Music of Ghosts (18 page)

Twenty-Five

Alex Carter woke up
early the next morning. Though she'd had a sweet bedtime conversation with her husband and two little boys, she'd slept fitfully, worried about the mediation ahead. All day yesterday she'd tried to explain to Jonathan that it was supposed to be a compromise—that you gave up some smaller point in order to gain some larger one. But the man had seethed like a kettle on slow boil. “Look at the damage Moon did to Lily in a month,” he insisted. “I'm never letting her go back there.”

“But you've got to give me something to offer them,” Alex had countered. “You're asking me to play poker with nothing in my hand.”

“I don't care,” he told her. “I'm not giving Lily up.”

She'd considered, as she lay awake, calling the mediation off.
My client is intractable
, she would tell opposing counsel.
We'll just have to work this out in court
. But ultimately she decided to go ahead with it. Jonathan was already out here and she'd cleared her calendar just for this. If nothing else, she'd get a good look at the Moons and see if their attorney was anybody to worry about.

With a heavy sigh, she gave up on the last ten minutes of sleep and headed for the bathroom. She showered, brushed her teeth. As she wiped the condensation from the steamed-up mirror, she caught sight of the narrow white scar that stretched from her left collarbone midway down her chest. It was a lasting reminder of the camping trip from hell, where she'd been abducted by a lunatic trapper named Henry Brank. Had it not been for Mary Crow, she would not have survived it. She would not have lived to marry Charlie, or have two wonderful sons. She would have no law practice, no Little League games to cheer at, no sunsets that looked like all of west Texas had caught on fire. She sighed. All that she owed to Mary Crow.

“So don't fuck this up,” she whispered to her reflection in the mirror. “If you don't win another judgment in your life, you've got to win this one.”

She'd just started to put on her mascara when Cecilia knocked on the door.

“Alex? Sam Hodges is on the phone.”

She pulled on her robe and opened the door. Cecilia stood there in a black yoga outfit, a cell phone in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other. “Which do you want first?” she asked.

“Both.” Alex grabbed the coffee as she pressed the phone against her ear. Sam Hodges was a Tulsa attorney she'd worked with before, and a Cherokee graduate of Oklahoma law. She'd asked him to sit second chair on this, figuring it wouldn't hurt to have a male Cherokee presence on their side of the aisle. Even though today was just a mediation, she felt better with Sam there. “Hey, pardner. What's up?”

“Just wondered if your boy rode into town.”

“Pissed off and ready to rumble.” Alex remembered the flint in Jonathan's eyes, his angry, rigid posture.

“Then I'll put on my war bonnet and meet you in front of the Tahlequah courthouse. Eleven sharp.”

“I appreciate it, Sam,” she said. “We'll see you there.”

She clicked off her phone. As she started to drink the rest of her coffee, she realized that she hadn't spoken with Jonathan this morning. For all she knew he could have gotten up last night and driven over to kill Fred Moon. She re-tied her robe and hurried to knock on his door. To her surprise, she found both Jonathan and Lily already in the sitting room, eating a copious room service breakfast.

“Good morning,” she said, hoping both their moods had improved overnight.

“Morning.” Jonathan wore jeans and a gray T-shirt. He sounded more sleepy than furious—a vast improvement over his storminess yesterday.

Alex grabbed a bagel as she turned to Lily. “How are you doing, sweetheart?”

“Fine,” said Lily. “Daddy let me read my Kindle until eleven o'clock.”

“I take it that's a rare treat?”

She nodded. “Most nights, I have to go to bed at nine.”

“Well, I guess it's special, being in a motel and everything,” said Alex.

“Yeah,” Jonathan muttered. “Real special.”

Alex sighed as she watched his mouth draw downward again. As far as lawsuits were concerned, this was only Jonathan's second rodeo. She needed to remind him of the ground rules. As she spread cream cheese on the bagel, she spoke to them seriously. “We need to leave pretty soon, so let's talk about what's going to happen.”

They both looked up. She addressed Lily first. “Sweetheart, your father and I are going to what they call a mediation. All that means is that we're going to talk things over with your grandparents.”

“And then do I go to Grandpa Moon's?”

