“Not much better. A couple of them are drunks and they’re all living off of social security disability scams and what little they managed to save.”
“They should have invested and saved more when they were sponging off of Wendell,” Mackenzie said.
“Mrs. Sutherland,” Travis continued, “There’s something else. My source told me this Coolidge guy has a picture of you from Chicago and one from St. Paul. I don’t know what he knows or what he’ll do with it but I thought you would want to know.”
“I see, yes, that is interesting,” Mackenzie said. “Anything else?”
“No, ma’am. That’s all I have. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open and let you know if anything comes up.”
“Should I send the usual amount?” Mackenzie asked.
“That would be very kind, very generous,” Travis answered.
“Thank you, Lou,” Mackenzie said and ended the call.
Mackenzie placed the small flip phone back in her purse. Thinking about the phone call she went into the kitchen, poured herself a glass of ice water and took a seat at the breakfast bar. While she sipped the water she stared out the kitchen window wondering what she could do.
“Probably not much you can do about it,” she quietly said to herself.
Mackenzie picked up her iPhone from the countertop and dialed a number. It was answered before the second ring.
“Hi,” Marc said. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Mackenzie answered. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because people don’t call lawyers unless they have a problem.”
“You’re right,” she said playfully. “I do have a problem. I want someone, you, to take me to dinner.”
“Okay, I can do that.”
“I want a cheeseburger and fries. And I want a pitcher of beer. I’d kill for a good burger. You know a place? I haven’t had a good, greasy cheeseburger in years.”
“Yeah,” Marc said with a laugh. “I know a place.”
“And I’m wearing jeans and sneakers,” Mackenzie said.
“No top?” Marc asked.
Mackenzie laughed and said, “You think they’d serve us if I was showing off the girls?”
“It’s okay with me. I’ll pick you up at 6:00.”
Mackenzie set the phone down and a warm glow went through her. It was something she had not felt in many years and caused her to smile.
“God, I feel like I’m a teenager getting ready for a first date with a boy I really like.”
Marc arrived promptly at 6:00 and drove the two of them to a locally owned restaurant in South Minneapolis. It was located on Lyndale a couple blocks south of Lake Street. It was also within walking distance of Marc’s office. Because it was a Friday evening, the place was very busy, mostly for the bar area. The wait for a table was less than ten minutes. The college-age waitress, a pretty blonde, was at the table in less than a minute and took their orders.
“Why is she wearing a Green Bay Packer shirt?” Mackenzie asked.
Marc leaned on the table and said, “Look around, they’re all wearing Packer shirts. During football season, this is a Packer bar.”
“I hate the Packers,” Mackenzie said. “I’ve always been a Vikings fan.”
“That’s because you’re a sensible person and do not need therapy,” Marc said. “Last year, during the playoffs, I was in here with a couple of friends who are Packer fans watching them play Seattle. The Seahawks did everything they could to lose that game…”
“I remember, I saw it,” Mackenzie said.
“This place was jammed to the walls. Because we’re so close to Wisconsin, there are a lot of Packer fans in the Cities.
“Anyway, the place was going nuts. They all thought Green Bay was going to the Super Bowl and win it. Then the Seahawks started kicking their ass and came back and won.”
“In overtime,” Mackenzie added. “I jumped up and cheered.”
“Yeah, it was great. The place went dead quiet. I had all I could do not to rub it in. Of course, I would have been taking my life in my hands but it was enjoyable watching the place go from crazy to dead quiet.”
The waitress brought a pitcher of house beer that Marc warned Mackenzie about. It was barely drinkable but they were having such a nice time neither cared.
Between eating their burgers and drinking the beer, they had a pleasant evening talking about anything and everything except Mackenzie’s legal situation. A few minutes before 10:00, Mackenzie reached across the table and took Marc’s hand.
“Since I don’t have any legal problems you’re handling, what do you say we go back to my place?”
