That La Jolla Lawyer

by Robert Rogers

  Carter’s tickler kept him awake for a time, but he finally drifted off to sleep.

  *****

  Matt was up early, waiting for his investigator. The aches and pains from his beating were almost gone. And, most of the cuts had healed to the point that no bandages or band aids were needed.

  Carter was knocking at the front door before he’d had his first cup of coffee. “Come in,” he shouted. “Door’s open.”

  “Need a cup of that,” Carter said, pointing at Matt’s machine. “Strong. Didn’t hit the sack until after one.” He moved in that direction.

  “Hell, I couldn’t sleep for thinking about what you said. So, fire away. In flagrante delicto?”

  Carter poured himself a cup and sat down. Cat walked into the room, looked at Carter, meowed and walked away. His broken tail wagging awkwardly behind him.

  “He’s getting used to you,” Matt said.

  “Thank goodness. Okay, I’m firing. I verified the fundraising date from the log book at headquarters. I called the hotel and asked which bellboys — my name for the night duty personnel— were on duty that night. I claimed to have been with the congressman’s party and apparently lost my cell phone someplace. I gave some Mickey Mouse excuse for not having called sooner.”

  Matt smiled. “You were always good with Mickey Mouse excuses.”

  “Learned how, working for you. Anyway, once I got a name, I talked to the guy, apologized for having bothered them because I had found my phone. However, I was going to be in San Fran later on and would like to buy him dinner. I wanted to thank him for his work on our behalf during the fundraiser. He agreed. Probably figured I was gay, looking for a hit. I met him at Tadich’s a few

  minutes past eight. They were still serving.”

  “Great place. Hasn’t changed a bit over the years.”

  “I think he was impressed. We had a couple of drinks.

  Loosed him up some. I think he was on his guard when he walked in.” Carter said with a casual shrug.

  “Okay, Carter. You’re good. I know that. What about the in flagrante delicto? It kept me awake half the night.”

  “Don’t get your bowels in an uproar, Matt. Here it is. On the night in question, after the speech and dinner and the glad-handing and picture taking afterward with the high dollar donors, the congressman retired to his room. Now usually, his wife, Marcia – you know she’s a doctor in Carlsbad?”

  Matt shook his head. “I think I knew that.”

  “Well, ordinarily, she never goes on Reid’s campaign trips but on this night of nights, she was in town for a medical conference. The key speaker got sick so it was cancelled. About nine, she showed up at the hotel, identified herself and asked for a key to her husband’s room. She went upstairs and opened the door to surprise

  her husband. She sure as hell did! Hubby was in the room okay, but with another woman … Sarah.”

  “No shit!” Matt slapped the table with his hand.

  “No shit, indeed. According to the bellboy – he was working the floor at the time – all hell broke loose. Reid’s wife started screaming bloody murder. The bellboy went to the door, still open, to see what was happening. There was the congressman standing beside the bed, naked as a jay bird, next to your late friend, Sarah who was grabbin’ hold ’uv ah sheet to cover her body, also naked as the day she ’us born. The wife threatened to sink his campaign among other things. Using a butcher knife was mentioned,

  interspersed between expletives.”

  Matt laughed.

  “Sarah pulled on her clothes and was headed to her room down the hall while the congressman’s wife was still raising hell behind her.”

  “Son of a bitch!”

  “I think that’s one of the names she called him. Anyway, the bellboy heard the congressman trying to calm her down. I suppose he must have because none of it hit the papers and he’s still running. No divorce either.” Carter got up for a refill.

  “Well, that is news, Carter,” Matt called. “Great job. So the wife was pissed. How about hitting mine?” He handed Carter his cup.

  “Anything else?”

  “The wife called Sarah a few names during the confrontation, the bellboy recalled. And, slapped her as she left the room. Called her a high-class whore.” Carter laughed. “Sarah answered that. ‘You’re a cold bitch in bed. Why do you think he sleeps around?’

