My palms dampened and I swallowed. My God, go to trial within the next four weeks?
“Naturally, I would order that expedited discovery be invoked, shortening the normal due dates. Any problems?”
Jared shook his head. “None whatsoever, Judge. So long as the court is lenient about the order of witnesses on such short notice, the State can be ready.”
Sure he could be. After all, he had at his disposal a large staff to help cover.
Carling was right. Jared Manning was a weasel.
“Ms. Rochelle?”
“I’ll need to speak to my client first, Judge.” Good. My voice was cool and steady.
“Of course. Do so and get back to me by four today.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
The judge rose and swept out of the chambers. Jared winked, grabbed his briefcase and sauntered from the room.
I stared blankly at the wall. If my client agreed to an expedited docket, I could be defending my first murder trial in a matter of weeks with insufficient discovery done.
Talk about trial by fire.
“Do it,” ordered Lloyd.
I sank into the chair opposite my client in the small conference room. “Lloyd, do you understand what you’re giving up?” I’d been shocked at the change in his appearance. With every passing day he grew more gaunt, as if being imprisoned was sapping away his very essence.
“The slight chance you may find evidence to exonerate me? Highly unlikely, don’t you think?”
Alarmed by the defeated tone in his voice, I leaned forward. “Right now the State’s case is all circumstantial. No gun in your collection matched the bullet that killed Grace. Everything is rumors and innuendos.”
“Then it shouldn’t matter whether we go to trial in five or one hundred days.”
I opened my mouth to explain, but Lloyd held up his hand.
“Katherine, I can’t afford to wait this out. Either you clear my name or you don’t. But I can’t stay in a jail cell one day longer. Meredith isn’t doing well with the strain.”
He clasped his hands on top of the table. “I need finality.”
I released the breath I’d been holding. “Are you sure?”
He nodded. “Quite.”
Removing a document from my case folder, I pushed it across the table. “Then I need you to read and sign this waiver, stating that you understand the rights you are giving up by demanding a speedy trial.”
He took the pen I handed him and began writing.
With every stroke, reality set in. At this juncture I would be trying a murder case on a song and a prayer.
Weeks passed without incident but also without any new evidence coming to light. Depositions of the restoration committee and staff only solidified their prior statements. Gabe dug into their backgrounds without finding any earth-shattering impeachment information. His main purpose seemed to be to get under my skin. If he wasn’t calling me, he was text-messaging me. If he wasn’t in the office, he was appearing on my doorstep.
I didn’t get mad. I got even. I made him do what most men hate: wear a tux.
Palm Beach’s elite, dressed in their designer best, filled The Breakers Venetian Ballroom to capacity. Men wore various versions of black tuxedos while women preened like peacocks in haute couture’s latest. Here and there clusters of non-island attendees stood self-consciously in their off-the-rack dresses along with their dates.
Long lines at drink stations interspersed along the room’s perimeter kept bartenders in white captain jackets busy. The orchestra played a mixture of swing, Broadway and dance tunes on a raised platform by the ocean-side bank of windows. A few of the more outgoing couples were already twirling on the designated dance floor under the glittering lights of the enormous chandeliers.
I sipped chilled champagne from a crystal flute while I studied the crowd. From the ogling glances of the men in the immediate vicinity, I knew I’d scored a bull’s-eye with my dress. Designed by the hottest New York City designer this past season, the strapless gown was a simple column of shimmering azure silk. My hair swept up in a French twist served to keep attention on the dress. My only jewelry was a pair of stiletto earrings, a marquise-cut ring, and a cuff bracelet—all diamonds, of course. A small beaded bag in the shape of a butterfly kept my basic essentials of lipstick, comb, cell phone and a clip of folded bills.
Silk, diamonds and champagne. What more could a woman ask for in such gorgeous surroundings?
Then I saw the broad shoulders of a man cutting a swath in the crowd and knew what else I was beginning to want: a man.
People weren’t stepping aside because Gabe was drop-dead gorgeous in a tux or because they thought he was a celebrity. Nope, from their measured glances, they were getting out of the way because of his ill-concealed scowl.
Just like a man. Throwing a major snit because I had cajoled him into being where he didn’t want to be. Actually, I amended, I had ordered him into coming.
Gabe halted before me and proceeded to take his sweet time in scanning the length of my body. His intent was to be obnoxious, but my skin heated under his gaze so that I barely resisted the urge to fan myself. However, two could play this sexual mating game. I tilted a hip, rested my hand and purse on it, and inspected him as I sipped the champagne to moisten my dry mouth.
Yum. Definitely a ten on the eye-candy scale. Gabe’s fitted tux definitely wasn’t a rental. A former cop who owned his own tailored evening clothes. Impressive. He’d passed on the current preference for tunic shirts and wore the traditional black silk tie and crisp white shirt, which contrasted oh-so-nicely with his dark looks. Light glinted off the subtle gold cuff links and the diamond he wore in his left lobe.
“When did you get your ear pierced?” I demanded. No way I would’ve missed that detail before.
