Burden of Truth (Cass Leary Legal Thriller Series Book 1)

by Robin James

“Miranda, I don’t even know if Aubrey’s still my client. I don’t even know if I want her to be.”

  Miranda raised a skeptical brow. “The hell you don’t. That girl needs you. She needs someone. I know you don’t really believe she killed that man. If the people of this town would just come to their senses, they’d know it too.”

  “Except she just told them all she did. She made it easy.”

  Miranda pointed to the landline conference phone on the table beside me. Line one was blinking. “Take that call. See what he says. Then call your client and figure out what you want to do. You’ve been staring at that table for two days. It’s not helping.”

  “You sound like my mother.” I meant it as a throwaway comment. The moment it was out of my mouth though, my heart clenched. Of all people to say it to, Miranda was one of the last to know if it was actually true.

  “Thanks,” she said softly, smiling. “And come to think of it, that’s what she would say to you if she could. Maybe I just channeled her.”

  “No fair.”

  “Take. The. Call!”

  As Miranda shut the door, I did.

  “Hey, Jack,” I said, wincing.

  “’Bout time you answered your phone, Leary,” he said. So I was Leary now. Did that make me one of the good ole boys?

  “Things have been a little hectic around here,” I lied, hoping he bought it.

  “Yeah. I imagine. Look, I don’t feel like dragging this out any more than you do. And I also don’t feel like kicking someone when they’re down.”

  “How am I the one down, Larry? Your office crapped all over my client’s civil rights.”

  He sighed into the phone. “Yeah, and you and I both know that’s bullshit.”

  “You should have called me the minute you got wind of this. I heard it from my secretary who got it from courtroom gossip. How long did that take to wind its way down Main Street? This is going to blow up on you. As far as I’m concerned, we really don’t have anything to talk about unless you called to tell me you’re going to do the right thing and throw out that coerced confession.”

  I was stretching the truth, I knew. What happened hadn’t really reached the level of coercion, but I was mad as hell.

  “That’s not happening, Leary.”

  “And you can take whatever ridiculous plea deal your boss thinks will cover his ass on this and …”

  “Stop!” he shouted. “Just stop right there. You really think I called to talk about a plea? I called out of professional courtesy and so you wouldn’t do anything like embarrass yourself in court on this one.”

  I felt my ears get hotter by the second.

  “There isn’t going to be a plea deal, Cass. Your client’s admitted guilt. She killed someone most people in this town consider a goddamn saint. Take it to trial if you want, but you know you’ll lose. She’s going to get life in prison. Full stop.”

  “Thanks, Jack. Good talk.”

  Miranda came to the door. She leaned against the doorframe and made a slashing gesture across her throat. Then she pointed behind her. I had no appointments, but there was someone out there she wanted me to know about.

  “We done?” Jack asked.

  “Yeah. We’re done.”

  I hung up the phone.

  “Sorry,” Miranda said. “I knew that was going to be painful. There’s someone out here who needs to talk to you. She doesn’t have an appointment but I figured you’d want to give her a few minutes, all things considered. I’ll set her up in your office.”

  I rose to my feet and stepped around the conference table. Kaitlyn Taylor sat in the waiting room just behind Miranda’s shoulder.

  “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Mir.”

  I could still feel my heart thundering in my ears as I grabbed a pad of paper and headed into my office. Miranda stood with a smile halfway out the door.

  “Thanks,” I said again. Without a word, Miranda reached for Kaitlyn and rubbed her shoulder before leaving the two of us alone.

  “Sit down,” I said, finding my own chair behind my desk. “What’s on your mind, Kaitlyn?”

  Kaitlyn wouldn’t sit. She stood chewing her thumbnail. She had on a DHS Shamrocks hoodie and ripped jeans today. With her hair in two braids, she looked more like twelve than twenty.

  “You have to do something,” she said, her voice cracking.

  “About what?”

  “About Aubrey! You have to help her.”

  I let out a sigh. “She’s making that pretty difficult, Kaitlyn, and you know there isn’t much I can discuss with you about any of it. She’s still my client ... I think.”

