That La Jolla Lawyer

by Robert Rogers

  That would account for the bruise I saw on her trigger finger during the first interview, Matt thought.

  “Sounds goods to me. How do we prove it?” Carter asked. “I

  have no idea. She’s been tried and acquitted. However, Stone

  could be indicted.”

  “That would make my day,” Carter said with a grin.

  “It wouldn’t hurt mine. I don’t think either one will confess, do you?”

  Carter shook his head.

  “I had another thought the other day. I was looking at pictures taken before the trial. I’d taken one of Jennifer’s bruise, the one on the side of her head. I didn’t use it at the trial. Never seemed a right time,” Matt said.

  “I remember it,” Carter said.

  “Something about the bruise bothered me from the first time I saw it, but since it didn’t come up during the trial, I let it go. When Jennifer and I had dinner the other night, I showed her the picture of Aaron with the cell phone in his hand and the bruise nagged at me again and I finally figured out why.”

  “Hell, Matt, it ain’t Christmas. Don’t keep me waiting.”

  “Aaron’s phone had a pie shaped end, rounded. That was the

  part sticking out of his hand. The picture I took of Jennifer’s bruise was–”

  Carter interrupted. “Oblong! Son of a bitch! It didn’t come from Aaron’s cell phone!”

  “Yep. Aaron didn’t hit her with his phone. Had to be

  somebody else’s phone!”

  “Stone’s! Ain’t that a gift to the baby Jesus! We might have been played, Matt. They were good.”

  Matt nodded. “I have to agree.”

  “And you got screwed. Well, to be accurate, you didn’t.” Carter grinned.

  Matt laughed. “I’d settle for getting paid right now.”

  Carter made a face showing his disgust and said, “Good luck.

  Regular Bonnie and Clyde, those two.”

  “Yep. Well, what are you going to do now that you’ve retired

  from both your jobs and turned down Triplett’s offer?” Matt asked.

  “I’m going to be like that chicken I saw when I was a kid.

  Do you remember? You put a penny in the slot and the chicken

  jumps up to peck a kernel of corn. I’m waiting for you to put a

  penny in the slot.”

  “Ha. How about I put a penny in the slot the next time Jennifer and I have dinner,” Matt said.

  “I don’t reckon you’ll get a kernel of corn outta her. I betcha she’d make a damn good poker player.”

  “She would, Carter. She definitely would. That reminds me. I owe Denise a dinner. I should call and see where she wants to go.”

  “You’re becoming a social butterfly, Matt. Next thing I know you’ll be drinking red wine like that La Jolla crowd.” He laughed. .

  “I don’t run with the herd. You know that,” Matt said.

  “Just kidding. I don’t guess you’ve heard anymore from Reid’s bunch about a lawsuit?” Carter asked.

  “No. That’s a bit of a puzzle. I figured they’d at least file, maybe not serve me, but file in case anybody asked. They may be waiting for the polls or beating the bushes to see how many people

  they can buy off to undercut my so-called proof.”

  “They’re a sneaky bunch,” Carter noted.

  “At least.”

  Matt’s phone rang. It was Allister.

  “I can get into a site that’ll give you what you need to know about Merlin’s shareholders. You and Denise might want to be here when I hack in so you can tell me what you need.”

  “Good idea,” Matt said. “What time would be good for you?”

  “Usually the newsroom has cleared out by seven. Is that too

  late for you?”

  “Not for me. Have you talked to Denise?”

  “She’s okay with seven,” Allister said. Matt told Carter what he planned to do. Carter wished him good luck.

  Chapter 24

  The lights were on in the ANN newsroom and the door wasn’t locked so Matt walked through. He passed a desk with “Denise” on a placard. A colorful vase of red roses decorated one corner. Wonder who sent them. Nico? Probably.

  Allister and Denise were in a room to one side of the newsroom, lights on all over a panel. Both were seated in desk chairs, Allister’s in front of a keyboard facing a good sized computer monitor.

