Читать книгу Courthouse Steps - Ginger Chambers - Страница 10

THE COTTAGE beside the wide lake nestled comfortably in the trees. Its look was ageless. It might have stood there for two years or two hundred. Amanda waited at the front door for Professor Williams to answer her knock. She shifted restlessly from foot to foot.

When at last the door swung open, a slightly older version of her favorite and most valued instructor greeted her. Like the man who had been with Ethan Trask, he, too, was her par in height. Only instead of being slender, Professor Williams was more than adequately insulated against any sudden disruption in the world’s food supply. His cheeks were round, his midsection rotund, and he had just enough unruly white hair left on top of his head to remind Amanda of an elf. His eyes contradicted the image. Instead of being benign and merry, they were probing and sharp. After his first sweeping glance, Amanda knew the Professor had guessed the reason for her visit.

“You’re wasting your time,” he said. Still, he motioned her indoors. “The only sport I’m interested in right now is fishing—bass, walleye, bluegill.”

The interior of the cabin was just as comfortable as the exterior. Neatly kept, with an overstuffed couch and chairs, it was perfect for a retired bachelor.

Amanda decided not to equivocate. “You’re the only person I can ask, Professor.”

“Why’s that?” he shot back. “Are you trying to tell me I’m the only person with a half a brain left in this state?”

“No.”

“Good, because I wouldn’t believe you.” His eyes narrowed. “You always did tell the truth, even when it wasn’t in your best interests.”

“Isn’t truth what the law is all about?” Amanda countered. “I seem to remember you had a special lecture you liked to give—”

“I did,” he interrupted her. “But I gave it so many times I don’t care to hear it again.” Finally he smiled. “It’s good to see you, Amanda Baron. Even under these trying circumstances. You’re a feast for the eye as well as the spirit.”

Amanda inclined her head, managing a small smile.

The professor looked her over more carefully. “I’ve kept up with what’s been happening via the newspapers. I read about your grandfather’s arrest and his indictment. Events of that sort are good fodder, especially when they happen in a nearby town. How is your family holding up?”

“Not very well, I’m afraid. They’re all trying to act as if everything will turn out all right, but they’re scared silly that it won’t.”

“And you?”

“Me most of all.”

The professor showed her to the couch and invited her to sit down while he went to make coffee. Soon he was back with two large mugs. “Do you take cream or sugar?” he asked.

“No, I like it straight.” She accepted a cup and took a small sip of the steaming liquid. It did little to warm her.

Professor Williams sat back, his cup untouched. “So, what is it you’re afraid of?” he asked.

“What am I not afraid of is a better question! I don’t know what I’m doing, Professor! I’ve never handled a criminal case before...at least, nothing more serious than some crazy local kid assaulting someone, or somebody else robbing a store. This is murder we’re talking about here! Life imprisonment. And my grandfather is the person charged! Everyone believes I can handle it—my mother, my brother, my sister...my grandfather. They all think that just because I have a law degree, I should be able to waltz into court and get Granddad off. I’ve tried to explain that it’s not that easy, but they won’t listen.” She set down her cup, afraid to hold it any longer in case it spilled.

“I believe you can do it,” the professor said quietly. “You have a very quick mind, Amanda.”

“But if I lose, if I do something wrong...if I overlook something, if I pick the wrong jurors...Ethan Trask will—”

“You have a very tough adversary.”

“The battle won’t be fair!”

“Which is why you came to me.”

Amanda sat forward, her chestnut hair lightly brushing her shoulders. “I thought possibly if you would be my cocounsel...”

He was already shaking his head. “It’s been three years since I left teaching and ten since I set foot in a courtroom. When I retired, I took leave of all that.”

“It’s not something a person forgets,” she maintained. “Not someone as capable as you. I’ve read your memoirs. I’ve read all the cases.”

“I didn’t say I’ve forgotten anything,” he corrected her sharply. “I said I took leave of that life. I swore to myself that I would never again come before the bench in any capacity as a lawyer, and I meant it. I saw too many doddering old men in my day, men who barely knew how to tie their shoelaces any longer, still trying to plead a case...and some of those men were behind the bench, too! No, I’m much too old and much too tired to inflict myself on the judicial system.”

Amanda immediately remembered the rumors of his ill health. “I heard that you weren’t feeling well. But you look so...healthy.” His color was good, his eyes bright.

He laughed shortly. “That’s something I put around to keep from being bothered. Too many people read that damned book last year and wanted advice. They came at all hours of the day and night.”

Amanda looked down. That was exactly what she was doing.

“I didn’t mean you,” he said, correctly interpreting her sudden stillness. “I’m talking about strangers, people I don’t even know.”

