That La Jolla Lawyer

by Robert Rogers

  As he left, Carter called over his shoulder. “Watch yourself.”

  “Count on it.”

  He dug out Jennifer’s twenty-five and put it in his night stand, still loaded. He didn’t need it and he slept like a log.

  *****

  The next morning, Matt sent Mrs. Bush an email report that said he was still investigating Sarah’s death but so far hadn’t found anything that pointed to anybody.

  “However, I am not giving up. I have other ravels to pull.”

  She emailed back telling him how much they appreciated his efforts. “We feel we are taking too much of your time, Mr. Dawson. We’re not sure you’ll ever be able to find who took Sarah from us. It would suit us if you’d pull back and let the police see what they could find.”

  He thanked her but told her he’d stay with his investigation a bit longer.

  Carter’s email, later that morning, had an attachment listing all of Congressman Reid’s speaking engagements in the San Diego area for the next two months. The one that caught Matt’s eye was an upcoming appearance in Poway. He planned on being there.

  He decided to call the Union, anonymously, alerting them that some fireworks might take place “You might want a crew covering the Poway speech of the congressman. I’ve heard there might be some fireworks.” He hung up before the girl who answered could ask a question.

  Without thinking, he reached over and turned on his CD player. The beautiful music of the Second Waltz filled the room. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to completely put Jennifer behind me.

  He thought he heard his phone and reached for it. It wasn’t in his pocket. “Hell, I left it in the bedroom when I was looking for the evidence box from Jennifer’s trial.”

  He hurried to find it. By that time the caller had hung up. The monitor showed a voice message from Denise who had called to invite him to the belated wake party for Sarah and Padgett at the condo the Friday coming up, at six. She had previously mentioned it.

  “It’ll be a drop in kind of thing,” she had said in her message. “Bring a bottle if you want. Stay as long as you want. Mostly, it’ll be the crew from the station. Informal. Let me know.”

  At first, he shook his head, “no” but as he thought about it, he decided there was no reason not to go. He called back and accepted.

  She didn’t answer so he left a message. “Sounds like fun! I’ll be there and I’ll bring a bottle of red.”

  On a whim, he dialed Jennifer’s office number late in the afternoon. The receptionist answered. “Dr. Schofield’s office.” Not Dr. Stone.

  Must have kept her old name to avoid confusing patients. Matt told her who he was and said. “I would like to speak to Jennifer.”

  She put him on hold then came back on. “The doctor is busy with a patient just now, Mr. Dawson. Could she call you back in fifteen minutes?”

  “That’d be fine.” He didn’t think she would.

  He was wrong. “Matt. Why’d you call?” she asked.

  He explained how he’d been cleaning up and came across a box with the trial’s evidence bag in it. “A lot of the stuff is yours,

  including your gun and, Aaron’s old phone. Some personal items.

  Clothes, things like that. I’ve taken out my briefs and some of the exhibits. I thought you might want the stuff.”

  “Ah, well, I guess I do. I’d forgotten all about my gun. I have no use for Aaron’s phone but I don’t suppose you do either. You want to drop the stuff by the office?”

  “I’d rather give them to you over dinner. If you need an excuse for Franklin, you could say I also wanted to talk about the repayment of your bill.”

  “He’s in conference tonight so that’s not a problem. Besides, he told me to handle the bill thing. I’ll tell him you wanted to meet.”

  She’d meet him at Hennessey’s at seven. Hennessey’s had been one of Matt’s favorite restaurants before he had, what he called, his nervous breakdown. He’d eaten there with Jennifer a number of times during the trial. The murals and paintings of Irish scenes seemed so real, they always relaxed him.

  Anything Irish, he thought, was synonymous with fun and good times. Better still, the food was always good.

  He also got a kick out of the ambience the fireplace added to the place. Though too hot just then, in cooler times, the fire made Matt feel like he was at home. He didn’t even know if he was Irish. Somebody had told him Dawson was English, but he’d never bothered to care about such things. Winning trials was always at the top of his “care” list. But, he could be Irish if that meant having fun and relaxing.

