Читать книгу Courting Danger - Carol Stephenson - Страница 9

“Good morning, Edwin.”

“Good morning, Miss Katherine.” Edwin greeted me from the Palladium-styled doorway. Although he had been my great-aunt and uncle’s butler for only a few months, he was cut from the same mode as the long line of Rochelle butlers before him. Always there before you knew you needed him.

Of course the household staff was so large that there were many unseen eyes and ears to note the arrival of a car. Still, it was decidedly spooky how Edwin would appear at the door before the bell sounded.

“Madam requests your presence on the rear loggia.” In keeping with his training, Edwin’s only reaction to my less than stellar appearance was a micro-fractional disdainful lift of his brow. Otherwise, his face remained expressionless as he stepped back to let me inside. “She’s finishing her laps.”

But of course she was. If there was one constant in Hilary Rochelle Wilkes’s life, other than duty, it was her swimming.

“Thank you, Edwin.”

I moved across the spacious foyer, skirting the center dominated by the overhead Baccarat chandelier. Suspended from the thirty-two-foot domed ceiling, the dazzling gilt bronze fixture dripped with opulent crystals. Once as a kid, I had watched as a hurricane-force gust of wind caught the chandelier and tossed it up in the air like a tennis ball before letting it drop. A falling shard of glass had speared my upper arm. Even the top plastic surgeon called to the emergency room by my aunt and uncle hadn’t prevented the half-moon scar that was a permanent reminder.

As I reached the hallway leading to the ocean side, I cast one regretful glance toward the twin stairways that curved and twisted to the upper levels. A cautious person would’ve kept a change of clothes in her former bedroom. Only a rash person would burn all bridges by removing all her possessions in a desperate bid for identity.

I straightened the edge of my jacket and walked down the sweep of marbled corridor. For a moment I paused in the double French doors framed by amber silk brocade curtains to collect myself.

The view was primo Palm Beach: bands of green, gold and blue. Every rainy season the beach, like a worn wedding ring, would be tarnished, narrowing to a slip under the onslaught of storm-driven waves. Every year the inhabitants would lobby to have the beach restored. Mustn’t mess with property value. The rich and famous had seasonal homes on the beach, so that the beach must be perfect.

I used to believe the city council sent workers onto the beach every day before dawn to arrange shells so that the temporary residents would have the thrill of finding one. Once I crept down in a quest to catch the shell scatterers at work, but I only managed to step on a Portuguese man-of-war left by the tide. That ill-advised outing had catapulted me to a finishing school in Switzerland.

I crossed the patio and then went down the steps to the pool deck. With a smooth flip that barely rippled the water, my aunt made her turn at the deep end of the pool. In her youth Hilary’s prowess as a swimmer had earned her a spot on the Olympic team. Her bronze medallion held a place of honor over the fireplace in her sitting room. Although her years of competition were long behind her, she maintained a rigorous swimming regimen. I would match her stamina against today’s generation of women anytime.

“Are you going to stand there all day dreaming?” Wearing a peach tank swimming suit that showed off both her athletic form and golden tan to their best advantage, she stood in the shallow end. Ignoring the steps, she placed her hands on the side and pushed clear of the pool.

“No, Aunt Hilary.” I walked to the stack of towels and handed one to her. Although her actual date of birth was a secret as safeguarded as the gold in Fort Knox, Hilary had to be in her late sixties, early seventies, but she radiated the health of a forty-year-old. Her strict swimming regimen kept her thighs firm, her body lithe. Although her wet hair was sleeked back, I knew a superb hairstylist kept the trademark Rochelle hair a gleaming blond and arranged in a style contemporary in fashion but not inappropriately youthful.

After she dried off, I handed her a terry-cloth robe. Only then did she present her cheek for my air-kiss. She crossed to the wrought-iron-and-glass-top table and sat down. I followed, taking a chair that faced the sun and the inquisition I knew was coming.

“You look like something that dreadful cat of yours dragged in.”

“Gee, thanks, Aunt Hilary. You look fabulous as always.”

“Don’t get cheeky with me, young lady. Not after all I’ve done for you.” Hilary could look down her regal nose and make a person squirm at twenty paces. I resisted the fidget but issued the expected apology.

