Tapped Out: Maple Syrup Mysteries
Page 2
Not that it surprised me. Her kids were smart, precocious, and two of the best-behaved munchkins I’d ever met. Even though I’d never met Elise’s ex-husband, they seemed to take strongly after the Cavanaughs. It still melted my heart hearing them call me Aunt Nikki. They’d begged for the privilege as soon as we announced our engagement.
Elise held up a finger. “You can split one. I don’t want you full for lunch.”
Arielle grinned and sprinted off. The towel flapped behind her like a cape.
Elise leaned against the wall. The fine lines were back in her face, more noticeable now than they had been before Arielle’s appearance. “Chief McTavish had to suspend me because I used police resources for personal reasons.”
She stated her infraction like she was reading from a police report.
Since she didn’t try to defend it, it had to be true. Using police resources for personal reasons could mean a lot of different things, though. “I get the feeling you weren’t photocopying coloring book pages on the copy machine.”
Elise shook her head. “I was looking into a case where I think the person charged with the crime is innocent.”
It could have been a lot worse. Basically, she’d gotten a slap on the wrist because she was spending work time and, potentially, other officers’ time to continue investigating a case the county believed no longer required police involvement. She’d probably also done background checks on other possible suspects. She must have spent a lot of time digging for it to result in a suspension rather than a reprimand—though, as she said, Chief McTavish also wanted to protect her from coming under suspicion of worse.
More interesting to me than what she’d done to get in trouble was why she’d done it. She’d have known she was taking a risk.
Elise liked to make things right. If she’d missed something or felt she’d been biased against the person they arrested, it made sense that she’d try to fix it now.
“Were you involved in the original investigation?”
“I wasn’t,” she said.
I waited for more, but nothing came. She’d angled her body subtly away from me. The blank expression of a trained police officer who wanted to give nothing away covered her face.
That line of questioning, clearly, was closed.
I’d leave it be for the moment. She still hadn’t told me how I played into all of this, but I had a sneaking suspicion. “Since you can’t investigate anymore, you want me to.”
“In a manner of speaking. He needs a lawyer.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought it was a conspiracy, that my parents had bribed Elise. I did know better. She did not want Mark and me to move to DC. When we told her about Mark’s job, I thought she might cry, and Elise cried even less than I did.
My parents’ involvement aside, if she felt the man was innocent and she wanted him acquitted, I was the wrong person to hire.
“I’m not a good lawyer, Lise. I was never the lead on a case when I worked for my parents. I couldn’t string two coherent sentences together in front of a jury.”
Her left eyebrow arched up. “Everyone in the family knows your parents offered you your job back. They wouldn’t have done that if you’re as bad at it as you think.”
“They think I’ll get better with practice, which isn’t the same as saying I’m competent now.”
Her eyebrow stayed triangled. “Even if I believed that, which I don’t, any lawyer is better than him defending himself. That’s what he’s threatening to do. He says he can’t find another lawyer who’ll take his case, and he doesn’t trust the public defenders to believe he’s innocent and dig up the evidence to prove it. They’re too busy and jaded.”
Everyone was entitled to representation, but the number of things Elise had already withheld from me made me even more certain taking this case would be a terrible idea. “Why doesn’t he have a lawyer?”
“His lawyer quit. He said the case wasn’t one he could win.”
That I didn’t believe. No criminal defense attorney I knew turned down a paying client because they didn’t think they could win the case. In a lawsuit where you only got paid if your client won, maybe. But this wasn’t a lawsuit.
Elise hadn’t shifted position an iota, though, so she believed his story at least.
It seemed I wasn’t going to get the answers I needed from Elise. Nor was she going to be swayed by my arguments. “I’ll talk to him. I can’t take someone on as a client without their consent anyway. But that’s all I’m promising for now.”
Elise ran a hand over her ponytail as if she wished it was in a work bun. I’d always suspected the neatness of her attire for work gave her a sense of security and control.
“That seems fair,” she said.
“I want one more thing though.”
Elise’s eye narrowed. “What?”
“One of those popsicles.”
3
Elise must have called the man as soon as I was out the door, because I’d barely gotten home and put the dogs on their leashes for a walk when my cell phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number.
Given who I suspected it was, I opted for a professional opening. “Nicole Fitzhenry-Dawes.”
“Hi,” a man’s deep voice said on the other end. It was the kind of voice that made you think the owner had to be over six foot, muscular, and in the running for sexiest man alive. “I’m Dean. Elise said I need a lawyer, and I should call you.”
The way he phrased it, and the tone he used, made me think he hadn’t wanted to call. He probably thought I was a criminal trial version of an ambulance-chaser and that I’d approached Elise about taking his case.
Having a client who didn’t trust me might actually be worse than having one who did. When a client trusted me more than I trusted myself, at least it motivated me to live up to their expectations. With a client who didn’t even want me on the case, the best I could hope for was to prove them wrong.
I was far enough into the bush that I felt safe letting Velma and Toby off their leashes to run around for a bit. That’d give me one less thing to split my concentration, and Velma didn’t tend to run off on me the way she did Mandy.