“I suppose technically I’m not your lawyer so, yeah, sounds like a plan.”
The next morning Marc was sitting at the kitchen’s breakfast bar in a T-shirt and jeans. Mackenzie, wrapped in a fluffy white, terry cloth robe poured them each more coffee and handed Marc’s cup to him.
“I could always claim you drugged me and took advantage of me,” Marc said.
“You were pretty cooperative,” Mackenzie said with a laugh.
“I like your laugh. You need to laugh more.”
“I will,” Mackenzie said turning serious. “When I get through all of this and put it behind me. Will you help me do that?”
“My pleasure,” Marc said.
NINETEEN
“Judge Sendejo is on vacation for the entire month of July?” Heather Anderson incredulously said into her office telephone. “Must be nice.”
It was almost 11:00 Monday morning and she was talking to a clerk in the Ramsey County Clerk’s office. Sendejo had made it clear that any motion to exhume Bill Sutherland would be assigned to him. Anderson was calling the clerk’s office to schedule a hearing toward the end of July. It occurred to her that, since Sendejo was going to be gone, she could schedule it with a different judge. If Sendejo found out when he came back, she would deal with that then.
“How about Miriam Nagel? Is she available the week of July twenty-seventh?”
“Let me check,” the clerk said.
Heather could hear the keyboard clicking while the clerk did her search. Someone knocked on her door. Anna Finney’s head appeared through it and Heather silently motioned Anna and Max to come in.
“How about Monday, the twenty-seventh?” Anderson said while holding her right index finger to her guests while they say down. “Ten o’clock? That’s fine,” Heather said. “Block out two hours for us.”
She listened for a moment then said, “Thanks, Carol.”
Heather ended the call then turned her attention to Anna and Max.
“Thanks for coming. I’ve talked to my boss and she okayed taking a shot at exhuming old man Sutherland,” Heather told them.
“Yes,” Max said with a slight fist pump.
“The twenty-seventh? Why wait until then?” Anna asked.
“We have to serve the paperwork on Mackenzie Sutherland this week to give her time to respond. I’ll have them delivered to her lawyer at the same time.”
“Do you want me to do it?” Max eagerly asked.
“No, I’ll have our process servers do it. This weekend is the Fourth. I’ll be gone Friday the third through Monday the sixth. I’ll have them served on Friday. That way Kadella won’t be able to get a hold of me until Tuesday. It will give him a few days to calm down.” Plus, I’ll have it leaked to the media for the Tuesday morning news, Heather thought.
“Or make him madder because he can’t find you right away,” Anna said.
“What, so you care how mad he gets?” Max asked.
“I don’t. I’m just going to jerk his chain a little bit,” Heather said.
“Do we have enough?” Anna asked.
“Maybe,” Heather shrugged. “We’ll see. Judge Sendejo is on vacation so I scheduled it in front of a more prosecutor friendly judge, Miriam Nagel. That won’t hurt. In the meantime, if you can find anything else…”
“How about a search warrant?” Max asked.
&nbs
p; “We aren’t even close to having grounds for that,” Heather replied. “One step at a time.”
Mackenzie drove her BMW 750 into the garage and parked it. Before getting out, she pushed the button to lower the garage door. While driving up the street she noticed an older model Ford parked across from her house. The car looked clearly out of place which is why it caught her attention.
Mackenzie was returning from an hour at the hair salon having her hair done, a manicure and pedicure. Having money was a lot nicer than not having money she liked to remind herself.
It was almost 11:00 A.M. Friday morning and she was almost school-girl-giddy at the prospect of a long weekend with Marc. Between the death of Bill Sutherland and the reunion with Marc, she was beginning to think a normal life might be available to her after all.
The front doorbell chimed and somehow she got the sense that this was not good news. Mackenzie opened the door to find a young man there dressed in slacks, a white shirt and cheap, hideous tie.
“Mackenzie Sutherland?” he asked.
It was the way he asked it, almost formally, that made Mackenzie realize what was coming.