“No. You're going to stay here and hang out with Cecilia.”

Lily frowned, her expression mirroring her father's. At first Alex was afraid she might insist on going with them, but after a long moment, she asked, “Can we go swimming again?”

“You sure can. Cecilia also has a car and knows where there's a mall.”

“Cool,” said Lily, apparently satisfied with her options for the day.

Alex then turned to Jonathan. “We're scheduled to start at eleven, so we'll need to leave here in half an hour. We can go in my car.”

“I'll be ready.” He looked at her without blinking, his tone somewhere between a promise and a threat.

She returned to her room, went over her notes as she dressed, then it was time to go. She grabbed her briefcase and went into the sitting room. Jonathan stood alone, looking out the window. In a dark suit and silver-gray tie, he looked more New York than North Carolina.
Mary must have told him to dress up
, Alex thought. On his own, Jonathan would have probably shown up with a gun and a knife.

“Where's Lily?” she asked, hoping they weren't in for a tearful father-daughter farewell.

“Swimming with Cecilia,” he said. “She gets a kick out of pools. We usually just swim in the creek.”

“I'm glad she's having fun,” Alex said. “You look terrific, by the way.”

He grunted. “Wish I felt that way.”

They got in Alex's Jetta and headed southeast on Highway 51. Jonathan sat in the passenger seat like a little boy forbidden to wrinkle his clothes before church. Again she urged him to offer something in the spirit of compromise—summers with the Moons, alternating Christmas vacations, but he refused to budge. All he could talk about was how Fred Moon had destroyed Lily's trust, Lily's relationship with Mary, Lily's once-steady emotional compass. By the time they pulled up at the courthouse, Alex was exhausted.
Thank God I married Charlie
, she thought as she reached for her briefcase. The only things he obsessed over were coffee in the morning and seven-year-old Bryan's potential as a pitcher for the Yankees.

As they headed toward the lawyer's building next to the courthouse, a short man wearing a black-and-white striped turban waved from across the street.

“Who's that?” asked Jonathan, chuckling at the man's outfit.

“Sam Hodges,” Alex replied. “Our second chair.”

“Does he always wear a turban?”

“When he goes to court,” said Alex. “Hey, what's with you guys and turbans, anyway?”

“A bunch of Cherokee chiefs got them when they visited England, back in the 1700s. They liked them so much they came home wearing them.”

Alex laughed. “And you've worn them ever since?”

“Some do,” said Jonathan. “I don't.”

They crossed the street. The two men shook hands, greeting each other in Tsalagi.

“There's one little wrinkle.” Sam turned to Alex. “The second meeting room's not available, so we'll have to do this at one big table.”

“Hmmm,” Alex shot a look at Hodges. “That might present some problems.”

“You want me to reschedule?”

“No, we're already here.” She turned to Jonathan. “Look, we're going to have to do this in the same room with the Moons. That means you've got to remain calm. No histrionics, no threats. We'll hear them out, they'll hear us out. If we're lucky, we might find some common ground.”

He looked at her with hard eyes. “I've told you, Alex. The only common ground between me and Fred Moon is Lily. And she's not up for negotiation.”

Alex shot Sam a look, then they all went up to the second-floor office of one Laura S. Bagwell, a skinny, weak-chinned young woman who looked like a malevolent rabbit. Though she called Sam “Steve” and her “Mrs. Carver,” Alex noted with amusement that Laura S. Bagwell was absolutely clear on Jonathan's name.

“We're so glad that you agreed to this meeting, Mr. Walkingstick,” she said, smiling up at Lily's father. “We always prefer to avoid court when there's a child involved.”

Jonathan shot her a look that could have turned her into roast rabbit.

“Are your clients ready to start?” asked Alex, noticing the sheen of sweat on Laura S. Bagwell's forehead.

“Absolutely.” She led them into a conference room lined with law books. At one end of a long polished table sat the Moons. By Jonathan's account, Alex expected to see a man in a wife beater T-shirt, a woman in flip-flops and too-tight jeans. Instead, she found a chubby,
dark-haired couple who sat like a solemn pair of salt-and-pepper shakers. Like Jonathan, they'd come in their Sunday best—a dandruff-speckled navy blazer for Fred while Dulcy wore a pale yellow pantsuit. Alex noted that the resemblance between Fred Moon and Lily was striking—both had broad Cherokee faces, with lively, wide-set eyes. The couple nodded politely as Laura S. Bagwell made the introductions.

