Page 40 of Power of the Mind
His white dress shirt, pulled taut over an old-age spread, was tucked into gray pleated trousers. The wide tie, much like Diem’s suit, was decades out of style. A Rolex watch and Montblanc fountain pen, nestled in its holder, were testimony to Hilty’s higher income. His wrinkled jowls were covered with a decent five o’clock shadow, glinting silver in the low room light.
Expressive, wildly untamed brows knitted together as Hilty peered up at our entrance, gaze skipping from Diem to me and back as though deducing whether or not he knew us. If he’d ever been a pot-smoking hippy activist, it didn’t show.
Amber’s brother claimed his sister had spoken of incense and the rich scent of patchouli, but I smelled nothing but stale air with hints of body odor.
“Gentlemen.” Hilty’s voice was nasally and higher pitched than I expected. “How can I help you?”
“William Hilty?” I asked as Diem closed the door.
“Bill.” The doctor remained on alert, body stiff with tension. “Can I ask what this is regarding?”
“Mind if we sit?” I smiled my most winning smile.
Hilty hesitated before motioning to a brown leather sofa under a covered window on one side of the room. I assumed it was where the good doctor performed his magic. I sat, glancing around, but Diem refused and remained by the door with his arms crossed like the bouncer I’d compared him to back at the office. You could take a man out of his street clothes, but the shadowy image of a hostile nonconformer remained. I’d tried. At least the intimidation was a tad more sophisticated in a suit.
Eyeing Diem, Dr. Hilty moved to a cushioned chair—also brown leather—in the sitting area and balanced his ass on its edge as though too nervous to get comfortable. “Are you cops?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Of a sort.”
“What does that mean?”
“We’re investigators.”
Hilty’s attention shifted between us. “And what are you… investigating?”
“Your ex-wife.”
Hilty flinched and frowned. “You’re investigating Row?”
“That’s right. I believe she’s going by Rowena Fitspatrick.”
“I don’t understand.” William Hilty didn’t relax, but he turned introspective like he was trying to sort out the bigger picture but couldn’t make the pieces fit.
“When’s the last time you talked to her?” I asked.
Hilty shook his head. “You haven’t properly identified yourself or shown me any ID. I don’t have to answer your questions. Besides, Rowena and I have nothing to do with one anotheranymore. If you think you can waltz in here and threaten me by suggesting—”
“We know about the murder charges in eighty-six.” A low growl resonated with Diem’s tone. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to bury them. How many of your clients know?”
Hilty’s nostrils flared. “Those charges were dropped. The judge threw out the case as fast as the brain-dead cops arrested us. It was nonsense and has no bearing on me or my practice.”
“And the fine?”
“A minor infraction. A youthful mistake. It’s since been expunged from my record. I’m a legally practicing physician. You have no right to come here, make accusations, and threaten me. It’s in the past. It has no bearing on my career or who I am now.”
“So you won’t mind if we take it to the press?” I asked.
Dr. Hilty had the same teeth-grinding habit as Diem. “What do you want? Why are you here?”
“I told you. We’re investigating your ex-wife. We’d like you to answer a few questions, then we’ll get out of your hair.” I flicked my gaze to the top of Hilty’s balding head. Why did I keep doing that? “Er… your office.”
“No. You show me some ID, or I’ll call the cops. If you’re investigators, prove it.”
Diem tossed the doctor his PI credentials. I needed to get me one of those. Hilty scanned it thoroughly, as though not trusting it was real, before handing it back. “And you?”
“I’m a hired expert. I don’t work for the company. I consult on serious cases. I’m undercover.” Diem made a noise in his throat. Before either man could refute my claim, I pressed on. “When did you last speak to your ex-wife, Dr. Hilty?”
Hilty seemed to debate before submitting. “I couldn’t honestly tell you. Has she done something wrong?”