  The bellboy didn’t catch the wife’s response to that.”

  “Hmm, I imagine Triplett would be happy to get this information. Trouble is, I don’t know if I want to give it to him. At least not until I can use it.”

  “How do you propose to do that?” Carter asked.

  “I don’t know. First, I’m going to talk with Denise one more time to see if she’s been holding back. Sarah must have given her more details. Wonder how Warner found out?”

  Carter stared away in thought before saying, “I imagine he was around for the fundraiser. Maybe he heard the hotel staff talking about it. Maybe Reid told him in case damage control was needed.”

  “Probably that. Maybe Warner told her she was not going on

  anymore fundraisers. Denise has to know that, I’d think.”

  “Could be she’s too embarrassed to talk about it,” Carter said and added, “The wife … and Warner had a motive to kill Sarah.”

  “Yeah. Sarah might have made a threat or two that pissed Warner off. We’ve got lots of smoke, but no fire, old buddy.”

  “Well, that’s what you get the big bucks for, to find the fire. All I have to do is turn over the rocks so you can see what slithers out,” Carter said.

  “Good job, Carter. Did you have enough money to cover your expenses?”

  “Pretty close. I’m close to the thousand you gave me so I’m okay for now. I’m fixin’ to head on down to the campaign headquarters. I’ll see if I can find out anything else. Uh, are you

  sure you don’t want to tell Triplett about the … exchange between the wife and Sarah and the congressman? I know you don’t like him but…”

  “Yeah. I’m thinking the same thing myself. It is part gossip though and I didn’t see a thing. I’ll think about it.”

  He’s probably right, Matt thought. I should call Triplett. When I told him about an argument involving Sarah at Reid’s campaign headquarters, he said there wasn’t one.

  Hell, I’ve made a disclosure. But it looks like I’ll have another dinner with Denise.

  Denise didn’t answer his call, so he left a message. ”Would you join me at Mr. A’s for dinner tonight at six?”

  Chapter 15

  Denise called back and said she would be delighted to go to dinner with him.

  Sounded too damn delighted, Matt thought. That’ll change when I put the pressure on.

  The garage called to tell him his car was ready. They dropped it by his house.

  The rest of the day was spent finishing affidavits to transfer Sarah’s car and bank account to the Bushes. He sent both via overnight mail with a letter asking for instructions about the car and giving them a progress report.

  *****

  Matt met Denise as she came out the elevator door at Mr. A’s. Her face captured the essence of youthful innocence. He was pleasantly impressed. She wore a beautiful burnt orange sheath dress with dark piping trim that fit her like a glove. That didn’t come from a discount store.

  Shows off her curves. I hadn’t noticed those before. I believe she’s been exercising. She looks good. Could be I’m coming back to life.

  He felt better about dressing a bit for the evening. He’d dragged out an old, lightweight suede coat, brown pants — the

  only pair he had with a decent crease — and white shirt. His shoes still had a little shine left from the time he’d thrown them into the closet the day after Jennifer’s trial ended.

  She smiled when she saw his eyes rake her up and down. His head gave a little twist and nod that showed his approval.

  “You look great, Denise! I love your perfume. Intoxicating! I i
magine we’ll get great service from the waiters tonight.”

  “Thank you. You do too.” Her look told him she was pleased that he’d noticed. He made a gesture at her dress with his hand.

  “From your ex-father-in-law?”

  “Wha… How’d you know!”

  “Last time you wore something new. He gave it to you. Said you needed to dress for your position. This time something new.” He nodded. “Seemed logical.”

  “You’re right. He sent me half a dozen new outfits. I’d never go out and buy anything. I’m never on camera so all I need are

  casuals. He’s nice though and I hate to tell him no.”

  “I’d say.”

  “He hated it, he said, when Andre left me. As far as he was concerned, Andre made a big mistake.”

  “I agree with that.”

  “You’re sweet.”

  “Yeah. Sweet people sleep alone, but thanks.”

