Final Appeal (26 page)

The machine made a mechanical sound as it erased everything except her outgoing message. Her lawyer had been very emphatic about erasing her messages after she'd played them. She'd almost been caught in a very bad situation when she'd forgotten to erase a couple of messages in the past. Luckily, her client hadn't left a number and her lawyer had convinced the police that it had been a crank call.

Ebony Rose glanced at the diamond wristwatch she'd bought right after she'd formed her first corporation. It was almost four o'clock and she had just enough time to drink a cup of herbal tea and read her morning paper before Miles arrived to make her pretty for the man she loved.

Michael made himself another cup of coffee and sat down at the table. He had run with Toni at one-thirty and had breakfast at her apartment. Then he'd come back to his place to shower and dress in clean clothes. Right now he was about to read the morning paper, even though it was after three-thirty in the afternoon.

He leaned back in his chair and groaned. Even a twenty-minute shower under water as hot as he could stand it hadn't taken the kinks out of his back. He felt like he'd been chopping wood in his sleep. Maybe he had. At least Toni hadn't noticed that he'd gone out to drive her car again last night. And just like the other times he'd driven in his sleep, he didn't have the slightest notion where he'd gone. The only thing he'd been able to remember was a sign for a freeway with two numeral ones in it. That didn't help much. He'd checked the map, and it could have been the 110, the 118, or the 101. And it was always possible he'd seen the sign and not taken the freeway. Not being able to trust his sleeping body to stay in bed was driving him batty.

Michael took the little red rubber band off the newspaper and hung it over the kitchen doorknob. He had quite a collection of red rubber bands by now, one for each day that he'd been out of the hospital. They represented his freedom, or he supposed he should call it semi-freedom. He didn't feel free enough to go outside the apartment without being extra cautious, and he had to be home for Stan's call at nine every evening. But it was a far cry from the hospital, with its rigid schedule and restrictions. Now he could be by himself whenever he needed solitude, and work whenever he wanted, even at midnight. And he could see the people he really cared about at any time.

That meant Toni. He cared about her more than anyone else. Michael was sure he'd be content to live the rest of his life with Toni, but it was much too soon to tell her that. He hadn't even mentioned the word love. When his appeal was decided and he was truly free, he'd confess everything about his life that he'd held back, and tell her that he loved her.

The front page of the paper didn't hold any surprises. The president was trying to push his current legislation through Congress. There was a big picture on the first page of the nation's leader squaring off against one of the more vocal Congressmen. Michael stared at his face and remembered that he hadn't known who the president was until he'd escaped from the hospital. Maybe there was some truth to that adage, “Ignorance is bliss.” There was trouble in the Middle East again. That seemed to be a constant. And there was a feature story about a man who'd won over four million dollars in the Powerball lottery. They hadn't had that lottery before he'd gone to prison. Perhaps it had begun when he was in the hospital. He had no way of knowing. Every time he saw an article about the lottery, he had the urge to run out and buy a ticket. But if, by some strange miracle, he won anything big, they'd have to know who he was. The lottery was something else that would have to wait until Stan got the verdict on his appeal.

Michael skipped the comics and the editorial page. He'd come back to those later. Metro was the section he needed to read. If he'd done anything at all while he was driving last night, it would be reported in Metro.

“Death at Gateway University.” The headline caught his eye. Michael felt sick as he read the article. Professor James Zimmer had been killed last night, the victim of a violent mugging. Why hadn't Stan called to warn him? Perhaps he had, but the professor had ignored Stan's warning.

Michael felt sick as he finished the article. He knew a mugger hadn't attacked Professor Zimmer as he walked across the college campus. It had only looked like a mugger, the perfect cover-up for the deliberate murder of another juror. He wanted to call Stan to find out when he'd warned the professor, but he couldn't call from the phone in his apartment. Stan had been very specific about that. But he could call from a pay phone at the shopping center. Toni had told him about the mall that was only a few blocks away. Not even a paranoid like Stan could object to that.

He grabbed his keys and ran down the hall to Toni's apartment to borrow her car. At least he'd be asking this time, instead of commandeering it in the middle of the night.