Amanda’s features were tight. She should never have come here. Professor Williams was a wonderful teacher, but they had never become personal friends. Too many years and too much experience separated them. Only desperation had brought her to this point. She stood. “I’m sorry to have taken up so much of your time. You warned me in the beginning. I should have listened.” She smiled, and the sweetness of her smile had no artifice. “I’m glad that you’re not ill,” she added.

She turned to leave, but a hand stopped her. Professor Williams’s expression was whimsical. “You have something very special, Amanda. A quality many other lawyers only try to achieve. Sincerity just shines out of you, my dear. Stick with that, and you won’t have a thing to worry about.”

The compliment was nice and Amanda appreciated it, but she knew that sincerity alone wasn’t going to win her grandfather’s case. Only hard work would do that. Hard work and, as the situation now stood, a great deal of luck. “Thank you,” she said.

She started for the door again, opened it and was about to go outside when Professor Williams asked, “Would you be willing to accept me in the role of adviser? I won’t step into the well with you, I won’t talk to the judge or wrangle with Ethan Trask, but I will give you the benefit of what little knowledge I’ve managed to glean over the years. Would that be a satisfactory compromise?”

For the first time since her grandfather’s indictment, Amanda felt a spurt of optimism. She turned back to the professor, joy spreading in her smile. “That would be wonderful!” she said, her throat tight.

His round face softened. “Why is it old men are so often willing to make fools of themselves when asked to by attractive young women?”

“I would never call you old, and I would never dare to call you a fool. Thank you, Professor.”

“My name is Peter. If we’re going to work together, it should be as equals.”

Amanda tried the name. “Peter,” she repeated.

He nodded. “Now, you must set me straight on this case. As you know probably only too well by now, the media rarely manage to get the story right.”

“Gladly,” Amanda agreed.

She stepped back into the cozy room, curled up on the couch and, with cup in hand, gave her new friend an accounting of all she knew about her grandfather and the woman he was accused of murdering forty-two years before—his wife and her grandmother, Margaret Lindstrom Ingalls.

* * *

ETHAN TRASK SURVEYED the set of offices that would be his for the upcoming weeks and decided that they were beginning to shape up. Everyone involved with helping him to settle in had done their jobs efficiently and well. Desks were positioned, file cabinets provided, worktables set up. Even the secretary on loan from the local district attorney’s office was already hard at work, entering something into her computer. And in one corner, packed in several boxes, was the material he would need to make the state’s case against one Judson Thaddeus Ingalls. At present, he knew only the essentials. The seventy-eight-year-old man was accused of murdering his wife at their lakeside estate some forty-two years ago. The story circulated after the woman’s disappearance was that she had run away, probably with another man, leaving her husband to raise their young daughter. That falsehood had been widely believed until recently, when her remains had inconveniently turned up.

Ethan placed one of the boxes on the table nearest his desk and started to empty it. He would familiarize himself with the details of the case, first by going over the police reports and then by moving through all the other materials gathered for presentation to the grand jury. He dragged a chair over to the table and sat down.

He was beginning to work his way through the initial stack of reports when the man assigned to the case from the State Department of Justice came quietly into the room.

Carlos Varadero and Ethan had worked together several times before. Ethan liked the man, admired him for both his professional ability and his tenacity. Not much slipped by the keen eye of the Cuban. As an investigator, he was first-rate.

Carlos flashed a quick smile. “I have learned something that will interest you, my friend.”

Ethan pushed the papers away. “What?” he asked.

“This Amanda Baron, the woman who is to act as defense counsel for Judson Ingalls. She is his granddaughter. And...” The word was drawn out, then repeated for dramatic effect as Carlos brought another chair closer to the table. “And she is also the granddaughter of the deceased. There, what do you think of that? I had only to ask one or two questions. People here are interested in the trial. Many of them know Amanda Baron personally. A few know her family. More know of her family. They are very influential.”

Ethan already knew that the Ingalls family was influential in Tyler, and it didn’t surprise him that their influence carried beyond the small town’s border and into the county seat. The fact that he had been brought in as special prosecutor spoke volumes. What he hadn’t known was that Amanda Baron was one of them! “We have to get her off the case,” he stated curtly, his mouth tightening.

“That may be hard to do,” Carlos said.

“We still have to try. Her presence could prejudice the jury.” Ethan crossed to the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the public green surrounding the courthouse. He watched as people walked to and fro along the sidewalks. “No one should be above the reach of the law,” he said firmly. “No matter how wealthy, no matter how influential. Judson Ingalls thought he could get away with the murder of his wife, and if it hadn’t been for a quirk of fate, he might have managed it. I’m not going to let him make a mockery of this trial.”

