1 A Dose of Death

by Gin Jones

  She started over to the garage while Tate parked his car and got out of it.

  He nodded toward where the police cars had just turned out of her driveway. "Do I need to increase my retainer from you in anticipation of a murder charge?"

  "They still don't suspect decrepit, old me," Helen said. "They've arrested Jack. They got a tip that he's the Remote Control Burglar."

  "And they came all the way out here, just to tell you that?" he said. "They don't usually go door to door, announcing every arrest."

  "No, they came with a search warrant."

  He frowned. "You should have called me the minute they showed it to you."

  "I did," she said. "You didn't answer."

  "I'm retired. I don't turn my phone on unless I'm using it." He sighed. "I'll keep it on for the duration of the investigation into Melissa's murder. But just until then. After that, I'm definitely retired."

  "Thank you."

  "Don't thank me," he said, turning toward the garage entrance. "Just tell your niece—the one who handles your money—to expect an invoice from the firm."

  "She already knows," Helen said, following him into his work space. "I'm half expecting a visit from both girls any minute now. I had to tell them about Jack, and they didn't like it."

  "How did the cops finger Jack for the burglaries, anyway?"

  "I wondered about that myself," Helen said. "Detective Peterson told me they got an anonymous tip. They didn't have any leads, as far as I could tell, and they never would have figured it out on their own. I'm afraid Jack's going to think one of us turned him in."

  "Not me." Tate crossed the room to consider his pile of wood stock. "I haven't given up my license to practice, so I've got to abide by the ethics rules. It wouldn't look good for me to be turning in potential clients."

  "Who else knew?"

  "You'd have to ask Jack that."

  "He's going to think I turned him in." She leaned against the work table. "At least they haven't charged him with murder yet, just the burglaries. They did a search of his apartment before they came here, and they found a bunch of the stolen remote controls. They didn't find any real evidence tying him to Melissa, though. That's what they were searching for here."

  Tate turned away from the length of wood he'd been examining for flaws. "What did they think they'd find?"

  "The murder weapon."

  "I thought you said they took it away with them the day she was killed."

  "I thought so," Helen said. "They did too, originally, but it turns out the bloody branch wasn't the murder weapon. It just had some spatter."

  "Do they know what did kill Melissa?"

  "Now, they do."

  "They found the murder weapon?"

  "They found something, and it's not good news for Jack," Helen said. "They didn't know what they were looking for initially. Detective Peterson told me they were looking for something about the same size as the branch, but with a smoother surface."

  He glanced at the collection of lamp stems lined up on a shelf along the back wall. "That could describe a lot of things."

  "But they only found one thing that matched the description." Helen raised her ugly, back-up cane. "They found my other walking cane. The one I thought I'd left at your office. It was in the woods, and it had a lot of blood on it. I think they got the right weapon this time."

  "Are you sure it's your cane?" Tate said. "Lots of people use them."

  "I'm pretty sure it was mine," Helen said. "It wasn't a standard drugstore style, and the last time I saw it was before Melissa was killed."

  "That's not good." Tate stared at the garage doors, as if he could see through them.

  Helen followed his gaze, imagining Detective Peterson returning, blue lights blazing, to arrest her, having confirmed that it was indeed her cane, the blood was Melissa's, and Jack had an alibi.

  "We don't know for sure that the cane was yours," Tate said. "Maybe you just left yours somewhere. If we can find yours that would help."

  "I'd already looked everywhere," Helen said. "Adam checked your offices, and it's not there. The only other place I can remember seeing it was in the Town Car, and it isn't there any longer. No, the cane the forensics team found is mine."

  "Which means that the murder weapon is covered with your fingerprints. That could be a challenge to explain to a jury."

  "It's not my fingerprints I'm worried about," she said. "It's Jack's. I'm pretty sure he held it for me a few times while I was getting in and out of the Town Car. As long as the police refuse to consider me a suspect, if they find Jack's prints on the cane, they're going to assume Jack is the only possibility."