  “You’re not that sweet, Matt.”

  He smiled and escorted her into the restaurant and to their table. Along the way, she gave him the name of her perfume. He’d asked. “It’s Faubourg. A Christmas present from my mother.”

  “She has good taste.”

  A Southwest plane glided past Mr. A’s to land at the San Diego airport as Denise and Matt were served their wine. Matt hadn’t begun his questioning so Denise was still smiling, enjoying the small talk, something Matt always had trouble with.

  “It was nice of you to invite me to dinner. It has been a long time since I’ve eaten here,” Denise said. “Last time was somebody’s going away party.”

  “I always enjoy your company Denise, but I have to confess, this isn’t strictly social.” His tone hardened automatically, the consequences of years of cross-examining hostile witnesses. She wasn’t hostile, but he felt she had been holding back and his job was to find out what it was and if it had any bearing on Sarah’s death.

  “I’m going to ask you some hard questions and I want some

  truthful answers. Okay? No beating around the bush this time!” He wanted to say “bullshitting” but thought better of it.

  Her eyes widened. “What?” Her voice came with the shock she felt at the sudden change in his demeanor. The pleasant, pleased look on her face gave way to one of suspicion, maybe a touch of fear.

  “You see, I know you’ve been holding back about Sarah.” He always resolved uncertainties to his favor. He added his hostile witness stare. She blinked. He didn’t.

  “I … I haven’t … not really.”

  “I think you have. Probably out of some sense of loyalty. However, I’m trying to find her killer. I want the son of a bitch to pay for what he did. The only way I’m going to make any progress is for you to tell me all you know.”

  She picked up her wine and drank half the glass, then sighed. “Matt … I … You have to understand. Sarah told me I wasn’t to say anything to anybody. I know she’s dead. I want the man who killed her to pay as much as you. I just can’t quite get over my promise to her.”

  “I’m going to help you. Was she sleeping with the congressman? Did she sleep with him at the Mark Hopkins?”

  “How’d you …?” Her jaw dropped open. Her eyes dropped to look at her wine glass. “It was only that one time, she told me.

  And his wife interrupted that. They hadn’t even … well, you know, started when Clint’s wife walked in. Sarah was mortified.”

  “I can imagine.”

  The waiter took their orders. Both would have the steak and baked potato special. When the waiter was out of sight, Matt asked,

  “What did Warner say to her? After the big event.”

  “He told her he’d personally pay her a visit if she even looked at the congressman again. If she so much as whispered what had happened, he’d know and it’d cost her.”

  “Did he spell that out?” Matt asked.

  “No, but it scared her.”

  “I don’t doubt it. Kicking her off the campaign would be an invitation for her to tell her story. That wouldn’t do the congressman any good. What else happened?”

  She answered, “Jeff went back to Silicon Valley to the Merlin corporate offices and Sarah went back to work. He uses the corporate jet to go back and forth. Also to take the congressman here and there for speeches and things.”

  “Was Warner back when Sarah was killed?”

  She didn’t know. “He was there the day after. He seemed upset.”

  I bet.

  Their wine glasses were refilled and a basket of fresh baked

  rolls were brought out.

  “Didn’t the wife have anything to say?”

  “She apparently told the congressman that Sarah was not to go on any more trips with him. And if she did, Dr. Reid said she would personally go public and ruin his chance to become senator. She had put up the money when he ran for congress the first time. They got married after he won. He’s a lawyer. Still has an office in Del Mar. Never made much money. Too busy politicking. Sarah found that out.”

  Every lawyer’s dream, Matt thought. Get elected to office

  and never have to work again, just talk about it.

  Denise told Matt that Dr. Reid’s late father, Tommy Larson, left her several hundred acres of prime land in Carlsbad. He was a

  real estate developer. After he died, she sold a lot of it to developers for estate developer. After he died, she sold a lot of it to residential subdivisions and apartments but kept the commercial property and developed it through her father’s company.