  The computer room, Matt correctly assumed.

  Allister wore his usual, a pullover and jeans and still hadn’t combed his hair.

  I don’t think Allister is on-camera material. He reminded himself that a team had many positions, each with its own responsibilities and talents.

  Matt went inside.

  Allister and Denise turned. “Matt,” Denise said. “Allister’s logged on! We’re ready to snoop!”

  “Hi, Mr. Dawson.” Allister turned and shoved out his hand. “An honor to meet you, sir.”

  Matt shook the young man’s hand and repeated what he’d

  told Denise. “I saw you at the wake. Great job on the drums. And, I don’t mind saying how impressed I am by anyone who can master a computer like you obviously have. The honor is mine.”

  The young man shook his head without replying. He pointed at the monitor. “This is a list of shareholders and option holders.”

  “Can you check specific names?” Matt asked. “Sure. Let me have them.”

  “Try Clint Reid, Marcia Reid, and Jeff Warner,” Matt said.

  Allister wrote the names on a notepad and began typing on the keyboard. Seconds later, he stared at the monitor and said, “Nothing on the Reids. Warner owns a thousand shares outright

  and has an option for 10,000 more at ten cents a share. The stock closed today at a hundred a share so he’s worth a ton.”

  “Over a million,” Matt quickly calculated. “Try Marcia Larson. That was her maiden name.”

  More typing. “No. Nothing for Marcia Larson. How about the Larson Foundation? They hold an option for 20,000 shares at ten dollars a share.”

  “Larson Foundation. I bet Marcia Larson set that up. I wonder what we can find on that.” Matt asked.

  “I’ll get out of this and see what I can find,” Allister said and began typing furiously. His fingers racing over the keyboard like a concert pianist. Matt and Denise watched, amazed at the speed with which links came on the monitor then gave way to other links.

  Finally, Allister looked at them and said, “Here it is. The Foundation was started about six years ago by Marcia Larson. It is run by Jeremy and Lucile Whitehall.”

  “Her children by a prior marriage, no doubt,” Matt said. “Anything more on it?”

  “Not much. They disburse money for medical research in Africa.”

  Denise laughed. “I bet they disburse. If they do, I imagine it comes right back.” Allister looked at her and smiled.

  The boy has interest, Matt thought.

  “Well, we have some stuff to chew on, Denise. Thank you Allister.” He took out his wallet and handed the young man two one hundred dollar bills. “I don’t want to insult you but would you take this for your trouble?”

  The young man took the money with a smile. “No insult, sir.

  Thank you. If I can help again, let me know.” He turned to the computer and asked over his shoulder. “Unless you have anything else, I’ll shut it down.”

  “I did have another question,” Matt said, recalling the

  discussion during the wake party. “The other night somebody said

  you guys saved files on the mainframe. Could Sarah have done

  that?”

  Denise spoke up. Her words came quickly as they do when people are rattling off thoughts. “We all did, especially after Padgett told us to give him the passwords for our laptops. Not only that, no way could we leave the mainframe in Starbucks for someone to pick up or pour coffee on, like we do with our laptops. Problem is, I can’t get into her file. It’s labeled, SB, by the way.
”

  SB. Ah, Sarah Bush. Took me a second for that to make it into my conscious level.

  Denise continued, “I’ve tried her birthday, her condo address, her start date, her Pulitzer date. Nothing works.”

  “Let me think on it,” Matt said, trying to remember something Sarah had said while they were talking. “She said something but I don’t remember what it was right now. I’ll try to remember.”

  “If you do, let me know and I’ll log on.”

  Allister logged out and push back from the monitor. “I’m outta here. See you in the morning, Denise,” he said and disappeared out the door.

  Matt followed Denise to her desk, the one with the roses. “Beautiful roses,” he said. “From Nico, I imagine.”

