That La Jolla Lawyer

by Robert Rogers

  “Mos’ likely. You know she still uses her maiden name, Larson, in her medical practice? One of my fellow grunts told me. Well, they were talking about it and I overheard. Apparently it was a money thing. It saved having to change all her billing info and stuff.”

  “Ever see her?” Matt asked.

  “She comes in now and then. Uses the congressman’s office.

  Keeps the door closed.” Carter said. “Anything going on in your world today?”

  “I’m getting ready for Denise’s party tonight. Did I tell you about it?”

  “You mentioned it. A late wake kind of thing for Sarah.”

  “Yeah. Padgett’s been added. I dread it. Except for Denise, I

  won’t know a soul and they’re all so damn young,” Matt said.

  “Yeah. Jes’ keep circulating and you won’t have to say a

  thang.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I reckon you gonna create a hairy assed shitstorm in Poway

  when you start heckling the man, Matt. Some of the shit may blow back on you,” Carter said in his folksy way.

  Matt agreed. “I’ll wear my tennis shoes.”

  Carter grunted his reply and left.

  Matt spent a couple of hours on the computer researching Merlin, Warner and Reid. He didn’t find anything terribly useful, nothing that he didn’t already know except that Warner played defensive end for a college in the Bay area.

  Probably has bad knees.

  On a whim, he turned his attention to Stone. There was not much there either. His picture; all teeth and smiles. Could have been a politician.Have to admit the bastard takes a good picture. I can see why Jennifer was attracted. Tall with dark hair not that so dashing or handsome, but in the same damn neighborhood. Aaron wasn’t tall but he was drop-dead charming. Maybe she wanted a change.

  Stone had gone to a nondescript law school. Hadn’t done much since he’d begun his practice. Mostly handled domestic relations, divorces. Nothing big enough to warrant an Internet link.

  He’d had one divorce and two children. His office had been in a blue collar area of San Diego but moved to the La Jolla location after he married Jennifer.

  *****

  He rang the bell of Denise’s condo. A question he wanted to ask was whether she’d closed escrow on the condo.

  Denise opened the door. “Matt Dawson,” she beamed. “Come in.” She gave him a squeeze then stood back for a look. He’d washed a pair of old tennis warm ups for the evening. She had said it was informal.

  Matt handed her the bottle of red he’d brought and took a man’s look at her. She wore a randomly colored patch-work lacy

  top, tightly fitting with a deep V, that hung over her waist, subtle and attractive. Her shorts could have been painted on. All in all, Matt thought she looked great.

  Damn! It has been a long time, he told himself since he’d noticed any woman like that. Maybe she’s not that young.

  “You look damn good, Denise,” he told her. “Modeling might be in your future.” He was joking but she liked it and squeezed his arm.

  “Keep that up, Matt. I like it. Come on back, I’ll introduce

  you.”

  Music played in the background, that plus a number of conversations made it difficult to hear. All seemed to know him, at least by reputation. He was relieved no one said anything about the damned trial and its aftermath. He guessed there were about a dozen attendees, about an equal number of men and women. Outside on the balcony, two people were having a smoke.

  She made a quick round, introducing Matt. All but one, an older guy, were from ANN including Padgett’s temporary guy from DC. She gave names but he didn’t catch any of them.

  He paused for a glass of beer when they passed the drink

  table.

  She maneuvered him toward the older guy. He was holding a

  glass of red. He had dark hair and stood a couple of inches under six feet, Matt guessed.

  Fairly good shape.Decent looking. Had a face with sharp angles. Steely eyes, Matt thought.

  As he stood in front of the guy, he decided he was not much older than he was but looked younger. Probably colors his hair.

  Teeth look capped. Wish I could break the habit of sizing up everybody I meet. I won’t though as long as I practice law.

  “Matt Dawson,” Denise said, “this is Nicholas Marino, Nico, Andre’s father. He’s been a real friend since my divorce.”

  The man touched her arm and smiled. “No more than you deserve, Denise.” She thanked him.

  He looked at Matt and said, “Nico. My friends call me Nico.

  I feel like I know you from what Denise has told me.”

  “Nico it is then.”

  Somebody called her name and she turned away and left them together.

  “Denise tells me you’re in property management,” Matt said, glad for something to say.

  He finished a sip of wine and answered. “The company I work for manages properties all over the country. Our headquarters is in Las Vegas but I travel all over. I know you from that trial. The Schofield doctor shot her husband and you got her off. You did a great job. We all said, then and there, if we needed a good attorney, we’d look you up.”

  “Thank you. I’m about to open a new office.”

  “Denise says you guys are investigating the death of her friend, Sarah. I assume you’re still using the guy you used for the

  Schofield trial. He made a good witness, down- to-earth. The jurors liked him.”

  “Carter,” Matt said. “That drawl of his — he’s from Alabama

  — makes him an instant friend.”

  “I think you’re right.” Then, as if to answer the question on Matt’s face, the man added, “We watched as much of the trial as we could. It was riveting. Vegas odds were 10-1 against you until the mistrial. Then, they dropped to 7-1. After the first hung jury they dropped to even money. It was like a bullfight, a skilled bullfighter against a streetwise bull.”

