Last Night

by Meryl Sawyer

  "Dana?" came Rob's voice after her breathless hello.

  She started to tell him about Zach, but the background noise sidetracked her. "Where are you?"

  "In the airport in St. Louis. I'm coming home," he said, a smile in his voice.

  "What happened?" She dropped to the floor beside Molly. "What did you find out?"

  "I drove right to Gompers Bend and found Slade Carter. He's running the Whiz-In Mini Mart. Bald with a potbelly. He's a nice guy. He remembered you and Vanessa."

  "What did he say about that night?"

  "He drove into the parking lot and found Hank. He was dead, all right—dead drunk. You hadn't killed him. He'd passed out. The knife was stuck in his ribs. It didn't do much damage."

  Relief so intense it felt like pain centered deep in her chest. She picked up Molly and held the kitty to her breast. "I didn't kill him?"

  "No, angel, you didn't." The affection in his voice was unmistakable. If he'd been with her his arms would have been around her.

  Now she knew what they meant when they said the weight of the world had been lifted from your shoulders. That's just how she felt. As a judge she'd stood for law and order. And justice. Yet she had felt like a fraud. Not anymore. She hadn't committed any crime. Thank heavens.

  "Thank God. All these years I thought—" She stopped, a warning bell ringing in her brain, "Hank. He's here. He told the blackmailer—"

  "No, babe. Hank Rawlins is in prison for raping a ten-year-old girl."

  A suffocating sensation tightened her throat, and she clutched Molly so hard that the cat clawed at her. "I should have gone to the police, then that little girl would have been safe."

  "Dana, you were a child yourself, and you were on the run."

  "True, but I'm not keeping quiet any longer. When Hank comes up for parole Vanessa and I will testify against releasing him."

  "Good idea."

  "I can't thank you enough. I don't know what to say." She wanted to tell him she loved him, yet the words eluded her entirely. She needed to say how she felt about him in a nonthreatening way, not wanting him to feel trapped. But she'd never said those words to a man and they wouldn't come now.

  "I've got some ideas on how you can thank me."

  "Seriously, Rob. This has been hanging over my head for years. Now I feel… free."

  "I'm glad I could help. I wanted to do this for you. Just don't make me out to be a hero. Hell, it was incredibly easy. I drove into town and in less than ten minutes found Slade."

  "He must have told someone. That's how the blackmailer knows."

  "No. Slade thought Hank had been in a fight."

  "Really? That's exactly what we wanted the police to think when they found his body. I guess for two teenagers we were pretty smart."

  "Slade isn't the brightest bulb in the chandelier. Of course, Hank never admitted raping anyone, so Slade just assumed Vanessa had gotten tired of him and left for California."

  "Then how could anyone know? It doesn't make sense."

  Rob was silent for a moment, and she heard a flight announcement. "Have you or Vanessa ever been hypnotized?"

  She could see what he meant. Under hypnosis they might have revealed something they wouldn't have otherwise. "I never have been and Vanessa hasn't mentioned it, but I'll ask."

  "It's a long shot. The blackmailer doesn't have any real evidence. He's just trying to scare you."

  "He's doing more than just trying to scare me. Someone's using this to try to ruin my career." She took a minute to tell him about the review, finishing by saying, "It begins tomorrow at three."

  "My plane won't land in time for me to see you before the hearing starts. I'll wait until it's over to see you. Don't worry. The bit with Hank is nothing, but I am concerned about the will. Is there anyone around who really knew Lillian, someone who could back you up?"

  "Dr. Winston treated her for thirty-some years. She might have confided in him. She was always bringing him plants and things. I could ask him—"

  "Dana, it's the last call for my plane. I'll see you tomorrow. Just hang tough. This is going to be all right. You'll see."

  There wasn't enough time to tell him about Zach. She dropped the receiver into the cradle with the odd sensation she'd made a serious mistake.

  28

  By the time Rob walked through the metal detector and into the courthouse, he knew that Dana was in Judge Binkley's chambers for the review, so he stopped to call for his messages, hoping Zach had left word. The last time he'd checked his messages, Ellen had tersely informed him that she'd brought Zach to Honolulu.

