PUZZLE OF SUSPECTS

The law firm of Burgess and Logan, located in a luxury Century City high-rise of West LA, catered to clients of great wealth and influence in the entertainment world. The man in the dark blue suit entered the lobby, which subtly portrayed wealth with its wood walls and antique Persian silk rugs with colors to match the dark burgundy leather sofas and patterned Louis XV chairs. Only the most prestigious of magazines and the Wall Street Journal lined each tabletop. Brian Garland arrived at the Los Angeles International Airport the night before, armed with information about Clinton Logan. When his sister, Nancy, went missing ten years earlier, Logan’s name was not on the radar; but thanks to his niece Amy, new evidence had revealed itself, and the name became a person of interest for Brian to investigate. He approached the pretty blonde receptionist. “Would it be possible to see Mr. Logan sometime this morning without an appointment?” He handed her his business card. “Take a seat, Mr. Garland, and I’ll contact his assistant.” “Thanks.” And he turned and sat down on the nearest chair and picked up the journal. Within a few minutes, the receptionist said Mr. Logan’s assistant would be with him shortly. He sat wondering how he would talk about his missing sister without sounding accusatory. “Mr. Logan will see you now, Mr. Garland.” The assistant, with long dark hair, smiled and added, “Follow me, please.” He followed the very pretty slim assistant to the office located at the southeast corner, off a hallway with the “ego” wall featuring celebrity and power, and then into the large office, lined from floor to ceiling with windows overlooking Beverley Hills to the northwest. Clinton Logan sat reading papers and slowly glanced up to view the man who now sat in one of the chairs in front of him. “Your business card reads you are an attorney out of Houston, Texas. How might I be of service?” Brian looked closely at the man before him; could his sister have had an affair with him? he thought. He certainly maintained his youthful appearance—full head of light brown hair, piercing blue eyes, and although seated, Brian could tell he was a tall man with a lean exercised body. “I’m sorry to ask to see you without an appointment. I’ll not take much of your time. I only need to ask you a question about my sister, who has been missing for the past ten years. I just recently learned she had an acquaintance with a name similar to yours, and I hoped it might be you and you could help me with so many questions our parents and I have tried to get answers for.” “I’d be happy to help you if I can. What’s your sister’s name?” “Nancy Garland. I understand she met you while you were still in law school. She worked as an assistant to the dean at Texas.” “I don’t recall the name.” “She’s quite beautiful with long dark hair. Anyway, that is how she looked the last time we saw her.” Brian reached in his suit jacket pocket and handed a picture of Nancy to the lawyer. Every time Brian looked at this picture of his sister, the sadness of her disappearance dwelled up. When Brian was five years old, Nancy would have been eleven. She loved to mother him, taught him school lessons, did pretend interviews, and seemed to enjoy being with him more than with her older sister, Michelle. As they got older and moved from Houston to West LA, she spent more time with her friends, but still would invite him to come along every so often. After she left for college, he really missed her, even though by then he spent all his extra time surfing with his buddies. Brian continued, “It isn’t like her to just disappear. She had a close relationship with her family and was working as secretary to the dean to save money so she could attend law school in the fall.” “She’s a beautiful girl, but I don’t recall seeing her. You have had no information about her for ten years?” “It’ll be ten years this September. We’ve exhausted every lead, and until we heard she had a relationship with one of the law students, we hadn’t uncovered anything that helped us.” “And this law student’s name was the same as mine?” “My niece recently became a student of law at the University of Texas, and somehow she heard the girl who had gone missing in Austin in 2002 had been seeing a third year law student with a name similar to yours. I checked this fact with the local police, but they said they had thoroughly investigated her acquaintances, and everyone was cleared.” “So this is not about a police investigation?” “No, not at all. That is why I apologize for bothering you. I’m using my personal time to seek answers. My parents have been in despair over her disappearance. Her employment records show she did not return to work after the Labor Day weekend. Without any leads, her case went cold.” “You mean at the time of her disappearance the investigation did not reveal this student’s name? That seems odd.” “I thought so too, but somehow the name didn’t come up until my niece got word of it this year. I did check and know you were in attendance that year. So you don’t remember her?” “I dated several girls during my student days, but I’d surely remember a pretty girl who worked for the dean. Actually, I became engaged my third year, and we married that summer and have been together ever since. No, I don’t know why my name came up. Perhaps there was another student with a similar name? I’m sorry. I wish I could help you.” Brian stood up, gave thanks for being seen with such short notice, and left the office. As he took the elevator to the ground floor garage, he thought Clinton Logan sounded convincing. He knew he would have to go about his investigation carefully; there was something in those cold blue eyes that made him uneasy.