Life Support (42 page)

The waitress brought their food, and Ted prayed a blessing. He opened his eyes when he finished and glanced at Mrs. Hobart. She hadn't heard him say “Amen” and was sitting peacefully with her head bowed and her wrinkled hands folded in front of her. Both Ted and Alexia watched her for several seconds until Ted leaned forward and in a louder voice said, “Amen!” Mrs. Hobart jerked up her head.

“That sure was a long prayer,” she said. “Let's eat!”

Mrs. Hobart took a tiny bite of fish, chewed it for a few seconds, and gave a satisfied sigh. Ted smiled at her and then turned toward Alexia.

“What's been happening in your life since Friday night?” he asked.

Alexia told him about her experience reading the Bible on Saturday morning. “I've never been interested in reading it before, not even for cultural reasons. It was surprising to me how much I enjoyed it.”

“That happens to a lot of people. You're tuned in to a new station, and after what happened at my house, you have the ability to hear it.”

They sat in silence for a few moments. Mrs. Hobart was not a rapid eater. She savored every bite as if it were her first.

Ted spoke again. “You know, it's a good thing you left your law firm.”

“Why do you say that?”

“While we've been eating, a Bible verse came to mind that fits the situation. It's in Ephesians and says,
Therefore do not be partners with them
.”

Alexia smiled. “Is this a joke?”

“No, I'm serious.”

“That's a statement without context. I mean, it sounds like the punch line for something else.”

Ted nodded. “You're right. I should read the surrounding passage.”

He took a small New Testament from the pocket of his shirt and opened it. Mrs. Hobart saw him.

“Are you going to stand on your chair and preach?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye. “Speak up loud and clear. I couldn't hear much of the sermon this morning.”

Ted pointed to Alexia. “I'm preaching to her.”

Mrs. Hobart reached out and patted Alexia's hand. “Listen to him. He's smart, and you can trust him.”

Alexia answered but looked into Ted's eyes. “I think you're right.”

Ted gave her an appreciative look and then said, “Here is the section that contains the sentence I quoted.
Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of such things God's wrath comes on those who are disobedient. Therefore do not be partners with them. For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light (for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth) and find out what pleases the Lord. Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them. For it is shameful even to mention what the disobedient do in secret.”

The minister stopped and glanced up. “What do you think?”

The words described everything that had happened to Alexia personally, the law firm, and the Richardson family during the past few weeks.

“That's in the Bible?” she asked.

Ted handed it to her with his thumb on the place where he'd started reading. “See for yourself.”

Alexia read the passage again while Ted finished the last few bites of his meal.

“I want to be a child of the light,” she said. “And in my work, I'm often trying to uncover what happens in secret so I can help my clients.”

“I bet you're good at it, aren't you?” Ted asked.

Alexia nodded. “Yes. It's one of my talents.”

Ted took a last sip of tea. “Then imagine how good you will become at exposing the deeds of darkness if you dedicate your talent to God.”

Mrs. Hobart wanted a piece of key lime pie for dessert, so Ted ordered one for her and himself.

“How about you?” he asked Alexia.

“No thanks,” she said.

When the waitress brought the pie, there were two forks on the piece she set in front of Ted. He handed one to Alexia.

“Eat a bite. It's your destiny.”

Alexia cut through the meringue, the filling, and the graham cracker crust. It was sweet with a touch of tartness.

“Yum,” she said.

Ted followed after her and ate two quick bites. Before he ate another, Alexia reached across and sliced off a large chunk. She slightly lifted it from the plate and then looked at Ted with a question in her eyes.

“Are you sure you don't want me to order a piece for you?” he asked.

“I'd rather share,” she said looking into Ted's eyes.

Mrs. Hobart spoke, “Are y'all talking about the stock market? I've never been much on stocks. It seemed like gamblin' for rich folks. 'Course, I've never had no extra money anyway.”

Ted laughed. “How's your pie, Mrs. Hobart?”