  "And if the police do consider you a suspect, I'll be so busy with your defense that it'll be months before I can use my new workshop again. I'm beginning to think I should have stayed in the old place. All of my other clients put together were less trouble than you are all by yourself. "

  "I did promise to make the case interesting if you had to represent me for murder."

  "From now on, just promise me you won't find any more dead bodies." Tate picked up a length of wood that he apparently deemed satisfactory, and carried it over to the lathe. "I really do want to retire before I'm eighty."

  "Don't worry," Helen said. "They're not going to arrest me. But Jack's in trouble if we can't figure out who the real murderer is. The police aren't going to be looking, not if they've got his fingerprints on the murder weapon. That would be enough to convict him, wouldn't it?"

  "There's still some room for reasonable doubt." Tate picked up his safety goggles and absently put them on top of his head. "He'd need a good lawyer, though."

  "Like you."

  Tate shook his head. "Even if I weren't retired, I couldn't do it. Conflict of interest. I'm already committed to representing you, and the best way to defend him is to throw you under the bus, as an alternative suspect to create reasonable doubt. I can't do that if I'm representing you too."

  "Then we need to make sure it doesn't come to that," Helen said. "We've got to find another suspect."

  Tate shook his head even more emphatically. "Not me. I'm staying out of it. You can do it if you want. It'll save me the trouble of having to defend you in court."

  The sound of a car entering the gravel driveway saved Helen the trouble of having to argue with him. She limped over to look out the windows of the garage door. Her latest unannounced visitors were Tate's smarter-than-he-looked nephew, who should have known better than to come out here, and Lily, who had apparently overcome Adam's better inclinations.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Helen was inclined to shut the doors and lock them up, but Tate convinced her they wouldn't leave, so they might as well get it over with. Helen followed him out to the driveway.

  Lily was out of the car before Adam could even turn off the engine. ""We heard about the arrest of your driver, and you weren't answering your phone, so I came to make sure you were okay. Laura wanted to be here, but Howie needed her at home."

  "Doesn't someone need you for anything?" Helen asked. "You've wasted a two-hour trip."

  "I was here in town, talking to Adam already."

  Grilling him, more likely.

  "I didn't tell her anything," Adam assured Helen and his uncle.

  Lily turned on Tate. "You didn't tell me you're a lawyer."

  "I'm retired," Tate said. "I prefer to call myself a woodworker now. Saves me from having to listen to a lot of bad jokes. No one ever says, 'first, kill all the woodworkers.' "

  "Once a lawyer, always a lawyer," Lily said. "What's your angle? Why are you living out here? You'd better not be trying to take advantage of my aunt."

  Tate snorted. "I'd be crazy to try. She kills anyone who annoys her."

  This time, Lily turned on her aunt. "You didn't really tell him that you killed Melissa, did you?" Lily didn't wait for an answer before turning to Adam. "You need to do something about this. Whatever my aunt said, it's covered by attorney-client privilege, right? Give me your
bank account information, and I'll have the retainer in there before you get back to the office."

  "There's no rush," Helen said. "Tate's already agreed to represent me if I'm arrested."

  Lily narrowed her eyes at Tate. "I thought you were retired."

  "I figured I'd go out on a high note. One last, sensational murder trial: governor's ex-wife on trial for brutally killing a helpless servant." Tate gestured at the garage doors. "Plus, I get a free studio out of the deal, all set up for when the trial's over."

  "Unless Aunt Helen is found guilty," Lily said. "Then the cottage, with the garage, will be sold, and you'll be evicted."

  Tate shrugged. "Just one more incentive to win. I've never had a personal stake in the outcome before."

  Lily tensed, and Adam put his arm around her. "Don't. He's just teasing you. He really is a very good lawyer. He won't let anything happen to your aunt."

  "And who's going to protect her from him?"

  "We will," Adam said. "You and me. We'll go back to my office and talk about it some more. They'll behave like rational adults if we leave them alone."