“Yes,” she said as she put out her right hand.
“This is for you,” he said and handed her the envelope.
For a brief moment, Mackenzie thought about saying something rude. Realizing he was only doing his job, she smiled weakly and thanked him instead.
Back in the kitchen she opened the envelope and removed the documents. She tipped it upside down and two photos fell out onto the counter. Staring back at her were the two pictures of her; one from Chicago and one from St. Paul.
Mackenzie spent the next ten minutes browsing through the papers. When she finished she picked up her phone and made a call.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Sutherland, Marc’s in trial this morning. He thought he would be done by noon,” she heard Sandy tell her.
“Ask him to call me as soon as he gets back, please,” Mackenzie politely said.
After ending the call Mackenzie quietly said to herself, “That’s something I need to talk to Marc about. I need to get my name changed. I hate being called Sutherland.”
Less than an hour after Mackenzie left a message for Marc to call, just before noon, her phone rang. She looked at the ID and with a feeling of dread, answered it.
“Hi,” she nervously said.
“So, I got back from court and an envelope was waiting for me with some very interesting things in it,” Marc said.
“They served you, too?”
“Yeah, she did. I think we need to talk. Have you had lunch?”
“No, I’m not hungry.”
“You need to eat. I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes.”
“Okay. Marc?” she said.
“Yeah?”
“Are you mad at me?”
“No,” he sincerely lied. “Besides, I’m a lawyer. We’re not allowed to get mad at their clients.”
“Is that what I am now, a client?”
“Mac,” Marc softly said. “Relax. I’ll see you in a little bit. We’ll talk then.”
While Mackenzie waited for him, she reflected on their conversation. She was genuinely upset and concerned that Marc would be angry. It was a feeling Mackenzie had not had for a very long time; worried about what someone else felt.
The two of them ordered lunch in a chain restaurant, seafood place. It was located in a suburb east of St. Paul and for a Friday lunch, it was not very busy. They had a booth in the back out of earshot of the other patrons. Marc had decided to wait until they were at the restaurant before talking about Mackenzie’s latest problem. The drive, a little awkward because of that, was made mostly in silence. Mackenzie felt like a little kid in school waiting to be scolded.
“I scanned over the motion pleadings and got the general idea of what’s going on,” Marc calmly began. “Have you read through them?”
“Yes,” Mackenzie quietly replied.
Marc removed the two photos from his inside coat pocket, placed them side-by-side on the table facing Mackenzie and said, “Mackenzie, I have to know the truth: Is that you?”
She hesitated for a moment then said, “Yes, that’s me when I was living in Chicago. It was years ago and yes, I was married to Wendell Cartwright and he also died of a heart attack. Forty-five years of drugs, booze, women and partying can do that. I did not kill him and I did not kill Bill Sutherland. If nothing else,” she continued as she reached across the table, took both of Marc’s hands in hers and with a pleading sincere look, said, “I want you to believe that, please.”
Without hesitation, Marc looked her in the eye, squeezed her hands and said, “Don’t worry, I do.”
Relieved, Mackenzie sat back, visibly sighed and quietly said, “Thank you.”
“Why Frances? Why were you using the name Frances?” Marc asked.
“It’s my middle name and my mom’s name. Did you know she died?”
“No.”
“When I was nineteen; breast cancer. I was very close to her. My dad was a bit of a drunk actually. He got a lot worse after mom died. We didn’t get along and I finally moved to Chicago. I met Wendell at a party and to be honest, I found out he was rich and I was tired of struggling. I know this sounds awful and makes me out to be a gold-digging slut, but I went after him. He was pleasant and charming and very nice to me. He really loved me as much as Wendell could. No one, and I do mean no one, was surprised when his heart gave out.”
“What about the money? Did you know he had left everything to you?”
