"Six.
"How did you get back into law?"
"I was bored sitting home when Kathy started preschool. Rick and I talked it over and we decided I would practice out of our home, so I would be there for Kathy.
Margaret McKinnon, a friend of mine from law school, let me use her conference room to meet clients. I didn't have much of a caseload. A few court-appointed misdemeanors, some simple divorces. just enough to keep me busy.
"Then Margaret offered me a windowless office about the size of a broom closet, rent free, in exchange for twenty hours of free legal work each month. I agonized over that, but Rick said it was okay. He thought it would be good for me to get out of the house, as long as I kept my caseload low enough to pick up Kathy at day care and stay home with her if she got sick. You know, still be a mom. Anyway, it worked out fine and I started picking up some felonies and a few contested divorces that paid better."
"The Peterson case was your big break, right?"
"Yeah. One day I was sitting around without much to do and the clerk who assigns court-appointed cases asked me if I'd represent Grace Peterson.
I didn't know much about the battered woman's syndrome, but I remembered seeing Dr. Lenore Walker on a TV talk show. She's the expert in this area. The court authorized the money and Lenore came out from Denver and evaluated Grace. It was pretty horrible, what her husband did. I'd led a sheltered life, I guess. No one where I grew up did things like that."
"No one you knew about."
Betsy nodded sadly. "No one I knew about. Anyway, the case attracted a lot of publicity. We had the support of some women's groups and the press was behind us. After the acquittal, my business really picked up.
Then Andrea hired me because of the verdict in Grace's case."
The waiter arrived with their coffee. Sloane looked at her watch. "You said you had a one-thirty appointment, didn't you?"
Betsy glanced at her own watch. "Is it one-ten already? I really got wrapped up in this."
"Good. I was hoping you'd be as excited about the project as I am."
"I am. Why don't you call me and we can talk again soon.
"Great. I'll do that. And thanks for taking the time. I really appreciate it."
Randy Highsmith shook the rain off his umbrella and laid it on the floor under the dashboard as Alan Page drove out of the parking garage. The umbrella hadn't helped much in the gusting rain and Highsmith was cold and wet.
Highsmith was slightly overweight, studious-looking, a staunch conservative and the best prosecutor in the office, Page included. While earning a law degree from Georgetown he'd fallen in love with Patty Archer, a congressional aide. He then fell in love with Portland when he traveled there to meet Patty's family. When her congressman decided not to run for reelection, the newlyweds moved west, where Patty opened a political consulting firm and Randy was snapped up by the office of the Multnomah County district attorney.
"Tell me about Darius," Page said as they got on the freeway.
"He moved to Portland eight years ago. He had money to start with and borrowed on his assets. Darius made his name, and increased his fortune, by gambling on the revitalization of downtown Portland. His first big success was the Couch Street Boutique. He bought a block of dilapidated buildings for a song, converted them to an indoor mall, then changed the area surrounding the boutique into the trendiest section in Portland by leasing renovated buildings to upscale shops and restaurants at low rents. As business increased, so did the rents. The upper floors of a lot of the buildings were converted to condos. That's been his pattern.
Buy up all the buildings in a slum area, set up a core attraction, then build around it. Recently he's branched out into suburban malls, apartment complexes, and so on.
"Two years ago, Darius married Lisa Ryder, the daughter of Oregon Supreme Court justice Victor Ryder.
Ryder's old firm, Parish, Marquette and Reeves, handles his legal work.
I talked to a few friends over there in confidence. Darius is brilliant and unscrupulous. Half the firm's energy is spent keeping him honest.
The other half is spent defending lawsuits when they fail."
"What's 'unscrupulous' mean? Law violations, ethics, what?"
"Nothing illegal. But he has his own set of rules and a total disregard for the feelings of others. For instance, earlier this year he bought up a street of historically significant houses over in the Northwest, so he could tear them down and build town houses. There were several citizen groups up in arms. They got a temporary injunction and were trying to get the houses landmark status. A smart young lawyer at Parish, Marquette convinced the judge to drop the injunction. Darius moved bulldozers in at night and leveled the block before anyone knew what was going on.
"A guy like that must have done something illegal."
"The closest I've got is a rumor that he's friendly with Manuel Ochoa, a Mexican businessman who the D.E.A. thinks is laundering money for a South American drug cartel. Ochoa may be lending Darius money for a big project downstate that was risky enough to scare off some of the banks."
"What about his past?" Page asked as they drove the parking lot of the Lakeview Motel. into "Doesn't have one, which makes sense if he's Lake."
"Did you check newspaper stories, profiles?"
"I did better than that. I spoke to the Oregonian's top business reporter. Darius does not give interviews about his private life. For all anyone knows, he was born eight years ago."
Page pulled into a parking spot in front of the motel office. The dashboard clock read five twenty-six.
"Stay here. I'll see if Gordon's back."
"Okay. But there's one other thing you should know." Page waited with the car door half-open. "We've got a link between our missing women and Darius."
Page closed the door. Highsmith smiled.
"I saved the best for last. Tom Reiser, the husband of Wendy Reiser, works for Parish, Marquette. He's the lawyer who convinced the judge to drop the injunction. Last Christmas, the Reisers attended a party at the Darius estate. This summer, they were invited to a bash to celebrate the opening of a mall, two weeks before the disappearances started. Reiser has had numerous business dealings with Darius.
"Larry Farrar's accounting firm has Darius Construction for a client. He and Laura Farrar were at the party for the mall opening too. He's done a lot of work for Darius.
"Finally, there's Victoria Miller. Her husband, Russell, works for Brand, Gates and Valcroft. That's the advertising firm. that represents Darius Construction.
Russell was just put in charge of the account. They've been on Darius's yacht and to his house. They were also at the mall opening party."
"That's unbelievable. Look, I want a list of the women at that party.
We've got to alert Bill Tobias and Barrow."
"I already have. They're putting a second team on Darius."
"Good work. Gordon could be the key to wrapping this up."
Highsmith watched Page duck into the manager's office. A chubby man in a plaid shirt was standing behind the counter. Page showed the manager his i.d. and asked him a question. Highsmith saw the manager shake his head.
Page said something else. The manager disappeared into a back room and reappeared in a raincoat. He grabbed a key from a book on the wall.
Page followed the manager outside and gestured to Highsmith.
Highsmith slammed the car door and raced under the protection afforded by the second-floor landing.
Gordon's room was around the side of the motel on the ground floor. He arrived just as the manager knocked on the door and called out Gordon's name. There was no answer. A window faced into the parking lot. The green drapes were closed. There was a "Do Not Disturb" sign hanging from the doorknob.
"Miss. Gordon," the manager called again. They waited a minute and he shrugged. "She hasn't been in all day, as far as I know."