Last Night

by Meryl Sawyer

  Big Daddy sat silent as a tombstone, glaring at Garth. Evidently Adams had instructed him to be quiet, so he'd resorted to a stare that could freeze lava. It didn't fluster Garth. Coltrane was a pervert, plain and simple. Garth didn't take the moral high ground often, but this was one time he felt superior to another man.

  Vince Adams finished explaining the very effective argument he'd present to the court. Garth glanced at Vanessa out of the corner of his eye and saw she was still composed, still trusting his judgment. Oh, God, don't let me blow this.

  "We agree that you have an airtight case against Vanessa Coltrane, with all the witnesses who'll claim she's an unfit mother and everything," Garth said, not mentioning that Coltrane money paid for those witnesses.

  For a moment Adams seemed taken aback, not expecting Garth to cave in so early and without a fee-bloating argument. Big Daddy grinned at Vanessa, an ugly, triumphant sneer. Vanessa stared back at him, her beautiful face a mask of composure.

  Dana shifted in her seat and glared at the Coltranes. Big Daddy ignored her, concentrating on Vanessa and Garth instead. Eric Coltrane appeared so bored that nothing short of a bomb under his chair would get his attention.

  "There's just one problem with your case," Garth said, his tone level.

  "What's that?" Big Daddy blurted out.

  "You can prove that Vanessa Coltrane is an unfit mother and custody should go to the father, but can you prove Eric is Jason's father?"

  "Of course, we can—" Adams halted midsentence, reacting to his clients' stunned expressions.

  Eric had appeared brain dead just moments ago, but now he was staring at Garth, slack-jawed. Big Daddy had turned the color of an eggplant, his unruly brows knit together, making him look like Rasputin.

  Garth directed his next comment to Eric. "I have a laboratory ready to conduct a paternity test. Your blood will prove—"

  Big Daddy vaulted to his feet. "Jason is a Coltrane. Just look at him."

  "Eric is not Jason's father," Vanessa insisted. "A paternity test will prove it."

  Big Daddy dropped into his chair, his face ashen. "That's why I called everyone here today," Garth said, using the tone that convinced juries his clients were innocent. "I think we all want to avoid the spectacle of a public trial—for Jason's sake."

  "She's an unfit mother." Adams pointed to Vanessa with an unflinching stare like a vulture. As tenacious as a used-car salesman, he was determined to prolong the case and up his billable hours. "The court will take Jason away."

  Garth waited. This was the gamble: Was Big Daddy willing to risk exposing his perversion to get Jason? The silence from across the table was the answer he'd been praying for. Big Daddy had an ego the size of the Hindenburg, and he wasn't about to reveal his true nature. Not even for his son.

  Garth was so relieved that tears formed behind his eyes, tears that he hadn't allowed himself since he watched both his parents being lowered into the ground and realized he'd spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair. Alone.

  Without feeling a thing, he knew Vanessa's hand was on his knee. Her fingers, crowned by those gorgeous nails, curved around his leg, silently communicating her relief.

  Big Daddy lurched to his feet and yelled at Vanessa, "You'll be sorry. You'll beg me to forgive you. I swear it!"

  Rob leaned against the open door of the phone booth and listened to Dana's phone ring. God damn, where was she? It was past midnight in Honolulu and early morning in Missouri. Already the temperature was nudging triple digits, sealing his shirt to his skin and giving him what promised to be the mother of all headaches.

  Hell, it wasn't the weather that was getting to him. It was Zach. What was he going to do about his son? Or was it already too late? And how would Dana react to his news?

  He was hanging up when he heard Dana's voice. "Hey, where've you been?" he asked.

  "Rob." That's all she said, but the sound of her voice made him smile for the first time since he'd met Zach and Ellen at the airport in L.A.

  "Sorry I didn't call when I changed planes, but I barely made my flight."

  "Did something happen with Zach?"

  "Yeah." He sucked in his breath and gazed at Joe Mama's, the two-bit diner where he'd had breakfast. "His mother caught him with pills in his pocket. She thinks he's experimenting with drugs. He denies it, but…"

  "Oh, no. What are you going to do?"