“As I said, Mr. Walkingstick, we appreciate your coming.” She took a seat between the two Moons. “We don't want to go to court any more than you do.”

Alex smiled as she sat down next to Jonathan, knowing they would have a few more moments of genteel, kissy-face time before the gloves came off. “Since Mr. Walkingstick has traveled halfway across the country in an effort to get this settled, why don't you tell us exactly what the problem is. It seems to us that Mr. Walkingstick has complied fully with the family court decree in Pisgah County, North Carolina, dated 15 October of last year.”

“He certainly has, Mrs. Carver,” said Laura S. Bagwell. “But as our complaint states, we are gravely concerned over the propriety of having Ruth Moon's killer raising Ruth Moon's child.”

“She didn't kill her and you know it,” Jonathan glared at Fred Moon.

Gently, Alex shushed him. “I take it you're referring to Mary Crow?”

“Yes,” Ms. Bagwell replied as both Moons nodded like bobble-head dolls. “We cited her in our complaint several times.”

“Then let me remind you that Mary Crow was never charged in Ruth Moon's death. She was fully exonerated by the Deckard County police department, which determined it to be a case of self-defense.” Alex pulled the official police report from her briefcase and handed it to Laura S. Bagwell.

Bagwell took the papers with an indulgent smile. “Yes, but we also know that Mary Crow had been a long-time prosecutor in Deckard County. Their star prosecutor, according to the local newspaper. The police are known for protecting their own, Mrs. Carver. They would be unlikely to indict their prize attorney. ”

“Especially if she wasn't guilty,” said Jonathan. “They knew that and so do you.”

“We don't know that.” Fred Moon spoke for the first time. For a small man he had an amazingly deep voice. “Mary Crow had lots of friends in Atlanta. Ruth only had you.”

Jonathan's voice grew louder. “Yeah. And after she poisoned me, she tried to kill Mary!”

“Let's not open old wounds!” Laura Bagwell cried, trying to drown out Jonathan's voice. “All my clients want is for their grandchild to be raised in a loving environment.”

Jonathan leaned forward. “And what the hell makes you think she hasn't been?”

Alex squeezed Jonathan's arm harder. She knew if she didn't get a handle on him, this could go downhill fast. “Ms. Bagwell, Lily Bird Walkingstick lives in a lovely home, attends the Cherokee United Methodist Church, and maintains a straight A average at John Ross Elementary School.” Alex gave Laura Bagwell a shrug. “I don't know how much family law you've practiced, but that does not connote a child being raised in a non-loving environment.”

“If you love her so, then why is she scared?” Fred Moon lifted a crooked, tobacco-stained finger at Jonathan. “Why have you lied to her? Why do you keep living with the woman who killed her mother?”

Jonathan leapt from his chair before Alex could blink. In a heartbeat he was at the other end of the table, clutching Fred Moon by the lapels of his jacket. “Mary Crow did not kill your daughter!” He started to shake Fred Moon like a rag doll. Dulcy Moon bolted from her chair. “Lily was not afraid of anything until she spent a month with you.”

Jonathan was lifting his fist to strike Fred Moon when Sam Hodges tackled him from behind, grabbing his arm at the very last moment.

“
Hahlee waysta
!” cried Hodges. “You can't do that in here!”

“I don't know why not.” Jonathan shrugged Hodges off. “This bastard's filled my little girl's head with so much garbage she might never get over it.”

“Gentlemen!” Laura Bagwell leapt to her feet. “This is a med-
iation—”

“Oh, yeah?” Jonathan dropped Fred Moon and turned blazing eyes on Bagwell. “Then mediate this, sister. Before Lily came to Oklahoma, she was happy. She loved me, she loved her home, she especially loved Mary.” He turned and pointed a finger in Fred Moon's face. “Now all that's gone. You and your damn lies took all that away.”