“Town’s changin’. Bettuh face it, Wendell. Julia’s gonna keep sellin’ muffins. Church Ladies’ Cookbook is gonna have a spaghetti chaptuh. Coffee’s gonna get even moah different.”
Wendell made a sputtering sound.
“Way I see it,” Clarence went on, “we got a choice. We can go along with ’em aw we can die. Me, I’m not dyin’ so fast. I don’t care what Julia’s puttin’ in those muffins, long’s they taste good. Fact is, I nevuh did like those dried up old rolls Mavis used to serve with the coffee you loved.”
sixteen
CAROLINE WAS SURE SHE HAD HEARD WRONG. Calmly holding the phone to her ear, she asked Doug to repeat himself.
“You’ve seen the news, haven’t you?” he asked first.
“No. We don’t watch it here.”
“That explains it, then. I knew there had to be a reason why you didn’t call.”
“I’m calling now, and I’m wondering why no one called me.” She felt a burst of indignation. “Luther Hines is my client, not Walker Housman’s. I’ve been working with Luther and his son for three years now.”
“He blew it, Caroline. He killed the kid.”
Caroline found the words no easier to swallow the second time around. This time, though, she began to feel queasy. She had spent untold hours with Luther trying to deal with the boy, first when he was charged with sexually harassing one of his high school teachers, and later, in college, when he was charged with statutory rape. In both instances, she had managed to plea bargain for probation and psychotherapy. There had been several subsequent drunk driving charges, which had resulted in fines and the suspension of his license, and several loud and physical fights with his father, which had resulted in no police action at all.
Caroline had never imagined it would come to this. “What happened?”
“Luther claims it was self-defense. They were arguing. The boy came at him with a knife. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the knife that killed the boy.”
“What did?”
“He was strangled.”
“By Luther? Impossible.”
“Luther was the only one there. He called the police. He gave a confession.”
Caroline knew that Luther had a temper—Jason hadn’t come into it by chance—but she had never seen him lose it to the point of violence. Yes, he was exasperated with Jason, but exasperation was a far cry from hate, or whatever the emotion was that would incite him to murder. She supposed it could have been fear. But Luther loved his son. God only knew—as did the partners of Holten, Wills, and Duluth—the sums he had paid Caroline in the past to help the boy.
Swallowing down her emotions, she said, “He had the right to make one phone call when he was arrested. Who did he call?”
“You, but you weren’t around, so Walker took it. We’re talking the middle of the night, Caroline. Walker got out of bed to meet him at the police station, then stood beside him in court yesterday morning.”
“Just long enough to establish himself as the lawyer of record,” she said in disbelief. “I called in yesterday, Doug, but no one breathed a word of this.” She felt betrayed.
“Because it’s not your case. It’s Walker’s.”
“But Luther is my client,” Caroline said, trying to stay cool. “I’m the one who should be defending him.”
“You weren’t here.”
“If Walker had called me, I’d have taken the first plane back. I could have been there in time for the arraignment. Partners are not supposed to steal cases from partners.”
“Come on, Caroline. You’re making a big deal out of nothing. The fact is that Walker Housman has defended a helluva lot more murder suspects than you have.”
“Not by much, if you count the ones I prosecuted.”
“Defense work is different.”
Caroline was feeling doubly betrayed. Doug had always been on her side. “Are you suggesting that Walker will do a better job than I could?”
“I’m suggesting that you leave it alone. Luther Hines will be well represented. Isn’t that the most important thing?”
“But I know Luther in ways Walker doesn’t. I’ve worked with him. I believe in his innocence.”
“Caroline, he confessed.”
“He’s not a murderer, Doug. He’s a decent person who may have acted in self-defense, may have acted out of fear-driven terror, may have been momentarily insane. I believe in the man. I also believe that he must be in agony now. Pure guilt may have him agreeing to a greater punishment than he deserves.”