For Ethan there was no other course. His whole life had been set along one path. It was as natural for him to separate right from wrong as it was to breathe. The pursuit of justice burned within him like a bright light, often setting him apart, forcing him to choose between what was expedient and what was just. It was a matter of pride for him that he had never backed away from a hard choice.

He turned from the window and lifted another box onto the table. “You might as well get started, too,” he said, pushing it toward his assistant.

Carlos’s brown eyes were amused. “I also heard that Amanda Baron is a very pretty, very determined woman. The people in the courthouse speak highly of her.”

Ethan paused. “Do you think that should make a difference to me?”

Carlos shrugged. “You are a man. You will notice.”

“I was sent here to do a job, Carlos.”

“Do you want me to find out more about her? I could go to Tyler tomorrow and talk to some of the people there.”

Ethan thought for a moment. “That might be a good idea. I’ll come along, too. Feel out the atmosphere of the place.”

Then he resettled in his chair and again started to sort through the material that would form his case. It was going to be a long evening.

* * *

AMANDA DIRECTED her aging MG into the wide driveway at the side of the Ingallses’ big house on Elm Street. From the collection of cars, she could see that Jeff was home, which meant Cece might be there, too, and that Liza was visiting, undoubtedly with Cliff and baby Maggie.

The elation Amanda had felt on the drive back to Tyler suddenly deserted her. Even with Professor Williams—Peter—offering advice, it would still be she who would have to face Ethan Trask. She might still make all kinds of mistakes, ask the wrong questions, let important points slip by.

She looked at the huge Victorian house, whose lights were striving to hold the night at bay. The family had been through so much this past year. From the moment the body was found, rumors had started to fly. Then rumor had turned to fact, when the remains had been identified as Margaret’s. From that point on, their lives had been one long nightmare. Sometimes it was hard to tell friend from foe. A few people wanted to see the Ingallses receive their comeuppance. Others remained steadfastly loyal, while still others swayed in the breeze of whatever public sentiment seemed dominant that day.

Instead of being torn apart, though, the family had grown closer—even Liza, who had once been estranged from them. They were united by the common belief that Judson Ingalls was innocent of the accusation made against him. And they looked to her to prove it.

Amanda shivered slightly in the freshening breeze, reacting to the awesome responsibility. But she soon set her shoulders, restored her confident smile and made her way into the great house that had sheltered members of her family for well over a hundred years.

Voices from the living room drew her to that section of the house. No one noticed her at first, so she had a moment to survey the scene. Her sister, Liza, sat on the floor, her long, lanky frame leaning back against her husband, Cliff Forrester. Cliff, relaxed in a wing chair, quietly combed a lock of Liza’s rebellious blond hair with his fingers and listened intently as she spoke. The girls’ older brother, Jeff, and his fiancée, Cece Scanlon, sat on the couch. Both looked rather exhausted from their respective work shifts at the hospital and the nursing care facility at Worthington House, not to mention the additional time each spent at the free clinic Jeff had set up in one of the empty office suites at Ingalls Farm and Machinery. For them to be off duty at the same time was unusual, as was the fact that they had chosen to spend their spare time with the family instead of away somewhere on their own. Alyssa, the Baron siblings’ mother, sat in another wing chair holding little Maggie. The worried strain that had become so much a part of her beautiful features was softened by the love she felt for her first grandchild. With strands of her fine golden hair falling gracefully over her cheeks, she played with the newborn infant’s tiny hand. Judson, the white-haired patriarch of the family, stood with his back to the bay window, his posture ramrod straight. He was the first to acknowledge Amanda’s presence.

“Amanda,” he said when Liza, too, noticed her and abruptly stopped talking. “I saw you drive up, but it took awhile for you to come inside. Are you having more trouble with your car?”

Amanda’s car was the joke of the family. As it grew older, it seemed to break down almost as frequently as it ran. Still, she loved it. It had been a sixteenth-birthday present from her father, and that above all made it special to her. She smiled. “Amazingly, it’s running beautifully.”

“You must have placed Carl on a retainer fee,” Liza teased. “I heard he closed his garage for two weeks this summer and went to Hawaii. Did you single-handedly subsidize his vacation?”

“No,” Amanda retorted. “Actually, we barter. I’m going to handle his divorce, and he’s going to rebuild my engine.”

“Better watch out about letting him get too close to your carburetor,” Jeff goaded. “I’ve heard he’s become quite the ladies’ man since he separated from his wife.”

“Jeffrey,” Alyssa admonished, pretending to frown while at the same time fighting a smile. “Leave your sister alone.”