“Sorry.”

Without a word a maid appeared with a tray of frosted Waterford glasses of iced teas, and after serving us, just as silently disappeared. While Hilary sipped the sweetened brew with a twist of key lime, I studied her over the rim of my glass.

I had to hand it to her. No matter what the situation, my great-aunt always radiated strength, power and composure. Too bad Hilary was as cold as the Hubbard Glacier inside.

Whoa, watch the poor-little-rich-girl routine. After all, where would you have been without Hilary when Mom so lovingly dumped you on the doorstep?

Presented with a wailing baby, Hilary with her code of family duty had more than risen to the occasion. She had given me a home, such as it was. She had given all that she could.

It was not her fault that the burden of being a Rochelle had long ago burned out any softer emotions in her. And not my fault that I could never measure up to her level of perfection.

I placed the glass on the table without the slightest clink, as I had been taught. I folded my napkin, and along with it a child’s desperate need for love, and tucked it beside the glass.

“Aunt Hilary, you know I’ll always be grateful for what you did for me.”

The faint lines of displeasure framing her mouth eased. She nodded and leaned back in her chair.

“Your new office is doing well?”

I couldn’t resist a quick grin. “The Law Firm of Debt, Default and Miscarriage is doing great.”

Her fine brows knitted. “I beg your pardon?”

“An insider’s joke. When Carling, Nicole and I were in law school, we used to joke about opening a practice with that name.”

Remembering those days in the local bar frequented by the law students, and my friends’ discussions late into the night, satisfaction once more surged in me. By God, we had done it. After all the pain, setbacks and disappointments the three of us had experienced in our careers, we had joined forces to open our own firm. We would make it on our own, defying the all-old-boys’ network that still prevailed in this neck of the legal world.

“Oh, I see.” My aunt cleared her throat. “I would imagine you’ll be handling only civil matters given what happened to you at the U.S. Attorney’s office.”

Ah, here we go. She finally was getting to the reason she had summoned me. She was going to make a last-ditch effort to convince me to take a “title only” position with one of the family’s businesses. Hilary always manipulated a person until she had you trapped in a corner with no escape.

I kept my voice cool and level; she must not hear any uncertainty or vulnerability in my tone.

“No, we’re a criminal defense firm, which means I’ll be helping people charged with anything from misdemeanors to felonies.” That is, as soon as I could get my own clients rather than taking files over from Carling and Nicole. Their former positions with the Public Defender and State Attorney offices had given them a decided advantage in referrals. My past wasn’t so kind. It was not every day a CEO caught with his hand in the employee pension cookie jar—the kind I used to prosecute—walked off the street into a small law firm.

Maybe, just maybe, my victory this morning would help to rebuild my damaged reputation. Using my trust-fund monies for the start-up costs of the firm only made me a financial partner. For my self-respect I had to pull my own weight with client referrals.

“I have a…favor to ask of you.”

Although I maintained a relaxed pose, my Hilary antenna quivered. What was she up to? She demanded, ordered and, in short, expected people to snap to do her bidding. The word “ask” was not in her vocabulary. Certainly, her imperious summons this morning hadn’t suggested this new approach.

“A favor? From me?”

“On a professional basis.”

I couldn’t help myself, I gaped. “You want legal advice?”

Anger sparked in her crystalline blue eyes. “You still call yourself a lawyer, don’t you?”

Ah, her infamous disdain. With one efficient slash she could cut you off at the knees.

My own temper flickered. “Not call. Am.”

“Have you heard the latest about Grace Roberts’s death?”

Disbelief once more swelled inside me. Grace, the vivacious and efficient young woman who had maneuvered her way into becoming my aunt’s assistant, was dead. Violent death to people I knew was becoming a constant in my life, and that nasty realization had caused more than one sleepless night this past week.

“Nothing more than the brief coverage in the morning paper.”

“You’re aware she was killed in the old courthouse.” Hilary kept her eyes on my face. If she was waiting for a reaction she was going to be sorely disappointed.

“Yes.” Then, damned if my hand, on its own volition, didn’t stray toward the tube of tablets concealed in my pocket. My aunt’s eagle-sharp gaze tracked my movement. I brought my hand forward, empty.