Toni frowned as she picked up Mike's keys and headed for the door. She'd told three lies. First, she said her house keys were difficult to take off her key ring, although they snapped right off.

Then she asked Mike if he could please leave his keys since they could unlock the laundry room door and some of her clothes were drying downstairs. That was lie number two. She never used the apartment laundry room. She had her own washer and dryer hooked up in the hallway closet. Fortunately, Mike had never noticed.

Finally, she asked Mike to drop by the stationery store in the mall to pick up some paper for her printer because she'd just used the last ream. She had another case and a half on the shelf in her office, but she needed some time before he came back. The clerks in the stationery store were always slow about getting things out of the back room.

Just as she was about to go out the door, the telephone rang. It had been sitting there as mute as a giraffe for hours. But now, the moment she'd mustered the courage to do a little snooping, it was ringing its little bell off. Was it a sign from above that she should leave well enough alone? Unlikely. It was probably another wrong number, and if it was, she might just say something positively rude.

“Hello?” Toni answered, but there was silence. It was a long distance call. She could hear static on the line. Even though each long-distance carrier claimed their system was superior to every other carrier, they all had a certain amount of static on the line. Toni was about to hang up when she heard a series of clicks and then the static abated somewhat.

“Toni? Is that you?”

Toni smiled as she recognized Muriel's voice. “Yes it's me. Hello Muriel. Are you having trouble with your office phone? Your voice is really faint.”

“No, Toni. I'm not calling from the office. It's past seven in New York, and I don't work that late.”

“Of course you don't.” Toni felt silly for making that mistake. “I always forget about the time difference.”

“That's okay. Everyone else forgets about it, too. You have no idea of the number of calls I get at the office after five. I have to make this fast, Toni. I've got a train to catch if I ever want to get home tonight. Your guy is good, really good.”

For a moment, Toni was confused and then she caught on. “You mean Michael?”

“Yes. I started reading those pages you sent me on the train this morning, and I got so involved that I rode right past my stop. I talked to my boss about it, and he said to have Mike's agent call him to discuss terms. Just don't, and I repeat, do not send me any more of Mike's pages at the office. Send everything to my apartment. It's going to take me an extra hour to get home tonight and I'm just lucky I didn't end up in—”

There was a loud burst of static and then Muriel's voice came back on the line. “It's definitely good, Toni. Mike reminds me a lot of James—”

The line went dead before Muriel could finish. Toni stared down at the phone and listened to the dial tone for a moment. Then she hung up. James who? James Joyce? James Fennimore Cooper? James Baldwin? James somebody-or-other she'd never heard of? It didn't really matter which James it was. Muriel had loved Mike's book and Devonshire Publishing wanted to buy it!

Toni glanced down at the keys in her hand. Should she? Or shouldn't she? She should, of course! Now that Mike would soon have a book contract, he needed his wits about him. If she could figure out whatever thing in his past was causing his sleepwalking, he'd be better able to concentrate on giving Muriel his best work.

Was that a rationalization? Toni hurried out into the hall and unlocked Mike's door. Of course it was a rationalization, but that didn't matter. She wanted to do everything she could to help the man she loved. If she could satisfy her own curiosity in the process, so much the better.

 

 

Michael held the phone away from his ear as his brother ranted and raved. He'd known that Stan would be upset at his call, but he hadn't expected him to fly so completely off the handle. He waited for a break in the conversation and then he jumped in before Stan could get started again.

“Stan, calm down a minute. I'm calling from a phone at the mall. You know the one. It's only a couple of blocks from the apartment. It's perfectly safe.”

That set Stan off again, and Michael sighed. If he'd known his brother's reaction would be this bad, he would never have called. Finally, after another few minutes, Stan slowed down a little.

“You're sure no one spotted you, Mike? Absolutely positive?”

“I'm sure, Stan. There's about a million people out today. It's some kind of giant sale, and all the stores have tables set up in the mall. Nobody's interested in looking at a guy using the phone when there's a whole lot of bargains out on the tables.”

“Okay, okay. I'm sorry I yelled, but you can understand my concern. What's this emergency, Mike?”