  She blushed a bit and said, shyly, “Yes. He sends roses now and then. He also sent a bouquet after the wake party.”

  “Hmm. They are red.”

  “That kind of bothers me too, but so far, that’s all he’s done.

  I consider him a friend.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  Matt looked at her and glanced at his cell phone to check the time. “Almost eight. How about that dinner I promised you?”

  “Okay with me. I’m not dressed though. I only dress when I’m interviewing.”

  Matt looked her over in a flash. Hair pulled back in a youthful ponytail. Nice smile. Her gray knit top and jeans looked good to

  him and he told her. “You look great, Denise. I’d take you anyplace in that outfit. Those lacey sleeves will attract attention in any restaurant we try in La Jolla, anytime. Besides, La Jolla is the king of informality, Denise. Restaurants only care about the numbers on your credit card.”

  “How good are your numbers?”

  “The expiration date has a year to go and I haven’t come

  close to exceeding my credit limits,” he said it easily but he recalled that until Sarah came into his life, he’d been living on cash. The activation of his credit card — found in his unopened mail—– came after he decided to rejoin the living. He was pleased to give Sarah the credit for that.

  “Anyway, you look like a model beside me.” He swept his hands over his frayed short sleeved khaki shirt, pants and tennis shoes.

  She admitted to having been on a bit of a diet and a more rigorous exercise program since Sarah died. Being in Sarah’s shadow had somehow diminished her motivation.

  “You cast a pretty good shadow yourself, Denise,” Matt told her. She thanked him with a kiss on the lips.

  She followed him in her car to her condo building. From there, they piled into his car and drove to Prospect Street. Along the way, she said, “I heard that Carter resigned. Warner told us and said he assumed Carter had been working for somebody. He mentioned your name as the most likely person but said Traynor was also a

  possibility.”

  He told her to watch herself. Sooner or later, Warner will deduce that she is also working undercover.

  “Frankly, I’m so busy at ANN, I don’t have time to go back down there anyway. I think I’ll call tomorrow and resign.”

  Matt gave her a pat on the back. “That makes me feel a hell of a lot better.”

  She gave him a big smile. “You’re sweet, Matt.”

  “Just want you to be safe.”

  Parking being at a premium in La Jolla, they had to park half a block from George’s, the restaurant she named. He could have

  valet parked but couldn’t bring himself to pay the extra fare. If she minded, she kept it to herself. So, they walked in the cool evening air. He glanced at her with a thought about their age difference.

  She’s young, but this is California, the melting pot of innovations. Whatever works is okay. And, this works for me.

  Besides, except for ‘sweet’ she hasn’t said anything starry eyed.

  An errant sea gull passed overhead with a loud squawk as if to protest Matt’s thought. Shut up, Matt thought.

  The street was still busy with locals and tourists visiting what was once known as the Green Dragon colony. Now, it was home to expensive boutiques, restaurants and shops with the La Valencia Hotel, the jewel of Prospect Street since 1926, where young and old alike stood in line to reserve the hotel facilities for marriages and important events.

  From someplace the smell of frying food wafted onto the street. It smelled to Matt like Mexican and he wished Denise had picked a Mexican restaurant. A margarita would taste good, maybe an enchilada or two. Well, George’s will be great, he told himself.

  They were lucky. George’s had an open table with a view of the Pacific. Matt had called ahead.

  Denise had stars in her eyes as they were shown to their table. Matt called the restaurant’s décor California modern. Nothing they saw looked old or dated. Wherever they turned the polished sheen of the elegant appointments of the restaurant stood out. And the wait staff never lost their smiles, never lost the opportunity to say something nice to the guests.

  “Look at that view,” Denise said as they were seated. “I’ve never been here but I’ve heard about it.”

  “I was here a couple of times with clients. Jennifer and I ate here once during her trial,” Matt said. “This is my first time in a

  few years. The food is very good.” he didn’t say, but thought, also expensive.