“They’ve arrested Lloyd Silber for her murder.”

“What?” My mouth dropped open. Lloyd, director of the courthouse restoration project, was about as debonair and dedicated as they come.

“Close your mouth, Katherine. You could catch every mosquito along the beach the way you’re gaping.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I swallowed. “Why do the police think Lloyd killed Grace?”

Hilary shrugged. “The usual. A young, pretty volunteer. A straying man who wasn’t about to divorce his wife.”

“Lloyd and Grace were an item?”

“That’s the rumor.”

No way. Grace was engaged to a drop-dead gorgeous executive of a high-tech company. More than once she had rubbed my nose in the fact after my relationship with my former boss had crashed and burned. Grace had had visions of a many-carat diamond ring and a waterfront mansion dancing in her head. She wouldn’t have wasted one flutter of her eyelashes on an older man like Lloyd who had lost everything when the limited-partnership tax laws had changed.

“I can see your mind is already at work, springing to Lloyd’s defense.”

“It’s just not possible—”

Hilary held up her hand. “This is exactly why I wanted to see you. For once in your life, I want you to leave well enough alone and say no.”

“You’ve lost me.”

“Meredith Silber, poor fool, believes her husband is innocent. She called me this morning to ask if I thought you would represent him.”

My breath hitched and excitement skittered along my nerves. The Silbers wanted me?

“I want you to refuse.”

My brief spike of adrenaline flattened. “Why? I know you’ve never wanted me to become an attorney but—”

“But would you listen to reason? Of course not. You talked grand plans about the pursuit of justice. Where has this insane need gotten you? Once more in disgrace. Do you enjoy dragging the Rochelle name in the mud?”

Indignation frosted my voice. “I had nothing to do with that mess at the U.S. Attorney’s office and you know it. Harold Lowell was accepting campaign contributions under the table from his staff and other influential people. What was I supposed to do? Just sit there and let him get away with it?”

“No, for once your moral fanaticism exonerated you. But your taste in men remains abominable.”

She had me there. I attracted every loser in the universe.

My face must have reflected some of my chagrin, for Hilary nodded with satisfaction. “Exactly. If you had done what I had advised and gone into the family business, you would’ve met some nice executive and be married by now. But no, you never would listen to me.”

I pinched my nose. “This is getting us nowhere.”

“So typical of you, Katherine. Changing the topic when I’m trying to talk reason.”

“I’ve lost track of what you’re trying to get me to do.”

“Not represent Lloyd, dear.”

“Why not? He needs a good attorney who’ll believe in his innocence.”

“What he needs is a great criminal attorney, and quite frankly, that’s not you, Katherine. What did you do at the U.S. Attorney’s? Prosecute a few executives who stole from their companies? Give them a slap on the wrist with a fine and send them to one of those white-collar prisons for a few years?”

Hilary leaned forward. “The government plans to seek the death penalty against Lloyd. This is his life at stake.”

She was right. I had dealt with only high-brow criminals in a world where the sole stake was money. First-degree murder was a different matter.

“Dear, Lloyd is going to need an attorney who can get him a good deal and you’re not up to it. How many of your so-called court victories can be attributed to the fact that you were dating the boss? That he might have given you easy cases? Even your uncle and godfather noticed that Harold sat as second chair on your trials more than was normal.”

Resentment burned in my stomach. It looked like the rumors had literally hit home. Only Carling and Nicole believed in me and my capabilities. Granted, I might not be experienced enough to try a murder case, but I certainly could plea-bargain with the best of them.

“Glad to know you think so highly of my abilities. Just for the record, I never rode on Harold’s coattails.”

“Be reasonable. You can help best by steering Lloyd’s wife toward the names of several good attorneys. A few of us on the restoration board are quietly raising money to help out. Of course, we can’t do so openly because of Grace.”

“Of course.” Mustn’t take a stand that the press could pounce on. I rose. “I have to be going.”

Unease clouded her eyes. “Katherine, you won’t do anything foolish?”

I crossed the terrace to the doors. “Now why would I start being anything but a disappointment to you?”

