by Anna Burke
“Jessica, don’t be sorry. I guess I was sort of angry and ashamed about the way Roger and I were both behaving. I kept hoping we’d get through this, telling myself it just had to get better, you know?” Laura asked, as she sat up and straightened her shoulders.
“Oh I do know. I did the same thing, ignored a lot of things I should have paid attention to. I just couldn’t face it until I had no other choice. I didn’t give you a chance to talk about yourself lately, Laura whether you were ready or not.” That was an understatement. Jessica couldn’t remember the last time she’d inquired about Laura’s life in more than a perfunctory way. Jessica wasn’t sure what she might have been able to do if Laura had disclosed more about her marriage and financial troubles, but she had missed an opportunity to help her friend. She wasn’t going to let that happen again.
“So Laura, when did you get home?” Jessica asked as calmly as she could.
“It was still early but getting light outside, about six this morning,” she said. “I was hoping I’d get home before Roger woke up. I thought I’d just go to sleep in the guest room. We’d been fighting so much lately, I didn’t think I could take it if he asked a lot of questions. I felt so guilty about Eric. I hoped Roger would get up and go somewhere so I could put off talking to him until dinner time.”
“Laura, tell me what happened when you got home. Take your time, and tell me everything you can remember.”
“I was pretty hung over, tired, sad, and so ashamed. I really wasn’t paying attention to much, trying to be as quiet as I could so I wouldn’t wake Roger, if he was there. Since he didn’t answer the phone when I called last night, I thought he might have gotten really fed up and gone to his mom’s house in San Bernardino for a couple days. He does that—I mean he did that,” Laura choked on the words before going on. “Sometimes when we had a big fight, if he didn’t have a job the next day, he’d go to his mom’s to cool off.” She stopped and stared off into space, looking lost.
“Okay, Laura so you got home around six. We picked you up in the limo so how did you get home?” Jessica asked, trying to get Laura back on track.
“I took a cab from Eric’s place. I went into the garage through the side door,” she replied. “That way I could see if Roger’s car was in the garage.”
“Yes, okay. I take it his car was there. So, then you went into the house from the garage, into the kitchen, right? Was that door locked or unlocked?” Jessica stopped asking questions, giving Laura a chance to respond.
“Yes, Roger’s car was there so I knew he was home. I went into the kitchen from the garage. The door was locked, I think. Maybe I think that because Roger usually locked up before he went to bed. I had to unlock the side door that led into the garage from outside, so that might be what I’m remembering. I can’t be sure. The lights were out in the kitchen but the sun was coming up so I could see where I was going. The little red light on the answering machine was blinking. I figured that was probably the message from me. I was still listening for Roger and didn’t hear anything except for the air conditioner and maybe the fridge was making a noise. I did smell something a little funny,” Laura paused, thinking about the events that morning.
“Funny, how?” Jessica asked.
“I don’t know. It was a slightly smoky smell. I’d had too much to drink and the smell made me realize I was a little queasy.”
“Smoky, you men like cigarettes?”
“Sort of, I wondered for minute if Roger was smoking dope and tried to cover it up. It wasn’t exactly like cigarette smoke, spicier, more like incense. I don’t know, Jessica.”
“Did anything look like it had been burned?”
“Well it was such a faint odor and gone in an instant. I didn’t really look around. I wasn’t taking any chances on waking Roger up. There were a few dirty dishes in the sink and a pizza box on the counter. That didn’t smell too great, either, given that I was on the verge of a pretty bad hangover. I tossed the box and the leftover pizza into the garbage. I thought that was a little odd. Roger wasn’t the tidiest guy, you know? But he hated to waste anything.”
“Okay, Laura, what next?”
Laura twisted more tightly on the tissue wrapped around her fingers. Her lips began to tremble.
“I headed to the guest bedroom so I could sleep without waking Roger.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper. “But I never made it. When I got to the end of the hallway, I was about to go into the guest room. Then I saw Roger and I froze.” Her whole body was shaking now. Jessica put an arm around her shoulders as Laura sobbed uncontrollably.
Jessica felt Sara move past them and made eye contact with her when she reached the kitchen. Sara’s eyes filled with tears as she watched her sister’s suffering. Jessica wondered how she and Dave were holding up. She had no idea if Dave still had a job as a coach and teacher. The schools had taken a hit and a lot of teachers were facing layoffs. Even if they both still had their jobs, with two kids they probably weren’t much better off than Laura and Roger. So many people had taken it on the chin in California. Jessica had another of those impulses to go home and crawl into bed and hide under covers that cost enough to keep this family going for a month or more. Several more minutes passed as she let Laura cry. Then, keeping her arm around Laura’s shoulder, she spoke again.
“Laura, I know this part is really hard but you’ve got tell me what you did when you found Roger.”
She lifted her head and sat up straight. “I know,” she said, more stoically now. “It only took a moment for me to realize that this heap on the floor in the hallway of my home was a body, and another second to realize it was Roger. My first thought was that he was sick or had fallen. I thought maybe he’d had a heart attack or stroke or something, pretty lame since he was so young. But he had been under so much stress. He was lying in a pool of his own blood.” Laura looked up at Jessica for a moment, like she was going to be sick.
