Buried Evidence

by Nancy Taylor Rosenberg

  “What about the middle term?” Shana asked. “What would make a judge go in that direction?”

  Lily pushed her dessert plate aside, happy to share the knowledge she possessed with her daughter. “Envision the scales of justice.”

  Shana’s face lit up. She held her palms out on both sides of her body. “I get it,” she said. “A judge would select the middle term if all these factors you just described were more or less evenly balanced, right?”

  “Exactly,” her mother said, smiling at Richard. “There’s no doubt that you’ll pass your law school entrance exam.”

  “You really think so?”

  “For sure,” Richard agreed. “Of course, with Lily as your mother, I wouldn’t have expected anything less.”

  “Can you have breakfast with us tomorrow morning?” Lily asked, feeling as if they hadn’t had a chance to simply visit with one another due to the nature of their dinner conversation. “There’s a great breakfast place in Summerland. I’m certain it was there when you were growing up, Rich, but I don’t remember the name.” Summerland was a small town only a few miles away, yet far more casual and beachy than Montecito. The rich and famous, however, still showed up there from time to time. People claimed Hillary and Bill Clinton had even shopped for homes in Summerland several years back.

  “As long as I can get to the courthouse by ten,” Richard said. “Is eight too early?”

  “Eight is perfect,” Lily told him. She was still uncertain how she was going to proceed in regard to Shana’s school and living situation. She knew she would have to check into the office for a few hours the next day, if for nothing else than to touch base and bring some paperwork home to work on over the weekend.

  They proceeded to toss around the merits of various law schools. Shana wanted to make arrangements to see Greg as well, but since she didn’t know where she was going to be living, she asked his father for his phone number and jotted down her e-mail address. Like most of the college kids today, she seldom went anywhere without her computer.

  “I wasn’t putting Greg down about his job,” Richard said, slightly defensive. “He’s working hard. He probably told you I pitched a fit when he told me he didn’t want to be a lawyer. In retrospect, I think he would have made a mistake if he’d gone into law.”

  “Why’s that?” Shana asked, tilting her head to one side.

  “At this point in history,” he told her, “I think the world needs more marine biologists than it does attorneys.”

  Shana took a bite of her chocolate cake, then placed her fork back on the table. “Do you think I’m making a mistake as well?”

  “No,” Richard answered. “I think people have different aptitudes and interests. I didn’t mean to imply that being an attorney isn’t a worthwhile way to earn a living.”

  “Shana will be wonderful,” Lily said, placing her arm around her daughter. They were sitting together, with Richard on the opposite side of the table. The interior of the restaurant was similar to a cave or a wine cellar. The stone walls gave it a damp, chilly feeling, even with several logs burning in the fireplace. Above the bar there were three circular stained-glass wall hangings, each one depicting a different season. Lily spotted autumn, spring, and summer. For some reason, perhaps space constraints, the one for winter had been positioned on the wall next to their booth. “We were talking this afternoon, Rich,” she continued. “I believe Shana has what it takes to become a fabulous legislator. I’d like to see her writing laws someday, or at least working toward cleaning up some of the convoluted language and outdated statutes.”

  “The problem is, Lily,” he said, “that when anyone makes an attempt to improve things, we generally end up with what turns out to be nothing more than some politician’s catchy campaign slogans. We’re still dealing with the three-strikes-and-you’re-out bill. Wasn’t it supposed to put an end to recidivism? I personally thought it was absurd. Where are we going to warehouse all these prisoners? We need more rehabilitation programs, not more ridiculous laws.”

  “I concur to some degree,” Lily said. “I forgot to mention, Shana, that there were some outlandish instances where offenders received life sentences for stealing something as trivial as a candy bar.”

  Shana asked, “How did that happen?”

  “It was their third felony conviction, and that’s what ‘three strikes and you’re out’ means.” Lily paused. “The problem is, we’re not talking about baseball. These are human lives.”

  “If the crime they committed was a felony,” Shana argued, “then they must have taken the candy bar during a robbery. Isn’t that the way you explained the analogy of the guy stealing milk for his kid? So what if the person they robbed didn’t have a lot of valuables? That law doesn’t sound absurd to me. A robbery is a serious crime. No one can predict what kind of property the person has on them, unless it’s a bank or they’ve already been inside their house.” She stopped and stared out over the restaurant, for her thoughts had returned to the missing picture.

  “I’d hire you,” Richard blurted out, placing his hands on the edge of the table. “Next summer you can intern in my office if you’re interested. It’s hard to find young people with your kind of reasoning ability.”

  “Really?” Shana said, excited. “You realize I’m only in my second year of college.”

  “Trust me,” he said, asking the waiter for a check, “I could use you right now. That was a valid job offer I just made. And it has nothing to do with my friendship with your mother.”