“Katherine!”

I paused.

“Why do you always fight me? I only want what’s best for you.”

“If that’s the case—” I turned halfway “—then why don’t you ever listen to what I want?”

“Oh, I’ve listened.” My aunt’s lips thinned. “But you never seem to know what’s best for you. At times you are utterly unreasonable just like…” Her voice trailed off.

I stilled. “Like my mother?”

“No, like my brother. Always so righteous. Always so wrapped up in such an abstract concept of what justice is that you never can recognize the realities of life. Life isn’t black-and-white, Katherine, it’s filled with gray.”

“That’s a lesson you’ve taught me well.”

All too well. The defining moment had been when I was fifteen and home for summer-school break. My aunt had accused a servant of breaking a Dresden figurine, even though Uncle Colin had been the culprit because he’d had one too many. All my arguments and pleas had fallen on my aunt’s deaf ears. When it came to her husband, Colin could do no wrong. He denied the incident and that was enough for her. Not only had the servant Carmelina been fired, she had been deported back to Colombia.

Six months later Carmelina and her family had been at the wrong place when a gunfight had broken out between a drug cartel and the police. Carmelina had died instantly, the earnest eighteen-year-old girl who had only craved and worked for a better life for her family. When I had come across another Colombian servant, distraught and crying in the kitchen over a letter from home with the news, I had gone to Hilary. Her only comment had been, “Death happens,” and that I should get use to it.

As if I wasn’t already all too familiar with death and the everlasting grip of its consequences. Exhibit One, my grandparents. Exhibit Two, my mother.

It had been at the moment I stared at her in disbelief over her callousness that my desire to be a lawyer who fought for others had been born.

Hilary rolled up a cuff of her robe. “I’ve tried my best to steer you from going down the same reckless path Jonathan traveled.”

To the point of suffocation. “If you had only answered my questions about my grandparents—”

Hilary’s chair scraped as she rose. “And tell you what? That Jonathan and Marguerite vanished one night? That the ensuing investigation uncovered his dirty secret—that he took bribes as a judge? That the police closed the case after concluding my brother and his wife had probably been murdered and their bodies dumped in the ocean? I see no need to display the family’s soiled linen.”

Only the barest flush across Hilary’s cheeks betrayed her anger. “As much as you love putting them on a pedestal, Jonathan and his treasured Marguerite weren’t perfect. She wanted too much and he was too weak. If you don’t learn to control your rash ways, you’ll share the same miserable fate as my brother.”

Even as I stared at her, the abyss between us widened, a lifetime of missed opportunities. As I stood on that knife-thin edge of no turning back, in a protective reaction I wrapped my fingers around the locket at my neck. Luckily it hadn’t been damaged in the courtroom scuffle.

Oddly, the piece of jewelry containing my grandparents’ pictures had been my guiding light since I had found it in my mother’s jewelry case in her former room.

No matter what Hilary and the rest of the world said about my grandparents, I had never believed it. True, as a lonely child surrounded by self-absorbed adults, I had fantasized that they were the parents I never had. As a young girl I could only see the warmth of their smiles the camera had captured. As an adult I recognized the core-deep integrity in their expressions that the camera had captured. Maybe I didn’t know who I was, but I knew in this moment the person I didn’t want to be.

“I’m sorry that you don’t understand me, Aunt Hilary, but I have to lead my own life and make my own mistakes.”

“I give up trying to reason with you.” She gave a slight dismissive movement with her right hand and turned away to walk toward the entrance to her suite of rooms. “Try not to drag the family name through another escapade.” She disappeared into the house.

I tucked the locket under my blouse. Hilary was right on one point. While I couldn’t do anything about the old family scandal, I could undo the damage I had done to the Rochelle name by getting my own act together. Time to get started.

As I hurried down the hallway, a door opened and a man emerged. “Katherine, hold on a minute.”

So much for making a clean escape. I halted and plastered on a smile. “Hi, Uncle Colin.” I kissed his ruddy cheek and then spotted another man inside my uncle’s den.

“Paul, what a surprise! I thought you were in D.C. before the Judicial Committee.”

