That La Jolla Lawyer

by Robert Rogers

  machines that lets you make one cup at a time, decaf or otherwise.”

  “Me too. I’d love one, but not tonight.” Matt knew what that

  would lead to and knew it would be a mistake.

  He stopped and hugged her. “Denise, you are a sweetheart, a wonderful young lady, but I’m much too old for you. Just now, I’m coming out of a two-and-a-half year old shell and I’m not ready for a relationship. Let me call you when I’ve rejoined the human race.” He didn’t want to admit it just then, but he knew he had rejoined it but, as far as he was concerned, Denise was a witness, kind of, and he didn’t want her to be more than that…just then.

  She kissed him, first on the cheek, then quickly on the lips.

  Damn. Slipped that one past me. It warmed him to his toes.

  “Let me know when you do, Matt. Come by anytime. No

  strings. Okay? I’ve had a crush on you since the trial. You were so

  … I don’t know. You were awesome.”

  He hugged her. “Thank you. Coming from you that means more than I can say.” He thought, I’d like it , coming from anybody

  Chapter 16

  Driving home, he thought of the Irish Pub. He hadn’t had a beer there in several days. The trial and the humiliation he’d suffered from Jennifer seemed a distant memory, vivid, but distant. He hoped he hadn’t scared the hell out of poor Denise with his questions. He didn’t think he had. Roughing her up wasn’t something he enjoyed, but he knew he had to be a bit blunt to get her to open up.

  He also knew Carter would just be finishing his shift as janitor at ANN so he called him.

  “Want a late night beer?” he asked his investigator.

  “Tell you the truth, Matt, I’m tired. Old age is catching up with me.”

  “I had dinner with Denise Anderson. Want to hear?”

  “Tell me about it. I’m not too tired to listen.”

  Matt told him everything Denise had told him.

  “Sounds to me like ole Warner, being the front man for Merlin, might have had a reason to shut the girl up. Or the wife, if you get right down to it. Hell, anybody associated with the campaign. They all gonna be standing around with their hands out if Reid wins,”

  Carter told him when he’d finished. “We got suspects galore, Matt.”

  “Yeah. The money angle favors Merlin and anybody who owns a chunk of its stock. Maybe the wife. Maybe Warner. Both could have been in town the time she was killed. One or the other could have left the note on Sarah’s condo door.”

  Carter said, “I can’t believe Sarah would have met either after the San Francisco debacle. She should have been on her guard.”

  “Me either but she was a ballsy young woman. You don’t get a Pulitzer being timid. Or, somebody else answered her call.

  Promising inside information on the campaign. It would have been

  easy for either one to come by the house when I was at the pub and kill her.”

  “Lots of maybes in that, Matt. But, one or the other of ’em might have sweet-talked Sarah into seeing them. She wouldn’t think they were capable of murder. Right now, Matt, I’m going to bed.”

  *****

  Matt called a commercial broker the next day and asked him to look out for office space he could share with other attorneys, preferably attorneys who practiced criminal law. They would always have a surplus of cases no one wanted, in particular defendants who couldn’t afford to pay and were most always guilty. Those were the good ones as far as Matt was concerned. He had begun his career with them. Nothing to lose, no fee and a client that was guilty. He’d be happy with a reduced sentence. And, for the ones he won, fee or not, Matt would regain his reputation.

  Mrs. Bush called him. She had signed the affidavits and was overnighting them back. Matt would use them to get Sarah’s bank

  account transferred to them.

  “As far as the car,” she said, “we’d prefer that you sell it there. Of course, if you want it, we’ll sell it to you for a big discount.”

  He didn’t need it since his car was up and running but he appreciated her offer. And, he liked his old MB. He felt it was part of him.

  I should get the car cleaned before letting anybody look at it.

  A clean car looks more valuable than a dirty one.