  "I don't know if we can trust them on their own," Lily said. "Neither of them noticed that Aunt Helen's been riding around town with a burglar who's probably a killer too."

  "Actually, we did notice," Helen said. "We figured out what Jack had been doing before the police did. But Jack didn't kill anyone. And he certainly wouldn't hurt me."

  "You've only known the man for a few days," Lily said. "You're a good judge of character, but even you can make mistakes. Remember that guy who applied to be your assistant, and you were all set to offer him the job until I uncovered his alias? Multiple aliases, as I recall."

  "I'm sure you also checked into the car service and Jack," Helen said. "Did you find anything worrisome?"

  "No," Lily said. "But that doesn't mean anything. He eluded the police for five years too."

  Tate spoke up, finally. "Much as it pains me to admit it, Helen's right about one thing. Jack is harmless."

  "Then the real killer is still out there," Lily said, never one to let go of a perceived problem. "What if you were the target, Aunt Helen, and he killed the nurse by mistake? He might come back and try again."

  "The security system will be up and running in the next couple days," Helen said. "And I really don't think anyone wants to kill me. Your uncle has all the enemies, not me. Once, people might have wanted to use me to get at him, but it wouldn't make sense to try that now."

  "Hunh," Tate said. "I hadn't thought about the possibility that someone from your days in the governor's mansion might have wanted to kill you. Are you sure you didn't make any enemies there? We should definitely talk about the possibilities. Without any third parties listening in. Wouldn't want to undermine the attorney-client privilege."

  Tate was brilliant, Helen thought. He'd made it appear that the best way for Lily to help was by leaving. "There are comfortable chairs on the back deck. We can go there and chat in private."

  "Come on," Adam said, tugging Lily toward the car. "They have things to discuss."

  "Have you had lunch yet?" she asked Tate as they headed for the back deck. "I'm sure I've got some cold cuts in the fridge."

  Tate looked longingly at the garage doors before following her. "I could eat."

  Helen went inside and threw together a pile of ham and cheese sandwiches. She tossed them onto a plate, along with a bag of paper napkins. Tate met her at the back door and took everything from her. She went back for a couple bottles of lemonade. By then Adam's car had disappeared down the driveway, and they no longer had to pretend to be talking about lawyer-client material.

  Helen decided she ought to let Tate finish his sandwich before she grilled him for ideas about how to save Jack.

  Tate had only finished half of his sandwich before he said, "Well? Who might have wanted to kill you?"

  "No one. I just wanted Lily and Adam to leave, so we could do something more useful, like figure out why someone would kill Melissa."

  "That's not my job," Tate said. "If we're not going to talk about the risk to you, I'm going back to the garage."

  Helen set down her lemonade bottle with an irritated thud. "There's no risk to me."

  "I'm not so sure Lily's wrong," Tate said. "There must be at least a few people who are still harboring a grudge against you for decisions you made in the governor's mansion. Invitations that weren't issued, events that weren't attended, dresses that weren't complimented."

  He wasn't going to give up. She picked up her lemonade again and picked at the paper label while she considered the people she might have slighted. They did exist; it wasn't possible to please everyone at every event for twenty years. She knew she'd been called a few names and been trashed behind her back. On the occasions when she'd heard about the complaints, she'd been upset, and she'd lost quite a few nights' sleep. But that was back when it happened. Now, though? She couldn't remember any of the specific incidents, and the trash-talkers probably couldn't either. "I wasn't involved in anything that was worth killing for."

  "You might be surprised at what people will kill over," Tate said. "Your supposed motive for killing Melissa is that she asked you to take a nap. Compared to that, just about anything that happened at the governor's mansion is a more persuasive motive."

  "Okay, so maybe there were a few hurt feelings back then," Helen said. "But I've been gone from public life for almost two years now. If anyone had wanted to kill me, they'd have done it before I moved here instead of waiting until I left the city."