  “Yeah. Yeah. I get all that. Look, Aubrey’s an idiot. But she’s not stupid, you know what I mean?”

  I folded my hands and rested them on my desk. “At the moment, I really don’t.”

  “She didn’t do this! She didn’t kill Coach D. I don’t know why she’s saying it. You have to talk to her. Alone. And don’t let her blow you off. I really think if you could just get her here and, you know ... be really gentle with her. She needs to know you’re her friend. She needs to trust you.”

  “She’s not my friend, Kaitlyn. It doesn’t work like that. But I know she’s your friend. So be one. She’s in trouble. Big, serious trouble. If you know something, if you can help her, you have to do it. Now’s the time. Hell ... now is about two days past the time.”

  Kaitlyn finally sat. Her brow knit in deep, roping lines. I’d thought she looked twelve when she first came in. Now she looked eighty. Tears played at the corners of her eyes.

  “You have to talk to her again,” she whispered. “Please.”

  “What is it you think she needs to tell me?”

  “Everything. She needs to tell you everything.”

  “Kaitlyn, no more games. You’re on the prosecution’s witness list. Whatever you know, I need to know. If this case goes to trial, you’re going to have to testify. Under oath. If you really and truly want to help your friend, I need to know everything that you do before you get up there.”

  She broke. Kaitlyn drew into herself in much the same way I’d seen Aubrey do more than once. She was a little girl again in the space of a second. Whatever secret she carried inside her was torturing her.

  “Why don’t you already know?” she asked. “I mean, you ... of all people. When I found out who you were. Who your family is. I mean ... you’re one of us.”

  Her words shook me. “My family? What about my family?”

  She wouldn’t meet my eyes. Tears rolled down Kaitlyn’s cheeks and she shifted her focus to a spot on the floor. “I just mean ... they’ve always treated everybody who lives east of the lake like dirt, you know? Like it matters. There are just as many trailer parks on the west side. More, actually. I counted once.”

  “Really?” My whole life I’d never once even thought of that.

  “Aubrey just needs ... I don’t know ... like ... a champion. Nobody’s ever believed in her. People make assumptions over things that aren’t her fault.”

  “What about her parents? She’s got a solid family, hasn’t she?”

  Even as I said it, the scene from my driveway the other day replayed in my head. Dan Ames was scared to death. On the one hand, I knew he wanted to protect his daughter. On the other, I had sensed rage in him that seemed, I don’t know, more deep-seated than just the events of the last few weeks. But it was so hard to know. These weren’t ordinary events. Then there was her younger brother. The day I met him, he’d whispered that odd statement about how Aubrey would end up paying for what she did.

  “Her mom’s cool,” Kaitlyn answered. “A pushover. But she doesn’t really like to rock the boat, you know. And her dad ... well … you’ve met him. Still, he’s a prince compared to my dad. I know I shouldn’t say this, but ... ugh ... my dad’s drunk more than he isn’t. You know?”

  I tilted my head to the side. I felt my lips draw together in a line. “Yes. I know.”

  Shared pain flashed in Kaitlyn’s eyes. Of course, she p
robably didn’t really know about my own demons. She would have heard plenty of rumors. But it was enough to tell her her instincts were right. I just hoped it would be enough to get her to open up all the way.

  “This secret you have,” I said. “Kaitlyn, it’s poisoning you. I can see it. It probably feels manageable now. And maybe it is something you can carry even for years. But if it’s about Aubrey ... if it’s something that can help her now, it won’t do her any good in a few years, will it?”

  Kaitlyn shook her head. She straightened her shoulders and I knew I’d already lost her. That small moment she felt connected to me had been enough to give her strength she hadn’t walked in with. She was about to walk out with it though.

  “It’s not like that for every secret, Miss Leary. Sometimes the truth is much, much worse.”

  “Kaitlyn …”

  But she was already on her feet and headed for the door. She turned back as she opened it. “Just ... talk to her. Give her one more chance. If you don’t, nobody will. It’ll be just like she said, after all.”