“Good, but it could be a little sweeter.”

When they finished their pie, Ted paid for the meal, and they drove from the restaurant to Mrs. Hobart's house.

“
I'll be taking a nap today,” she said as Alexia stopped the car. “And dreaming of fish and hush puppies. Thanks for dinner.”

“You're welcome!” Ted responded.

Mrs. Hobart patted Alexia on the arm. “You have a sweet face and happy eyes. Do you have a job?”

“Yes, ma'am. I'm a lawyer.”

Mrs. Hobart opened her eyes in surprise, and Alexia braced herself for a negative comment on women in the law.

“That's fine as long as you're careful.”

It was Alexia's turn to look puzzled.

“Yes, I'll be careful.”

Mrs. Hobart got out of the car and walked slowly to her front door.

As they drove away, Alexia glanced at Ted, “Why did she tell me to be careful? Did she hear me when I told her I was a lawyer?”

Ted shrugged. “I don't know. I usually go with the flow of whatever she says. It's more fun that way, and she seems to enjoy it, but sometimes it doesn't make a lot of sense.”

While they drove back to the church, Ted glanced sideways at Alexia. Now that they were alone, he was acutely aware of her femininity. Mrs. Hobart was right about the young lawyer—she had a sweet face and happy eyes. And now she had a glow about her countenance that Ted attributed to her recent encounter with the Lord.

The combined effect was an attraction that touched him at an even deeper level than the interest sparked by her previous appreciation for music. He struggled with how to respond. He wanted to take a step toward her but didn't want to tread heavily on the new spiritual growth springing up inside her. The minister and the man were in conflict as they turned onto McBee Road and approached the church. When they reached the old parsonage, Alexia stopped the car, and Ted started to get out in a condition of stalemate.

“Could I stay a minute?” Alexia asked. “I'd like to go to the backyard.”

“Uh, okay.”

An afternoon breeze eased in from the ocean that made it cooler than when the church service had ended at noon. They walked around the corner of the house. It was as quiet as only a Sunday afternoon can be. Alexia went to the place where she'd stepped into the light. Ted held back, not sure what she wanted to do. She looked at him over her shoulder.

“No, please come here,” she said. “I want you with me.”

Ted joined her as she gazed across the yard. Neither spoke. Alexia reached across and took his hand. It was a simple gesture, but Ted swallowed at the intensity of what he felt. They continued looking forward, but Ted saw nothing. Every sense in his being was focused on his contact with Alexia. He wanted to soak in the moment so completely that it would remain as a memory with power. Then she turned toward him, took his other hand, and looked up into his face.

“Thank you,” she said.

Ted looked puzzled. “For what?”

Alexia smiled slightly. “For more than you can imagine.”

She raised each of his hands in turn and lightly kissed them.

35

Someone had better be prepared for rage.

ROBERT FROST

O
n Wednesday morning, Alexia was sitting at her desk when Byron Devereaux phoned and told her Rena's car was ready to be released.

“Has anything else developed on the case?” Alexia asked.

“We have several leads but nothing definite. Most investigations like this break quickly, but it hasn't happened in this one.”

“I saw the clip on the news the other night about the officer's funeral.”

“Yeah. We received more calls after the show, and I'm sifting through them.”

“What about the fingerprints?”

“Of course, your client's prints are everywhere. The hospital in Greenville sent prints from Mr. Richardson by overnight courier. They matched several spots in the car, and there are other unidentified prints on the passenger door handle. They were fairly clear, so we lifted them and sent them to the FBI lab in Washington. We don't think the car holds any more clues.”

“Is there anything else Mrs. Richardson can do to help?”

“Just keep her eyes open for anything suspicious around her house and let us know if she remembers anything else. We've requested help from the Santee police since the murderer may be from that area. Most professional car thieves don't prowl small towns looking for vehicles. They stick to metropolitan areas. I think this was a joyride that went bad and doubt that the person who did it lives in Charleston.”

