Shadow of Doubt (A Kali O'Brien legal mystery) (5 page)

Ken gave one of those nondescript murmurs he’s so good at. “Well, it’s not your problem in any case.”

“Jannine is my friend.”

“She may also be a killer.” His tone was gentle still, but the tenderness had given way to the weight of logic. “You haven’t seen her in what, five years? You don’t have the slightest idea what’s been going on in her life.” He paused to let the point sink in, then added, with just a hint of reproachful, “Remember what happened when you got involved in Mary Ellen’s divorce?”

That was something I would rather not have remembered. My young secretary had been emotionally wrung out from dealing with a manipulative husband and a divorce attorney who gave his client about as much compassion as a shark moving in for the kill. I offered a shoulder to cry on and as much moral support as I could muster.

How was I to know that the sweet little thing who so willingly brought me coffee each morning had spent the previous twelve months systematically cleaning out her husband’s savings accounts and carrying on a torrid affair with his best friend? One afternoon the husband came looking for her — with a knife. When he discovered she was gone from the office, he went after me instead. Who knows what might have happened if the UPS delivery man, who happened to also be a karate instructor, hadn’t happened by just then?

“This is different,” I told Ken. “I’ve known Jannine for my whole life practically. She’s the kindest person on earth. She is simply not capable of killing anyone.”

He sighed. “Well, there’s nothing you can do, so don’t waste energy worrying about it.”

His attitude irritated me, although he was right about the last part; there wasn’t a whole lot I could do. “How was the partners’ retreat?” I asked, looking to change the subject.

Ken made a sound, a kind of verbal shrug. “You know how those affairs are, ‘work and pleasure’ usually translates into all work.”

In fact, I knew only by proxy. Associates, even those approaching partnership, were not part of the firm’s inner workings. “And?” I asked pointedly, after a moment’s silence.

Ken gave a kind of half laugh. “Latham will give you your review when you get back.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning he’s your supervising partner, not me.” There was something in his tone which added to my irritation. “I thought you were my partner in other ways,” I said. The ways that counted most.

There was a pause, followed by an audible sigh. “Generally the comments were favorable, though a few people expressed concern about the amount of pro bono work and underbilled time you accrue.” That was nothing novel, and I knew exactly who those “few people” were. “And then there was that run-in you had with Heritage Development which, I might remind you, is one of our bigger clients.”

“But what they were doing was illegal!”

“Shady, maybe.”

I let it drop; we’d argued this issue enough already. “So what are you trying to tell me, that I didn’t get jumped ahead to partner?” I hadn’t really expected it anyway. “That’s okay. At least now I’m a level six.”

Ken was silent.

My heart skipped a beat. “Aren’t I?” More silence. “Are you telling me I’m no longer on track for partner?”

He hesitated. “No one is at the moment.”

There’d been an outside chance I’d make partner a year early; I’d been hopeful but not overly optimistic. Instead, I’d been whacked clear out of the picture.

“It’s been a tight year,” Ken explained. “A tight couple of years in fact. Profits are way down. There’s no way we can justify bringing in more partners. Not in the foreseeable future at any rate.”

“But I’ve worked hard, done a good job. I got a commendation last year.”

“It’s not personal, you know. The partners’ draws are way down, too.”

As if that was any consolation.

“I knew this would upset you. That’s why I didn’t want to get into it just now.” His voice softened. “I’m sorry, Kal, I know how disappointed you must be.”

Disappointed wasn’t the half of it.

“Why don’t you come on home next weekend, even if you haven’t finished things off up there. We’ll go out for an evening on the town, anywhere you’d like, get your mind off all this job stuff.”

The idea had some appeal, but I was afraid if I went home I might never make it back to Silver Creek. Besides, I was feeling notably slighted by both the firm and Ken —
 
hell, by life itself. And there was no way a nice meal could make up for it.

“I’d better stay here and try to wind things up,” I told him.

“Well, it’s your call. If you change your mind let me know.”

I hung up with a heavy click, but Ken had beaten me to it My frustration fell on deaf ears.

The Goodwill boxes beckoned, but I was not in the mood. Giving up all pretense of productive activity, I poured myself a glass of wine and turned on the television. Loretta ambled into the room and plopped down at my feet. The leftover hamburger I’d brought home from lunch had won her affections. Not that I was looking. I couldn’t understand why my father had decided to get himself a dog in the first place. And I didn’t know what in the world I was going to do with her now that he was gone.