“Yes, Jeffrey,” Amanda taunted, while Liza and Cece giggled.

Even Judson managed to find a grin. The family so seldom had occasion to laugh these days, any opportunity was appreciated.

Amanda placed her purse on a small side table and claimed a section of couch nearest her mother’s chair. She leaned toward the baby, smoothing a tiny tuft of fine blond hair. “And how is Miss Margaret Alyssa today? Learn any new words? Can we count past ten yet? Hmm?”

The weeks-old infant opened her eyes and blinked at her aunt, causing Amanda to feel the weight of responsibility expand to a new generation. Liza and Cliff had been through so much in their individual lives—Cliff having to learn to deal with the aftereffects of his time spent in Cambodia, and Liza at last coming to terms with one of the major tragedies of the Baron family, their father’s suicide. Now the two planned to make Tyler their permanent home, and as a result, young Maggie would have to live with the outcome of the trial. She would grow to maturity among people who would look upon her great-grandfather either as an upstanding member of the community, as he’d always been, or as a convicted murderer.

Amanda shook away the thought. She couldn’t deal with it at present. “What did I interrupt when I came in?” she asked.

All the smiles disappeared.

“We were talking about the trial,” Liza volunteered. “About Ethan Trask. Jeff heard someone at the hospital say he arrived in Sugar Creek today.”

Amanda felt her insides tighten. “He did,” she confirmed.

“What does that mean?” Alyssa asked.

“It means that he’s getting ready to try the case. He’ll set up his office, then start talking to people.”

Jeff frowned. “But I thought the district attorney had already investigated the case. The police...Karen, Brick. Why do they have to do more?”

“Ethan Trask will want to talk with everyone himself. He’s coming into this new, remember? The attorney general just appointed him.”

Liza’s frown was fierce. “I still don’t see why Mr. Burns had to ask for a special prosecutor. It’s not as if he and Granddad are best buddies. They barely know each other outside of a couple of charity events. Isn’t that right, Granddad?”

Judson nodded.

“I know,” Amanda agreed. “It’s hard to understand, but the district attorney had to disqualify himself because of the way the situation could be interpreted. If Granddad is found not guilty, it might be thought that the D.A. didn’t push hard enough. Mr. Burns and Granddad aren’t best friends, but they do know each other.”

Liza grunted. “Mr. Burns is watching out for Mr. Burns. He doesn’t want to do anything to foul up his chances of reelection.”

“That’s probably true, too,” Amanda conceded. “But it doesn’t change the original fact. He had no choice except to take himself off the case.”

“So he made sure we got Ethan Trask,” Liza complained.

“He had no say in the matter. That choice belonged to the state attorney general.”

“Remind me not to vote for him, either,” Cliff said quietly, gaining a quick smile of approval from his wife.

“Me, too,” Cece agreed. Jeff squeezed her hand.

Amanda decided that the time was right. She had planned to tell her grandfather the news later, but since everyone was here... “I think I gained a point for our side today,” she announced. “Actually, a whole lot of points. Do any of you remember when I was in law school and talked about a Professor Williams? How brilliant he was, and how lucky I felt to have him as one of my instructors?” She received blank looks all around. “Well, Professor Williams—Peter—is retired now, and he lives at Lake Geneva. I spoke with him this evening. That’s why I was late, why I missed dinner. He’s agreed to advise me on Granddad’s case!”

The expected excitement didn’t occur. Finally, Liza questioned, “Does that mean he’s taking over?”

Oh, if only that were true! Amanda thought. But she shook her head. “No. He’s agreed to help, that’s all. He’s very experienced in courtroom procedure and criminal law. He was a practicing trial attorney for years before he went into teaching. He’s very respected. He’s even written a book—”

“Does it make you feel better that he agreed to assist you?” Judson interrupted.

Amanda gazed at her grandfather’s strong face—the high cheekbones, the commanding Ingalls nose and chin, the eyes that could be stern but were mostly gentle. “Yes,” she answered truthfully. “It makes me feel better.”

“Then that’s all that counts,” Judson decreed. “I agree with your decision. His first name is Peter, you say? My father’s name. A good name for a man.”

“I think you’ll like him, Granddad,” Amanda assured him, relieved that her grandfather had consented.

Judson nodded, then turned to look outside. He’d been doing a lot of that recently—standing and looking out windows. Amanda couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking about the present or remembering something from the past.

Cliff glanced at his watch, then stood. He helped Liza to her feet as well. “We have to go,” Liza said. She collected her daughter from her mother’s lap. “Little Maggie needs to hit the sack...not to mention Mommy and Daddy. Cece, when you gave us all those childbirth lessons, why didn’t you warn us that once babies come into the world they like to torture their parents? I thought she’d wake up only once a night to be fed, not every two hours like clockwork. And Cliff’s no help. He doesn’t come with the right equipment! He gets up with me, though, just to be fair.”