“Luther Hines? Are you kidding? He knows when to be cool. He’s a successful businessman because he plays his cards right.”
“He’s also running for mayor—or was—which means that whoever tries this case will be in the limelight. You don’t suppose Walker wanted that limelight for himself, do you?”
Doug was too slow in answering.
“While I’m out of town. He’s a snake. Tell him that for me, will you, Doug?” She slammed down the phone, strode into the family room, and sank into a chair. To Annette, who was on the sofa, she said, “One of my partners just robbed me of a major case.”
“That sounds illegal.”
“Not illegal. Only unethical. Damn it, it is,” she cried and, bolting up out of the chair, strode back into the kitchen. Within minutes, she had Walker Housman’s secretary on the line.
“He’s in a meeting, Ms. St. Clair.”
“This is important. It won’t take long.”
She was put on hold, but it was the secretary’s voice, not Walker’s, that returned. “I’m sorry. He can’t take your call now.”
“It’s about the Hines case. Would you tell him that?”
She truly expected Walker to come on talking a blue streak in defense of his taking the case, but, again, the secretary was the one who returned. “He’ll have to speak with you another time.”
“When?” Caroline asked, drumming the counter. She could use a cigarette. Then again, no. She wasn’t letting the likes of Walker Housman re-hook her.
“Let me see,” the secretary said. “Well, he has meetings most of today. Maybe late afternoon—no, that’s bad.”
Caroline simmered. “Just put me through to him now.”
“Why don’t you give me the number where you are, and I’ll give him the message.”
Caroline didn’t know which was worse—the secretary running interference, or Walker putting her off. She knew what he’d do with her message. He’d ball it up and slam-dunk it into the nearest wastebasket.
But there was more than one way to skin a cat.
Docilely, she reeled off her phone number. Then she disconnected the call. Then she dialed again. This time, she connected.
Graham Howard was on the firm’s executive committee, and hence part of the management team. If she was to make a protest, this was the place to do it.
Graham had always been cordial to her. This day was no exception. “How are you enjoying your vacation, Caroline?” he asked.
“I was enjoying it just fine until a little while ago, when I learned about Luther Hines. I just tried to reach Walker, but he won’t take my call. I have to say, Graham, I’m appalled by what Walker’s done.”
Graham didn’t pretend not to know what had happened, though he gave it his own twist. “I can understand your disappointment. It will be an interesting case to try.”
“Luther is my client. It’s my case.”
There was a pause. Then, a still polite, “I think not. Walker is the lawyer of record. Luther has agreed to it.”
“Was Luther given a choice?”
“That, I don’t know. You’d have to ask Walker.”
“I would have, if he’d agreed to talk with me. But he refused. He must have known why I was calling. Graham, this isn’t right.”
“Of course it is, Caroline. Walker is an experienced defense attorney. He’ll give Luther the best possible representation.”
“He won’t do a better job than I would, and Luther is my clie
nt.”
“But you were away. I really don’t know why you’re so upset.”
She fisted her hand in a bid for self-control. “I’m upset,” she said deliberately, “because I have been Luther Hines’s lawyer for three years now. I have cultivated a relationship with him, and I’ve worked hard at it, all of which benefits the firm. The firm owes me this case.”
“No. It doesn’t. Walker will try the case. The firm will benefit from that. Really, Caroline, there’s no need to carry on.”
“I’m not carrying on,” she said in her most sensible voice.
“Yes, you are. Walker hasn’t done anything wrong. Partners work together.”
“If that were so, wouldn’t he have called me prior to the arraignment? Wouldn’t he have wanted to update me on the fate of my client? Wouldn’t he have wanted to consult with me about the best defense?”
“Walker knows the best defense,” Graham announced. “It’s going to be temporary insanity. Now, you know as well as I do, Caroline, that you haven’t done very well with that particular defense. The Baretta case was an embarrassment. Let Walker try this one. It’ll be better, all around.”
