He dialed the number on the message slip, ending up with a recording stating that he had reached the county of Santa Barbara. Since he didn’t know Lily’s extension, he had to wait for an operator to come on the line. “Lily Forrester, please.”
“Hold on,” a female voice said, the sound of computer keys tapping in the background. “Ms. Forrester is with the district attorney’s office, extension 210. Do you want me to connect you?”
What else would he want? “Please,” he said, impatient. Lily’s voice came on and he began speaking, then realized he was talking to a recording. Waiting for the beep, he left a message for her to call him. A few moments later, he hit the redial button and again reached the main menu for the county offices. She had to have an assistant, someone who could give him the number to her cell phone or, at the very least, contact her and tell her he was back in his office so she could call him. He felt like kicking himself. When he’d seen her the day before, he’d failed to ask her for her home number.
After fifteen minutes of irritation, he placed his hands on top of his desk and stared at the adjacent wall. He had shouted at the operator when she’d claimed she didn’t have a listing of employee positions, only their names and extensions. Picking up a case file off his credenza, he tried to concentrate but he was too distracted. He didn’t want his stomach to gurgle with acid. He detested the fact that he’d become unglued and cursed at an operator who was only attempting to earn a living. Only twenty-four hours after he’d seen Lily and he was already suffering the consequences.
“I’m going to lunch, June,” he said, striding into the outer office. “If the same woman calls again, give her the number to my cell phone.”
She looked shocked. “But you never give your cell phone number to clients. Maybe she’s a nutcase or something. What kind of person refuses to leave their name?”
“A person who’s in trouble,” Richard told her, grabbing an umbrella out of the stand by the front door before he stepped outside into the rain again.
12
By three o’clock that afternoon Lily had scraped together the ten thousand she needed to post John’s bail. She had emptied out her checking account, dipped into her savings, and still come up short. The remaining two thousand she had obtained by taking cash advances on her credit cards. When the first of the month rolled around, she wouldn’t be able to pay her bills. That was two weeks away, however, and she hoped to have arranged a loan through the credit union by then. Steering the car onto the 101 Freeway headed to Los Angeles, she dialed Richard’s office, then finally connected with him on his cell phone. “I need to see you right away.”
Richard was eating lunch. “Is something wrong? Why didn’t you leave your name when you called the office this morning?”
“I didn’t think it was a good idea,” she said. “Where are you?”
“At Madeline’s Restaurant in Ventura.”
“I’ve never heard of it,” Lily said, afraid she’d get lost. “How about the Elephant Bar? We both know where that place is.”
“Of course,” he said, even though he would have to call June and ask her to rearrange his afternoon schedule. “Can’t you tell me what this is about?”
“Not over the phone.” Lily depressed the gas pedal but tried to stay within the speed limit. The last thing she wanted was to cause an accident. “I’m on the outskirts of Camarillo right now. I think I can be there in fifteen minutes.”
As soon as she disconnected, Shana called. “I just got out of class and I don’t have a way to get home. When I got up this morning, my car was gone. I caught a ride with Jennifer.”
“Why don’t you see if she can pick you up?”
“I can’t find her,” her daughter told her. “Look, Dad and I had an argument last night. I took the keys to my car away from him. He must have found the spare set and taken the car anyway. He’s acting like such a jerk right now, Mom. You can’t imagine.”
The understatement of the year, Lily thought. “Can’t you take a bus?” She refused to tell her daughter over the phone that her father was in jail on charges of vehicular manslaughter.
“It’s raining. I’ve been sick, remember? That’s why I wanted to cut class and go home early today.” Shana stopped and blew her nose. “The last time Dad forgot to pick me up, I had to take the bus and then walk seven blocks.”
“What about a cab?” her mother suggested. “I’d come and get you, but I’m too far away. Do you have any money on you?”