  “Said about what?”

  Kaitlyn didn’t answer. Instead, she just left my office and closed the door behind her.

  “Dammit!” I sat back hard in my chair. I’d had my fill of cryptic teenagers for one day. I grabbed my messenger bag and went out to the lobby. Miranda had her own office just off the waiting room. A glass partition separated her from incoming clients.

  “I think I’m over it for today,” I said. “I need sleep. I need to breathe in some lake air and watch the sunset. Tomorrow, I gotta figure out if I still have a practice worth saving.”

  Miranda came out from behind her desk and slid open the glass partition. Then she wrapped her arms around me. I needed that hug more than I wanted to admit.

  “That’s a great idea,” she said. “Things never look so dire the next day. Trust me. It’s a rule.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Miranda always kept fresh flowers on her desk. Her husband sent them once a week and had since the day they married thirty-seven years ago. I leaned down and smelled them. This week he sent white and pink roses.

  As I rose, I noticed a thin, shiny green book on the edge of her desk. It had gold embossed lettering. I picked it up.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “I was about to ask you.” I fingered the binding. It was a Delphi High School Yearbook from three years ago.

  “Did Kaitlyn drop this off?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I can’t imagine. I didn’t bring her through this way. I’ve never seen that before. I swear it wasn’t there an hour ago.”

  There was no note. I flipped through the pages. One small scrap of white paper slid out. It was a Post-it note but the glue backing hadn’t stuck. There was no writing on it except for a small arrow in blue ballpoint ink. Unfortunately, now there was no way to know what it had been pointing to.

  Adrenaline shot through me. I glanced at Miranda.

  “Go! Maybe you can still catch her!”

  I ran through the front door, but Kaitlyn Taylor had already pulled out of the parking lot, her tires squealing as she hit the gas.

  Chapter 13

  At ten o’clock two mornings later, I found myself walking into the one place I promised I wouldn’t enter when I came back to town. The Maple Valley Rehabilitation Center. Built just four years ago, it was a high-end nursing care center. I found the reason for my oath in room 214 recovering from her third of a six-round chemo treatment.

  “Son of a bitch,” Jeanie Mills sighed as I walked into her room. I suppose I should have called. But I knew damn well she’d find a way to guilt me into not coming.

  In her prime, Jeanie’s appearance made most people do a double take. She’d been about four foot nine inches both tall and wide with true black hair cropped short, her bangs cut straight across her brow. Save for one black streak near her forehead, Jeanie’s hair had gone completely white. Not even the chemo had affected that. Jeanie was battling stage two breast cancer.

  “Hey, yourself,” I smiled. My heart lifted as she gave me that laser stare from clear, blue eyes. Jeanie was down, but never out. Though, at seventy, there may soon come a point where even her brand of toughness would give out.

  I grabbed a chair from the corner of the room and slid it next to Jeanie’s bed. She erupted into a wracking cough, but soon recovered. I reached for her, putting my hand over hers. She’d lost weight. Her crepe-paper skin hung from her wrists and her normally round cheeks had hollowed.

  “Should have known I couldn’t trust you to do the one thing I told you not to, Cassiopeia. I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

  I leaned over the bed and drew her into a hug. The hell with it all. “I tried. But I missed you. You can’t fault me for that.” I helped Jeanie adjust a large pink crocheted blanket around her legs.

  “Fine,” she said. “But don’t you dare ask me how the fuck I’m feeling. And I’ll kill ya if you offer to pray for me.”

  This got a deep belly laugh from me. “I told you. I missed you.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m not an idiot. I’ve been watching the news. I was expecting you to show up here about a week or so ago. What the hell happened, kiddo?”

  I set my messenger bag on the floor. The Delphi yearbook poked out of the side compartment and I pulled it out.

  “Well, let me first ask you this. You been paying your bar dues?”

  Jeanie moved to adjust the pillow behind her. I reached over and helped. She shot me a withering glance so I sat back down.

  “Yeah,” she answered. “Extortion is what that is.”