  “I hope I was the bull,” Matt said with a twist of his head.

  “You were. At first, we didn’t give you a chance but as it went on, it looked like slowly but surely you turned the tide in your

  direction. You did a hell of a job.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you making any progress finding who killed Denise’s friend? The news reports have dried up.”

  “Not a hell of a lot. We have a few leads however.”

  “Sometimes, you just have to walk away.”

  “I never give up on anything, Nico.”

  “I suppose that must be why you have such a good reputation.” He touched his glass to Matt’s with a big smile.

  Matt shrugged. “I try to do my best. I don’t quit until the game’s over.”

  Finger food was on platters on the table next to the beer and wine table. Some veggies and dip, some small sandwiches, chips and nuts. Simple but enjoyable fare.

  The man’s eyes stayed on Denise as she refreshed the table.

  He looked at Matt and said, “Denise is like a springtime breeze, fresh, renewed innocence. My son had to be on something to let her go.”

  “Yeah.” Matt agreed.

  “She speaks highly of you.”

  Matt nodded. “She has great things to say about you. How supportive you’ve been since the divorce.”

  He smiled. “I try. She’s a delight.”

  Just then, a young man tapped a spoon against a glass and began to speak. He looked to be in his late twenties, wore dark- rimmed glasses and had a head full of thick, dark hair in need of a trim. He wore a pullover and jeans and from all Matt could see, didn’t care what he looked like on the outside. The looks he cared about were inside his head.

  Matt heard someone say the name “Allister.” Someone Carter talked to.

  Allister appeared very comfortable speaking to the group. He talked about the purpose of the party, “To honor the memories of Sarah and Mr. Padgett. Mrs. Padgett sent her regrets and her blessings.
She knows her husband would be very pleased. Her babysitter could not make it.” He went on about things they’d done, including Sarah’s Pulitzer and how they were missing them and would not soon forget either of them.

  “And, to stir a little fun into the party, Denise is going to sing one of Sarah’s favorites. I’ll be on the drums. Alas, we have to use canned music for the rest.” He pointed to a Bose CD player against the wall, not far from where his drums were set up.

  He waved for Denise to come up and retreated to his drums for an introductory drum roll. There was no microphone but in that small space none was needed.

  Denise said, “Allister badgered me into this. So blame him. Sarah used to play this song when she wanted to relax after a hard day.”

  Allister waved, added another drum roll and shouted, “Enough talk. Laissez les bon temps roulez!”

  She clicked on the CD player and as soon as the music was heard, she began to sing. Her first song was an old torch song, That Old Black Magic. Soft and sultry.

  Allister played gently on the drums. The Bose pouring out the melody. Denise sang like a professional, looking into the eyes of every man in the room, like he was the one she was singing to. And, from their faces, the women liked it also.

  Matt noticed that the temp looked like he was mesmerized.

  So did Nicholas.

  And, to be fair, she is good, Matt thought.

  She finished to enthusiastic applause. Allister stood, bowed with a big grin, all the time waving a hand at Denise. She smiled big, eyes wide as if surprised by the response.

  Denise, Matt thought, you hit a homer with that one. The temp shouted, “Encore.”

  Denise shook her head and took a step to leave. He shouted again and the room exploded with calls for one more. “Okay,” she said. She punched the CD out of its slot, glanced at the label and shoved it back in. She said something to Allister who shook his head with a “yes.”

  “Sarah used to play this one when she was feeling down. It got her juices flowing. Bill Bailey.”

  The music came on and she belted out a raucous Bill Bailey, won’t you please come home.

  That brought the house down. The wake party had

  blossomed.

  The party guests gathered around to hug and pat her on the back. Everyone gave her the praise she deserved including the

  temp and Nicholas.

  Matt waited until the crowd dispersed before getting close enough to say, “You knocked ‘em dead. I think I’ll take you on the road. You could make a fortune and I could spend it.”

  She laughed. “I sang a little in high school and college and made the mistake of telling Allister. He’s never let me forget it. I was so embarrassed, I was afraid I’d forget to breathe and pass out.”

  Other associates and friends gathered around, pushing Matt aside. He poured himself another glass of beer, filled a plate with finger food and retreated to the balcony to enjoy the view and the food.

  He noticed Nicholas telling Denise something and then leaving. She hugged him warmly and added a kiss on the cheek. He left with a smile.

  Matt had little to say over the course of the evening. He exchanged small talk with Denise when their paths crossed. She was solicitous about how he was fitting in. He assured her he was having a ball. That was for her benefit. To be fair, he was bored out of his gourd. He had very little in common with the younger crowd even if they were all very nice and courteous. Even so, he was glad for the opportunity to get out of his house for the evening.

  As such parties go, toward the end of the evening, the guests begin talking shop, one story or another that they were running or planning to run. Interesting, but not much Matt could identify with.

  One conversation did get his attention, however. Allister was talking about doing research on the station’s powerful mainframe computer; how fast and easy it was.

