As Val poured and passed a glass of white wine, she said, "I got a good start on drafting Daniel's petition this morning."
"What happens when it's ready to go?"
"I'll deliver copies to the state's attorney's office and to the circuit court judge who tried Daniel originally, since he's still on the bench. Needless to say, it will be flagged as urgent." She shivered. "Only about three weeks now. It seems so... so strange to watch this deliberate countdown to death. Barbaric."
"Very." He sipped the chilled wine. "What will the judge do?"
"Hold a hearing. It can be either in open court or in his chambers. Based on his usual habits, probably Judge Giordano will opt for his chambers. I'll be there to argue the merits of the new evidence while the state's attorney's office will send someone to explain that the original sentence was correct and Daniel deserves to burn in hell." She frowned. "Cal Murphy says Giordano is fair but a tough-on-crime sort. He wouldn't be my first choice. His court is the logical place for us to start, though."
"Can I come to the hearing?"
"Maybe. It depends on what the judge wants. I'll ask to bring you and Kendra. Having non-lawyers there would be unusual, but not unheard of."
"Should Kendra go to the hearing? It will be painful."
Val gave him a look. "Don't be overprotective. Kendra is a strong, strong woman who has been fighting for Daniel for years. It's for her to decide whether or not she wants to come to a hearing, or to the execution, if it comes to that."
"You're probably right. I was just thinking of all the court proceedings I attended during Jeff's passage through the legal system." His hand tightened around the wineglass. "Gut-wrenching."
"No doubt," she said coolly. "Yet you had the choice to attend or stay away, and you chose to attend. The easy way isn't always the best."
"I suppose not." He sighed. "The whole clumsy apparatus of capital punishment is one long exercise in torture for everyone concerned. That's why I want it ended once and for all."
"I'm beginning to agree with you." She opened the refrigerator and removed a bowl of mixed salad greens. "Was your day productive?"
"Not half bad. In the afternoon I had to teach a class in Sheetrock installation and finishing for some kids at the community center, but in the morning I managed to run down an old cell mate of Omar Benson's."
"And...?" Val paused in tossing the salad.
"He says Benson several times boasted of killing a cop and getting clean away."
"Great! Will he talk on the record?"
"Since Benson is dead, yes. Omar was one mean dude. Everyone was scared of him when he was alive. The cell mate is out on parole and working as a mechanic now, and he doesn't like the idea of someone else dying for Omar's crime."
"Excellent. It's hearsay, but compelling hearsay, and the judge can consider it if he wants to." She finished tossing the salad and sprinkled a handful of cashew bits on top. "We not only have testimony that Daniel was elsewhere when Malloy was killed, but we've located the likely murderer. Do you think you can find some more people who might have heard Omar boasting? I'll be filing my petition at the end of the week, I hope, and the more supporting material we have, the better."
"I have leads on several more of Omar Benson's associates. A lot of the people who knew him well are dead, though." He shook his head again. "What a waste of human potential."
The cell phone on his belt rang as Val dropped a large handful of fettuccine into the pot of boiling water. "Sorry, I thought I'd turned this thing off," he said. "Do you mind if I answer?"
"No problem. Dinner is still a few minutes away." She moved into the dining room and began setting the table.
He clicked the cell phone button to answer the incoming call. "Hello, Rob here."
"Mr. Smith? This is Lucy Morrison."
Recognizing the soft voice of Joe Cady's sister, he said, "Hi. Are you checking up on Malcolm? He's doing fine. I took some photos today. When they're developed on Monday, I'll take some prints to the nursing home for Joe to see. I warn you, if you want that dog back, you'll have to act fast. By the end of next week, I won't be able to bear losing him. He's a great dog."
"I'm not calling about the dog." Lucy drew an audible breath. "Joe... Joe died this afternoon. I thought you'd want to know."
His levity vanished. "I'm so sorry. I knew he was very weak, but I didn't think... Not so soon." He thought of Joe Cady's dark, haunted eyes, and his willingness to set the record straight. "I hope the end was peaceful."