  "What in hell is she doing here?" he muttered to the walls of the phone booth. Zach wasn't supposed to arrive until next week. Had she decided to bring Zach for a visit but not allow him to stay? With Ellen you never knew. If she had changed her mind she was in for a fight.

  There was only one message on his machine and it was from Garth, saying it was urgent that Rob call him right away. When he didn't get an answer at his son's hotel, he called Garth's office and was told he was in Judge Hamilton's chambers. Makes sense, Rob thought as he rode the elevator up to the third floor. Garth and Vanessa were probably here to give Dana moral support. He wondered if Dana had remembered to ask her sister if she'd ever been hypnotized.

  It was a shot in the dark, but he didn't have a better theory. Someone knew something, yet they hadn't bothered to check it out. Or maybe they didn't know where to look. They'd tried to capitalize on a kernel of information, which turned out to be misinformation. He walked into Dana's office, still pondering the question.

  "I'm looking for Garth Bradford." The secretary inclined her head toward the closed door to Dana's office. He knocked and Garth called for him to come in. "What's—" He stopped, jarred by the sight of Jason sitting in Dana's chair with Puni on his shoulder.

  "Sue the bastards! Sue the bastards! Sue their asses!" the twosome chanted, and Rob couldn't help chuckling.

  Vanessa jumped up from her seat beside Garth and gave Rob a hug worthy of a sumo wrestler. "Dana told me the news. How can we thank you?"

  She looked so damn happy that he felt guilty. He was getting more credit than he deserved—but loving it. "You and Garth could make me dinner," he said, looking at Garth and noticing the intense expression on his face.

  Before Vanessa could answer Garth said to her, "Why don't you take Jason and Puni outside and see if Puni has a contribution to make?"

  Vanessa held out her hand to her son, who shook his head. "Puni doesn't have a conbution. He pooed with the pigeons when we came in."

  "Now, sweetie," Vanessa began, and Jason's lower lip jutted out.

  "What did we agree?" Garth asked Jason, his tone kind, yet forceful.

  "I would mind 'cause there aren't any children here and this is special."

  Garth beamed him the smile that won over countless juries. Jason hopped down from the chair and followed his mother outside without another word.

  "Close the door," Garth said quietly, and the fine hairs across the back of Rob's neck prickled. Christ! What now?

  Rob shut the door and took the seat beside Garth. "What's wrong?"

  "I got a call from one of my sources." Garth hesitated, measuring him for a moment. "You're going to be arrested and charged with the Panama Jack's rapes."

  Fear mushroomed inside him, an emotion so powerful that the force of it staggered him. "That's impossible. Why would the police think I did it?"

  A flickering shadow in Garth's eyes sent Rob's stomach into a free-fall. "A victim picked you out of a six-pack, Rob."

  He let out his breath, blowing upward, ruffling the hair on his forehead. Shit! A six-pack was a series of six photographs. Five of them were head shots of policemen, while the sixth was a suspect.

  He vaulted to his feet. "What was I doing in a six-pack?"

  "They're desperate, Rob. They're looking at repeat offenders."

  "I was cleared. They don't have any right to show my photo."

  "Were you at Pa
nama Jack's last Monday night?"

  Rob almost said no, then he remembered. "Yeah. Chuck Mahole at UH ran some tests for me on the blackmail note Dana received. He wouldn't take any money. He wanted to have a drink at Panama Jack's." He raked his hand through his hair. "Hell, I was only there half an hour."

  Garth patted the seat beside him and Rob dropped into the chair. "I know you didn't do it, Rob. I suspect it's just Big Daddy making trouble."

  "That son of a bitch. My son's here. He's going to live with me. If my wife gets wind of this she won't let him stay."

  Garth's earnest eyes shifted, and Rob knew he didn't want to hear whatever else he was going to say. "I understand they have more evidence. What, I'm not sure, but I'm trying to find out. They plan to arrest you by the end of the week."

  As if someone had coldcocked him with a knockout punch, Rob gasped, every breath of air leaving his body at once. It was a few seconds before the magnitude of what Garth said finally registered. Numb with shock and anger, he said, "I learned my lesson last time. This time I'm fighting the charges —out in the open."

  "I'm with you all the way," Garth assured him, "but this could get real ugly."