  "Ellen wants to send him away to school." Even now he could hear Ellen sobbing as they'd sat in the terminal's coffee shop and discussed Zach's future. This time he didn't give in to her tears. If he didn't take charge he'd lose his son to drugs. "I want him to come live with me."

  "Is that what Zach wants?"

  He slumped against the wall of the phone booth. "Who the hell knows? The kid barely said two words. He just sulked while we talked."

  "You're doing the right thing. Zach needs your guidance. Bring him here and get counseling. You can turn him around."

  She hadn't seen the petulant teenager his son had become. Love you forever. His son's voice echoed down through the years. Zach used to say that when Rob kissed him good night. That was then and this is now, Rob told himself. Inside the hostile teen he had to find that lost little boy.

  "How does Ellen feel about Zach moving here?"

  "She agreed. She knows she's in over her head." He didn't curse Ellen the way he wanted to. She'd done her best over the years to keep Zach away from him. Now she was willing to dump the problem in his lap, and blame him if it didn't work out.

  What had he seen in her? He didn't know anymore, but he was dead certain of one thing. He loved his son. And he'd do anything to help him.

  "I give a lot of counseling referrals for first-time drug offenders. I think Dr. Ho at Brigham Young University in Laie has the most success. I'll make an appointment for you and Zach."

  "Thanks." The word came out like a sigh. He didn't know what he expected. Didn't she understand this would change the course of their relationship? He couldn't spend his nights with her when Zach needed constant supervision.

  She answered his unspoken question. "We'll work this out, Rob. You'll see."

  "I know." She was being so great about this that he tried to sound upbeat for her sake. "Anything else happening?"

  She told him all about Jason and the scene at Garth's with Big Daddy. Rob whistled softly. "I'm blown away. I've never heard of anything like that. Still, it's in character. The man's a voyeur, an eavesdropper, and worse. When he couldn't get what he wanted he did it the sneaky way."

  "I'm afraid he's going to do something terrible. You should have seen him. He was so angry that I thought he'd have a coronary."

  "No such luck."

  Dana laughed. "I'm nervous. He's a powerful man."

  Rob couldn't deny that. "He'll do something sneaky. Watch your blind side."

  "Don't worry about me. It's Vanessa he's after. Anyway, I have plenty of problems of my own. I may be the subject of a judicial review."

  "What? Why?"

  He listened with growing concern as she explained about Lillian's death and the inheritance, but he didn't alarm her. "Look. It's just Davis Binkley being a total prick. He hasn't got anything worth calling for a review. He wants to keep you from getting that appointment."

  "This will do it."

  The infinite sadness in her voice tore at him, just as seeing his son had earlier. He loved them both, but he seemed powerless to help them. Dana wanted that appointment. He'd do anything to help her get it. That's why he'd come halfway across the country. Maybe he should have stayed home, maybe she needed him more there.

  "Dana, I'm two hours from Gomper's Bend. I'll check out the situation there and fly right home."

  "Call me as soon as you know anything."

  Rob hung up with the nagging suspicion that he was a hound dog on a cold trail. He wasn't going to find a damn thing in Gomper's Bend. The answer wasn't in the past; it was in the present.

  26

  The following morning Dana w
as late for court. Molly had gone out and wouldn't come when she called her. No doubt Lillian's kitty was sulking because all Dana had to feed her the night before was cottage cheese. After searching for fifteen minutes she finally located Molly under the oleander bush and brought her into the house.

  Last night Lillian's home had been dark. It didn't appear that her daughter was staying there, but Dana didn't want to take any chances. She kept worrying that Fran would return and steal Molly just to spite her.

  "You're late," Anita said with a sly grin as Dana rushed into her office.

  "Tell the clerk that I'm on my way."

  Minutes later she was seated at her bench, trying to breathe normally and not look as flustered as she felt, when she discovered she had the wrong file folder. It was some old case, not the arraignment list that she was supposed to finish today. She ignored the disgruntled expressions of the half dozen attorneys who were waiting to schedule their cases. She wasn't usually late or disorganized, but wasn't everyone entitled to a bad day?