"It was. My brother and sister and I were all there. Everyone who remembered what he once was." Her voice broke. "It had been weeks since I visited him, so the night you came for the dog and told me he was failing, my sister and I went by. He was happy to see us. I took him some warm cornbread. He... he enjoyed getting it even though he couldn't swallow more than a mouthful.
"Before we left, we talked to the head nurse of his floor. This morning she called to say that the end was near. I... I think maybe Joe had been waiting to say good-bye to his family before he was ready to pass over."
Rob closed his eyes. "My brother did not 'go gentle into that good night.' I'm glad that Joe did."
"So am I, and I need to thank you for making it happen. I'd had my head in the sand, not wanting to deal with the pain. This way, a lot of healing was done at the end."
"If there's anything I can do..."
After a moment's thought, Lucy said, "Maybe you can send me some of those pictures of Malcolm, and I'll put them in the coffin. Joe surely did love that dog."
Rob promised to develop the pictures and drop them by Monday. After offering condolences again, he signed off.
Val was watching from the doorway to the dining room, her eyes enormous. "Joe Cady is gone?"
He nodded. "At least his family was with him."
"May he rest in peace, poor fellow."
A timer rang and she moved to the stove to take the fettuccine off the heat. As she poured it through a colander, she said, "I'm glad we got that videotape when we did, and sorry he won't be available if the state's attorney's office wants to interview him."
"You think it will make a difference in the petition?"
"I don't know. Probably not." Abandoning dinner for the moment, she crossed to Rob and hugged him hard.
"What a day it's been. You need more wine and a good dinner. And next time you come, bring Malcolm. It's time he met Damocles and Lilith."
That sounded distinctly domestic. He held her close, soothed by the softness of her body against his.
But he couldn't escape thoughts of dying brothers.
* * *
After much indecision, Kendra decided it was best no to let Daniel know she was bringing Jason to the SuperMax because he might refuse to meet them. If that happened, there might not be another chance. She had lived with the prospect of Daniel's death for so many years that the looming execution didn't seem quite real. Yet every now and then, the reality that he might be killed in cold blood slammed into her gut like a hammer.
As she and Jason went through the prison security routine, she saw the system as if for the first time. Like all visitors, Jason was sobered by the atmosphere of the prison, but he was in firm control of himself. As he submitted to being searched, she asked, "You sure you want to go through this?"
"I'm sure," he said tersely.
She was glad of that. No matter how difficult this visit was, it would be better than Jason learning later that his father had died before they could meet.
They reached the visiting room and Kendra sat in the chair by the phone while Jason quietly stood by the door. After about five minutes, the prisoner's door opened and Daniel stepped inside with his escort of two guards. He sat down, smiling at Kendra as he picked up the handset on his side of the barrier. "Wasn't expectin' you, sugar."
"I have a surprise for you." She half turned and gestured at Jason.
Daniel looked across the room. Since Jason wore his air force uniform, Daniel had probably vague
ly registered his presence as a guard, but he instantly recognized his visitor when he looked into his son's face. "No! He shouldn't be here."
He jumped to his feet, knocking the chair over in his agitation. The guards instantly snapped into full alert mode.
"Don't go!" Expecting his reaction, Kendra held his gaze as she spoke swiftly. "Jason knows, Daniel, and he wants to meet you. Don't deny him the right to know his father." The words "for as long as you have left" hung unspoken in the air.
Daniel hesitated, his expression tormented but his eyes avid as he studied his son. "You broke your promise."
"I swear I didn't. By pure, weird coincidence, your old public defender has a niece in Jason's class at the academy. Murphy mentioned you and the case in an e-mail, she talked to Jason, and here he is." Her voice dropped. "Don't throw this chance away, Daniel. I think it was meant to be."