Gabe’s smile was downright piratical. All he needed to complete the picture was long hair tied back. “I had a little free time this afternoon so I went with a whim. Don’t worry,” he winked, “I don’t have any urge to raid your jewelry box.”
He reached out and with a light touch sent my earring swaying. “I love the way those show off that elegant neck of yours.”
I flushed. “My neck? Elegant?”
“Like a princess.”
Princess. That word forever and a day had been tainted by my former husband. I stiffened.
“I can see the chill in your eyes.” Gabe lowered his hand to cup my shoulder. “What did I say to piss you off?”
“Katherine.”
Spinning, I found Hilary and Colin behind us. Colin looked at Gabe with unconcealed curiosity, but Hilary’s very pointed glare at Gabe’s hand could have cut a lesser man’s arm off at the wrist. I stepped away from Gabe.
“Uncle Colin, Aunt Hilary,” I murmured as I pressed a light kiss to both their cheeks. “You look very striking tonight.”
“Didn’t you bring a wrap?” Hilary asked.
“I’m not cold, not in this crush.”
“I think you look gorgeous, sweetheart, like a fairy-tale princess.” Colin beamed.
Just slap a tiara on top of my head, but I knew Colin meant well and, as he had done his entire life, was placing himself between his wife and me. “Thank you, Uncle Colin.”
“Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?” Hilary continued to examine Gabe.
“Certainly. This is—”
“Gabriel Chavez,” Gabe interrupted, smoothly taking my uncle’s hand and shaking it. “I’m a work associate of Kate’s.”
I rolled my eyes. Not even Carling dared to call me Kate in my aunt’s presence.
“Her name is Katherine.”
Gabe flashed an irrepressible grin. “And a lovely name it is, but don’t you think Kate suits the woman she’s become?”
“No.”
One thing about Hilary. She sure knew how to put a stopper in any conversation. “I wasn’t aware the girls had taken on a male attorney in the firm.”
“The women still rule the fi
rm. I’m the private investigator they use.”
“Oh really.” Hilary shot me a look. “Weren’t you with the police department?”
“In my former life I was a detective.”
“Fired, weren’t you?”
“Made front-page news,” Gabe agreed cheerfully.
“Your family’s from Cuba, correct?”
“That’s right.” Although Gabe’s voice remained pleasant, his expression became guarded.
“Chavez.” Hilary arched a brow. “Does your family run the restaurant on Southern Boulevard?”
“Yes.”
“Humph.”
The single-word expression held classic Hilary disdain. The conversation had nowhere to go but downhill. If she held true to her course, she’d next be implying that Gabe had no right to be here. Hilary’s sense of class had never changed with the times. She believed Palm Beach belonged to the elite.
I had to intervene before she said something that I would regret.
“Gabe.” I placed a hand on his forearm. He looked at me. I could see dark storms raging in his eyes. He knew damn well Hilary’s intent was to put him down.
“Would you please get me a seltzer with lime? The heat in here is making me thirsty.”
I could see his silent debate. To stand and defend his family or go in response to my unspoken plea for no scene.
“Sure. Can I get anything for you, Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes?”
“No, we’re set for now, Gabe.” Colin smiled with relief. “I’m going to steal my niece for a dance while you’re gone.”
Gabe nodded and made his way to the nearest drink station.
“Really, Katherine. Bringing someone like that as your escort.”
The band began to play a slow dance tune. “Excuse me, dear, but they’re playing the one song I think I can manage to dance to. Come on, Katherine.”
We joined others on the dance floor and Colin tucked my hand in his. “That was a close call.”
“Thanks, Uncle Colin.”
“Anytime. By the way, I like your young man. Something very solid about him.”
“We’re only business associates.”
“Really? I suspect Gabriel has something more on his mind by the way he looks at you.”
Flustered, I looked back at where we had left Hilary. I didn’t want Gabe to have to fence with her while we were gone.
With a start, I saw my ex-husband, in a white tuxedo jacket standing close to her, talking.
“Uncle Colin, she’s with Juan.”
“Yes, they’ve actually become friendly during the restoration. He attends some of the same meetings and they got to talking. I’m afraid it’s too late in terms of what happened to your marriage, but it gives me hope.”
“Hope for what?”
“That she’ll learn to accept others so that when you do meet someone else, like your private investigator, she’ll accept him with open arms into the family.”
“Open arms? That’ll be the day.”
“Hilary’s not a bad person, darling. She’s had a hard life.
“Money, prestige, family. That’s a tough life.”
“Not everything is about the tangible. She’s had a rough go of it in the emotional department.”
True, my aunt’s parents had been cold, loveless people. What little love they had in them they expended on Jonathan. Hilary had tried everything to win their respect, even competed on the Olympics team, but they didn’t bother to attend the games. Bit by bit, whatever soft emotions she had were covered up behind a tough veneer.
“Then when Jonathan disappointed his parents, going into public service by becoming a judge,” Colin continued, “Hilary stepped in, overseeing the family’s holdings. It wasn’t what she wanted to do with her life, but it was what she had to do.
“The family name. That’s what drives her, gives her life value. If you can understand that, Katherine, then you can go a long way to forgiving her.”
“And what about you, Uncle Colin? Do you have enough love?”