Caroline was dumbstruck. It was a minute before she could think, and another before she could speak. Within a matter of seconds, she was raging mad. “I want you to know,” she said in a tremorous voice, “that I find what you just said to be totally offensive.”
Graham sighed. “That problem is yours, not ours. If you want to play in the big league, you have to be able to rise above things like that. Professionalism is called for.”
“I’m talking ethics. I’m talking mutual respect. I’m talking scrupulousness.”
“That sounds like an accusation.”
“If the shoe fits,” she suggested.
“I’m going to forget you said that. You’re upset. You’re saying things that you’d think better of saying, if you were thinking more clearly. It’s good you’re away, Caroline. Clearly, you need this vacation. Now, I have another call coming in. We’ll talk more when you return.”
Caroline turned away from the phone, stalked across the room, and threw herself into the chair. “I don’t believe that man. He says I’m the one with the problem. Was I ‘carrying on’?”
“I thought you sounded very reasonable,” Annette said.
“So did I. There are stereotypes of women that some men cling to, even when they see proof to the contrary staring them in the face. I am totally offended.” She blew out a breath.
“Is there anything you can do?”
Fly home, she thought. Take the very next plane back to Chicago, she thought. But, damn it, she didn’t want to have to do that. She didn’t want to fly home. She had earned her vacation. She had a right to spend time with her family.
With another sigh, her anger gave way to resignation. “I can launch a protest before the executive committee of the firm, but it’s apt to do as much harm as good. If my conversation with Graham told me anything, it was that. If I were a man, I’d be perceived as standing up for my rights. As a woman, I’ll be considered a whiner. And a sore sport. The fact is that I wasn’t there when Luther Hines called. Walker Housman was.”
Annette turned her head on the sofa arm. “Are you angry?”
“Furious.”
“You don’t sound it.”
Caroline was aware of that. She couldn’t muster the strength to rant and rave, with Chicago so far away. “But intellectually it’s there. I feel betrayed. This is the first vacation of any length that I’ve taken since I joined the firm. Why did I know something like this would happen?”
The question was no sooner out, when she gave the answer herself. “Because I work in a dog-eat-dog world, and my partners are curs. They’re successful because they’re ruthless. Unfortunately, the ruthlessness doesn’t always stop where it should.”
“You’re not like that.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I,” Caroline said. Damn it, she didn’t feel like rushing back to Holten, Wills, and Duluth. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. So why do you work there? How can you stand it?”
“That’s what Ben always asks.” She missed him with a sudden, sharp ache, missed his voice, missed the sounding board he was and his down-to-earth, grass-roots perspective. She missed knowing that he might just show up, and the melting inside when he did.
She had tried to call him last night. He hadn’t been home.
“He thinks I should open my own firm, a smaller, kinder one.”
“Why don’t you?”
Caroline drew a sudden blank. She had to think about it for a minute, but even then she felt bewildered. “I don’t know. I always wanted a partnership in the biggest, strongest firm.” Was it habit, then?
“So now you have it. You’re the first female partner. But it doesn’t sound like it’s so great.”
Caroline crossed her knees and began swinging a leg. “Want to know something? It’s pitiful. Those men play games, Annette. They compete with each other for billable hours, for women, for appointments to the boards of foundations and club memberships, and when there’s a break during partners’ meetings, know what they discuss? Cars! Not their kids. Not family leave. Not putting together a gift for the retiring business manager. Cars.” She threw an exasperated hand in the air. “I don’t know why I stay there! Sitting here, right now, it doesn’t make any sense at all!”
“Hey, guys.”
Caroline’s leg stopped mid-swing. She came forward. “Good God, Leah. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Leah had, in a way. With Julia’s words still raw in her ears, she was trying to grasp them, trying to understand why Ginny had never said anything, trying to understand why Jesse hadn’t let on, trying to understand what in the world was going on in her life. She was feeling shocked and hurt.