  Motioning for her bailiff, Gus Mahala, to come to the bench, she cursed Anita. Dana knew she'd put the arraignment file on top of her desk. Anita must have switched files.

  Dana resisted the urge to run back into her chambers and strangle Anita. Enough was enough! As soon as court was dismissed she was going to the personnel office and demand that Anita be replaced. Forget filling out a bunch of forms and waiting for a formal hearing. She wasn't putting up with this conniving woman another day.

  "Is something wrong, Judge Hamilton?" Gus asked in a low tone.

  Gus held the biggest smile and the gentlest disposition of anyone she knew. If he actually had to draw the gun holstered to his belt he'd probably scare himself to death. He claimed that he could trace his ancestors back to King Kamehameha, and Dana didn't doubt it. Gus didn't lie or gossip. That's why she'd called on him instead of the clerk, who was a magpie and Anita's close friend.

  "Gus, my secretary goofed. Please go into my office and bring me the file marked 'Arraignment Schedule.' "

  After this upsetting start, the rest of the morning wasn't much better. Defense attorneys couldn't coordinate their schedules with the prosecution; there was a shortage of public defenders and she had to appoint pro bono attorneys, which required telephone calls; worst of all, there was an acute shortage of courtrooms because of the overflow from the superior court. Finally she recessed for lunch and went to meet Gwen in the cafeteria.

  She scanned the crowded room and saw Gwen seated at a table with her father. Gwen's back was to her, but judging from the angry expression on Boss Sihida's face, this wasn't a pleasant conversation. Not wanting to interrupt, Dana dallied in the food line, finally selecting a half-wilted spinach salad.

  Out of the corner of her eye she watched Boss Sihida. Naturally he was dressed for a funeral. No one knew why he always wore black in such a hot climate, but he did. A small man with a surprisingly muscular build and a full head of black hair sprinkled with gray, Gwen's father had made a fortune with crack seed.

  In ancient times Chinese warriors had been given bits of salted plum with a cracked pit to carry with them and eat over long periods of time. Shanghaied Chinese sailors brought the treat to the islands. Although Boss Sihida was the son of Japanese immigrants, he'd immediately seen how popular the Chinese snack food could be. He packaged the product, promoting it as the islands' answer to trail mix. Now every food store in the islands sold multiflavored packages of Sihida crack seed.

  Even though Dana gave Boss Sihida credit for being a successful businessman, she didn't like him. She'd met him several times and he'd been polite and hospitable, but there was something about him that disturbed her. As she approached their table and Gwen looked up at her with a relieved smile, Dana realized why she didn't like Boss Sihida. He was too much like Big Daddy. He lived totally through his children, ruthlessly dominating them.

  Boss rose as she came to the table, bowing slightly in the traditional Japanese way. "Good afternoon, Dana."

  She smiled as sincerely as she could. It never hurt to have Boss Sihida in your camp—especially with the Coltranes gunning for you. "It's nice to see you again."

  Boss studied her a second. "I wish I could stay, but I have an appointment." He left without another word to his daughter.

  Dana sat down, embarrassed for her friend. How could her father treat her that way? It was worse at home, she thought, recalling the time she'd been invited to dinner. It was obvious Boss Sihida put his sons first, even the one who'd shunned politics for dentistry.

  "I've got good news," Gwen said, her face flushed with excitement. "My name is on the list for that superior court spot that came up when Judge Clements died."

  "It is?" Dana had intended to discuss the judicial review with Gwen, but considering that they were now competitors that didn't seem wise. How sad, she thought. The system made it hard for women to be close friends.

  "Aren't you happy for me?" Gwen's almond eyes narrowed, making Dana ashamed of herself.

  "Of course, I'm thrilled for you, Gwen. I just wish we didn't have to compete for the same position."

  "That's life," Gwen responded, then she leaned closer. "By the way, what happened with your sister's divorce?"

