Unexpected Dismounts (27 page)

“Popping my cork,’” I said. “I like you, Nicholas.”

“Yeah, well, listen, I’ll keep you posted.”

Bless his heart. He was probably one big freckle by now.

Just as I was headed for Desmond’s room to wake him up for school, the phone rang again. It was Vickie Rodriguez this time.

“I hope you’re calling to tell me Priscilla Sanborn has gone back to Africa,” I said.

“No, I called to tell you that you need to bring Desmond to the meeting this morning.”

I stopped, my hand ready to tap on Desmond’s door. “
Now
who’s being blindsided.”

“I just found out myself. Her lawyer called and said she wants to see him in person.”

“What hasn’t she seen? She’s been spying on him for weeks.”

I heard Vickie take a deep breath. I couldn’t be a terribly easy client for the poor woman.

“Okay, we’ll be there,” I said. “I just wish I had more time to prepare him.”

“We could set up another meeting to do this, but I’m not thinking we want to face this woman any more than we have to.”

I took solace in the fact that Vickie seemed to share my opinion of Miss Prissy. Still, before I woke Desmond, I called Chief, just to hear his voice.

“I hate that I can’t be there,” he said. “But Kade told me you had a good session yesterday. He’s ready.”

“I’m not sure I am,” I said.

Desmond, on the other hand, was surprisingly cavalier at the prospect of coming face-to-face with his aunt.

“She can’t take me, so I ain’t worried,” he said for about the third time when we were crossing the parking lot to the FIP building. “I know how to handle her.”

I stopped him on the sidewalk. “I want you to be yourself at this meeting,” I said. “But both of us are going to have to hold back on telling Priscilla what we think of her. As in, no insults, no ‘you left me puking on myself’—none of that. We have a new lawyer. He works for Chief so it’s like having Chief there, and we need to let him do most of the talking unless somebody asks us a question. Can you handle that?”

“Ain’t nobody like having Chief there,” he said. “Just so you know.”

Desmond bore that opinion out when we met Kade in the lobby. I thought Kade looked older than his years, and capable, and a whole lot calmer than I was, but Desmond pulled back from him as if Kade were carrying a sign saying, “Don’t trust me. I’m bad news.”

It wasn’t lost on Kade.

“I know I’m not Chief,” he said, “but I’m here to help.”

“Can I see some ID?”

“Desmond!” I said.

But Kade was already digging in his pocket. “Not a problem. I like a client who’s cautious.”

He pulled out his wallet and presented his driver’s license to Desmond, who studied it like he worked for Homeland Security. I didn’t know whether he was satisfied or not when he handed it back to Kade.

“Are we good?” I said to him.

Desmond closed one eye. “
You
cool with him?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I guess itta be a’ight. I got to use the restroom.”

I pointed the way and turned to Kade. He was wiping a grin from his face with his hand.

“Sorry about that,” I said.

“No, it’s fine. He definitely trusts you. I think the jury’s still out on me.”

He seemed young again, so young I had to say, “He does trust me, so don’t mess this up.”

When the three of us entered Vickie’s office, Priscilla Sanborn was already there with her lawyer, a Mr. Quillon. Older man. Balding with dignity. Wearing a suit that was worth more than my entire wardrobe. What did this woman
do
in Africa? Mine diamonds?

The question sent me into a mental tailspin. What if the judge decided she would be the better mother because she could afford to give Desmond more than I could?

“Relax,” Kade whispered to me.

I rubbed my palms on my thighs and turned my attention to Desmond. He was already chatting it up with Vickie Rodriguez, personality seeping from every pore.

“This a
nice
office,” he said. “You got you some good taste.”

“Thank you,” she said. I was grateful for the absence of isn’t-that-cute in her expression.

“Sorry I’m late,” Liz Doyle said as she burst in, eyelids batting.

Desmond was on her in a heartbeat, arms around her, kissing her resoundingly on the cheek.