  *****

  He sat down at the table he’d reserved, to wait for Jennifer. The temperature inside the restaurant was just right. The background music was something by Enya. He liked it. Nice and mellow.

  He had grabbed his old suede coat and matching pants for the occasion. He put the waiter off, told him he was waiting for a guest. As expected, she was late, usually something at the office popped up at the last minute.

  About fifteen minutes later, she strolled in, still in her office clothes, white shirt and slacks. She looked impeccable however, auburn hair hanging neatly over her shoulders like she’d just come from the shower and her hair had dried along the way, undisciplined and sexually desirable. And still young, like she drank from the fountain of youth every day.

  “Saw your old MB outside. You saved it from the wrecking yard.” She smiled.

  “Like me. I decided it still had a few more miles in it.”

  Her perfume, as always, was intoxicating. He wasn’t certain of the brand, but would never forget the fragrance. Shalimar? One of his wives used it. Forgot which one. He loved it.

  Jennifer had probably just put a dab here and there before coming in, he figured.

  Like most women he’d known, she knew all the tricks to mesmerize a man. And, she knows damn well that I like it.

  He didn’t mind. However, with Jennifer, he was on his guard and always would be. Something his mother once told him flashed

  through his thoughts. “Once burned, twice shy.” Then, there was the one a president botched. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.”

  He stood and put his arms around her for a warm hug.

  She added a kiss on his cheek while they were close. “Good to see you, Matt.” She smiled like she meant it.

  “You too. Always a pleasure,” he said.

  “Thank you.”

  She sat down. Her hands rested in front of her on the table, as if reaching out to him, affectionately. Matt had to suppress a smile. She always did that when we were together during the trial. Hell, it made him think he was the one and only one.

  He was on the verge of telling her she was as mesmerizing as

  ever. The words had already formed but he caught them in time and sent them into the darkness of rejection.

  She’d think — quoting an Army buddy — she had me by the short hairs. He allowed a little laugh of satisfaction ripple through his thoughts.

  She may have noticed the look on his face and was about to say something, but the waiter appeared almost immediately with menus and the mood changed. The waiter took their drink orders. Both asked for a house beer.

  By the time he’d reappeared with two mugs brimming over with foam, they were ready to order. She took the Shepherd’s Pie, a traditional favorite at Hennessey’s. Matt ordered the fish and chips.

  They made small talk while they drank their beers, mostly about her practice. It had fully recovered. “It wasn’t hurt too badly by the trial. What hurt me was the fact that I was tied up in court all the time and couldn’t see patients. Once it was over, most of them returned.”

  She mentioned his fee bill. “I’m establishing a special account for your bill,” she said. “You’ll get a payment next month. Ten thousand dollars. Franklin and I are putting money into the account. He feels bad that he flew off the handle like he did.

  Anything extra we make goes into it. I wish we could do
more, but Aaron’s children and ex-wives have bled us practically dry.”

  “Thank you. I uh, assumed you were an honorable person. I didn’t know about Franklin, but from what you say, he wants to do the right thing.” Assumptions are riddled with errors and are only to be followed if there are no other possibilities.

  “I take that as a great compliment, Matt.” She caressed his hand with hers, gently and smiled the way she did during the trial when they had intimate moments.

  He remembered. That was then and this is now. Then, we both wanted an acquittal. Now, I want my fee and expenses.

  He reached down and put the bag of evidence from the trial on the table. “Aaron’s phone.” He reached into the bag and slid it across the table toward her as a way to talk about it. “Remember it?”

  “Oh yes. The district attorney tried to make something out of it being in Aaron’s hand. ‘What was it doing in the murdered man’s hand? He wasn’t calling anybody. I’ll tell you why. It was to cover

  the fact that the defendant put it there so she could claim he’d hit her with it. He never in fact hit her! She hit herself, ladies and gentlemen! She hit herself! That’s the kind of woman you’re looking at. Scheming and calculating, not the gentle soul she’d have us believe.’”

