Free The Rooster Bar by John Grisham Page A

like the fact that Gordy was here in the big city without her.”
    Another long pause as they sipped coffee. Mark broke the silence with “Oh yeah, we need to look around for a suicide note. The detective said so.”
    “That should be fun,” Todd said. They walked across the hall, entered Gordy’s apartment, and turned on the lights. Nothing had changed since they left in a panic. A note would be in the bedroom and they didn’t find one.
    “This place is filthy,” Mark said, looking around. The sheets were in a wad with half the mattress exposed. Clothes were piled on the floor. Two empty liquor bottles were on the dresser.
    “I’ll clean it when you guys are gone,” Zola said. “I’m sure the family will want to see his apartment.” They stepped back into the den and stared at Gordy’s conspiracy wall. “Any ideas?” Todd asked.
    Mark said, “Let’s take this mess down and save it. The family will have no use for it.” Zola filled a laundry basket with dirty sheets, towels, and clothing, and took it to the laundry room in the basement while Mark and Todd carefully removed the poster boards and sheets of paper from the wall. Rackley’s face and those of his confederates were placed in a neat stack to be hauled away. Next to Gordy’s computer, Mark saw two thumb drives and he instinctively put them in his pocket without a word.
    At six, he and Todd left the building and headed to Pentagon City. With no traffic, they arrived at the Marriott in twenty minutes and went to the café for biscuits and coffee. As they ate they tried to steel themselves for the meeting. “She’ll probably say some horrible things,” Todd said.
    “She’s already said them.”
    “We are not going to be trashed, Mark.”
    “We have to be patient, Todd, and sympathetic. Poor girl just lost a fiancé she adored.”
    “Well, he didn’t adore her, not anymore.”
    “She’ll never know that. Or will she?”
    “Who knows? According to Zola, he and Brenda fought a lot before Christmas. Who knows what he said? He might have called off the wedding.”
    “He would have told us. We’re his best friends, Todd, at least here in D.C. I’ll bet money the wedding was still on and Brenda was dreaming of her big day. Now her childhood sweetheart is dead.”
    “What should we have done different?” Todd asked.
    “I don’t know, but I’m not sure I would’ve called Brenda. Gordy would’ve freaked out on us and the situation would have gotten worse.”
    “It got worse.”
    “It did. We’d better go.”
    They rode the elevator to the third floor and knocked on a door. Dr. Karvey was waiting and opened it quickly. In a soft voice he introduced himself; firm handshake, tight smile, which under the circumstances struck them as remarkable. He waved them into the room, the sitting area of a suite. He offered coffee and they declined. There was no sign of Brenda or anyone else.
    Gordy had talked about his future father-in-law several times, and they knew the Karvey family was wealthy from land and a bank. Dr. Karvey was a cardiologist and highly respected in Martinsburg. He was about fifty, with lots of graying hair and a firm chin. He wore a jacket with no tie and his clothes were obviously expensive. Gordy, who habitually tossed cheap shots at everyone, had never uttered a negative word about the man.
    They sat around a small table and spoke in low voices. Brenda was in the bedroom with her mother. Dr. Karvey had given her a sedative and she was resting. The police had just left after briefing the family. Gordy’s parents were driving over and would be in the city within the hour.
    Dr. Karvey said, “Please tell me what you know.”
    Mark nodded at Todd, who swallowed hard and began the recap of the past few days. A law school friend who lived in the same building became concerned about Gordy’s behavior and went to the bar where Todd worked, looking for help. They found Gordy in his apartment, where he had been holed up for a