  "Maybe they couldn't get to you there," Tate said. "You probably had all sorts of security in place before you moved here."

  "Your theory is that someone's been obsessing for years, because I didn't invite him to a boring chicken dinner, where he'd have the chance to contribute his money to my husband's campaign? And he's been waiting all this time for his chance to kill me? And then he botched it so badly that he killed someone else?"

  Tate shrugged. "Reasonable doubt. That's all we'd need at trial."

  "No one is trying to kill me," she said, not bothering to hide her irritation.

  "Then who killed Melissa?" Tate said. "If it wasn't you, and it wasn't someone trying to kill you, then you've got to admit that Jack really is the most likely culprit."

  "Jack didn't do it." Helen took out her frustration on her lemonade bottle again, thumping it down on the table. Maybe if she repeated herself often enough, someone would listen to her. "Jack didn't do it. He doesn't have any motive. He believes in revenge, but only at a tit for tat level. He never did anything to his passengers that was worse than what they'd done to him. If he'd gone after Melissa, it would have been on the nuisance level, not something as disproportionate as murder."

  Tate frowned suddenly. "Is that what you're worried about? That Jack did, in fact, kill Melissa, not for himself but for you? You think he was trying to protect you, and you feel responsible?"

  "I am responsible," Helen said. "I should have made a bigger fuss the first day, and gotten rid of Melissa then, before she'd really settled in. Or I could have gotten over my pride in my independence and lied to the judge about being afraid, so she'd grant the restraining order. Then no one would have been hurt."

  Tate shook his head. "Never, ever tell your lawyer you're willing to commit perjury."

  "It wouldn't have been a total lie," Helen confessed. "Toward the end, Melissa really did scare me."

  "I know."

  "Well, then," Helen said briskly. "You'll understand why I feel responsible for Jack getting the best defense possible. That means you'll have to do it."

  "Sorry, still a conflict of interest." He picked up the second half of his sandwich and set about finishing it as if their conversation was done.

  "I could waive the conflict, couldn't I?" Helen said. "At least temporarily. You just have to keep him out of trouble until we figure out who really killed Melissa. Then there won't be a trial involving either one of us."

 
; Tate finished the rest of his sandwich before answering. "The waiver would only work if it's absolutely clear that you've both considered all the possible risks. What if I managed to get Jack out on bail, and it turns out he really did kill Melissa? He might come after you next."

  "Jack wouldn't hurt me," Helen said. "He had no reason even to steal my remote controls and no reason to be here the morning Melissa was killed. He didn't drop by unless I scheduled a ride, and I hadn't done that. Besides, he told me he didn't kill her, and I believe him. You should ask him for yourself."

  "You don't really expect him to confess to me, do you?" Tate said. "I've never, ever had a client, no matter how blatantly guilty, confess to me. And if Jack turned out to be the exception, you'd never know, because I couldn't tell you. Attorney-client confidentiality."

  "You could if he agreed."

  "But then you'd have to testify to his confession, and I'd have blown any chance at a defense," Tate said. "I'm too good an attorney to do that, even if my client were foolish enough to let me."

  "I need to do something," Helen said. "I can't let Jack get railroaded. None of this would have happened to him if he hadn't been working for me."

  "Why not leave the investigation to the police?"

  "They're too slow," Helen said. "I want to settle into a nice, peaceful retirement, and that won't happen until the right person is arrested for Melissa's murder. I've got to find that person. Betty and Josie think Melissa might have had a boyfriend that her boss didn't know about, but I thought they were just making it up. I didn't realize it then, but I was as bad as the police in assuming they didn't know anything. If you won't help me find Melissa's killer, maybe they will."

  "Good luck," Tate said, picking up his empty plate and her abandoned one to take them into the kitchen for her. "I'll be in the workshop if you need me to get you out of jail. Just remember, if you get arrested for interfering in the investigation, don't say anything except that you want to talk to your lawyer."

  It figured, Helen thought. Whenever she actually wanted some help, there were no volunteers.