She glanced at her son. Face set, he stepped forward and took the handset, settling into the chair when she moved away. As the two men looked at each other through the plastic, she marveled at the similarities of face and build. They had identical anxious expressions, too. Choose your words carefully. Jay, or he'll bolt, too ashamed to look you in the eye.
"Hello." Jason swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. "It's... strange to discover that I have a second father."
"I can guess." Daniel's grip on the phone was pale-knuckled. "I never wanted you to see me like this."
"Mama says you're innocent, so any shame belongs to the State of Maryland." Jason's voice was stronger. "She also says maybe the sentence will be commuted."
Kendra saw one of the guards snort. Luckily, Jason missed that.
"Maybe. I'm not countin' on it." Daniel's voice was soft as a whisper. He reached toward his son, dropping his hand when it encountered the plastic. "I truly didn't want this. I've caused my family enough pain. But now that you're here, you are surely a sight for sore eyes. You were just a toddler the last time I saw you, splashin' your mama with water when you took a bath. I called you Little Bit."
A muscle jerked in Jason's jaw. "I've only known about you for a few days, yet you seem familiar," he said hesitantly. "Maybe part of me remembers from when I was a baby."
"I hope so. We had some good times together. You sure did love ridin' on my shoulder, and when I whirled you in the air. These days they say you shouldn't swing babies around like that, it might scramble their little brains, but you and I didn't know any better, and we sure did have fun." Daniel gave a rumbling chuckle. "Doesn't seem to have scrambled your brains, either. Maybe that's where you got your first taste of flyin'. But don't let's waste time talkin' about me. I want to hear about you. Tell me about the academy. I want to hear about your basketball, your classes, your military trainin', your friends. I want to hear it all."
Slowly at first, then with increasing fluency, Jason began describing his classes, the things he was learning both inside and outside the classroom, the beauty of the Rockies. Even though Kendra had relayed much of the information from Jason's e-mails, Daniel listened hungrily, absorbing every syllable.
Kendra watched the conversation with relief. She hadn't been kidding when she told Daniel that she thought this was meant to be. Sometimes when people were being stupid, God stepped in. Jason and Daniel were doing their part by moving beyond anger to deal effectively with the situation as it was. There was a similarity in how the two thought that was making it easy for them to converse. Maybe the plastic barrier between them actually helped at this stage, when they were virtual strangers even though they shared blood and bone and DNA.
Closing her eyes, she prayed that the day would come when her son and his father could actually touch each other. Hug each other. And if that day never came—well, at least they had this day.
Chapter 23
Val let her voice mail pick up the incoming call, wondering how she could ever have thought that starting her own office would mean she'd be less busy. Two days into her official occupancy of the church, she was running in circles like a tail-chasing kitten.
The previous morning she hadn't even poured coffee before receiving a phone call that one of her Crouse, Resnick cases had suddenly become hot. While Kendra pulled the files on that, a call had come in from Bill Costain, her biggest Crouse, Resnick client. Not only was he transferring much of his business to her, he had a big project that had needed discussing immediately.
She had complied, driving down to Annapolis for a waterfront lunch meeting. Not only was he a good friend and client, but most of his work was on a scale that she could handle either alone or by subcontracting to another lawyer. She needed him as a client for the financial security of her fledging legal business. But she had hardly had time to draw a deep breath, and she absolutely couldn't neglect work on Daniel's petition.
Nonetheless, it was great to have her own place, and at
Crouse, Resnick having a snoring hound in her office would have been frowned on. She glanced at the patch of sunlight that Malcolm had claimed. Since Rob was going to be out most of the day, he'd brought Malcolm downstairs. Not only was the dog pleasant, undemanding company, but now she didn't have to listen to his stubby claws tapping upstairs in Rob's apartment.
Val was reaching for another document when the doorbell rang. Kendra had taken the morning off for personal business, so Val hiked from her office to the front door herself. She made a mental note to talk to Rob about putting in a video camera and solenoid system so she could check out visitors and let them in from her desk.
