Courting Death

by Carol Stephenson

  “That’s stretching it, Sam.”

  “I agree it’s slim pickings, but it’s all we have at the moment.” He slid an arm around my waist. “Let’s get you to your car and I’ll follow you home.”

  We started walking again and reached the corner of Clematis and Olive where we waited for the light to change. Traffic this time of night remained a constant flow as people trolled the restaurants and nightclubs. A group of pedestrians gathered on the corner directly across from us.

  “So the only reason you skulked in the corner of the restaurant was you were worried about me?”

  Sam kept his gaze fixed on the traffic signal. “Exactly.”

  As the light turned and the opposite group surged forward, I managed to poke him in the rib cage with my elbow. “Jealousy had nothing to do with your spying on me tonight?”

  “None whatsoever.” Sam stepped off the curb.

  “Liar,” I muttered as I followed him.

  An engine roared to life on the west side of the intersection, and a dark sedan pulled out from a parking spot. People screamed as it shot across Clematis and nearly missed a northbound car. Horns blared. The sedan swerved and then righted itself.

  Sam spun even as he bent over. “Get back.” He drove his body into my middle section and lifted me over his shoulder.

  “Oomph.” I braced my hands on Sam’s back as he jumped back on the sidewalk. I lifted my head in time to see the car take dead aim at our corner. Then I gripped the waistband of Sam’s pants and held on for dear life as he sprinted into the deep alcove of the corner front store.

  Metal screamed as the car bounced up on the curb and then veered off again. Burning rubber filled the air as the unknown driver gunned the motor and sped down Clematis. Brake lights flared and then disappeared as the car turned toward Narcissus.

  Sam shifted and lowered me until my feet touched the ground. Having jelly for bones, I wrapped my arms around his waist. Sam kept one arm around my shoulders as he unclipped the phone from his waist.

  A young man wearing a backward baseball cap appeared in the alcove. “Are you two okay?”

  I let out a breath and answered as Sam belted out directions in low, urgent tones. “We’re fine. Thank you.”

  The man gave a low whistle. “Talk about being drunk. It was like his car had you two in its radar.” He smiled at Sam who closed his phone. “Man, was that some sprint you did with the lady. Did you use to play football?”

  He nodded. “Tailback.”

  “You still have some moves.”

  Sam’s teeth flashed. “With proper motivation I can still haul ass.” He slid his hand down and gave me an affectionate pat on my rear. “Lovely ass that it is.”

  The other man snorted, gave a thumbs up and moved away.

  I didn’t know whether to hit Sam or kiss him.

  “Lovely ass my foot.” I threw a quick jab into his upper arm.

  Sam laughed and rubbed his arm. “Quint’s the foot pervert. Me, I’m partial to how your butt moves in those skinny skirts you’re always wearing.”

  Then his expression sobered and he ran a reassuring hand up and down my spine. “Are you okay? It was nearly the death of me when I saw that bastard making a beeline toward you.”

  The quick retort I was about to make died on my lips. “Me? You were standing right next to me. Besides, it was a drunk driver, wasn’t it?”

  Sam shook his head. “When the car passed under the intersection lights I caught a good look despite the tinted windshield. The driver was wearing a ski mask over his face.”

  It was cold for Florida, but not that cold. I shivered and Sam’s arm tightened around me. “Still, he could have been gunning for you.”

  He brushed his lips against my forehead. “I think tonight is connected to Saturday’s phone call. They’re both personal. You sure have royally pissed someone off, Red.”

  I lifted my face and kissed him. “I have a funny way with people.”

  An hour later the adrenaline buzz had changed into an edgy hunger. A need to celebrate being alive. The moment Sam closed the door after we stepped inside his townhouse, I turned and pressed my body against his. Even as I hauled his head down with one hand to kiss him, I used the other to trace my fingers along the bulge pressing against my stomach. His erection grew, hardened.