  They ordered wine. Denise, evidently in tune with La Jolla customs, ordered a nice red. Matt, going with what he liked, ordered white zinfandel. One of his wives called it “sugar water” and he guessed it was, but his taste buds had never become acclimated to the paint stripping reds most La Jollans loved.

  He asked what, if anything, was going on at campaign headquarters.

  “Just business as usual. Clint’s running around like a chicken with its head cut off, trying to visit as many places as he can in a day and speak to one group or another at night. I get tired watching him.”

  “Nothing further on the Poway incident.”

  She laughed. “Good description. Poway incident. Sounds like a movie title. No. No one’s mentioned it since our eleven o’clock story. Maybe it’s going to fade away … unless you bring it up

  again.”

  “Is that an invitation?”

  “If you have something new, it is.”

  “Let me think about it.” He was wondering about the police futilely tearing through his house searching for Sarah’s laptop. Not really a story. I could play the tape Carter made of the bellboy. I don’t know if that would be a story either. The people voting for the congressman have heard what I said and have made a decision. The people voting against him have done the same thing. I need something new and don’t have it.

  She ordered the prime rib. The tacos on the appetizer menu looked damn good, but Matt decided it might make Denise feel odd if he ordered an appetizer so he told the waiter. “Same for me. Well done.”

  When he ate there with Jennifer, he was in love and nothing mattered. Three years later, with Denise, he found himself thinking

  about the expense. What a difference love makes, he thought.

  He didn’t love Denise and wasn’t sure he ever could. But, he liked her and enjoyed being with her and tried to make her happy when they were together. She was fun, a breath of fresh air, really. And, unlike some women, she didn’t bring hang-ups into their relationship, such as it was. That was a blessing.

  While they waited and during dinner, they talked. Matt steered the conversation to what she was looking for in her future.

  “I have a degree in television and media arts from USC. My parents went there. So, I think I have a good background. Until Sarah died, I was kind of an intern. Since then, I’ve been standing on my own and loving it. It’s a great life. I want to be an anchor for a major network. ANN would be okay. The other night was

  terrific. My parents saw it. They were thrilled.”

  “You handled it like a seasoned pro.”

  They went back and forth with that until dinner was almost finished, until they’d cut through ab
out half the delicious piece of meat they’d been served. They asked for doggie bags; their hungry cats. She got his. He didn’t want to spoil Cat with anything that good.

  For desert, they shared a piece of George’s carrot cake with coffee, decaffeinated of course.

  On the way to her condo, she said, “I thank you for a lovely evening, Matt. I’ve never enjoyed a better one. Or a better dinner companion.”

  “I can say the same thing. You are dazzling.”

  She looked at him and asked, “Do you want to come in for a

  glass of wine to finish it off?”

  “I’d love it Denise, but can I have a raincheck?” He told her what had been happening to him the past few days. “I need to go home and think about what I need to do next. To that end, have you ever wondered why Reid keeps his office door locked?”

  She looked puzzled. “No. We take it for granted. One day I walked by and his door was open. He has a water cooler in his office if that’s of any interest.”

  “Not much. I saw a couple in the main part of the office area,” Matt answered as they walked to the door of the condo.

  She told him they had opened an escrow. Her parents had put up what the bank needed to complete the deal.

  At the door, she kissed him goodbye, long and sensuous.

  Chapter 25

  When he opened the door to get into his car, he remembered what Sarah said, that might be important. It was about her new life. It had begun after her divorce became final on December 12 at ten that morning.

  He wondered and called Denise who answered on the first ring. “Just going into the shower. You should have stayed.”

  “Damn, I wish I had. Listen, write this down. I think I know Sarah’s password.” He waited for her to get a pen and paper.

  “Okay,” she said.

  “Try 121210. If that doesn’t work, try DEC1210. Add an AM if you need more letters. She told me once that her life began that day, the day her divorce became final.”