Standing on her doorstep was Mia Kolski, the music teacher whose ex-husband kept taking her to court. "Hi, Val. Since I was nearby, I thought I'd drop off the documents you requested in person."
"Come on in." Feeling guilty that she hadn't been more aggressive on Mia's behalf, Val stepped aside and led the other woman to the small conference room. "Did you find anything interesting?"
"That's why I need to talk to you." Mia sat and opened her tote bag to remove a fat file. "When I contacted the army pension office to find out why I wasn't entitled to any of Steve's pension, they sent me a copy of this waiver." She handed over a photocopy.
Val studied the document. It was signed and notarized. "Is it possible Steve slipped this in without you noticing when you were signing a bunch of papers?"
"That could have happened, but it didn't. To begin with, that's not my signature. It was signed and notarized in Georgia during the time he was living in Atlanta." Mia tapped the copy of the notary seal. "I've never been in Atlanta except passing through the airport, and I sure as heck wasn't there for this notary to testify to my identity."
"Good grief, Steve forged this? And convinced a notary to witness?" With rising excitement, Val studied the signature and the seal more closely. "I suppose he could have gone to the notary with some female friend who claimed to be you. This does look more or less like your signature, though, and graphologists don't always agree on authenticity. Can you prove that you were in Maryland when this was signed?"
"Darned right I can." Mia smiled triumphantly. "That happened to be the day of the school's spring music recital. I taught in the morning, rehearsed in the afternoon, and directed the production in the evening."
"You've got witnesses who can swear to this?"
Mia nodded. "The water pipes in the girls' restroom broke and made a terrible mess that morning, and we had to scramble like mad to put the show on. The day is engraved deep in all the teachers' memories. Including your mother's, I'm sure."
Val whooped with glee. "We've got him, Mia! This is fraud, and we can prove our case. Shall we start with a threat to his lawyer saying we'll take him to court if he doesn't return your pension rights, or shall we go right to the police?"
Mia hesitated. "Steve is a jerk but I don't want to send the father of my kids to jail. I'd be willing to give up my half of the pension to get him and his sleazy lawsuits off my back. Is there some way we can use this as leverage to stop him from dragging me to court every few months?"
; Val sat back in her chair and thought about it. "I'll have to check with one of my family law friends to be sure. A lot depends on whether he wants the money more than he enjoys driving you crazy."
"He likes harassing me, but he loves money. He's making a lot more now than he did in the army, and it just makes him want even more."
"Then maybe I can draw up an agreement which you would both sign, in which he acknowledges that the waiver is fraudulent, and you promise not to press charges nor claim any pension money as long as he doesn't take you to court again. It gives him a major incentive to find other ways of getting his jollies."
"If you can get him to agree to that, it would be great!" Mia sighed blissfully. "Being able to get on with my life. What a concept."
Val jotted a note on her tablet. "I'd also want to include a clause saying that from now on, the child support will be sent automatically from his bank account. If he doesn't have to personally write that check every month, he might be less cranky about it."
Mia rose and hugged Val. "You're a genius!"
"A lawyer is only as good as the ammunition she has to work with." Val grinned. "And you just handed me a bazooka."
After Mia left, Val called and left a message for a friend who specialized in family law to find out if her plan was feasible, then returned to work on the Crouse, Resnick case. She lost track of time and was startled to realize that it was well after noon when Kendra appeared in the door of Val's office.
"Jason is here with me," Kendra said. "Do you want to say hi?"
"I'd love to." As Val moved from behind her desk, Jason followed his mother into the room. It was the first time Val had seen him since he'd entered the academy almost a year earlier, and the intervening time had filled out his muscular frame and matured him. In his uniform, he was enough to make young women swoon, and older ones draw a deep breath. "Look at you, Jason! The air force obviously agrees with you."
"It does. Nice to see you, Miss Val." He took her proffered hand briefly. "We just came from the SuperMax prison."
An Imperfect Process Page 22