  “Umm. Nice.” I sucked gently on his lips, enticing his clever tongue to surge into my mouth. His kiss was deep, bone-melting hot. I released my grip around his neck so that I could use both to tackle his belt.

  Sam broke off the kiss. “Christ, honey, slow down. The bedroom—”

  “Too far.” Belt buckle undone. Waistband button next up. I attacked it feverishly.

  “Sofa then.”

  “Not if I get your pants off first.” The button popped loose and I went after the zipper.

  With a groan, Sam fitted his palms to my butt and lifted me. I wrapped my legs around his waist and tried to hook my thumbs into the bands of both his briefs and pants.

  He staggered into the living room. “I’m going to drop you if you don’t stop.”

  Laughing, I nipped his ear. “I thought with proper motivation you could still haul ass.”

  Sam drew me so close that my hands were trapped between our bodies. He strode across the room and dropped me squealing onto the sofa. He sprawled heavily on top of me. Passion whipped through me as the juncture of my thighs cradled his erection. He kissed me deeply as he reached down and hauled the skirt up to my waist. His callused hand moved on my thigh. The exquisite sensation was so intense that I cried out.

  He paused and lifted his head to search my face. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. Don’t stop.” I shoved my fingers through his hair and dragged his mouth back down to mine. My eyes closed as the haze of desire filled me.

  He groaned low in his throat and I heard something tear. The crotch of my panties I realized a moment later when his fingers parted me and I felt the broad head of his shaft. He entered me only slightly and paused.

  I lifted myself against him, trying to take him deeper. “Now, Sam.”

  “Demanding, aren’t you?” he murmured. His back muscles strained beneath my hands. “Open your eyes, honey. I want to watch them glaze.”

  I obeyed and, with a smile, touched his face. “Here’s looking at you, Sam.”

  He surged into me and as our bodies found a rhythm only we shared, I allowed the sense of the connection to sweep me to completion.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Do you realize what you’re doing?”

  Thursday morning, I sat in my office staring at Claire and Brian Whitman. The repercussions of the bomb they had dropped were staggering, and I knew exactly who was behind this maneuver—Damian Quint. Melissa, who was sitting in the corner to observe, stirred. With an effort, I kept my voice even.

  “Demanding a speedy trial means the state has to try your case within sixty days. Claire, that means very little preparation time. I may not be able to depose all the state’s witnesses. I may not be able to complete the entire discovery that needs to be conducted.” It was sad but true. Justice didn’t always come before people’s schedules.

  Her once vibrant face now only a strained mask, Claire looked to her husband for guidance. Brian gripped her hand. “You yourself said that two of the key witnesses are dead. Without Dr. Hassenfeld’s testimony and no autopsy performed at the hospital, the prosecution will have to rely on his bare bones report, which is favorable to us.”

  If it was even conceivable, the stress was taking a far greater toll on him. Brian looked like he had aged twenty years, deep lines scored his face and shadows haunted his eyes.

  “That means the state’s case is all circumstantial evidence,” he said.

  “They still have the death of your prior baby.”

  Claire visibly flinched and grew pale. Oh yeah, I was so not going to be able to put her on the stand. Not at the rate she was falling to pieces. I had Gabe Chavez, our firm’s investigator, workin
g on what he could learn about the death of the Whitmans’ first daughter.

  Brian leaned forward. “But you said you would move to exclude the evidence.”

  “Making a motion and winning on it are two different things. Certainly the case law is strong in our favor, but admissibility is decided on a case by case basis.”

  I took a deep breath. “If the judge denies the motion to exclude any evidence concerning the death of your first child, there may not be time to regroup.”

  “We’ll take our chances. The way I see it, the state has a weak case. Why allow the prosecutor more time to shore it up?”

  He had a valid point, but in the end, only one person’s opinion mattered in this room.

  “Claire.” I looked directly at my client. “Are you positive you want to go forward with a speedy trial?”

  She swallowed. “Yes, I’m certain. I can’t have this hanging over my head any longer than I have to. I need to be able to grieve alone, in private. I need to pull the pieces of my life back together and go on.”