  Apparently their main frame linked to their Washington DC main frame which was even more powerful, with links all over the world.

  Matt remembered the computer in his office. It had enough storage and speed to handle his needs, mostly research, with links

  to every attorney service that could be useful in his practice, but he was certain it would have been miniscule alongside the main frame computer of the ANN station. He’d seen one or two and some occupied an entire room.

  “I just stored my file,” Allister had told the young woman he’d been addressing. “Too much info to download onto my laptop.”

  The young woman had winked and said, “Not to speak ill of the dead, but old Padgett would have to get up early to outsmart us.”

  “So right,” the young reporter had answered.

  The exchange didn’t connect with Matt just then, but it

  would.

  Chapter 21

  Matt hung around to help Denise clean up after the other guests had gone. A couple of the other young women also stayed to pitch in. Most of the plates and things were disposable and went into a garbage bag which he took downstairs to the dumpster at the back of the building.

  When only he and Denise were left, he poured himself half a glass of red and stood beside her for a view of the harbor through the back windows. “Have you made any progress buying the condo from Sarah’s parents?” he asked.

  “Funny you should ask. I sent them a letter today. I can get a loan with some help from my parents. The Bushes are offering the condo at a great price. I could almost afford it on my salary, but not quite. A…kind of friend, well, Nicholas, you met him.”

  “Yes. Seemed like a nice man.” He wasn’t sure he agreed with that assessment, but it was the easy thing to say.

  “He offered to help, but…it didn’t seem the right thing to do.

  He flew over for the party. Wasn’t that sweet?”

  “I’d say. I wish I had that kind of budget.”

  “Me too. The company he works for has a plane.”

  “However, I think you were right to turn him down. Best not to borrow from a friend if you don’t have to. Congratulations. It’s very nice and close to your work. By the way, the congressman is speaking in Poway tomorrow. Is ANN sending anyone to cover it?”

  “I’ll be there as a volunteer. The station isn’t sending a crew out there. We only do that when we get a notification that he’s going to say something significant.”

  “I’m going. I may say something significant.”

  “What?”

  “I might ask him about Sarah.”

  She stepped back in shock. “What! You’re not!”

  “I am. Why not? They had a sexual liaison followed by an argument with an angry wife and campaign director, and she ended up dead. I think a question is relevant and significant.”

  “Matt! You do like to stick your head into the lion’s mouth!

  You know Warner will have security guys there to remove people like you. They don’t like hecklers.”

  “No doubt, but I’m still going to ask.” When I’ve run out of ideas, I poke at the other side with a stick and see if they make a mistake, he thought.

  “I’ll be watching, just not that close. I don’t want to get blood on my clothes,” she said with half a smile.

  “That’s funny,” he said. That’s always the down side of poking with a stick.

  “I’ll tell you something but keep it under your hat, okay?”

  “Okay. What is it?” she asked.

  “My old investigator, Carter Nelson, is working undercover at Reid’s campaign headquarters. Older guy, bushy eyebrows, almost bald –“

  “I know him! Well, I’ve seen him and we talk now and then. I thought I recognized him. He testified at the Schofield trial, didn’t he?”

  “He did. I’m telling you because if anything comes up, he can help out. He knows I’ve been talking to you so if you need anything, let him know. I’ll tell him I’ve told you.”

  “I think you’ll need him more than I will, but thanks anyway.”

  “I was thinking down the road if
things heat up.”

  “Good point.”

  He looked at her. Her eyes had fixed on his. He knew what that meant. He stayed for breakfast.

  *****

  “Thanks for a great evening,” he told her over morning coffee and a croissant. “It has been a long time for me.”

  “It cuts both ways, Matt. It was a real turn on. My door will forever be open to you.”

  “I could never forget a door like yours, Denise.”

  She laughed. She reached over the small dining table and touched his hand with hers. “Thanks, Matt.”

  They finished breakfast. He helped clean up.

  “I’ll see you in Poway,” he told her as he left. “Stirring the congressman’s pot.”

  “Nobody’s going to admit to anything. You know politicians.

  They say everything but the truth.”

  He laughed. “You’re right. I’m not sure what I expect. A mistake of some kind would be good. I think, deep down, I just want to do something for Sarah. The congressman got something for nothing. He should at least pony up with something. A little public humiliation for starters.”

  Lawsuits were usually threatened after disclosures like he was about to make, but they usually went away after the election.

  The winner didn’t need to pursue them and the loser had no money. “Make sure his goons don’t stir yours. I’ll try to take pictures with my iPhone. That might give you something to look at in the hospital.”

  That’s a thought.

  At the door, he turned and said, “By the way, congratulations on a great party. Sarah … and Padgett would have been proud of everything, especially the songs. You’re a natural.”

  She kissed him goodbye.

  *****

  Matt deliberately did not bring anything with him to Poway that would resemble a weapon. He didn’t want to give Warner’s security guards an excuse to do him bodily harm. He knew they’d be on him in a flash as soon as he started talking. He planned to spot them early and try to keep as much distance between him and them as possible.