  Rob rose and walked over to the Wyland print, feeling like the tiny rainbow fish about to be devoured by the shark. "My son's at a crossroads in his life. He doesn't need this."

  "What about Dana?" Garth asked quietly.

  "Dana," Rob echoed. "The last thing her career needs right now is to have her name linked with mine. Don't tell her anything about this. Let me handle her."

  Dana stared at the three men across the table from her. Collis Hwang, head of the state commission on judicial performance, was older than she expected, but had a reputation as a fair man. Adam Pinsky, the young lawyer with him, kept eyeing her and shifting in his seat. Judge Binkley would present the charges. She would be given a chance to explain her actions, then the two men from the commission would decide her fate.

  "Let's begin," Hwang said, checking his watch. It was almost three-thirty. Judge Binkley had kept them waiting almost a half hour.

  "Sorry to have kept you waiting, but I was expecting more… uh… information about this… uh… problem," Binkley said, and Dana smothered a smile. It wouldn't do to appear too cocky yet, but she knew the "evidence" he'd been hoping to get about Hank Rawlins's murder hadn't appeared.

  "What problem are we talking about?" Hwang's impatience echoed through the teak-paneled chamber.

  Davis Binkley cleared his throat. "Let's start with the first charge. If the evidence arrives, my secretary will bring it in." He cleared his throat again, obviously flustered by the missing evidence. "Fran Martin claims that Ms. Hamilton used undue influence to convince her mother to change her will."

  Hwang scanned the documents that Binkley handed them, then gazed at the golf trophies mounted on the wall, waiting while Pinsky read every word. Dana struggled to remain calm. She knew this charge, although less serious than the other, had more potential to ruin her career. She could prove that Hank was alive; she couldn't prove she hadn't influenced Lillian Hurley.

  "You can see how serious this charge is," prompted Binkley.

  Hwang frowned slightly, and Dana had the impression that he'd seen far more serious charges. "What do you have to say, Judge Hamilton?"

  "I never discussed Lillian's will with her. Never. She was my neighbor, and we became friends. I had no idea she'd left me anything. I—"

  Binkley cut in. "Her daughter claims—"

  "I read the statement," Hwang interrupted. "It's Judge Hamilton's turn."

  Dana stifled a sigh of relief. Binkley was alienating Hwang. She couldn't tell what Pinsky was thinking, but he kept staring at her. "Lillian Hurley's doctor is waiting outside," Dana said, praying Dr. Winston had arrived. "He can tell you more about Lillian's state of mind. He treated her for over thirty years."

  "That's highly irregular," Binkley said. "Reviews use written statements. If you don't have a state—"

  "I have Dr. Winston's statement." Dana reached for her briefcase, silently blessing Rob for prompting her to contact the doctor. "I just thought the seriousness of the charge warranted a personal appearance."

  "Send him in," Hwang said, and Binkley reluctantly hit the intercom.

  Dr. Winston was an impressive witness, Dana decided as the older gentleman entered the room. Tall, with an erect posture that suggested military training, he projected self-confidence and honesty.

  "Dr. Winston, there's been some confusion about the changes in Lillian Hurley's will. Had she ever discussed it with you?" asked Judge Binkley.

  "No, she never mentioned it," Dr. Winston admitted, and Binkley shot Hwang a look that clearly said, "I rest my case." But the doctor wasn't finished. "She did speak about her daughter. Quite often in fact. Fran was a bitter disappointment to Lillian. Her daughter never called, never visited."

  He paused, and Dana realized he had a flair for drama. "And I mean never. Not on Christmas, not on Mother's Day, not on Lillian's birthday. I don't know how she could be so cruel to such a sweet old lady. Lillian was quite depressed about it, but she perked up when Dana moved next door."

  Dr. Winston continued, explaining about Lillian's high blood pressure and the arrangements Dana had made so the older woman could live at home. She tried to gauge the effect of the doctor's words, knowing intuitively that Hwang, not Pinsky, would decide her fate, but it was impossible to read the older man's expression.

  "Dana became a substitute daughter to Lillian," Dr. Winston concluded. "She loved Dana, truly loved her. I would have been stunned if she'd left anything to her own daughter. She appeared like a bolt out of the blue last week just to wheedle money out of Lillian."