His shoulder moved underneath my hand. “I have what I deserve. That’s enough for me.”
The song ended. For a moment, I stood looking at the sad, resigned man who had been my buffer for all of my life. Had I ever thanked him? I gave him a hug. “I love you.”
“Thank you, my dear. I love you, too.” He held out his arm. “I see your young man with your drink standing over by the window. Let me escort you to him.”
When we reached Gabe, Colin flashed a smile and left. Gabe handed me a glass of water. “Who’s the guy your aunt is falling all over? I had the distinct impression that she’d shun anyone with dark skin color unless it came from a sunlamp.”
“You would’ve been right except according to my uncle, she’s actually become friendly with my ex.”
“So that’s the infamous ex-husband. What’s he doing here?”
“His construction company was the one brought in to help meet the deadline.”
“And you didn’t think that detail important enough to tell me?”
“That it was my ex? No. The only germane fact was the name of the company.”
“I just love it when you go Palm Beach on me,” he murmured as he lifted my hand and pressed his lips to my knuckles.
The tingle zipped all the way to my Christian Dior pink nail-polished toes.
“Don’t you think it’s peculiar your aunt and ex have formed a liaison after all these years?”
“Very.”
“Do you want me to rough him up a bit?”
“Why?”
“For hurting you.”
A different type of warmth unfurled deep within me. “No, but thank you. I may have different plans for you and Juan, depending how tonight goes.”
“So what now?”
“We split up and work the crowd.”
“What are we looking for?”
“The man who, according to Peter Robbins, Grace was so anxious to see tonight.”
Two hours later my feet ached from being trampled on during a dance with Derek Jones, and I still didn’t have a clue as to Grace’s targeted subject. I had spoken with a number of contributors and government officials but had gleaned very little new information.
“May I have this dance with the room’s most beautiful woman?”
“Paul! I didn’t know you were here!” I beamed with joy at my godfather.
“I got here a short while ago. I had a function to attend before this.” He led me onto the dance floor.
“I don’t know how you do it.” I searched his face, noting the faint lines of fatigue. “You look tired.”
His lips curved. “I am, but the alternative would be to rattle around my house.”
Sympathy filled me. Paul’s wife had died from cancer three years ago, and his children had long ago moved on with their lives.
“I heard you had some trouble that day I saw you in the old courthouse. Are you all right?”
Startled, I shot a look at where my aunt and uncle stood talking to another bored-looking couple.
“No,” said Paul with a smile. “I haven’t told them you were attacked in the courthouse garage, and I doubt if they read the police blotter in the local news.”
My tension eased. “I’m fine.”
“I understand your drive to defend Lloyd, but don’t you think you should leave the investigation to that Chavez fellow?”
“You don’t miss a trick, do you?”
“Not when it comes to my favorite goddaughter.”
“Your only goddaughter,” I teased.
“All the more reason you’re precious to me.”
Maybe Paul was the one I could talk to about my grandfather.
“Paul, do you believe my grandfather was in with the mob?”
His mouth tightened. “Of course not. What brought that on?”
“All the connections to him in this case.”
“What connections?”
“The fact that Grace Roberts was collecting his memo
rabilia for the museum, that she was murdered in his chambers.”
“She was also working on other judicial memorabilia, honey. In fact she was putting together my collection.”
“Oh, I hadn’t realized that.”
“The room bearing my name is also going to be on the fourth floor. It’s just a coincidence, Katherine, nothing more.”
“But what was Granddad like?”
“He was a man of honor and principle, unbending in fact. More than likely some criminal he had sent to jail killed him.”
“But what about Grandmother?”
“She probably was at the wrong place at the wrong time.” His hand tightened on mine. “They loved each other very much. They would’ve wanted to be together in death, remember that.”
I fought back a sudden lump in my throat.
“Thanks, Paul. No one will ever talk about them to me.”
“You remind me so much of Jonathan. That same quest for justice. Someday soon let’s get together for dinner and I’ll bore you with my reminiscing about the good old days.”
“I’d like that very much.”
The music ended and we walked off the dance floor. “In the meantime, I want you to be careful. I can’t lose my only godchild.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“Good.” Paul kissed my cheek. “Now I must circulate.”
“Of course.”
After Paul left me, I realized I was by the ocean side of the room. I began to wind my way to the bar. As I reached the bank of windows, someone gripped my elbow.
“You think you’re so much better than everyone else, just like he did.”
Maybe in court I had to be respectful, but this was my turf. I twisted around. “Judge Winewski, I suggest you let go of me. Now.”
Although his evening clothes were immaculate, the judge’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes held a wild expression. When he lowered his head to me, I could smell alcohol on his breath. Oh brother, he’d had one too many. I had never heard any rumors of him having a substance-abuse problem, but he wouldn’t be the first judge. I glanced around but saw no one I knew in the immediate vicinity. I was on my own.
Since Winewski hadn’t removed his hand, he obviously needed further persuasion. Rolling my diamond ring facet-side down, I gripped his hand so that the stone ground into his flesh. He cursed but released me. “You stinking bitch!”
Courting Danger Page 11
