Last to Die (34 page)

I'd say so, yes.

One last photo. He handed it to him and said, How about this one? It's an even tighter zoom. Does this appear to be a fair and accurate depiction of your left wrist as taken from the original photograph?

This is my wrist, yes.

That's your Rolex watch, too?

Yes.

It has a calendar on it, does it not?

Gerry paused, as if sensing where this was headed. Yes.

Take another look at the photograph. If you would, please read the date depicted on that watch calendar.

His expression fell, and he answered softly. It says N-O-V-Two.

That would be November second, correct?

Colletti shifted nervously in his seat, seeming to search for a way out of Jack's noose.

The judge took a good look at his copy of the photograph, then glared at the witness and said, Mr. Colletti, your answer please.

I presume that's what it means.

And the second day of November would have been, by my count, about two weeks before your alleged second encounter with my client, correct?

Gerry didn't answer.

Jack stepped closer. Mr. Colletti, these photographs weren't taken after your alleged second meeting with Mr. Knight on November fifteenth. These were taken after the alleged beating you received outside John Martin's pub in the early morning hours of November second. Isn't that right, sir?

The courtroom was silent. All eyes were upon the witness, and he kept staring at the photograph, as if willing the date to change. Finally, Gerry shrugged impishly at the judge and said, Gee, I don't know how I could have gotten that mixed up.

I think I've heard enough, the judge said.

Gerry said, Well, just a moment, Judge. If this is going to be a full-blown evidentiary hearing, I'd like a chance to question Mr. Knight.

Putting Tatum on the stand was the last thing Jack wanted. Had Gerry not overplayed his hand with the photographs, Jack might not have been able to prevent it. But now the momentum was his. Judge, in all candor, it appears that there may have been a technical violation of the court's restraining order.

Technical! said Gerry. He grabbed me by the throat.

The judge said, Yes, Mr. Colletti. We've all seen your photographs.

A light rumble of laughter came from the galley. Jack said, We'll stipulate to the entry of a five-hundred-dollar fine, with the express understanding that no further breaches of the order will be tolerated.

I object, said Gerry.

Done, said the judge, pointing with his gavel for emphasis.

And I do mean zero tolerance, Mr. Swyteck. Next time, your client's in jail.

Understood, said Jack.

The judge looked at Gerry and said, You may file your motion to disqualify Mr. Knight under the Slayer Statute if you wish. But let me make myself clear: Do not request a hearing and do not take this court's time unless you have evidence to present.

Yes, Your Honor, he said, grumbling.

The judge looked out on the crowd and said, If there is no further business before the court, then we are -

Vivien Grasso rose and said, Your Honor, there is one more thing.

All heads turned toward the personal representative. What is it? asked the judge.

She spoke with a pained expression. I've been giving this very serious thought over the past few days, and I apologize for raising it now. But seeing what just went on in this courtroom only helped me reach my final decision.

Final decision as to what? the judge asked.

I wish to resign as personal representative of Sally Fenning's estate.

The crowd came to life, as if smelling something newsworthy.

Excuse me? said the judge.

One of my most important duties as personal representative is to distribute the estate to the heirs. I'm simply not comfortable distributing anything where the beneficiaries may be beating each other up and killing each other to get the inheritance.

The judge said, Let me assure you that no one will be distributing assets or receiving any inheritance until the deaths of Mason Rudsky and Deirdre Meadows are fully explained and accounted for.

I appreciate that, Judge. But I've made up my mind.

I'm afraid that's not enough. By law, this court cannot allow you to resign until a replacement PR is found.

I've taken care of that, she said. I've been in contact with several possible replacements. One of them agreed just yesterday to step in and serve if I decided to resign.

Who is it?

Vivien turned toward the crowd and said, She's in the courtroom now. Rene Fenning, Sally's sister.

Jack turned so quickly he nearly cracked his neck. A woman rose from her seat in the middle of the eighth row of public seating. She was dressed in a blue business suit, her makeup done smartly, her hair perfect, like an ad from a fashion magazine. Jack had said good-bye to a very different-looking woman, no less beautiful, on that last rainy night in Africa.

The judge said, Ms. Fenning?

Vivien said, It's actually Dr. Fenning. She's an M. D.

Dr. Fenning, has Ms. Grasso stated your intentions correctly?

Yes, Your Honor, she replied.

Step forward please. We may as well make the switch official.

The courtroom was silent as Rene came forward save for the gentle scratch of pencils on notepads as reporters rewrote the lead paragraph of tomorrow's press coverage. Jack, too, watched her every move. He'd gathered glimpses of her beauty through the dirt and sweat of Africa. He'd imagined what she might look like in another place, under different conditions, but even his own vivid imagination had short-changed her. He'd hardly expected to see her again, never would have guessed it would have been this soon. It wasn't immediately clear what her involvement would mean for the administration of Sally's estate, but on an entirely different level, one that had him smiling on the inside, he was glad she'd come to Miami.

Tatum whispered, Damn, she's even hotter than her sister was.

Jack could have told him that she had a brain to match, but he let it pass, chalking it up to some Knight brother gene that could never let the obvious go unstated.

Rene passed through the swinging mahogany gate and stood beside Vivien Grasso at the lectern. The judge greeted her with a pleasant smile, then briefly quizzed her on her background and her relationship with her sister. It wasn't anything Jack didn't already know about her, but somehow it was interesting to hear it all again in Rene's own voice.