“Jessica, I’m a nurse but, but there was so much blood!” She looked back at the hands in her lap. “It was cold and sticky. I slipped in it when I knelt down by him. He was kind of lying face down. I felt for a pulse, then leaned down to see if I could hear him breathing—nothing. He was so cold, my poor dead Roger. I knew he was dead but I called 911 anyway. I kept hoping I was wrong and the EMT’s could do something. I sort of crawled back to my purse, grabbed my phone and called for help. Then I just sat there. It wasn’t until the EMT’s arrived that I realized I needed to call the police.”
“What did the EMT’s say?”
“I’m not sure exactly how things went. I must have gotten up and let them in the front door. It only took a minute for them to tell me what I already knew, that Roger was dead. I don’t think they did anything more than I did, checked for a pulse. They said something about it being natural to be in shock. Somebody wrapped me in one of those emergency blankets because I was shaking. I ended up on the back patio. I don’t recall if the EMT’s moved me, or if the police woman or her partner led me out there.” She looked up at Jessica, bewildered and agonized by the effort to recall those awful events from earlier in the day.
“Do you remember what you said to the police or what questions they asked you?”
“I was so out of it by then. It was like I was having a nightmare but I couldn’t wake up. They asked me some of the same questions you’ve been asking me. When did I get home? Where had I been? When was the last time I spoke to Roger? Did he have plans for the evening? Others, I’m sure but it’s all jumbled, I can’t remember who asked what or when. At some point I remember someone saying that a homicide detective was on his way to the house, and talking about who would be in charge of collecting evidence from the crime scene. The last thing I remember at the house was trying to understand, homicide detective, crime scene, what? Then, I just sort of keeled over and hit my head on the patio. After that I guess they put me in the back of the ambulance and sent me to the hospital. The next thing I remember is being examined in the hospital ER a few hours ago. I called Sara t
o come to the hospital. I’m not sure what time it was when she got there or how long before they let me go home. Maybe Sara knows.”
She looked up at Jessica with a glint of something wild in her eyes. “My home is a crime scene, Jessica! A crime the cops are going to think I committed.”
“What makes you think that, Laura?”
“If they don’t yet, they will, because I lied to them, Jessica.”
“Lied to them, how, why?”
Laura squirmed in obvious discomfort. “When the police asked me what happened. I told them I didn’t have any idea, which is true. The officer was very kind. I told her I’d been out and had found Roger when I got in this morning. She asked where I’d been and Jessica, I lied. I told her that same thing I told Roger in my voicemail, that I was with you. She asked me about the blood all over me and my clothes and I told her that I’d tried to figure out what was wrong with Roger. They took my clothes, Jessica and sent them to the lab. Does that mean they think I did it?”
“Laura I’m sure that’s just routine police procedure, to take your clothes since you were the first one there and the one who found Roger. I presume they were questioning you as a witness, not a suspect, Laura, and I’m sure you can review and correct anything in their report that’s not accurate. We’ll make sure the correct information is contained in your official statement.” Laura was visibly relieved as Jessica continued.
“You were in shock, you took a nasty spill when you passed out. I doubt anyone will think it’s unusual that you got a few details wrong.” Jessica wasn’t quite as confident as she sounded but thought it would be good to set the record straight as soon as possible.
“I hope this doesn’t seem insensitive, Laura, but spending the night with Eric does give you an alibi. Do you remember anything else they asked that caused you concern?”
“Besides all of it, you mean? They asked so many other questions. Like I said, I can’t remember who asked what question or in what order. Did I see anyone near the house before I left? It doesn’t look like anybody broke in so was Roger expecting someone? A lot of “big ticket” items were still in the house, like the TV and Roger’s laptop, could I tell if anything of value was missing? Did anything look out of place or like it had been disturbed? Jessica, I find my husband lying on the floor in a pool of blood and they’re wondering if I noticed anything out of place. I wanted to scream but all I said was no, no, no to their endless questions.” Her face took on a scarily unnatural pallor.
“Laura, just take a couple deep breaths. It’s going to be okay.” That was a lie, Jessica thought. It wasn’t going to be okay, not ever. At least not okay in the same way it was for Laura a week ago or a day ago. Scary how life can change forever in an instant, but some things can be undone and some can’t. A dead husband is forever.
Sara came around the corner of the island in the kitchen with a glass of water for Laura and held it out. “Good idea, thanks” Jessica said holding onto the glass as she guided into Laura’s hands. Laura took a couple sips with very shaky hands.
“Trust me Laura you’ll have a chance to set the story straight. It’s not unusual to jumble the facts under the circumstances,” Jessica said again reassuringly.
“Sara, what time did you get to the hospital?”