She lowered herself to the part of the sofa that was still warm from Annette’s legs. She was grateful her sisters were there. Past, present, and future seemed suddenly in flux. They were the only ones who shared enough to help.
“You won’t believe what I just learned,” she said in a shaky voice. “Mother’s been here before, after all. She and Daddy rented Star’s End one summer. It was several years before you were born, Caroline. While she was here, she had an affair with the groundskeeper.”
Both faces were blank. Then Caroline said, “And I’m the pope.”
“She did.”
“That’s absurd,” said Annette.
Caroline nodded. “You have the wrrrong woman.”
“If that’s the kind of gossip this town loves—”
“Ginny would be better off elsewhere.”
They were staring at her, challenging her to take back what she’d said. All she could do was to stare right back. She hadn’t wanted to believe it. Her initial response had been much the same as theirs—until she had started to think.
Apparently Annette was doing the same, because her stare wavered. “She was that woman?”
Caroline remained adamant. “Impossible. Not Ginny. She wouldn’t have had an affair. She was too proper. She wouldn’t have dared.”
“She had the perfect set-up,” Leah went on. “Daddy used to commute. He’d spend five days in Philadelphia and the other two here.”
“Who told you this?”
“Julia. I know—she’s only been here three years, herself, so how would she know, but the natives talk. They go to her place, and they talk. The talk started the minute Mother bought this place, and it hasn’t stopped. Think about it. The curiosity about her. It’s intense.”
“And understandable,” Caroline reasoned. “Suddenly a stranger is the single largest landowner in town.”
“But think about the questions,” Leah urged. “They’re not asking how rich she is, or what improvements she’ll make to the land, or whether she’ll sell off a parcel for development. They’re wanting to know what her life was like in Philadelphia, whethe
r she stayed married to Daddy, whether she was happy.”
Jesse had asked questions like that. He had known who Virginia was. Just the night before, Leah had asked him about the legend. They had been in the greenhouse. He hadn’t let on what he knew.
She wondered why, if he loved her.
“They’re just nosy in an intimate way,” Caroline said in dismissal.
But Annette was looking worried. “Are they? I remember how startled I was when I first read her letter to me. I couldn’t believe she was writing, not calling, about something as momentous as selling the house where we all grew up. I couldn’t understand why she would pack up and move to a strange place with strange people at this point in her life. I kept thinking there had to be a better reason than simply wanting to rest. This would explain it.”
“How so?” Caroline argued. “Even if she was that woman, why would she come back? If she’d been involved in a scandal, the last thing she’d want to do is show her face here.”
“Maybe she couldn’t help herself,” Leah offered. “Maybe she was drawn here over every rational impulse.” She could understand that all too well. People often did things that made no sense at all. “Maybe she needed closure,” which was one of the very reasons Leah had accepted Ginny’s invitation and come to Star’s End, herself.
Closure? Hah! The visit had opened a Pandora’s box!
Annette’s eyes were wide. “The compulsion to return would almost make sense—if it’s true and she was madly in love.”
“Mother madly in love?” Caroline muttered. “Right.” She scowled off toward the deck, then scowled right back again. “You’re making two rather improbable assumptions. The first is that straight-arrow Ginny would defy society by having an extramarital affair. The second is that she was capable of having an affair. I don’t know about either of you, but the last word I would ever associate with our mother is passion.”
Annette was holding very still. “My kids feel that way about Jean-Paul and me. It’s taken them awhile to accept that if the bedroom door is shut, they shouldn’t barge in.”
“No, it’s not just that she’s my mother,” Caroline insisted. “It’s spending a lifetime watching her. She wasn’t passionate toward Daddy. She wasn’t passionate toward us. She wasn’t passionate toward her friends, or the club, or even the living room when she had it redecorated a while back. She busies herself with all the things she deems right, but nothing deeply moves her.”
For My Daughters Page 20
