Best Laid Plans by Allison Brennan

Worthington’s suite of offices in the corner of the top floor. Like the rest of the business, the offices were spacious and minimalist, but there was a little more personality here—a large old map of Texas framed on one wall, pictures of Harper with staff and friends, business recognition plaques, and certificates of appreciation. HWI had sponsored a Little League baseball team and a girls’ softball team for the past fifteen years and all the team pictures were framed on one wall.
    “Let’s go to my office,” she said. Her office was large and functional with multiple workstations and doors on either side, one labeled Harper Worthington, CEO . Instead of looking out to the freeway like the security office, she had a view of a man-made lake and a small park. She sat down at her desk and turned on her computer.
    Debbie had made an attempt to put herself together—tailored gray business suit, crisp white shirt, and her black hair pulled tightly back into a bun. But she wore no makeup and her eyes were red and swollen, though dry. Lucy noted that she wore two different-colored pumps, one black and one navy. The only jewelry she wore was a gold wedding band and a small diamond ring.
    “Thank you for coming in so quickly,” Barry said. He glanced at her wall and said, “You were in the Air Force?”
    “Yes, sir. Six years.”
    “And Texas A&M?”
    “Yes—on the GI Bill. I graduated with honors in finance and business administration. Mr. Worthington recruited me right out of college, and I’ve been with him for five years.”
    She typed on her computer.
    “How far back do you want his schedule?”
    Barry didn’t answer right away. He sat down, so Lucy took the other chair. “You tell me, Ms. Alexander. Did you know Mr. Worthington had a round-trip ticket to San Antonio from Dallas last night?”
    “No, sir,” she said.
    “Is that odd?”
    “Yes. I handle all his travel arrangements. But it’s also odd because Mr. Worthington is frugal. He is willing to spend money, but he doesn’t waste it. He’s efficient.”
    “Has he done anything like this before?”
    “No,” she said, then glanced away, her brows furrowed.
    “Do you remember something?”
    “It’s personal.”
    “It’s important that we know everything that relates to Mr. Worthington’s life, particularly during the last few weeks,” Barry said. “There may be extenuating circumstances. But it’s clear from our investigation, even though we’re just getting started, that his behavior last night was out of character.”
    “Behavior?”
    When Barry didn’t explain, Debbie said, “Three weeks ago, he canceled a lunch with one of his top clients. He never canceled on anyone, unless it was an emergency—and when I say emergency, I mean serious, like when Jolene’s appendix ruptured last year. But three weeks ago, he left work early and said he wasn’t feeling well.” She stopped abruptly, and seemed conflicted about whether to speak.
    “Anything you tell us is important to determine his state of mind last night,” Lucy said. “Especially if it’s out of character.”
    “It’s hearsay.” Debbie glanced from Lucy to Barry. “My husband saw Harper entering a dive bar on North Zarzamora. A place you go when you don’t want anyone to see you. Donny is a therapist who works with disabled veterans. It was a chance sighting—Donny was working with a vet who is severely scarred and didn’t want to leave his apartment.”
    “Did you ask Mr. Worthington about it?”
    “No, of course not—he’s entitled to his privacy. It was just out of character. And then, after that, he started working later and on weekends. He often worked late, but rarely worked weekends.”
    “Print out his schedule for the last four weeks,” Barry said, “and we’ll also need his phone records, personal and business.”
    “Of course. Anything that will help.”
    Lucy asked, “How was the Worthingtons’ marriage?”
    Barry shot her a glance, but she