The tall man stepped forward to the doorway and pressed a cool kiss to my forehead. “The approval process is on hold while the senators go home to make sure their constituents know they exist.”

I chuckled. My godfather, Paul Schofield, an U.S. appellate judge, had received the nod from the President to be the next U.S. Supreme Court Justice, but the approval process was taking forever.

“How much longer, do you think?”

His shrug was casual but I could see the tension in his lean, tanned face.

“Who knows? Perhaps when they’ve determined I was bottle-fed and wore cloth diapers.”

“I can’t believe how invasive this inquiry must be for you.”

However, if ever a man had a clean slate for prying eyes, it would be my godfather: a state prosecutor who became an extremely successful personal-injury attorney, married well like my uncle, a U.S. District judge and now on the appellate bench. As cogent and articulate as his written opinions were, he would be a tremendous Supreme Court Justice, perhaps going down in history as famous as Justice Learned Hand.

“Katherine, there’s something we would like to discuss with you. Could you step inside for a moment?

This sounded like trouble and I had already had my fair share in the span of two hours. I dragged in a deep breath before moving into the den. I had always hated this room and the heads of dead animals staring at me from the walls. I understood Colin’s need to escape from his rarefied world married to a Rochelle, but couldn’t he hunt with a camera rather than a gun?

“What’s up?” I folded my arms and studied the two men as they glanced at each other.

What a contrasting pair. My great-uncle’s stocky build had served him well as a college football player on a scholarship, but age had thickened his middle and transformed his lantern jaw into being jowly. Still, my uncle remained a good-looking man. His thick tawny-gold hair had silvered without thinning, lending him a genteel look. Blessed with a generous mouth, an easy disposition and twinkling hazel eyes, he had cut quite a charming swath in social and political circles until he had landed my great-aunt as his wife. Only his splotchy complexion betrayed his recurrent escape from being henpecked via one too many bourbons.

On the other hand, time had weathered Paul’s craggy features into handsomeness. Underneath heavy brows, his deep-set gray eyes glinted with intelligence. White frosted his ebony hair at the temples. Italian-tailored wool suits transformed his rawboned frame into old-world elegance.

Still, the men had forged a bond. One a public defender, the other a prosecutor, they had met at opposite sides of the bench and litigated their way up to fame and fortune. Only Colin’s legal career had stalled after a stint as Florida’s Attorney General.

Colin cleared his throat. “Katherine, what Paul hasn’t mentioned is that the appellate investigation is now focusing on his family and immediate acquaintances.”

“That’s because Paul is too good to be true.”

“Exactly.” Colin nodded, his expression grave. “We need a man like Paul on the highest court bench.”

“Absolutely.”

“That’s why I have to add a special plea to Hilary’s request that you not represent Lloyd Silber.”

Betrayal sliced deep, the hurt curdling in my heart. Of all the people in my life I thought would understand the need to find justice for the wrongly accused, it should have been Uncle Colin.

He had been my father figure, the man I had emulated. His tales about cases he had heard on the bench had been my inspiration to go to law school.

“Don’t look so stricken, dear.” Colin awkwardly patted me on my shoulder. “I know it’s been unfair what you have gone through, that you’re a good girl.”

I cleared my throat. “Woman, Uncle Colin. I’m a woman now.”

He turned even a deeper shade of red. “Of course you are, dear. But you’re just getting back on your feet, building a practice. Taking on what will be a news-headliner case would do more harm than good right now.”

My lips were stiff. “And be an embarrassment for Paul.”

Paul shook his head. “Don’t ascribe sentiments to me. I’m very proud of how you’ve pulled yourself together. But you need to work up to handling the big stuff. Even Colin and I paid our dues before trying murder cases. In the hands of an inexperienced attorney, more harm than good may be done. A man’s life is at stake.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Katherine! Don’t take that tone with Paul. If you want to blame anyone, blame me. I was the one who thought we should discuss the matter with you.”

But behind Colin I felt the presence of my aunt, manipulating the strings, to give me a double whammy. I turned and walked to the door.

“Where are you going?” Concern edged Colin’s voice. I knew he loved me, but when it came to choosing between me or Hilary and Paul, I knew the answer wouldn’t be me.