  Brian lifted their joined hands and pressed his lips against the back of hers. “We both need to put this all behind us and see where our lives stand. And whether we still want children.”

  His quiet pronouncement sent a chill along my spine. Surprise flashed across Claire’s face, and she shook her head. “Brian, maybe it’s time we thought about adopting a child.”

  Brian’s mouth set. “We’ll talk later,” he said in a repressive tone.

  Uh oh. He was the “children of my own loins” sort. I had no doubt that he would persuade Claire to try for another baby, but not on my watch. I planted my hands on top of the desk.

  “Claire, Brian. Whatever you decide, use birth control for now. A pregnancy might send a very wrong message to a jury panel.”

  To my surprise, Brian agreed. “You’re absolutely right.”

  I reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a document. “Claire, I need you to sign this form. Basically it states that I’ve explained the legal implications of your options and you want me to request a speedy trial on your behalf.”

  “Okay.” She leaned forward and, as she scrawled her signature, I fought through the myriad of things of preparation for trial.

  Brian reached inside his jacket and withdrew a card. “I know a neonatal expert through business associates and met with him yesterday. He says he can help Claire, so I want to use him.”

  I took the card he extended. To no surprise I glanced at it and saw the name Lee Chang, M.D. embossed on the heavy stock paper. My apprehension grew. Exactly who was controlling whom here?

  While I was more than worried about Brian’s almost Svengali-like influence over Claire, it appeared Damian Quint was casting a long shadow over the defense of this case.

  I gave Brian a neutral smile. “I’ll look into him.”

  “You do that. He said he would give us a break on his usual fee because he was interested in the case.”

  After I’d shown the couple out, I returned to my office, sat down and swiveled to face the board.

  “Are you all right?” Melissa hovered in the doorway.

  I waved her back in, propped my elbows on the chair’s arms and steepled my fingers as I continued to consider the cast of characters known so far in the case. “Anything about that conference strike you as strange?”

  “I think Mrs. Whitman is about to break.” Melissa hesitated a moment and then continued, “Mr. Whitman is making all the decisions.”

  I tapped my fingertips together. “At least he’s giving all appearances of doing so.”

  Melissa glanced at a folder she was holding. “I’ve been researching on the internet and calling around about experts like you asked. The name Mr. Whitman mentioned did come up.”

  “I bet Dr. Chang has a resume a mile long.”

  She blinked and glanced down. “Actually, he does. Serves on numerous hospitals and boards.”

  “Including Oceanview.”

  “Yes.” She frowned. “If you don’t think Dr. Chang’s any good, I have other names.”

  “Dad mentioned more than once you had a head for figures, which is why he always thought you’d join the business. You’re also handy with computers as I understand it.”

  Her shoulders stiffened. “I was a double major in business and computer information systems in college.”

  “Good. I want you to dig into every source of financial information you can on every name that’s listed on the board. If they stole their lunch money, I want to know about it.” I swung my feet down to the ground and stood.

  “If you need me, I’m going to check out the super expert Dr. Chang.”

  With a concerned expression, Melissa also rose. “Nicole, what’s wrong?”

  I gave her a tight smile and grabbed my bag. “Lesson number one in criminal defense. There’s nothing more humbling than knowing your client is setting you up from the start for an appeal based on her attorney’s incompetency.”

  Dr. Lee Chang gestured at a leather chair in his spacious office. “Ms. Sterling, please have a seat.” He went around the clean-lined modern desk and sat down in an executive-style leather chair. Leaning forward, he clasped his hands.

  “I was absolutely thrilled when Brian approached me about my being an expert witness. I’d been following poor Claire’s case quite closely.”

  I balanced a portfolio with a notepad on my knee. “I was wondering how I could show up and see you immediately.” I’d been so positive I would get in that I hadn’t even had the office alert him I was coming.