  He drove it to a local detail shop and left it. They would call him as soon as it was finished. He walked home. It wasn’t far and he was glad for the exercise. An hour or so later, they called and

  told him it was ready. The caller offered to bring it to his house, but he elected to walk. The attendant handed him a bag with the papers they’d picked up from the car during the detailing.

  “We threw away the hamburger wrappers and apple cores,” the guy laughed. “You must like apples.”

  Matt laughed. “One a day, you know, keeps the doctor away.” He sold the car with Mrs. Bush’s approval.

  It was late afternoon and time for a cold beer but he didn’t feel like drinking alone.

  He was about to call Carter to see if he was thirsty when a black police car pulled up in front of his house. He saw the blur of blue suits rushing past his windows. Police uniforms?

  What the hell’s going on?

  Matt walked to the front and opened the door. Triplett was standing there, an angry look on his face. “Did you come for beer?” He asked. Triplett’s wrinkled suit looked slept in.

  Those Wal-Mart suits just don’t hold a crease. Matt thought cynically, but didn’t dare say so. The pajamas he wore didn’t look much better. In fact, they looked worse.

  The detective, as if hearing his thought, showed a scowl. “Don’t be funny. That’s how you look. I’ll take you to the station and let some of the guys you’ve cross-examined question you.”

  “If they’re as good at questioning suspects as they are at policing, I’d say it should be easy for me.”

  “Don’t piss me off, Dawson.”

  He pushed Matt’s shoulder with the palm of his hand and walked past. Cat’s hair stood on end, his back bowed as Triplett was passing. He hissed loudly, causing Triplett to stop and look down.

  “What the hell. Is that creature going to attack?”

  Matt shook his head. “He will if you don’t move from in front of his food bowl. He’s very territorial about his food bowl.”

  “I’ll shoot the bastard if he attacks me.”

  “Then, I’d have to file charges against you for abuse of an animal. Wouldn’t look good on your record, Detective.”

  “Kiss my ass, Dawson. You too, cat!” However, he did move swiftly from in front of the cat’s bowl.

  Matt followed him. “Okay, get on with it, Triplett. What did you come here for? You’ve already interfered with my cat’s eating

  time.”

  Triplett pointed a finger at Matt and said, “Walter Padgett was killed last night. Where were you between nine thirty and ten thirty?”

  “Killed? Why bother me with that?”

  “He may have been murdered. Suicide or accident are also possibilities. Since you just saw him — the staff down there said he seemed very upset after you left — you’re on my short list.”

  “No surprise there.” Hell, Padgett was on my short list for Sarah’s death.

  “Answer the damn question. Where were you?”

  “At nine thirty, I was finishing dinner with Denise Anderson at Mr. A’s. I guess I was in my car. I drove home and got here about ten fifteen.”

  “What route did you take?”

  “Got off the interstate at Balboa and drove straight here.”

  Triplett bent forward, pointed a finger at Matt’s face and said, “You drove past Mt. Soledad. Your car was seen!”

  “No shit! I’d say you should charge whoever said that with perjury. My car was nowhere near Mt. Soledad. Is that where Padgett was killed?”

  Triplett ignored the question and said, “You could have done it. Plenty of time.”

  “Come on, you can’t be that dumb. I only met the guy o
ne time. Spent maybe twenty minutes with him, asking him about Sarah. What’s my motive, Detective?”

  Triplett stared at Matt for a few seconds, as if collecting his thoughts. Finally, he said, “Suppose he told you Sarah had reported some incriminating things about you. Suppose he threatened to tell us unless you ponied up.”

  “What? You think he was blackmailing me? What a joke! Do I look like I have enough money to pay somebody? Besides, I doubt he’d be blackmailing anybody.”

  “He may not have known you were borderline homeless.

  Wearing rags.” He waved a hand over Matt’s wear.

  “Remember the one about the pot calling the kettle black?

  Have you looked in a mirror?”

  “Save your bullshit for paying clients, if you ever get another one. At one time, you were King Shit. Maybe Padgett thought you still were.”