“Remind me to put you up on the roof the next time a shingle blows loose,” Cliff teased.

Liza flashed a reckless smile. “You think I wouldn’t do it?”

Jeff laughed. “Liza, Cliff’s been married to you long enough to know when to back off. If he’s not careful, the next time it storms you’ll be up on the roof replacing missing shingles, all the while suckling your newborn child!”

“I don’t want Maggie to grow up with preconceived notions about people,” Liza defended.

Once again Jeff laughed. “Sis, I seriously doubt that there’s any danger of that! Not with you for a mom.”

Cece stood up to hug Liza. “Don’t pay any attention to him,” she advised. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

Jeff pretended to be hurt. “You can say that about me? You’re going to have to make that up to me, my girl.” He pulled Cece back down to his side and kissed her, long and with feeling. When he let her go, she was pink. Her fingers fluttered to her short, dark hair, but the secret smile she wore was a pleased one.

With her daughter cradled in one arm, Liza made the rounds, hugging her mother, her brother, her grandfather and finally Amanda. “Walk out to the car with us,” she whispered in Amanda’s ear. “I have to talk to you.” Her smile urged Amanda not to react.

Amanda gave a short, almost imperceptible nod and kept her own smile in place.

Liza passed the baby to Cliff, who somehow managed to look instantly comfortable with the tiny burden. His quietness seemed to instill quietness in the child. Maggie gave one tiny wiggle and went to sleep. Liza smiled and went about the business of collecting the array of baby things, which she then packed away in a soft cloth bag.

“Here, let me help,” Amanda volunteered. She took the bag from her sister, which freed Liza to arrange a light blanket around her child for protection against the night.

After their final goodbyes, Amanda followed them out to the car, and while Cliff put the baby into an infant-restraint seat, Liza said worriedly, “I didn’t want to ask inside, but what if he wants to see me? What should I do? Can I refuse?”

Amanda knew immediately who “he” was: the man who seemed to be on everyone’s mind—Ethan Trask. “Yes, you can refuse,” she said. “But he’ll subpoena you for the trial. He has the power of the state behind him. He can make you testify.”

“But what if he comes around before that...what do I do?”

“Am I your lawyer?”

“What do you... Of course you’re my lawyer!” Liza replied, catching on quickly. “Mine and Cliff’s both. Right, Cliff?”

Cliff straightened, his tall good looks emphasized by the diffuse light from the house windows. “Right,” he agreed.

“If you’re contacted, call me right away,” Amanda said. “Tell him you won’t be interviewed unless I’m present.”

Liza gave a devilish smile. “I’m almost beginning to feel sorry for the man!”

“Well, don’t. He knows a lot more about what he’s doing than I do.”

Liza sobered instantly. “I wish Cliff and I had never found the rug or that Joe Santori had never given me the bullet. I wish...no, I can’t wish that. If I’d never come back to Tyler, Cliff and I wouldn’t have met, and there’d be no Maggie. But if I hadn’t insisted upon redoing the lodge... It’s my fault, isn’t it, that this has happened? Leave it to me! Leave it to Liza to screw everything up!”

“Liza...” Cliff’s quiet voice cut into his wife’s frustration. “No one blames you.”

“It would have come out eventually, Liza,” Amanda agreed. “Granddad had thought several times about selling the lodge. It was only a matter of time before he did and before someone else started renovations.”

“But he looks so old now. What if he can’t stand up to the pressures of a trial? What if he collapses? What if he—”

“You’re tired,” Amanda said. “A lot has happened to you over the past few weeks. You’ve given birth, you’re trying to adjust to motherhood, both you and the baby are still chock-full of hormones. The grandfather you love dearly has been indicted for murder...just an ordinary month in the life of one Mary Elizabeth Baron Forrester.” Amanda patted her sister’s hand. “Go home, Liza. Go home with your wonderful husband, and let me worry about Granddad. I have reinforcements now. I’m not nearly as afraid as I once was.”

“Are you telling us the truth?” Liza demanded. “You’re not just saying that to make me stop worrying?”

Amanda crossed her heart, the sign the Baron siblings had used since childhood to signify truth telling.

Liza’s face brightened, but Cliff wasn’t fooled. Unlike his wife, Cliff didn’t want to be fooled. Amanda hesitated to look at him, but she felt her gaze drawn. In her brother-in-law’s black eyes she saw the truth. And she knew that he knew she hadn’t spoken it.