  “She still owns those properties. Her father’s old development company manages them.”

  “She must be rich,” Matt noted.

  “She is. Very. She practices with a bunch of other doctors. Their offices are in a building she owns. Fully equipped with the latest of everything, according to what Sarah found out. Sarah said she just sees a few patients so she can still say she’s a physician. She likes the prestige.”

  “What does she look like?” Matt asked.

  “Fairly plain. Keeps in shape though and watches her diet but is beginning to show her age. Colors her hair, dark brown. Keeps it short. She and the congressman are in their fifties. He looks younger than she does. Actually, he’s a nice-looking guy, suave and sophisticated. Drop-dead gorgeous. In great shape apparently. Has to be to keep going the way he does.”

  “I’ve heard.”

  “He never stops. Sarah said he’d had cosmetic surgery. He looks young so it must have worked.” She shrugged. “Women fall all over themselves to get their pictures taken with him. But, he is beginning to show a slight middle age spread. Too many campaign dinners. Sarah said he usually sleeps with somebody on his trips. Sarah was the first one his wife ever caught him with. Sarah said it was Murphy’s Law at work.”

  “Perfect example.” He knew the congressman’s type. Jennifer’s husband, Aaron, was like that. Couldn’t keep his zipper zipped.

  “How does Merlin fit in?” Matt asked.

  “Merlin was hired by Dr. Reid to computerize all her properties. They did a great job, according to what Sarah found out. Cost some bucks. Now, all her holdings run on automatic. If an air conditioner breaks down someplace, a computer-generated call immediately goes to a serviceman to get out there and fix it.”

  “She must have brought Merlin into Clint’s campaign for the Senate.”

  “Yes. That was all part of the story Sarah was working on.

  She wanted to show how a campaign runs. What goes on behind the scenes. All the dirt.”

  “What else did she find out?” he asked.

  “There was something else, but she hadn’t nailed it down.

  That’s what she said. I gathered it was something significant.”

  “Corruption, you think?”

  Denise shook her head. “I don’t know, but I didn’t get that

  impression. I’m trying to remember what she said. Something to do with the congressman. Sorry, that’s the best I can do.”

  “Maybe all
the women he’s been sleeping with,” Matt suggested.

  “Could be. I don’t know.”

  “Has Merlin been promised anything?”

  She shook her head. “We figured they would cash in if the congressman wins, but if there’s anything in writing, we couldn’t find it.”

  “My guess is the wife is handling that. Maybe she’s in for a cut. Maybe she owns some stock,” Matt said.

  “Sarah mentioned that too, but she hadn’t been able to find anything.”

  “It’s publically traded so the shareholders should be known.”

  Their dinners arrived. Eating temporarily interrupted their talk. In fact, it practically ended it. Matt asked a few more questions, but Denise didn’t have much more to tell. He was relieved that it had gone as well as it had. She didn’t seem upset.

  “Do you think Sarah was killed because of that?” she asked.

  “It satisfies my test. Anything over five million qualifies as

  adequate motivation for murder,” Matt answered.

  “Sarah said Merlin was already very successful.”

  “Greed becomes an insatiable addiction. I imagine Warner has stock options, if not stock.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What else was she working on?”

  “Your story. You know that.”

  “Who else was she interviewing, besides me?”

  “I don’t know. She said she had worked up a list. Anybody who had anything to do with the case or the parties on it, she

  told me.”

  “What happened to it?”

  “I don’t know. Probably had it on her laptop. Maybe her notepad.”

  “Both gone. Was Padgett informed?”

  “Maybe he was. Sarah usually told him what she was looking into but rarely told him or anybody any details.”

  “Except for you.”

  “Not even me all the time. Who knows what she had in the back of her mind. She may have been nosing around.”

  Dinner ended. It was after ten. Both turned down desert and after dinner coffee. “I could make us a cup of decaf,” Denise told him as they walked toward their cars. “Sarah has one of those