  I had a fifty-dollar bill folded in the pocket of my blazer. I took it out and pinned it to the corkboard over Jeanie’s left shoulder, right next to a couple of get well cards and her menu.

  “Now that that’s out of the way,” I said. “You’re officially of counsel.”

  “Sheeit. I wouldn’t lower myself.”

  “Oh, yes you would.”

  Jeanie Mills was a pioneer in this county. She’d formed the first all-female law firm not long after she got her license. Jeanie focused on family law matters. And she was a bulldog. In those first few years after we lost my mother, it was Jeanie who’d kept my younger siblings out of foster care when my father couldn’t or wouldn’t step up. She was also the main reason I decided to become a lawyer.

  “First things first,” she said. “I want to hear about you. The truth. I’ve heard enough rumors over the last few months. And I know better than to believe most of them.”

  I flapped my hands in defeat and crossed my leg at the ankle. “I’m pretty sure you can fill in the blanks yourself. I’ve committed the cardinal sin of trying to practice law ... or do anything in this town with the last name of Leary.”

  Jeanie sank back against her pillows. Her right hand twitched and she kneaded a loose yarn on her blanket. She was itching for the cigarette she usually held there.

  “So, you’re going to be that way,” she said. “Cut the crap, Cass. You know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s not your name that’s the problem. What the hell are you doing back here?”

  I had a pat answer to that question for everyone. One look from Jeanie and I knew she’d never buy it. Hell. I knew that was the real reason I hadn’t come to visit her sooner. Sure, she’d made me promise not to. But that had just been convenient for me.

  “It’s a funny thing when you sell your soul to the devil,” I said, staring at a point on the wall. “Everyone thinks they’ll be able to outsmart him when he comes to collect.”

  There was dead silence between us. Jeanie’s face softened into a smile. She reached for me, gathering my hands in hers. “Aw, honey. I’d say you still have your soul.”

  I wouldn’t do this. I would not cry in front of her. I came here for her help, but not with this.

  “So,” she said. “The rumors are true then. The Thorne Group really is into some shady shit. Didn’t I tell you their offer was too
good to be true ten years ago?”

  “Jeanie ... I can’t …”

  She put a hand up. “You don’t have to say a word. I can pretty much guess. The world’s not that big and I still have some law enforcement contacts in wider circles than just Delphi. What I can’t figure out is how you didn’t end up in witsec?”

  I couldn’t breathe. Jeanie knew me too damn well. I trusted her with my life and on more than one occasion, my brothers and sister’s lives. But I couldn’t trust her with this. If I let this go on too long, she’d figure it out all by herself and I couldn’t live with myself if my demons came back to hurt her.

  “Hmm,” she said, settling back. “You’ve got a friend in high places, then.”

  “Let’s not,” I said, but as I closed my eyes to exhale, Killian Thorne’s deep blue eyes swam in front of me.

  “Fine.” She doubled over, struck by another coughing fit. I reached for the pitcher of water on the table beside her. Jeanie put up her hand.

  “Not that. God, I’m so sick of ice water. I don’t suppose you’ve got beer in that giant bag of yours?”

  “No such luck. I saw a vending machine down the hall. How about a pop?”

  Jeanie gave me a snarling smile. “As long as it’s not diet.”

  “You got it. Fully leaded. I’ll be right back.”

  I was grateful for the respite from Jeanie’s blistering cross-examination. The woman had a way of getting me to confide just about everything in her. And she’d saved my life in more ways than one from the time I was thirteen on. I gave her a peck on the cheek and headed down the hall.

  Maple Valley was one of the “nice ones” as far as facilities like this went. Clean. Cheery, with colorful artwork on the walls and big, open hallways. Whatever they’d done to soundproof this wing was working. I felt reasonably confident Jeanie would be able to get a nap uninterrupted by voices and the constant hum of ventilators and other medical machines.

  I found the vending machine and worked on straightening the dollar I’d brought with me. I’d walked out of Jeanie’s room with the yearbook still tucked under my arm. I balanced it and fed the bill into the machine. It spit right back out. I smoothed it even more and tried again.