“Elise told me close to the same thing,” I said.
He chuckled. Even the man’s laugh was sexy, which meant he was probably five foot and paunchy with acne. No one could have a voice like that and a physique to match.
“Before we go any further, how about you tell me about your case.”
“Elise didn’t tell you?”
Velma gave a sharp bark, took off running, and treed a squirrel. For some reason, I felt a bit like the squirrel. “Even if she had, I’d want to hear it from you.”
A sound like he’d let out a breath. “Okay. Well, I’ve been accused of killing my wife.”
I’d expected it to be a murder case, so his blunt pronouncement didn’t shock me the way it otherwise might have. Elise wouldn’t have risked her job for anything less. “How?”
“Well, first they read me my rights, then they asked me some questions, and told me I was under arrest for Sandra’s murder. After that, the exact steps get a little fuzzy.”
Great. A smart mouth. He’d be a joy to represent in court. That might be the real reason his last lawyer quit. Losing came with the territory, but being humiliated by your own client was another thing entirely.
“I must have made the question too complicated. I’m sorry about that. Let me simplify it. How do they say you killed your wife?”
I couldn’t quite keep the bite from my voice. Your wife just died, dude. Show some respect. If he’d tried to be a comedian with the police, it was no wonder they’d suspected him.
“Suffocation.” He sounded a little mollified. A very little. “Someone put a plastic bag over her head and duct taped it shut.”
A shiver ran over my arms. Toby pushed his cool nose into my palm, and I dropped to one knee and draped an arm around him.
That would be an awful way to die. Hopefully they’
d drugged her first so she didn’t know what was happening to her. I wouldn’t ask him that, though. I’d wanted to deflate him a little, not be cruel. I could find out the gritty details from the reports.
“And where were you when this happened?”
“Passed out on the couch downstairs.”
And right there was why the police didn’t believe him that he hadn’t killed his wife. Setting aside whatever other evidence they might have against him, it was a stretch to think he hadn’t heard what was happening upstairs. But he had said passed out rather than asleep. “Were you drunk?”
“Yeah.”
No more jokes from him at least. “Do you remember anything about that night?”
He made a negative grunt.
Even though Elise insisted he was innocent, I still had to ask him. Because people did things all the time when they were drunk that they didn’t remember the next day. “You’re sure you didn’t hurt your wife while you were drunk?”
“Now you sound like the police.”
That most definitely wasn’t an answer. For a second, I thought he might hang up on me. “I have to know. I can’t defend you if you lie to me.”
“Yeah, I’m sure I didn’t kill my wife.”
All the humor was definitely gone from his voice. It was all snark now. Why in the world would Elise care what happened to this jerk? Since she hadn’t botched his investigation, she must have known his wife. I could see that. I’d want to be sure the right person went to prison for murdering a friend, even if that meant I had to help a jerk be acquitted of the crime in the process.
And because this was important to Elise, it was important to me. If I didn’t love her so much, I’d hang up on this man and never look back.
“Okay. Since you didn’t kill your wife, can you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt her?”
“The prosecution won’t ask that when I’m on the stand.”
I kicked a stone off the trail. Never a straightforward response, it seemed. Elise should have given me the whole box of popsicles. I was going to need the sugar.
Despite his claim that he hadn’t killed his wife, I wasn’t convinced. Wouldn’t an innocent person be more forthcoming? “If you’re innocent, one of the best defenses we can build is to show that other people had motive and opportunity. It helps create doubt in the mind of the jury.”
“Everyone likes…”
His voice cracked, and I felt it like someone stepped on my heart. It was easy to dislike him when I thought he might be guilty. When he showed a moment of genuine love for his wife, it was hard to think he might have killed her and even harder to push him for answers.
Of course, I might simply be gullible. Just because I’d never met anyone who could fake a crack in their voice didn’t mean it couldn’t be done. Actors could do it.
“Everyone liked Sandra. She always wanted to help people. She volunteered at her sister’s business all the time to help them out, and she was worried out of her mind when our neighbor Ken was sick. She even took him chicken soup.”
“Even nice people have flaws and enemies.”
“Her only flaw was that she didn’t like kids. I wanted more, and she refused.”
I mentally logged the fact that he had children. We could counteract his sarcastic nature with the family man image if we had to.
But we were going to be in real trouble if I couldn’t find another person who might have wanted her dead. Juries wouldn’t believe random home invasion or silent serial killer when Dean looked like such a lock for the murderer. I’d dig deeper into who might have had a grudge against her or who might have wanted to hurt her to get back at Dean. All of that, though, would have to wait until I was officially on the case.
“Elise wants me to represent you.” Hopefully he’d hear the unspoken and I’m willing to do it for her sake. “If you agree, I’ll contact the prosecuting attorney and request the discovery package so I can bring myself up to speed on your case.”
“What’s the catch?”
I let out a silent scream. Toby twisted back to look at me. I patted him on the head. The poor boy should be off playing with Velma, and instead he felt the need to stay and comfort me.
