed hard. “My mistake was in telling J.R. I’d drawn up the contracts for the investors. I knew Hugo needed more capital, so I mentioned it to J.R., who asked me to set up a meeting.”

“Did Simmons invest?”

He shook his head. “I have no idea. If he did, I didn’t see the contract. And I didn’t ask questions. J.R. and I didn’t have that kind of relationship. But I brought it up with Hugo later. While he acknowledged JR had contacted him, he seemed reluctant to tell me more so I let it drop.”

“Did you make a boilerplate contract for Hugo to use? Or did people have different terms?”

“He used the same contract for almost everyone. I gave him the template with spaces to fill in with names and addresses and the amount invested. He changed the terms for a couple of people and had me look over the alterations. Otherwise, he handled the contracts himself.”

“That’s unusual, isn’t it?” I asked.

“It depends.” He made a face. “Smaller operations will use a boilerplate template for the first phase. But he kept hitting setbacks and then he purchased the second property, which made him cash-poor and land-rich. While it would have been in everyone’s best interest for him to have an attorney look over every contract, he simply couldn’t afford it. He asked me, of course, but I told him it would be imprudent for me to help him with the other contracts since I was an investor.” Guilt filled his eyes.

“But you did it anyway.”

He paled. “I did, because I’d invested money, and I needed it to all come through. But I was beginning to have doubts. He started suggesting I look at contracts pro bono, so I told him to find someone else.” His mouth twisted to one side. “I’ve always wondered if that was a mistake.”

“Did he provide you with a yearly update? Anything official?”

He hesitated. “At first, yes. It was all on the up and up, but he took hit after hit, and the reports weren’t good…” He paused. “He stopped sending them, and I stopped asking. He always looked so defeated.”

“Did you know who the other investors were?”

“I knew of some, but there might have been others.”

“Who do you remember?”

“Brett Colter. Skip Martin. Billy O’Murphy. Tim Heaton. And some guy I didn’t know much about. Pete something.”

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