“Are you behaving?” she said to him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Desmond. Aren’t you going to speak to me?”

I watched Desmond’s backbone straighten as if each vertebra were a Lego being stacked on the one below it. When he turned to face his aunt, his eyes were so blank I shivered. “Whachoo want me to say?”

“We could start with hello. And a hug.”

“Hello,” he said. The request for a hug went unrequited.

“I think we can get started,” Vickie said.

“Lemme start.” Desmond pulled out the chair across the table from his aunt, sat himself down, and folded his hands so close to the way Hank did I felt a pang. “You don’t want me,” he said to her.

“Of course I want you.” Her voice was so condescending, it set my teeth on edge.

“No,” Desmond said, “you jus’ think you want me. But you don’t know me. I’d be way too much trouble for you, I can tell that by the fancy way you dressed and the way you holdin’ your chin.” He leaned into the table. “Only people can handle me is Big Al and Mr. Chief. And Miss Hankenstein, and Mercedes-Benz. I got way more people here can handle me than you even
know.
I am doin’ you a favor tellin’ you this, so you don’t got to go to all this trouble.” He took a breath and smiled up at Vickie. “We done, then?”

She smiled back at him. “You are,” she said. “That was a huge help, Desmond. I’m going to have Miss Doyle take you on to school.”

“If you need me, you know where to find me.” He followed Liz happily to the door and turned back to Priscilla. “Have you a good
trip back to wherever it was you went to when you lef’ me and my mama in the street. I bet it’s way nicer there.”

All the air went out of the room as he and Liz exited. She put her head back in.

“Yes?” Vickie said.

“Before I go, as the foster care manager for the county, I am
not
recommending that Desmond be placed into foster care between now and the hearing.”

“Was that even a possibility?” I said.

“That would be news to me,” Kade said.

Vickie shook her head. “Although Ms. Sanborn suggested that, I never seriously considered it. Desmond is obviously in good care and in no danger right where he is.”

Liz bugged her eyes at me and left. Priscilla Sanborn barely waited for the door to close before she said, “He most certainly is in danger—of never being able to speak like a normal human being. Did you hear the grammar?”

“Four months ago he would have been dropping F-bombs in here,” I said. “It’s all relative, ma’am.” I covered a smile with my hand as I realized for the first time that Desmond was right. She did draw in fake eyebrows with a pencil.

“All right.” Vickie pressed her hands together. “Ms. Sanborn, you have seen your nephew, and despite any reservations you may have about his verbal skills, you now know that he is in good health, he’s obviously self-assured, and he knows that he’s loved.”

“He knows he’s indulged,” Priscilla said.

I opened my mouth, but Vickie shot me a warning look. “Our concern is in determining what is best for Desmond.”

“If I may,” Kade said.

“Please.”

“According to a ruling by Judge Baker on December twenty-sixth of last year, what is best for Desmond has already been determined. That decision was arrived at not only with the information that my client had already been caring for him for several months, but by the legal document signed by his mother giving custody to Ms. Chamberlain in the event of her death.

“And if
I
may,” Mr. Quillon said.

He sounded so like my father I cringed. Even though he was at least twenty years younger, he was of the same vintage. He’d definitely been trained to be Southern gentleman on the outside, serial opportunist on the inside.

“The boy’s mother”—pronounced
mu-thah
—“was a known drug addict. We can’t be sure she was even in her right mind when she agreed to that.”

“She didn’t agree to it,” Kade said. “She initiated it. And she’d been clean for months at that point.”

“I’m sorry, son,” Mr. Quillon said, making a show of flipping through his papers. “I’ve been remiss. I don’t seem to have the document that says a drug test was administered that day.”

I was sure they could all hear my teeth grinding.

“There’s no way of proving that either way,” Kade said smoothly. “The point is that Miss Chamberlain has already shown herself to be a more-than-adequate mother to Desmond, and a judge has agreed. Only under very unusual circumstances is His Honor going to overturn a ruling.”