“If you call the need to pay your bills a catch, then that’s the catch.”
Elise or no Elise, this guy needed to pay, if for nothing else than the pain and suffering I was certain he was going to cause me.
“Money’s no problem.”
He hadn’t even asked how much. Was he independently wealthy or planning to stiff me?
I swallowed down a grumble-sigh. No way to tell which it might be ahead of time. “We’ll have to meet to talk about your defense once I’ve had a chance to go over the evidence, but that’s all I need from you for now.”
I confirmed his phone number before disconnecting. Given his confrontational attitude, I passed on asking for the name and number of his previous lawyer. I texted Elise instead. She’d known enough about this case that it was worth a shot. His last lawyer didn’t need to give me anything, but I was hoping he would fill me in on any work they’d already done on the case as a professional courtesy.
I threw a ball for Velma while I waited. It was the kind that was as big around as my head and had a handle on it. She loved the added challenge of chasing it through the trees. I didn’t like the added challenge of trying not to hit a tree and have the ball rebound into my face, but Velma had so much energy that we had to burn it off somehow. Thankfully, Mandy seemed to have finally figured out how not to lose Velma when she walked the dogs. I was glad for the extra legs to take them out for some exercise, especially on days when I was busy.
Toby opted to sit next to me while Velma ran around, his tongue lolling out of one side of his mouth. I didn’t often remember that he was already heading into his senior years, but the hot weather made it more evident than even his winter limp.
A text buzzed in my pocket. Elise had sent me the name and number of the former lawyer.
I heaved the ball for Velma again and dialed while she galloped after it. The receptionist put me through.
“Anderson Taylor,” a man’s voice answered.
Voices were never a good indicator of age, but if I had to guess, I would have said the man who belonged to it was early to mid-forties.
“This is Nicole Fitzhenry-Dawes. I’ve been retained as defense counsel for your former client…”
Whose last name I didn’t know. I slapped my forehead with my free hand. He’d introduced himself only as Dean, and I’d never asked. I was going to sound like a complete idiot when I had to admit I didn’t know his full name. What kind of self-respecting lawyer took on a case without even knowing her client’s name?
The best I could hope for was that he only had one client with the name Dean. Assuming that was his first name. Maybe it was his last name.
Oi, I was an idiot sometimes.
“Your client who was accused of suffocating his wife. Dean.”
Lame, Nicole. Completely lame.
“Anyway, I was hoping you’d be willing to pass along anything you’d already dug up that could help in his defense.”
Velma dropped her ball at my feet and cocked her head as if to say nice save. Hopefully it’s sounded like I figured he’d know which case I meant.
“Happy to, but I should tell you there isn’t much. I wasn’t on the case long.”
A hint of hesitancy entered his voice near the end. I didn’t think it was because he didn’t want to share, but I couldn’t think of anything else that would cause it, either.
“Fitzhenry-Dawes?” he said. “You’re not related to Edward Dawes, are you?”
I cringed. Maybe that was it. My parents tended to be polarizing even within their profession. Other lawyers either looked up to them or despised them. Perhaps Anderson Taylor fell into the latter camp. But I wasn’t going to lie. My parents were my parents, for better or for worse.
“My dad, yes.”
“I didn’t know his firm
practiced this far north. You are with your dad’s firm, aren’t you?”
I might soon be again, but for now I wasn’t. Meaning I was kind of in no man’s land for an answer. “I’m soloing this one as a favor for a friend.”
He umm-humm’ed. “We analyzed case studies from some of your dad’s trials when I was in law school. He’s a beast in the courtroom. If lawyers had fan clubs, I’d be president of his.”
I chuckled. All other things aside, it was nice to hear my dad spoken of in admiring terms.
But it raised other questions. Why the hesitant tone to his voice earlier, and why had he backed out of this case? If my dad was his idol, he wouldn’t have dropped a client because he felt he couldn’t win. Based on what Dean said earlier, it didn’t sound like payment was the issue, either.
“What address do you want me to courier the package to?” Anderson Taylor was asking. “I’ll send it out today.”
I gave him my address, and the silence stretched a beat like he was trying to decide whether or not to say something else before signing off.
The skin on my arms felt tingly, like the hairs were deciding to stand on end or not.
“Listen,” he said. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but knowing you’re Edward Dawes’ daughter, I won’t feel right if I don’t. Part of your dad’s reputation is that he pushes the lines but never crosses them.”
The hairs on my arms made their decision. The ones on the back of my neck rose as well. With an intro like that, I had no doubt I wasn’t going to like what came next.
“I don’t know what Dean told you about why I chose not to continue representing him.”
It was a statement, but it ended on a question mark, like he wanted me to tell him but didn’t want to ask. “I was told you thought he was guilty, and you figured you couldn’t win the case.”
A huff of air. “I’m pretty sure he is guilty, but so are a lot of my clients. That’s not why I quit. He wanted me to tamper with the jury after selection. Even though I told him flat-out I wouldn’t do it, I didn’t want to risk it. Like your dad always says, reputation and image are everything.”