“Laura called me around 8:00 this morning. She sounded awful. She told me Roger was dead and that somebody had killed him. She needed clean clothes since the police took the ones she had on when she got to the hospital. And she needed a ride and a place to go when they released her from the hospital. Dave was at home so he stayed with the kids. I got to the emergency room at Desert Regional as fast as I could. I brought her a pair of my sweat pants and a tee shirt since she didn’t think we could get anything from her house. It seemed like an eternity, but as soon as they said she could go I brought her home and told her she could stay with us as long as she needs. When we got home she called you.”
“I’ll get hold of the investigating officer on this. I’ll make arrangements to go down to the police station and give them your statement, as requested. The mistake will get corrected in your official statement to the police. That much I can do. I’m still convinced you’d be better off with someone else as your lawyer, if it turns out you actually need one.”
“No, no, I want it to be you. I trust you. I have some money, Jessica. I can pay you, something.”
“Laura, you know this is not about money for me. I don’t need the money. Just let me get some help to figure this out though, okay? I need to consult with somebody with more experience in handling, uh, these sorts of, uh, cases.” Jessica stumbled trying to avoid using words like criminal or murder or homicide.
“Thank you,” Laura said in a nearly inaudible voice, grabbing hold of Jessica again. Jessica hugged her friend.
“We’ll figure this out. I’m going to get to work, right away, okay? Laura acknowledged what Jessica was saying with a nod and by releasing her grip.
With that Jessica got up to leave. The other thing she could do was help Laura with the morass of tasks women face when they lose their husbands, to divorce or death. Jessica offered to go to the house and retrieve whatever she could find related to Roger’s business dealings or their personal finances. That way they could start to sort things out as soon as Laura was able to do so. Laura was so grateful and relieved that she did not have to go back to the house. Most of what they needed would be in Roger’s home office, including his laptop and a file drawer of important papers like insurance policies and business records he kept in his desk. There were some personal items Laura needed from the house too, mostly clothes, make up, toiletries and the like.
“Let me get organized and follow up on a few things. I’ll call you later today or first thing tomorrow so we can plan further.” She gave Sara and Laura each a big hug. Laura seemed less forlorn as Jessica left. Jessica felt bowed down by the weight of the burden she had just assumed, for which she was neither qualified nor prepared. That included the daunting prospect of visiting a dear friend’s house that had now become the scene of a murder. How did anyone ever prepare for that?
CHAPTER 4
As she left Sara’s house and headed to the Trader Joe’s nearby in Cathedral City, Jessica thought about the situation they were in. Her basic grounding in criminal law and procedure was enough to pass the bar in California, and on the first attempt, which was no small feat. When she sat for the bar exam, California had one of the highest failure rates in the country. Several prominent Californians, including the current governor, had taken the exam more than once before passing. If she was really going to help Laura, though, she needed advice from someone who knew a lot more than she did about procedures surrounding murder investigations.
Nobody with that kind of experience came immediately to mind. The same thing was true when she included the attorneys she had met through outings with Jim and the members of his firm, as well as those she met at community events. Lots and lots of attorneys in their circle, but none of them involved much in criminal defense work.
Jessica strained to recall fellow students in law school at Stanford who had planned to be prosecutors or defense attorneys. There was a guy who was something of a super star and made law review. What was his name? He was a nice looking guy in a waspy kind of way. A bit standoffish, but that could have been because he was a year ahead of her in school. His last name was Worthington, as she suddenly remembered. Someone had joked that he was from old money and “worth a ton”: Paul Worthington. That was it.
A few years back he had been involved in a high profile case in LA when some celebrity was accused of murdering her husband. Jessica hadn’t paid too much attention, but it was hard to avoid all the media coverage. She had caught glimpses of the handsome, well-spoken man talking about his client’s innocence, and taking a bow later when the proceedings were concluded in his client’s favor.
Parking in the lot at Trader Joe’s, Jessica pulled out her smartphone and began to search the alumni data base
at Stanford. The information she was looking for popped up right away. According to the latest info he was a junior partner with a firm in Los Angeles. She had no trouble finding the firm’s website and dialed the number listed on it. A robotic voice offered her access to individual members of the firm by spelling their last name. This got her to a voice mail where she could leave a message.
“Mr. Worthington, this is Jessica Huntington-Harper. You may remember me as Jessica Huntington. Actually you may not remember me at all, but we overlapped as students at Stanford law school, graduated a year apart. I’m calling because I have a friend in trouble. She may need a defense attorney and I could use a consult about how best to help her. If you could give me a call at your earliest convenience I’d be very grateful.” Jessica left her cell phone number and email address, thanked him in advance for his help, and hung up.
She put the phone away. Not the smoothest voice mail message. She had stumbled over her own last name. Huntington-Harper had always been cumbersome and it was true that when she and Paul Worthington were at Stanford Law she was just Jessica Huntington. Maybe it was time to go back to that, Jessica Huntington, pure and simple. Doing so made the whole divorce thing so final, like signing those damned papers. Not to mention she’d have to add a round of tasks to her “to do” list in order to make the name change official at the DMV, her bank, her credit card companies, etc. etc. etc.