“Only a few dollars,” Shana said pensively. “I didn’t expect you to come and get me, Mother. I only called because I thought you might have spoken to Dad today. I feel bad that I’ve been bugging you so much lately. It was silly for me to call you last night. I should have called the police myself.”
Lily searched her mind, trying to come up with a believable story. “Your father is probably in the middle of a real estate transaction,” she said. “Business has been slow lately. I’m sure you wouldn’t want him to miss out on an opportunity. I could be at the school in a few hours. Then we could have dinner together. Can’t you hang out in the library until I get there?”
They made arrangements to meet at the UCLA cafeteria at six o’clock that evening. “I don’t want Dad to drive my car anymore.”
The fact that John had been driving Shana’s Mustang at the time of the accident could cause enormous problems. Overnight, their lives had become a sham. John was lying to her. She had lied to him when confronted about the Hernandez homicide. Now she was lying to her daughter.
“We’ll discuss the car when I see you tonight.”
Lily could post John’s bail, but she knew the police wouldn’t release the car until the trial was over. Problems seemed to be rushing toward her like a freight train. Her mind was too weary to assimilate them, let alone come up with solutions. A car wasn’t like replacing your child’s goldfish when it died, then convincing her nothing had happened. How could she prevent Shana from learning the truth? The situation was too serious, and as usual, John had managed to make her the bearer of bad news. Her lips compressed in bitterness. She picked up the envelope containing the ten thousand dollars and clutched it in her hand, thinking of how long she had scrimped and saved, determined that Shana’s future would be secure. She decided her son of a bitch ex-husband would just have to cool his heels in jail.
On the outskirts of Ventura, she drove into what appeared to be the center of the thunderstorm. She flicked her windshield wipers on high, their clacking sound making her even more jittery. The heavy rain made it difficult to see where she was going, but luckily, the Elephant Bar was located on the access road to the freeway and its sign was large and distinctive. Lily saw Richard’s Lexus and pulled into the adjacent parking spot. She motioned to him, then leaned over and opened the passenger door to her Audi. Other than a battered pickup truck, the parking lot was empty. The bar didn’t open until four o’clock, one of the reasons she had thought it would be a good place for them to meet. “What’s going on?”
Lily explained the situation as calmly as possible. Having him near her made her feel stronger, less panicked. “I can’t take a chance on discussing this with anyone else,” she said. “I was going to bail John out, then I changed my mind on the drive down. Even if he suspects the truth, he doesn’t have proof.”
A tense silence ensued. “You might be making a mistake,” Richard said quietly. He saw the look on her face and quickly interjected, “Please, Lily, let me finish. I doubt if anyone really gives a damn who killed Hernandez. The only way the police will reopen the investigation is if someone higher up the ladder pressures them, maybe due to complaints from the victim’s family. Force John’s hand, and you have no idea what kind of can of worms you might be opening.”
Lily placed her head down on the steering wheel. The windows were fogged up, rain was beating down on the roof of the car, and Richard’s presence was no longer comforting. Her childhood had been difficult, if not abysmal. Her marriage to John had been goo
d in only one aspect—Shana. She had struggled to obtain her law degree, tried her best to be a loving parent, worked diligently in her career.
Richard lightly touched her arm. “Manny Hernandez saw you, Lily. He was the primary witness to his brother’s murder. He’s the one who helped the Oxnard P.D. put together that composite drawing of you.”
Instead of her earlier state of agitation, Lily suddenly felt like she had entered into another dimension, as if the past had overlapped the present. “Is that composite still floating around?”
“I have no idea,” he said. “Manny told Cunningham there was something peculiar about the person who murdered his brother, remember? I think he used the word spook, if I’m not mistaken. You know, like he thought you were a ghost. Your skin tone is extremely fair, and whether you realize it or not, you have distinctive features. Your high cheekbones, the shape of your eyes, your long neck, your height. Even under the duress of seeing his brother killed, Manny knew the shooter wasn’t another gang member.”