“Of course,” Mackenzie answered him. “I honestly did not know Bill Sutherland did, but I knew Wendell had. He had no use for his children. If you ever meet them you’ll know why and it delighted him to know he was going to stick it to his ex-wives.
“When I met Bill Sutherland, I had more money than he did. Where’s my motive? Why did I kill Bill? I could have easily divorced him and we would just go our separate ways.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“I wasn’t especially proud of myself,” she shrugged and looked down at the table top. “Wendell was actually a sweet man. He was just weak. He died and made me rich. If anyone had a motive to kill Bill it was his kids. They ought to look at Paige. That greedy, conniving bitch could do it.”
“Okay,” Marc said. “What about this motion to exhume Bill Sutherland?”
“I don’t know,” Mackenzie shrugged. “Part of me wants to say ‘screw it’ and let them do it. But I’m more inclined to fight it. I hate the thought of giving Paige what she wants.”
“This has become a little personal between the two of you.”
“There was no love lost, that’s for sure. From what I was told there was no love lost between her and Bill’s first wife, Bob’s mother, Elizabeth.
“I’m serious about looking at Paige for killing Bill, if he was killed. They were living far beyond Bob’s means and she comes from money. I’m sure she’d love to get her hands on the Sutherland money.”
“I tried calling Heather Anderson,” Marc said, “the lawyer handling this. She’s out until Tuesday which is why she served you on the Friday before the Fourth.”
Mackenzie leaned forward again, took Marc’s hand and with her best seductress look asked, “Does this mean our weekend is off now that you’re my lawyer again?”
Marc smiled, rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling and replied, “Well, we haven’t really established that yet. So, what do you say we wait with that until Tuesday?”
TWENTY
“Come in,” Heather Anderson loudly said in response to a knock on her office door. Her guest entered and took a chair in front of her desk. It was the Tuesday morning after the Fourth of July weekend. Her visitor, Justin Baker, was a lawyer in the county attorney’s civil division. Justin also fancied himself quite the ladies man and any day he expected Heather to let him into her bed. This made Justin easy for Heather to manipulate.
“How did it go?” Heather asked.
>
“No problem,” Justin said. “I met that chick from Channel 10, Cindy Amundson, and leaked it to her. She’s a little hot for me so, no problem.”
Heather inwardly bristled a bit when he referred to a professional woman as a chick. When he made the comment about her being hot for him she thought: tell me again how you made it through law school.
“Why didn’t we get it out on Friday?” Justin asked.
“It’s a holiday weekend,” Heather answered. “People don’t pay much attention to the news on holiday weekends. It will get a lot more air time and attention during the week, especially in the summer. What did this Amundson woman say when you gave it to her?”
“She was hot for it,” Justin replied. “She begged me to go on camera with her but I wouldn’t.”
“You made sure you told her she couldn’t use your name, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, yeah, no problem. She said she would say a source close to the investigation.”
“Good, now we should see a little media heat on Mackenzie Sutherland,” Heather said.
Marc Kadella heard Carolyn call his name through his open office door. Curious, he went into the office’s common area to find out what she wanted. When he got there he saw both secretaries, Sandy and Carolyn and the paralegal, Jeff Modell, huddled around the radio behind their desks.
“What?” Marc asked.
Carolyn held up her left index finger to quiet him then used it to indicate he should join them. When he got there whatever they were listening to was finished. All three of the office staff turned to him.
“The guy on the radio just reported that Channel 10 had the story about Mackenzie and old man Sutherland,” Carolyn told him. “The phone will probably start ringing any minute.”
While Carolyn was telling Marc this, Sandy used the remote to turn on the television. She quickly changed the channel to 10. A promo was being aired giving viewers a hint of the breaking story about the investigation into Bill Sutherland’s death. The hook was that the authorities have reason to believe he was poisoned and are going to exhume the body for a more thorough autopsy. Before the thirty second promo ended, the phone rang.
Marc Kadella Legal Mysteries Vol 1-6 (Marc Kadella Series) Page 195