“Professor Zimmer.”

“Oh, hell, Mike! I really am sorry. I made a mental note to call you, but it just slipped my mind. The police think it was a mugging, so you don't have to worry about it. Now go right back home and don't stop off anywhere. You can't be too careful.”

“Stan?” Mike couldn't believe his brother was being so casual. “That's not the point. I need to know if you warned the professor.”

“Warned him? Of course I warned him! I said I would, didn't I? But I'm afraid he didn't take my warning seriously, Mikey. He said I didn't have any proof that someone was after the jurors.”

Michael frowned. That was strange. Four people out of a group of seven had been killed. Maybe it wasn't exactly proof, but if Michael had been in that group, he certainly wouldn't have taken the statistics lightly.

Had Stan done a good job of warning the professor? “How about Rosalie Dumont and Sister Mary Clare? Do you think they took you seriously?”

“I'm sure they did, Mike.”

“But are you positive? The killer's going to try to get them next. We both know that.”

“Relax, Mikey. Take a deep breath. That helps to lower blood pressure. I don't want you getting sick on me. Not now. The minute I heard about Zimmer's death this morning, I ordered twenty-four-hour bodyguards for each of them. My men are in place right now. Does that make you feel better?”

Michael let out a long sigh of relief. “Yes, Stan. Thanks a lot. At least they'll have a better chance than Professor Zimmer did.”

“You bet they will! Is that all, Mikey? I've got a client waiting.”

“Just one more thing. Why do you think he's doing it Stan? I've been trying to figure it out, and I can't think of a reason.”

“I don't know. You're right, Mikey. It doesn't make sense, but the killer's reason doesn't really matter, does it?”

Michael frowned. It certainly mattered to him! There was a killer out there who was setting him up. He'd be crazy if he didn't want to know why!

“Sorry, Mike.” Stan broke the silence. “Of course it matters a lot to you. I just wasn't considering it from your perspective. But I've got a hunch it'll all be over this time tomorrow.”

“A hunch, Stan? I didn't think you believed hunches.”

“I don't, not usually. You'll have to trust me on this one, Mikey. It'll all be over by tomorrow. Just keep that in mind.”

At first Michael was puzzled. What was Stan talking about? Then he remembered that his brother had ordered guards. “I get it, Stan. If the killer tries it again tonight, your guards will pick him up.”

“Affirmative. This whole thing will be wound up tonight. That'll be a relief for both of us. Right, Mikey?”

“Right, Stan.”

Michael frowned. Stan sounded really strange. He was beginning to wonder if his brother was coming unhinged from the pressure.

“Mikey? I just want you to know that I'm sorry about Zimmer. He was a bit of a stuffed shirt, but he wasn't all dry and academic. Joyce said he really gave her the once-over.”

Michael's brain kicked into high gear. Joyce was Stan's secretary. How did she know Professor Zimmer?

“Professor Zimmer must have been the juror who brought you that footage. Is that right, Stan?”

“You're batting a thousand. And Zimmer did me one heck of a favor, Mike. Most people would have taken it straight to the police. Now go home. And stop worrying. Everything is under control. Maybe I'll drop in on you tonight, just to calm you down. You'd like to see your old brother again, wouldn't you, Mikey?”

“You know I would, Stan. But I thought you said it wasn't safe.”

“Oh, it's not. It's definitely not. But maybe I'll decide to live dangerously.” Stan chuckled. “If things work out the way I plan, I might just ring your doorbell instead of your phone. Now say good-bye, Mikey. And get your tail back home behind locked doors. I've got a lot of work to do.”

Michael said good-bye and hung up. What a weird conversation! Could Stan be on drugs? It wasn't so much what Stan had said as the way he'd said it. Of course Stan had a lot on his mind, and Michael had interrupted him in the middle of a client meeting, but he'd never known Stan to be quite so manic before.

He was still puzzling over his brother's curious state of mind when he walked back out into the center part of the mall. He'd go buy Toni's printer paper, and then, since he was already here, he might as well pick up a couple of other things he needed. It was nice being out in the world again.