  “Not if Sarah reported to him. She stayed here. Remember? She knew I didn’t have a pot to piss in. That trial cost me everything I owned except this dump and my old car.”

  He scoffed, glanced quickly at the cat before turning to leave.

  Over his shoulder he shouted, “I’m going to check your alibi, Dawson. If it doesn’t hold up, I’m coming back. Don’t leave town.” Under his breath, he muttered, “But if you do, take that damned devil cat with you.”

  “I’m not going anyplace. Neither is Cat. How’d Padgett die?

  You never said.”

  “Read the newspapers, if you don’t already know.” Triplett stalked out. The uniforms got back into their cars and left.

  Damn. Padgett. What the hell is going on? He called Carter with the news.

  “What do you make of it? Carter asked.

  “He wouldn’t give me the details. From what he said, I assume Padgett was killed on Mt. Soledad, probably around ten last night. Triplett favors murder, obviously and wanted my alibi. He stalked off to check it out.”

  “No homeless person on his shit list this time?”

  “Who knows? If my alibi holds up, the homeless as an answer

  to all crimes, might be brought into play. Beats the hell out of a thorough investigation.”

  Carter grunted his agreement with Matt’s assessment.

  “However, too much of a coincidence for his murder not to

  be connected to Sarah’s though. That’s why he was out here, rattling my cage. I had just talked with Padgett about Sarah. So, Triplett figured I must have done it.”

  “Knee-jerk reaction. I’ll see what I can find out from my buddy and let you know. Late news may have something,” Carter told him.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll call you tonight if I get anything. Otherwise, I’ll be by in the morning,” Carter said and hurried away. He had to vacuum the ANN offices.

  Matt sat at the kitchen table to think about Triplett’s news.

  Strains logic to think Padgett’s death was an accident … or a suicide. He could have picked up Sarah’s story, whatever it was, and spooked somebody with it. Not like him to be aggressive though.

  Unlike Sarah who looked at “no” as the starting point for an investigation. Still, I can’t take that off the table. He may have decided to remake himself.

  “Hell, it’s not really my problem,” he reminded himself. “That’s Triplett’s job.”

  Not true, he corrected himself. Padgett’s murder is square in the middle of my due diligence search for a wrongful death action.

  He called Denise. “Did you hear about Padgett? He was

  killed.”

  She had heard and confirmed that Padgett was killed on Mt. Soledad. She explained, “At first the police weren’t sure whether he jumped or accidentally fell, but we just got a report that he’d been hit over the head and apparently pushed down the slope. A roving security car saw his car around midnight, stopped to

  investigate and found his body near the bottom of Soledad Mountain.”

  *****

  Mt. Soledad, Matt recalled, had been the source of great controversy, ballot measures and litigation for decades, primarily because of the giant Christian cross at the very top. After millions were spent in litigation, and laws passed by the US Congress with Presidential approval, the matter was finally resolved in 2015, when a group called the Mt. Soledad Memorial Association bought the land under the cross from the Dept. of Defense. Since then, the site had been a Veterans War Memorial, picture wall and all.

  That action resolved the constitutional issue and put an end to the 25-year legal battle.

  Last I looked, the cross was still there. All that time and money and aggravation and nothing much has changed.

  *****

  “I don’t suppose there’s any gossip kicking around about why

  anybody would want to kill him?” Matt asked her.

  “No. Nobody liked him much, but nobody wanted to kill him. The buzz is who’ll take over. We heard that Washington is sending somebody out temporarily.”

  “A body needs a head,” Matt agreed.

  The evening news confirmed what Denise had told him.

  Padgett had been murdered. However, nothing was taken. There was speculation that he tumbled down the mountain before the killer could take anything.

  Unless the killer already had what he’d come for; Sarah’s laptop.

  *****

  The next morning, Carter punched the buttons on Matt’s coffee pot and waited until five ounces poured into his cup. He walked over to the table and sat down.

  “Good morning,” he said, for the second time.