“You know, I’m glad you used that phrase,
unusual circumstances,
because that is just what we have here.”

“And those would be?”

Mr. Quillon smiled, showing a neat fence of capped teeth. I’d seen smiles like that when I was growing up, smiles put on when there was really nothing to smile about.

“Harvard Law, was it, Kade? May I call you Kade?

“You can call me whatever you want if you’ll get to the point, Clyde.”

I cringed again. I was right there with Kade, but Chief hadn’t coached him in the finer points of plastic Southern etiquette. “There” wasn’t a place you wanted to take a hometown boy like Quillon.

Mr. Q. gave a laugh that matched his nonsmile. “You’re a Yankee for sure, aren’t you? That’s a sly Harvard Law tactic, trying to tease our case out of me before we get into the courtroom.”

“Clyde, please, the point?”

Oh, dear. It was all I could do not to get Chief on the phone.

“The point. The point is that those unusual circumstances are exactly what we are going to bring before the judge.”

“You seriously intend to put your client through that,” Kade said.

I glanced at Priscilla, but she seemed unconcerned about being put through anything. Her face was a complete blank, until she caught me watching her. Even then she only stiffened and refused to meet my eyes again.

“It’s your client I’m concerned about.” Mr. Quillon gave me a paternal look. “Little lady, I knew your daddy.”

There were so many retorts I wanted to throw at him like darts, starting with
Dude, I am neither little, nor a lady,
but I had to undo the damage Kade didn’t even know he’d done. I left all the sarcastic possibilities in the quiver and said, “Did you, now? You couldn’t have been more than a boy when he passed away.”

“I had just graduated from Stetson Law,” he said. “You familiar with that school, Kade?”

“Yeah. Great school. Look, I’m sure your résumé is stellar, but I don’t see what this has to do with the case at hand.”

Mr. Quillon winked at me. “They’re always in a hurry up there north of the Mason-Dixon, aren’t they?”

“Now we’re revisiting the Civil War.” Kade looked imploringly at Vickie.

“Mr. Quillon, we really do need to wrap this up.”

“That’s is exactly what I’m trying to do.” Quillon stopped grinning and let his eyes sadden dramatically at me. “The only thing I wanted to do when I passed the bar was work for Chamberlain Enterprises. I had an interview scheduled with your father for the day after he was murdered. I didn’t have the heart after that. I opened my own firm, been very successful, but I never got over it. Did you?”

“Ms. Rodriguez is right, Clyde,” I said, voice stony. “You need to wrap this up.”

The Southern smooth slid from his face and left his eyes cold and his mouth hard. “We goin’ to trial, Miss Allison. Mr. Capelli, if I were you, I would advise my client to drop this case, because I am going to hate humiliating her.”

“Mr. Quillon, there will be no threats here.” The vein in Vickie’s forehead was throbbing.

“Oh, that is not a threat,
Señorita.
That is a promise.”

“Enough.” Vickie stood up and made no attempt to slow her breathing. “The hearing will take place as scheduled on Thursday, April fifth. You will both have an opportunity to present your arguments and provide witnesses. But I warn you: Judge Atwell will not tolerate attempts at intimidation. Watch yourself, Mr. Quillon.”

He gave her the smile. “No bias here, I see. That’s why we’re going to court. We will see you all there.”

Kade and I were the first ones out. I was afraid if I stayed any longer I’d wind up sharing a cell with Zelda.

“That went well,” Kade said when we were safely entombed in the elevator. “How does he get away with that?”

“It’s the South,” I said. “And he’s a good ol’ boy in a designer suit. I’m sorry nobody told you they play by different rules down here.”

“They play dirty.” Kade rubbed the back of his neck. “I hate to do this to you, but if you have any skeletons in your closet, you need to tell me about them now because I guarantee you they’re going to come up in court and I need to be ready to deflect them.” The doors sighed open and he put his hand on my back to usher me out, mind obviously still going like an Intel processor. “If you’ve got any dirt on her, I need that too.”