  “He thought he’d nailed us,” Matt said. “Had a shit eatin’ grin on his face when he sat down. I looked at the jury. They were buying it.”

  “But, you had me briefed. Aaron was always taking pictures with his phone, you told me to say. When I turned on the lights, he held it up, ready to take pictures. When he saw only me, no lover, it made him mad. I didn’t know why at the time, but he charged me with the phone in his hand and hit me.”

  “That tied it to Aaron’s supposed phone call saying you had a man in his house,” Matt said.

  “It took the wind out of the district attorney’s argument. You could see it on the jurors’ faces. Their enthusiasm faded,” she said with a smile.

  Matt slid photos out of the bag. One showed the phone in the dead man’s hand.

  Something about it pushed at the barrier of his consciousness,

  but never made it through. “You can have these if you want ’em.

  The DA used them during the trial. For some reason, I ended up with two copies.”

  What is it about the picture? Hell, I don’t know. Time was when it’d jump right into my thoughts. Will I ever make it back?

  He looked up to see Jennifer staring at him.

  “Did you believe it? Aaron’s picture taking? With the phone?” she asked

  “I didn’t care one way or the other. People don’t always do the logical thing when they’re mad. I just wanted to give the jury a reason for him to have the thing in his hand instead of what the DA

  was postulating, you hitting yourself. And, that tied in with the mark on your head. If he hadn’t had the phone in his hand, someone else would have had to hit you. And, that was impossible since Aaron was the only person in the house with you.”

  “You hammered that home during your summation, I saw the jurors nodding. You had sold them.”

  “Having him hit you was the cornerstone of our defense.

  That drove you into your temporary lapse into insanity.”

  “Embarrassing now, but it was so true.”

  “Yeah.” His thoughts had drifted back to the minutes after the verdict. He was elated but elected to remain calm like he’d

  expected it. Then, the roof fell in on him; Jennifer had walked away with Franklin Stone. He knew he’d been had, big time. As tired and worn out as he was, it was too much to absorb so he went into a shell.

  I’m over it now, by damn!

  “I’ll tell you what has worried me in retrospect,” Matt said. Actually, he’d just thought it but figured it had been lurking in his subconscious. “I was afraid Stone was in the house with you.

  Particularly after you left the courtroom together. Stone could have called Aaron knowing he’d be enraged enough to attack you and you’d have the perfect excuse to shoot him. Self-defense.”

  “Pretty good thought, Matt. However, when he hit me, it knocked me loopy. He might have killed me if I hadn’t hit him in the shoulder. As you told the jury, the attack drove me over the edge and I must have shot him again.”

  “Yeah.” Matt added a dismissing wave and asked. “Just curious, did Franklin sell his condo? I think I read or heard that he

  had one. I assume since you’re married, that you’re living together.” He was fishing for assets.

  “Yes, we are. He sold his condo to help pay some of the claims of Aaron’s children.”

  “Kind of like what you did when you married Aaron,” Matt

  said.

  She seemed surprised. “I guess you’re…that’s right. I hadn’t

  thought of it until now. Fortunately, we have a totally different relationship than the one Aaron and I had.”

  “I imagine.”

  They shared Hennessey’s bread pudding for desert with decaffeinated coffee.

  He walked her to her car, a new Tesla, but stopped at the door to say goodbye. She turned to face him. “I enjoyed it, Matt.

  Like I’ve enjoyed all our dinners together, our times. I didn’t lie about waiting. I just fell in love with Franklin. I’m sorry.” She kissed him full on the lips with a full body hug. “Can’t we be friends?”

  He remembered her warm hugs from the trial. More than friends, he thought. Much more. Unfortunately, only I thought that.

  He smiled, a fake one, but a smile nevertheless. “Of course.