Scenes from the night of the rape played over in Lily’s mind. In addition to altering her license plate, she had attempted to disguise her appearance. At the time she’d shot Hernandez, her hair had been stuffed inside a blue knit ski cap, and she had been dressed in Levis and hiking boots. No one would ever imagine that a female district attorney would travel to one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in Oxnard, leap out of her red Honda Civic, slam a shotgun down on the roof of the car, then proceed to blow a man away. For all practical purposes, Lily had committed what most experts would consider the perfect murder. Shana and John had stumbled across a few pieces of the puzzle, but Detective Cunningham had come the closest to putting together the entire picture even before she had broken down and confessed to him. Although he had let her go in what she viewed was an act of compassion, she suspected the detective might have fallen in love with her.
“Are you following me, Lily?”
“Yes,” she said, a glassy look in her eyes. “But the police killed Manny Hernandez. A dead witness isn’t very effective.”
“I know,” Richard said tensely. “That’s not the point. The composite drawing was in all the newspapers. We have to find out what Bruce Cunningham did with the evidence.”
She glanced at her watch. “I promised Shana I would pick her up at six. We don’t have much longer. Do you know who took over Cunningham’s caseload?”
“Fred Jameson.”
Lily jerked her head around. The Oxnard Police Department, where Detective Cunningham had worked, no longer existed. A few years back it had merged with Ventura. “Are you certain? I mean, with the merger and all—”
“Yes,” Richard said, “I work with these guys all the time.”
“That settles it,” Lily said, telling him the details of the Evans case and what role she had played in overturning the conviction. “Jameson hates me. I’ll have to give in to John’s demands.”
“Post the idiot’s bail,” Richard told her, his teeth clenched. “If he continues to pressure you into giving him money for an attorney, I’ll arrange to have a friend of mine represent him. Then you won’t have to worry about the financial end of this mess, and we’ll have some control over the situation.”
“I can’t ask you to do that,” she said. “You’ll have to pay this man.”
“Money is the least of my concerns,” he said. “I care about you, Lily.”
“Hold me.” Once his arms were around her, she could feel his heart pounding. A few moments later she pulled back, fearful she was going to cry. “Maybe it’s time you stopped caring about me, Richard.”
He reached for the door handle. “I tried that, remember?” he said, stepping out into the rain. “You’ve got my cell phone number. Call me later tonight.”
13
Lily posted John’s bail at the Los Angeles County Jail shortly after five o’clock Wednesday evening. She had no intention of waiting for his paperwork to be processed, knowing it could be hours before he was released. As far as she was concerned, he could walk home.
After she parked in the visitors lot on the UCLA campus, she stopped in a rest room and washed her face, smeared on some lipstick, wiped the smudges of mascara from underneath her eyes, then secured her hair in a heart-shaped barrette at the base of her neck.
The cafeteria was located almost a mile from the parking lot. Lily was wearing a mustard-colored suit and high heels. Although the rain had finally stopped, the air was heavy and humid. She smoothed down her skirt, wrinkled from the hours she’d spent in the car. Shana was seated alone, staring at the screen on her laptop computer. “Hi, sweetheart,” Lily said, slipping into the chair across from her.
Her daughter closed the lid on her computer, then shoved it in her backpack. “Thanks for coming, Mom,” she said, standing and hugging her. “I have no idea what happened to Dad. I’ve been trying to reach him ever since I called you.”
“Let’s not worry about that right now,” Lily told her. “Are you hungry?”
The cafeteria was noisy and crowded. On the side where they served espresso, there was a long line. The food section consisted of primarily salads and sandwiches. “The food sucks in this place,” Shana told her. “Don’t you want to eat somewhere else?”
Even as tired as she was, Lily didn’t want to talk to her daughter in a restaurant. They could pick up something and eat at the duplex, but then she would have to risk running into John. There was also the problem of the car. “When is your first class tomorrow?”