Alexia called Rena with the news and gave her the address where the car was being stored.

“Do they have any suspects?” Rena asked.

“Not yet.”

“I don't want the car back,” Rena said. “The thought of driving it after what happened makes me sick to my stomach. I'd rather trade it in on something else.”

“What do you want to do about picking it up?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. “Could you get it? I don't want to have anything to do with it.”

Alexia jerked back her head. “That's not my job. Call a wrecker and tell them to tow it to a dealer who can sell it.”

Rena continued whining. “Would you set it up with the police? I don't like talking to them.”

Alexia sighed. “Okay. Where do you want the car towed?”

Rena named a car dealership south of Santee as the destination.

“I'll notify Detective Devereaux and let him know,” Alexia said. “Is Jeffrey going to attend the hearing on Friday?”

“No, I talked to him after the theft of the car and brought it up again. He'd promised to help, but he backed out on me.”

“Does that mean he's not going to give us any other information about your father-in-law?”

It was a slip, and as soon as she spoke, Alexia wanted to reel the words back into her mouth. Rena hadn't specifically identified Jeffrey as her friendly mole.

“I hope not,” Rena responded without indicating she'd realized the implication of Alexia's question.

Alexia quickly continued. “Do you think it would help if I contacted him? I've never met him, but I could explain the process and try to persuade him.”

“Who knows? He only cares about himself. Don't bother.”

“Whether he testifies is not that important,” Alexia said. “The doctors will be the key witnesses. Dr. Draughton has confirmed that he will be there, and I sent a subpoena to make sure Ken Pinchot, the lawyer from my old firm who will be representing your father-in-law, has subpoenaed Dr. Berman and Dr. Kolb. I've tried to reach them by phone but haven't gotten through. It would be good to have an idea about their testimony before we go to court, so I'm going to Greenville on Thursday morning and try to interview them. They might even try to avoid coming to the hearing.”

“I thought they would have to come if they are subpoenaed.”

“Yes, but neurosurgeons can come up with great excuses such as they can't leave a patient on the operating table to run down to the courthouse and talk to a judge. I won't be surprised if their lawyer files a motion to quash the subpoena.”

“It would be good for us if they didn't come, wouldn't it?” Rena asked.

“Yes. If Dr. Draughton is the only doctor who shows up, it could be a quick hearing.”

“How soon would they turn off Baxter's life support?”

“I will have a proposed order with me at the hearing. It's nothing fancy, but it contains the proper legal language with the date left blank for the judge to fill in. If we win, I'll ask the judge to make it effective immediately.”

“It's hard to believe something is finally going to be done,” Rena said. “I thought this nightmare would never end.”

“There's no guarantee—”

“I know, I know,” Rena interrupted. “But it's a step in the right direction.”

“Have you called the hospital to check on Baxter?” Alexia asked.

“I contact the nurses' station every day, and they always say the same thing. He's in critical condition but stable.”

“Okay. Can we meet at the hospital at three o'clock on Thursday afternoon? It might help me reach the doctors if you are with me.”

“I'll be there. What should I do if Ezra shows up before you do?”

“Leave until I arrive. Go to the room where we met with the doctors and wait for me there.”

Alexia hadn't called Ken Pinchot to talk about the case. She'd received a faxed copy of the response he filed with the court in Greenville. It was a brief denial of the relief sought by Rena with a conclusion that the medical evidence did not support a finding that Baxter's condition was sufficiently serious to warrant termination of life-sustaining measures.

Later, she received a phone call that the bank had approved her loan to purchase the house on King Street. She walked down the hall and shared the good news with Rachel Downey, who promised to arrange the closing as soon as possible. The sellers weren't planning on coming to Santee.

“They're going to give power of attorney,” Rachel said. “I think they're naming a relative who lives in the area so she can sign the deed on their behalf and receive the settlement proceeds.”