Sabrina had been my first thought, but as it turned out, her affection for living creatures was rather closely tied to their pedigrees. I don’t care much about pedigrees myself, but I didn’t have much use for four-legged creatures, either. I figured I’d probably have to run an ad in the paper. Maybe I’d throw her in with the truck or the Skill- saw I had to get rid. Package deal.

I was well into a
Star Trek
re-run when the telephone rang again. I harbored a fleeting hope it was Ken, who had discovered, upon hanging up, how much he actually missed me.

But it was Nona.

I’d put off calling because I couldn’t decide what to tell her. The little I’d learned was secondhand information, not much better than gossip. I didn’t want to worry her unnecessarily. On the other hand, maybe she had reason to be worried.

“Did you talk to Benson?” Her voice was hushed, as though she were trying not to be overheard.

“He wasn’t in. No one was, in fact.”

“So you didn’t talk to
anyone?”

“I spoke to the secretary, briefly. She wouldn’t give me the time of day.”

Nona let out a sigh. “Then you didn’t learn anything at all?”

There it was. “Nothing substantive,” I hedged. “I don’t think they’ve reached any conclusions just yet.”

Nona’s voice was still faint, but it now had an edge to it. “There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there? Don’t try to keep me in the dark like some addled old lady, Kali. I want to know.”

I’ve never been a good liar, and this hardly seemed the time to hone my skills. I told her about my conversation with the dispatcher. “But that’s only rumor. This woman could be completely wacko. For all I know she might not even work for the police department.”

Nona wasn’t looking for easy assurances. “This is just what I was afraid of. Just what I knew would happen.” Her voice trailed off into a thin whisper.

I felt terrible telling her over the phone. I should have gone there that afternoon, in person, where I could soften the impact with hugs and encouragement. I’d taken the easy way out and Nona was paying.

“Will you help us, Kali? There have be leads the police aren’t following.”

“I really haven’t got”

She interrupted. “Please?”

There was such trepidation in her voice I couldn’t refuse. Besides, I owed Nona and Jannine.
 
Owed them far more than I would ever be able to repay. They’d been there for me when no one else was. They’d seen me through the tumultuous period of my mother’s death, when I’d felt abandoned and unloved and cheated by life itself. They’d been there in the years that followed as well, offering the affection and warmth my father was incapable of. Now it was my turn.

“I doubt there’s much I can do,” I told her, “but if it will make you feel better, I’ll look into it. I can’t make any promises though.”

“No, of course not.” She paused. “But I know you’ll turn up something.”

“I’d like to talk to Jannine again. Do you think she’d be up to seeing me tomorrow?”

“Oh yes, absolutely.” Nona's anxiety had all but vanished.

I wished I could have said the same for my own.

Chapter 4

The hammering and pounding started again early Tuesday morning, but this time I was already awake, having spent the better part of the night stewing about my prospects with the firm and the mess with Jannine. There wasn’t much I could do about the former right then, so I put most of my brooding into figuring out the best way to help Jannine. By morning I’d at least begun to lay out my approach.

One thing law school teaches you is that everything is open to interpretation. What I hoped to do was find some loose ends, raise some additional possibilities. Enough anyway to persuade the police that Jannine wasn’t the only potential suspect. The strategy was something like the way the defense approaches a trial; with enough “what ifs” and “supposes” you can turn a case around. In legal terms it’s called “reasonable doubt.” Not the best defense certainly, but one which is used pretty regularly. It’s much easier, however, if you can keep things from reaching the trial stage in the first place. Easier, and a whole lot less risky.

I had intended to spend a couple hours sorting through my father’s things before my meeting with Jannine, but the morning was so glorious and Loretta’s expression so hopeful, I left the boxes stacked in the hallway and took her for a walk instead.

I told myself the walk was for me, and Loretta was simply free to tag along if she wished. Which she most assuredly did. Then I showered and drove to the bakery, where the gray-haired woman behind the counter looked perplexed when I asked for croissants. Jelly Danish was the closest they came, so I bought half a dozen and headed for Jannine’s.

“What are you trying to do?’’ she asked when I handed her the box. “Make me fatter than I already am?”

“You’re not fat, and what I’m trying to do is offer comfort and support” I gave her a quick hug. “It’s not very effective, is it?”