“I only have one class on Thursdays.”
“When?”
“From seven to nine at night.”
“Great,” Lily said, standing to leave. “Let’s get going.”
Shana slipped her arms into her backpack, then followed Lily out of the cafeteria. “Why did you want to know when my next class is scheduled? Where are we going?”
“Santa Barbara.”
“I’ve had it,” Shana said, as exhausted and frustrated as her mother. “I was planning on coming up next weekend. Don’t you have to go to work in the morning? It doesn’t make sense for me to travel all the way up there for one night.”
“Please, Shana,” Lily said, deciding to take her shoes off and walk the rest of the way in her stockings. She’d rather ruin a cheap pair of nylons than end up with blisters on her feet. Outside of the courtroom she favored sneakers or sandals. “I’ll explain everything in the car.”
“How are you going to drive me back?” She stopped and stared at her mother’s feet. “Why aren’t you wearing your shoes? Is there a full moon or something? Everyone seems to have gone nuts today.”
“The parking lot is a long walk,” Lily told her. “I have tender skin, remember?” She placed her arm around the girl’s waist. The sky quickly darkened, almost as if the sun had dived into a murky black lake. Even on a clear night the frenetic pace of Los Angeles kept most of its residents from stopping long enough to appreciate the beauty of a sunset. Of course, the smog didn’t help. The campus itself was lovely, however, with an abundance of mature trees and a large expanse of greenery. “I’m sorry I upset you the other day.”
“It’s okay,” Shana said, keeping in step with her mother. “Are we at least going to stop by the house so I can pick up a change of clothes?”
“I’d rather we didn’t,” Lily told her. “We’re the same size. I’ve got plenty of things you can wear at my place.”
For some time they walked in silence, both of them deep in thought. Shana saw a bench and pointed at it. “Let’s sit,” she said, dropping down as if she were about to collapse. “I know something is wrong, Mother. Did Dad have a heart attack and die? Is that why you’re here, why you want me to go to Santa Barbara with you?”
“Of course not, honey,” her mother said, tenderly brushing her hair off her forehead.
“Then what—”
“I should have never told you about your father’s financial problems,” Lily said. “I suspected he was drinking again, so I got angry.�
��
“You were right,” Shana said. “He is drinking again.”
Lily sighed. “Regardless, it wasn’t right for me to tell you something he told me in confidence. Why do you think I’ve been pressuring you to live with someone other than your father?”
“You don’t want to support Dad.”
Lily’s voice took on a more authoritative tone. “I might have been concerned about making ends meet the other day, but something else related to your father has developed. I don’t want you involved, do you understand?”
“But I am involved.”
“I know you love him,” Lily said, looking down at her hands. “He’ll always be your father. But situations develop where you have to temporarily disconnect, even from someone as close as a parent.”
“I love you more than anything in the world,” Shana said. “You think Dad’s the reason I don’t spend more time with you.” She watched in envy as several students walked by, laughing and talking, wishing her own life were as carefree. “I have trouble staying with you,” she continued, sucking in a deep breath. “Please don’t take this wrong…but we were together that night …in that house you rented in Ventura.”
Lily said, “You don’t have to explain.”
“No,” she protested, her voice rising, then cracking. “I should have told you these things a long time ago. When I first saw your place in Santa Barbara, I wanted to scream. It’s surrounded by rosebushes, Mom!”
Lily opened her mouth, but her daughter cut her off. “Don’t interrupt me,” she said, tossing her backpack onto the ground. “That’s another thing you do that annoys me. When we’re together, you talk incessantly. You seem to think you have to entertain me, like you’re afraid of just being with me.” She removed a bottle of water from her backpack and took a swallow, then handed it to Lily. “The reason I don’t come up and see you isn’t because Santa Barbara bores me. I can’t sleep when I’m at your place. I’m afraid someone will climb through the window and either rape us or kill us.”
Buried Evidence Page 13