“Oh, I thought I’d hang out at the county jail and maybe watch some real attorneys at work during arraignment hearings since, according to you, I don’t qualify as one.”

I shrugged. “And while I’m there, I just might arrange to meet with Lloyd Silber.” Without waiting for Colin’s reply, I went down the hallway.

I couldn’t leave fast enough. The house had never been my home.

The afternoon passed in a blur. I first contacted and met with Meredith Silber at the couple’s town house in North Palm Beach. A petite, elegant woman, Meredith could speak with me in private for only a brief period of time. Family and friends filled the rooms and kept interrupting any attempt at conversation. Thank God, I was able to sit with my knees together during the crucial interview. Otherwise, Meredith would’ve noticed that they were quaking from nerves.

However, I held myself together and came away with her quiet plea to at least meet with her husband. After checking in with my office and telling my partners about the possible case, I drove to the jail and took a seat in one of the facility’s conference rooms. As I waited at the utilitarian table for the guards to bring Lloyd in, I wrinkled my nose.

The meeting room smelled the same as ever. No matter how strong the cleanser used, it could never erase the pungent smell of sweat, anger and fear.

Then a guard opened the door and let Lloyd in. I sat back, startled by the change in his appearance. In the course of two weeks, when I last saw him at a social function, the director had aged considerably. His brown eyes were tired with deep grainy circles of black under them. A heavy five-o’clock shadow stood out against the pallor of his skin. However, his background as a naval officer left its stamp in the way he sat ramrod straight in his chair.

Life had dealt him a number of hard knocks, but Lloyd always brimmed with energy. Now he sat almost lifeless, as if the very vitality had been sapped from his veins. His face was devoid of any expression. Only if a person looked carefully would they spot the resentment burning bright in his eyes.

“Thanks for seeing me, Katherine.” His voice was rough. “Not many of my friends want that pleasure at the moment.”

“They’ll call once we get you out of here.”

“Am I getting out?”

“You’ll have a first appearance hearing tomorrow morning. With your clean record, family and community ties, I anticipate the judge will allow bail. It may be high because of the murder charge.”

Embarrassment flickered across Lloyd’s face before the shuttered expression resumed. “At the moment I don’t happen to have any spare change lying around.”

Oh yes. His wife, Meredith, had been quite clear about their financial situation. In the past I had wondered why a man like Lloyd would take on a low-paying job such as the restoration project, but now I knew. At his age without money, he had been hoping to make prestigious contacts.

“You do have friends, Lloyd. A few are raising the collateral for the bail.”

He looked down at his hands clasped on top of the table. “Another debt to repay.”

“It’s either that or stay in jail.”

His lips twitched. “Always the pragmatist, Katherine.”

I cleared my throat. “Speaking of being pragmatic, I have to advise you that I’ve never represented a client charged with murder. However, I’m quite an experienced negotiator. I reviewed the charges before meeting with you, and I’m confident that I can get you a good deal.”

Without warning, he leaned across the table and snagged my wrist.

My mouth dried. We were in a conference room without windows. If the on-duty officer wasn’t paying attention to the security cameras, Lloyd could break my right wrist and worse before help could arrive.

With my left hand I carefully palmed my pen, prepared to jab him if need be.

“I didn’t kill Grace.” His blunt nails cut into my tender flesh. “I wasn’t having an affair with her. I love Meredith too much to betray her like that. You must believe me.”

I sensed the anger through his grip, I heard the conviction in his voice, and when I gazed into his haunted eyes, I recognized the truth. Hadn’t I looked into a mirror countless times during the U.S. Attorney corruption investigation and seen that same lost expression in my own eyes?

Lloyd hadn’t killed Grace Roberts.

I released the pen and laid my hand on top of his. “I believe you.”

“Thank you.” He swallowed, blinking back tears. He released me and slowly leaned back into his chair.

“Now what?”

Under the cover of the table, I massaged sensation back into my right hand before I picked up my pen. “Now tell me everything you know about Grace, about the restoration project and any enemies you may have made.”

Lloyd groaned and scrubbed his face. “How many hours do you have?”

I flipped to a fresh page on my paper pad. “As many as it takes.”