  Matt reciprocated. “How’re you liking janitorial duties?”

  “Not much. I’m thinking I’ll resign. I’m not finding out enough to make it worth my while. Nobody seems to know much. Before he died, Padgett had asked one of Sarah’s casual friends about the stories she had been working on. Specifically the Schofield case and the Reid campaign. The guy got the impression that Padgett was going to pick up the stories.”

  “For himself?” Matt asked.

  “The impression didn’t go that far, but he hadn’t assigned them to anybody so…”

  Carter waved out with his hand as if to dismiss the thought and added. “The guy did say that Padgett’s briefcase was fuller than usual when he left.”

  “Like he was taking something home, files or … Sarah’s laptop?”

  Carter nodded. “That was my thought. Might have been thinking about offering it for sale. Buyer decided to take it instead. Save money and tie up loose ends.”

  “Has the ring of truth,” Matt said.

  “Don’t it just? FYI, Joseph Branson, from DC will be running the newsroom temporarily. They say he acts like he wants the job himself. The guy I was talking to said the word was a change had been in the works for some time. Sarah was their first choice.”

  “This is a great place to live.”

  “Ain’t it just. I bought wine at Grant’s Grill. Branson was onto me. Said I had been asking too many questions to be a janitor. I didn’t disagree so he told me what I just told you. They call him the new guy, ‘the temp’. Most of ‘em think they should have been considered.”

  “The eternal struggle to get to the top never ends, does it?” Matt shook his head and smiled then asked. “Anything new on the election front?”

  “Like angry wives running around with knives?” Carter asked,

  grinning as he did.

  “That’d do.”

  “Things are quiet on the western front. Warner’s around part time these days, looking like his day won’t be complete unless he

  has drawn blood someplace.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Matt said.

  “Reid’s wife, Marcia, is a bitch from all accounts. Takes after her old man. He was a real bastard. The congressman was apparently her creation. She bought him and made him what he is. Not the womanizer part. From what I’m told by my fellow grunts, the womanizing didn’t start until he became a congressman.”

  “Power must have gone to his head.”<
br />
  “Which head?” Carter asked with a grin.

  “That’s funny, Carter. Do you think she has higher aspirations?”

  “One of my grunt buddies thinks she’d like nothing more than to be on the Senator’s arm for White House functions.”

  “Would she kill for it?”

  “That’s above my paygrade, Matt. I have every confidence that you’ll be able to figure it out.”

  “I wish I did. One last thing before you retire from ANN, could you get me the details on Padgett’s wife? I think I’ll talk to her.”

  He’d do it.

  Chapter 17

  Carter called with the information on Padgett’s wife. “Her name is Meryl. Triplett has seen her. I don’t think he found out anything useful.”

  “I’ll call and see if she’ll talk to me. Thanks Carter.”

  While he was trying to decide how to approach Padgett’s wife, Franklin Stone called. His tone had changed considerably from

  the last call.

  “Matt,” he said. “Franklin Stone. I want to apologize for my tirade when I called before.”

  Be damned. Jennifer must have calmed him down. Did to him what she did to me during the trial, I imagine. Made him think he’s

  the one. Hell, maybe he is. I sure as hell wasn’t.

  “No problem, Franklin,” Matt said. I guess we’ll be buddies for now. “I understand. I was out of line too but –“

  “I know. Jen gave me the complete story. She owes you the money and we’re going to pay you. We’ve had some rough times financially. Aaron had refinanced the house to support his lifestyle, social functions, big donor, his women, the works.

  “Mortgage payments were through the roof. He made a ton in his practice, but spent it all being a big shot. Then, his children hired lawyers and they all wanted a cut of everything.

  “We had to fight them off. I doubt you’re interested in our troubles but I wanted you to know why I was uptight about your bill. It was another drop of water on my head. Our heads.”

  Yeah. Tell me some more bullshit, Stone.

  Matt told him, “At least my bill was for a purpose, a valuable purpose. Wouldn’t you say?”