When they finished, the judge looked across the courtroom and asked, Do the heirs have any objection to Dr. Fenning serving as personal representative of her sister's estate?

Silence. The judge said, Seeing none I would ask Dr. Fenning to please stop by chambers at the conclusion of this hearing. There is some paperwork to complete, and an oath to be administered. Good luck to you, young lady. We are adjourned, he said, ending it with a bang of the gavel.

All rise!

On cue, the crowd was on its feet. Silence reigned for the full ten seconds it took the judge to walk to his side chambers, followed by the rumble of a hundred different conversations that commenced immediately upon his disappearance behind the heavy wood door.

Colletti glanced at Jack from across the courtroom, but he and his lawyer were in an obvious hurry to get outside and make themselves available for press interviews. They packed up quickly and merged into the crowded center aisle, followed by Miguel Rios and his lawyer. Jack started to make his way toward Vivien Grasso, just to tell her No hard feelings, but Rene came to him and said, Surprised?

In this case, nothing surprises me.

I guess your coming to Africa started to play on my conscience. It's time I did my part to figure out what happened to my sister.

I think that's the right decision.

She averted her eyes, then looked back at him. I suppose that we should get together soon.

Get together?

Yes. I mean, I'll be meeting with all the lawyers, of course.

Oh, of course, he said. Anytime.

I'm sure you're busier than I am. I'm staying at the Hyatt till I can find an apartment. Call me, let me know what's good for you.

I'll do that.

A reporter called out her name from the other side of the rail. Several other members of the media were waiting in the aisle, eager to speak with the new personal representative, Sally's sole living relative.

Rene looked at Jack and said, Guess I'm about to get my first experience in the beauty of No comment.'

If you're smart.

She raised an eyebrow, and Jack said, And they don't come any smarter.

Nice save.

It's what we lawyers do.

She smiled a little and said, It's good to see you again.

Good to see you again, too.

She turned and headed for the exit. Jack gathered his things, then glanced over his shoulder on impulse, only to catch her glancing back at him. They exchanged a little smile, as if they were having the same embarrassing thought, something along the lines of I can't believe I looked, but it's nice to know you did, too. Then Rene disappeared into the crowd, and Jack suddenly caught sight of Kelsey standing at the rail. He excused himself from his client, then called her to his side of the rail. She pushed through the gate, and they stepped closer to the bench where they could talk out of earshot of all but the lip readers.

Better be careful, said Kelsey.

Careful about what?

You and the new PR keep making eyes at each other like that, it'll be all over tomorrow's newspapers.

We weren't - do we have to talk about this here?

Is she the reason you didn't want me at counsel's table with you for this hearing?

Jack was starting to feel accused, and he didn't like it. It was Tatum who didn't want you here. After the way you let your guard down and slipped attorney-client secrets to Deirdre Meadows, he doesn't trust you anymore. I'm sorry.

And what about you?

Kelsey, this isn't the place.

It's a simple question: Do you trust me?

He paused for a breath, as if the question was far too complex to answer in this setting. Yes. I trust you.

More than Rene? she asked, eyes narrowing.

I hardly know Rene.

Could have fooled me.

He softened his voice, not because he feared someone would overhear, but because things were getting uncomfortable. Kelsey, before I left for Africa, I thought we agreed that it was in Nate's best interest that we put things on hold between us. So I'm not really sure how to respond.

Just be honest with me. How am I supposed to feel when you're making eyes across the courtroom at another woman less than forty-eight hours after you told me everything is going to be okay between us?

I meant professionally everything was going to be okay between us.

Professionally? The way you were looking at me was no more professional than the look you were shooting Rene just now.

I wasn't - He started to deny it, but it didn't ring true. He could see the disappointment all over Kelsey's face, as if she would have preferred some kind of denial, any kind at all, over another heartache.

Jack said, Look, I don't know what you think you saw. But I honestly don't know what's going to happen.

She shook her head slowly and said, Then you're blind.

What?

The woman's been living in the friggin' African desert for nearly three years. Knock yourself out, Jack.

She walked away, and he didn't follow. He just watched in silence, not knowing what to think, not wanting to think anymore about it. But he couldn't stop himself from thinking, and it was making him feel guilty.

Because all he could think about was Rene.

Part Four Chapter Forty-Eight It was happy hour at Sparky's, but Jack wasn't feeling very happy. He'd been brooding on a bar stool since leaving the courthouse, pouring his heart out to Theo, who was sort of tending bar but mostly keeping an eye on the cash register, making sure that his new bartender wasn't ripping him off. Sparky's attracted a rough crowd, a hangout for working men and women, not the typical suit n secretary pickup joint that the professional crowd flocked to near Brickell Avenue or Alhambra Circle. There was no Ketel One vodka, no Chivas Regal scotch, and the only imported beer was El Presidente, a Dominican cerveza that Theo sold below cost to the tomato pickers from Homestead every Tuesday night because there sure as hell wasn't anyone else gonna cut em a break. But on the most basic, human level, happy hour at Sparky's was just the same old story. Bad lighting, loud music, drinks aplenty. Ribbed condoms and tongue-scorching breath mints for sale in the bathrooms. Clusters of men eyeing women, women eyeing men, people talking too loud and laughing too hard, the same scene every weekend, inhibitions dissolved and judgments impaired with each lonely misstep in the shot-and-a-beer mating dance.

Call her, said Theo, talking over the clatter of bottles and meaningless conversations along the bar.