  "Thank you for coming," Binkley choked out the words, and the doctor left with a reassuring smile at Dana.

  "There isn't any merit to this charge," Hwang concluded, and Pinsky rubber-stamped his colleague's assessment with an enthusiastic nod.

  "Well, the daughter says—" Binkley sputtered.

  "I read the statement." Hwang raised his voice for the first time. "The daughter makes lots of accusations. What does the lawyer's statement say?'

  Pinsky spoke up. "Lillian Hurley had never willed her home and small savings account to her daughter. Before she changed the will last year, all the money was to go to the Society to Preserve Hawaii's Native Plants and Flowers."

  "True, but—"

  "But nothing," Hwang said, cutting off Binkley. "What's the next charge?"

  Dana was positive her sigh of relief could be heard all the way to Diamond Head, but no one in the room seemed to notice it. Relief quickly became anger, though, as she watched Binkley fumble with the second file folder. Undoubtedly Big Daddy was behind this, but he'd found a willing puppet.

  "I… uh… didn't… uh… get the evidence I was expecting," Binkley said. "We may have to postpone this review until—"

  "Why don't you tell us the charges?" Dana interjected. She didn't want this hanging over her head a minute longer than necessary. "Perhaps I can help."

  "Good idea," Hwang added. "Let's see if we can clear this up now."

  "I have information that Ms. Hamilton was involved in a murder "

  "May we see the statements?" Hwang asked, and Binkley grudgingly handed them each a single sheet of paper that Hwang read in an instant. "An anonymous tip? You insisted on a review with nothing more than an anonymous tip? That's ridiculous. People are always angry with judges. They'll say anything to get them in trouble."

  "I spoke with the caller myself. The information sounded reliable." A mottled flush crept up Binkley's neck. "I was supposed to get additional evidence, but it hasn't arrived yet."

  "It'll never come, because I was never involved in a homicide," Dana informed the men. "The anonymous tip is about something that happened to me when I was fourteen. Obviously, the person doesn't have all the facts."

  Dana paused a moment, not quite comfortable discussing this with these men. She'd hardly been able
to tell the story to Rob. She didn't have a choice; her future was at stake. "When I was fourteen a man lured me to a shack and raped me. My sister tried to rescue me, only to have him attack her. I stabbed him—so we could escape—but I didn't kill him."

  She leaned forward, her eyes on Hwang's. "Hank Rawlins is a vicious criminal who's in prison in Missouri for raping a ten-year-old child. I would have done anything to spare her the pain, the suffering. It's a crime a victim lives with forever."

  "My God," Pinsky muttered, shaking his head sadly. "I know just what you mean. My wife was raped several years ago. We're still going to counseling."

  Hwang scalded Binkley with a disgusted look, then snapped his briefcase shut. "I don't know why you called for a review."

  Dana couldn't resist. "I do. My sister is divorcing Thornton Coltrane's son. He's furious with us. He'll do anything to ruin my career."

  Hwang glared at Binkley. "Did Coltrane contact you?"

  "No," he responded a little too quickly.

  "I have ways of checking, you know. If you're lying I'll have you reviewed—and be a witness." Hwang's long fingers drummed his briefcase as he waited for an answer.

  "He called when he heard about the will," Binkley conceded, "and encouraged me to go ahead with the review—now—when Dana was being considered for superior court. I wouldn't have done it, of course, had I not thought the charges against Ms. Hamilton—"

  "Judge Hamilton," Hwang corrected, standing. "I'm reporting that these charges against Judge Hamilton were frivolous, entirely without merit." Pinsky rose, telling Binkley, "I'll be reporting to the governor that you should be reprimanded. Not only have you used trumped-up charges against Judge Hamilton, you've failed to mention the petition."

  "What petition?" Hwang asked, echoing Dana's thoughts.

  Binkley shuffled through a stack of files. "Here, I was just about to show it to you." He handed a folder to Hwang. "I sent out an inquiry letter, asking about Ms.—Judge Hamilton's performance. This came to my office this morning."

  Pinsky smiled at Dana. "Everyone that's anyone in the legal community signed a petition saying you were a fine judge—the best."