  He gave me an unabashed grin. “Even as we speak, my secretary is moving several appointments. Normally I’m booked for months in advance.”

  I glanced over at the bank of windows. Dr. Chang’s office was located in yet another medical complex that had sprung up on the western edge of Palm Beach County close to where a new hospital had been built.

  “I appreciate your time. As you know, my client’s been charged with the death of her baby girl. Complications in our defense include the couple losing their first child to sudden infant death syndrome.”

  Dr. Chang shook his head. “Not a rarity for a family to lose more than one child to SIDS. However, as I understand it, infant apnea caused the most recent mortality.”

  “I was hoping you could help me there, Doctor.”

  “I’ve conducted published statistical studies that I’ll be able to use and explain to the jury.”

  “In our favor?”

  His lips twitched. “Of course, Ms. Sterling.”

  “It’s Nicole. If we reach an agreement about your being our expert, I will want to review those studies and go over all aspects of your testimony.”

  “Of course.” He nodded. “You said ‘complications.’ Would the other one be the fact that the child’s organs were removed?”

  “Yes.”

  “Monstrous.”

  Perfect opening. “Yes, it was. I understand that you serve on the Oceanview’s board of directors.”

  “I have the honor.”

  “Won’t that present a conflict for you?”

  A small furrow appeared between his brows. “I’m not following you.”

  “The baby’s organs were removed at some point between the Whitmans’ house and the funeral home. One of the suspected places is the hospital.”

  His expression cleared. “Dr. Cruz has been reassured by the police that the desecration occurred at the funeral home.”

  That would be nice and tidy, but somehow I doubted if that was how Sam viewed it.

  “You have to be prepared in the event the prosecutor raises the issue.”

  Dr. Chang leaned back in his chair. “I’ll have a ready enough reason, Nicole. I have privileges at every major hospital in the county. If it were true the child’s body was mutilated at Oceanview, I’d be properly horrified and would want the culprit brought to justice. With David’s unfortunate death, I don’t think we’ll ever know the truth.”

  “How well do
you know Dr. Damian Quint?”

  He straightened and clasped his hands on top of the desk. “Not well. On occasion we exchange a few words at a meeting. Why?”

  I spread my hands palms up. “It’s my understanding he was the one who recommended you to Brian. I’m trying to understand the relationship among the three of you…in the event the prosecutor asks.” Always blame it all on the prosecutor.

  He chuckled. “Strictly professional. There may be an occasional referral, but you’ll find that to be true for all doctors. If someone has a mental or physical problem beyond our specialty, we’ll refer the patient out, often to someone we know.”

  I made a movement to rise and then paused. “You mentioned your relationship to hospitals, Dr. Chang. Do you serve on any other boards?”

  “Several charities. Here.” He picked up a thick folder in front of him. “I have one of my presentation folders to give you. It contains my resume, a list of cases for which I’ve served as an expert, and copies of articles I’ve written. I’m sure you’ll find the answer to all your many questions.”

  I took the hint, stood and grabbed the folder from him. “Thank you, Doctor. I’ve taken enough of your valuable time. I’ll be in touch.”

  He rose as well and escorted me to the door. “The pleasure’s all mine. I look forward to helping Brian and Claire.”

  I managed a normal pace as I walked through the reception area, positive the doctor remained in the door watching me. The moment the heavy wood door closed behind me, I let out a sigh of relief and hurried to the bank of elevators.

  Wasn’t it interesting that whenever he referred to the Whitmans his tone had assumed an air of familiarity?

  The ride down was swift. As I exited the elevator, I spotted the large glass case by the entrance to the outdoor common area. Curious, I crossed the green marble floor and found it contained not only a diagram of all the buildings but also a directory. Loads of medical offices with an occasional attorney, most on the civil side of practice. I shuddered to think what the rent must be as I looked through the floor-to-ceiling bank of windows at the meticulous landscaping and massive fountain sparkling in the center of the industrial park. Too expensive for our firm and besides, I liked the character of our 1920s building.