  I’ve moved on. I know you have as well. We have some pleasant memories. Why can’t they be the basis of a friendship?” He was lying, but sure as hell wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of thinking he still cared.

  I see her for what she is, a selfish person who takes no prisoners. It’s the California culture, he reminded himself. The model for the rest of the world as more and more people move around and cultures become more and more rootless. Let the strong survive.

  That night he fell asleep right away and slept like a log. Seeing her again and keeping his defenses intact made him feel good.

  Chapter 20

  Carter rang the doorbell early the next morning. No surprise since he knew Matt was having dinner with Jennifer and would be curious.

  “Come in, Carter,” he said and waved him inside. Outside, the sounds of life were all around. Cars rolling along the street; people going to work; birds singing and hopping about in search of a morning morsel.

  “Help yourself,” Matt pointed toward the coffee machine

  then to the covered plate by its side. “I have mine. Grab us a couple of croissants.” He’d gone off cheese Danish when the ones Sarah bought were gone.

  Carter punched the right buttons and soon joined him at the table with the rolls. “Okay. What happened? Did she bring money? Or her usual face full of charm?”

  “Ha! The latter. She was on her game. She did promise money, however. Made some progress there, old buddy.”

  “About time.”

  He summarized his conversation with Jennifer including the DA’s argument that she had hit herself, not Aaron.

  Carter jumped to the same supposition Matt had. “Stone

  might have been lurking about. He might have hit her. I’ve had my suspicions.”

  “The other possibility, Carter, and the one the jury bought is that Aaron hit her as she shot the first time. That was after he’d grabbed for the gun. The hit or the grab, maybe both, caused her to hit him in the shoulder. That’s was her testimony. Otherwise,

  assuming the lights were on, at five feet, she could have hit him dead center.”

  “I’d still like Stone to be in on it.”

  “I’m with you there. Something still nags at me, now and

  then, but I can’t latch onto it. I think it’s the lights. If the neighbors

  were right, and the lights came on after the first shot, that’d mean she shot him
in the dark and hit him in the shoulder as a result. She could have turned on the lights and finished him off with the shot to the head.”

  Her testimony had been that Aaron hit her with his phone and grabbed at the gun before she shot. That was how she explained why she only shot him in the shoulder. Aaron fell and began to crawl away. Her mental trauma, according to Matt, caused her to blank out part of what had happened after that. She’d lapsed into temporary insanity. She saw Aaron on the floor, still felt threatened and shot him in the back of the head.

  Matt mulled over what might have happened. “I suppose she could have shot at him in the dark then turned on the lights, like the neighbors said. The ambient light might have been enough to let her see what was happening. Scared and in a panic, Jennifer might have forgotten the sequence of events. Lots of “mights” in all that, Carter. Or, was Stone there, helping out?”

  “Let me know if you figure it out. I’d like to nail that bastard, her too, for the grief they’ve caused you.”

  “Thanks Carter. It knocked me on my ass, but I’m over it now. I didn’t even play the Second Waltz this morning.”

  Carter laughed.

  Cat suddenly came into the kitchen. He strolled past Matt to rub against Carter’s leg with a purr.

  “See what happens when you feed him,” Matt said, alluding to the time Carter had filled Cat’s bowl.

  “What’s on your agenda today?” Matt asked him.

  “More grunt work at Reid’s campaign headquarters.”

  “Is he going to be there?”

  “We never know. He moves around a lot. If he can find at least three people standing together, he thinks they want to hear him speak. I’ve never seen him tired.”

  Matt shrugged. “I’ve never seen him period. Pictures but not in person. Wonder why he keeps his office locked?”

  Carter frowned and said. “Can’t say. I just took it for granted that he had stuff in there he didn’t want us peons to see.” He

  laughed. “Maybe a stack of porn magazines.”

  Matt replied also with a laugh and added, “From what you’ve said, if there is anything incriminating kicking about, I’d bet his wife, the doctor, would have it.”