  "Vanessa will get sole custody of Jason."

  "Really? They came to terms that fast? Unbelievable."

  "Well, you know Garth Bradford."

  "I certainly do," Gwen responded with genuine admiration. "If I had his brains I'd be on the Supreme Court by now."

  The court was Gwen's life. She was close to her family, especially her brother, but didn't have any outside interests. That's not going to be me, Dana told herself, thinking about Rob. She was going to have a real life. And she wasn't going to be heartbroken if she didn't make superior court. Too many things were more important.

  Gwen whispered, "I hear the police are about to arrest the Panama Jack's rapist."

  "Really? That'll be a relief for women on the island."

  Gwen looked around the room. "Rob Tagett isn't here. He's probably down at the station waiting for the story to break."

  Dana wanted to tell Gwen about Rob but didn't.

  She felt she owed it to Vanessa to discuss it with her first. Her sister's confession had changed things between them. They were well on their way to being close again.

  "Don't look now, but here comes Binkley's secretary."

  Dana didn't turn around, but a chill of apprehension waltzed up her spine.

  "Judge Hamilton." Dana recognized the officious tone and turned to face Binkley's secretary. "His Honor would like to see you."

  The secretary didn't wait for a response; she was gone in a second, lost among the lunchtime crowd, and Dana inhaled sharply, wondering what was wrong now. She stared down at her half-eaten spinach salad. "I'd better see what Hizzoner wants. I'm already behind with the arraignment schedule. I need to be in court right on time."

  A few minutes later Dana was sitting in Binkley's office waiting for him to get off the telephone. The chill of apprehension she'd felt earlier was now a cold sweat.

  Binkley hung up and gazed at her with a paternal expression, but she knew he was less than sympathetic. "We have a problem."

  The royal "we," she thought. Like a king, Binkley took his position as presiding judge with regal authority. Her temper flared. "We don't have a problem. I have a problem. Isn't that what you really mean?"

  He huffed, indignant. "It's come to my attention that you were involved in a murder when you were younger."

  She managed what she hoped was an outraged expression, her thoughts reeling. How could he know? "What on earth are you talking about?"

  "There's no statute of limitations on child molestation… or murder. If you were involved in a crime you could be charged."

  "So call the police. Charge me."

  It was a bluff, but it worked. "Well, I haven't seen the file yet. I just heard about it. I was hoping you'd fill me in."

  He tried his ingrati
ating smile on her, but she didn't capitulate. Binkley didn't have any evidence —yet. He wanted her to confess.

  "There's nothing to tell you." She rose, striving to appear self-confident, and headed for the door, knowing Binkley hated anyone to get up before he'd dismissed them.

  "I'll have the evidence tonight." His words caught her by surprise, and she was glad her back was to him. "I've called a judicial review for tomorrow at three."

  She willed a smile onto her trembling lips and faced him. "I'll be there."

  Somehow she made it back to her own chambers. She collapsed in her chair and put her head down on her desk. The blackmailer had gone to Binkley. Who was it? It didn't matter anymore. The truth would come out.

  She had killed a man—no denying it. And no more running from it. In some strange way that set her free. Once the truth was known she'd never have to hide from it again. Maybe she didn't deserve to be a judge. After all, she had killed a man. This might just be her punishment.

  Considering the circumstances, Garth could probably save her from prison, but her career was over. She'd never be a judge again. So what? She would have worse problems. She'd be disbarred for concealing her crime. How would she support herself?

  What would happen to her?

  "Pun-iii." Jason's happy laughter rang out from the shower as Garth reached for a towel. Puni and Jason had spent the morning running through the sprinklers. The last thing they needed was a shower, but Jason insisted that Garth show him how to keep Puni clean.

  There wasn't much to it, of course. It was simply a matter of running warm water over his feathers and taking care not to get the spray into his eyes. They'd been in there a half hour, singing and splashing each other. Who would have thought the ornery bird needed a little boy to make him happy?

  He tapped on the shower door. "Okay, guys. Time to come out."