  Shana leaned back in her seat, flattered by his offer. Lily was sad their evening together was about to come to an end. For the past hour and a half they had enjoyed themselves. Richard was the proverbial charmer, and Shana had grown into a polished young lady. Seeing her in jeans and sweatshirts most of the time, Lily reflected on how stunning she looked in the clingy black dress, her hair slicked away from her face in a French twist, the top portion exploding in what resembled a flower arrangement of shiny red curls. She didn’t wear eye makeup, only a touch of mascara, but she loved lipstick. When they had first walked into the restaurant, people had stared at them as if they were celebrities. Lily had no doubt that it was Shana who generated the attention. She didn’t mind being in her daughter’s shadow. The only thing she regretted was coming to the realization that her only child was maturing so quickly.

  “Let me pay for this,” Lily said, picking the check up off the table. “You drove all this way.”

  “In my book,” Richard said, smiling rakishly, “ladies don’t pay. Besides, I can think of a dozen men who would give their right arm to have dinner with two gorgeous and intelligent women.”

  “Don’t lay it on too thick,” Lily said, shifting her eyes to her daughter. “Let’s set the record straight. I’m buying breakfast tomorrow. And whether you realize it or not, women have a tendency not to believe a man when he heaps on too many compliments.”

  “At school,” Shana laughed, a wispy strand of hair tumbling onto her forehead, “my friends and I think guys who drool all over us are just saying things to get in our pants.”

  “Listen to your friends,” he said, a fatherly expression on his face.

  As Richard escorted them to their car, he recalled his dinner with Joyce at the Indian restaurant. She hadn’t moved her things out of his house yet, but she’d called the office that morning and apologized for the way she had behaved, claiming she didn’t want them to end their relationship as enemies. Rather than take a chance on her having another tantrum, though, he had no intention of returning to the house until he was certain she was gone. While Joyce had been at her office that morning, he’d sent June over to pick up some of his clothes. After the nerve-racking pace of the previous week, he’d booked himself into the resort for the weekend. Of course, he didn’t want to say anything in front of Shana, but he hoped to entice Lily to come back to his bungalow later that night. This would also give him a chance to speak to her privately about what he had learned about Marco Curazon. He
was also somewhat reluctant for Lily and her daughter to stay in the guest house alone, one of the reasons he had rented such a large place for the weekend.

  Shana realized she’d left her purse in the restaurant and hurried back inside, leaving Richard and Lily waiting for the valet. He pressed a key into her hands, and a card with directions to his bungalow. “Come over later,” he whispered. “We can talk privately.”

  “I can’t,” Lily said, sensing he wanted to do more than talk. “Not when Shana is here.”

  “Listen to me,” Richard said, seizing her arm. “Didn’t you tell me some of her friends attend the university here in Santa Barbara?”

  “She has several girlfriends that go to school here,” Lily said. “What are you suggesting?”

  “She’s a young girl, Lily,” he told her, wanting to accomplish his objective without being blatant about it, reluctant to frighten Shana any more than she already was. “Maybe it would be good for her to be with someone her own age, you know. She could stay at one of their houses tonight. That way we’d have some private time together.”

  Lily glanced at her watch. It was nine-thirty, and she felt odd asking Shana to try to find one of her friends and impose herself on them. Seeing her walking toward them, she whispered to Richard, “I’ll ask her in the car after we leave, then buzz you back and let you know.”

  “What are you guys talking about?” Shana asked, stepping up beside them.

  “Nothing,” her mother said. “Just the resort.”

  “Your mother says you have some friends in this area.” Richard decided to take control. “They tell me Thursday is the innight to go out dancing. Greg comes up here every now and then to surf and visit some of his friends. He claims the clubs are too crowded on Friday and Saturday nights.”

  “Are you serious?” Shana asked, tilting her head to one side. “You really want to take my mom and me out dancing?”

  Great, Richard thought facetiously. He had talked himself into a corner. “Not exactly,” he said. “I mean, I’d love to take you both dancing one of these days, but that wasn’t my intention. I was trying to suggest that you might want do something with people in your own age group.”

  Shana fell silent, her eyes shifting to Lily’s face, then back to Richard’s. “Ronnie came up and stayed with me about a month ago,” she said, popping a mint into her mouth. “I didn’t do much but sit around all day today and worry.”

  “Everything is going to be fine.”

  “Yeah,” Shana said, shuffling her feet around on the gravel driveway. “I’ve got Ronnie’s phone numbers in my purse, as well as a few other people. I guess I could call around and see if anything’s going on.”

  Both Richard and Lily offered her their cell phones at the same exact moment. Shana had intended to pretend she didn’t know what was going on between them, but she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “People your age are funny,” she said. “I’m the kid, remember? It’s okay. You have every right to tell me to get lost. Where are you staying, Richard?”

  “Here,” he said, chagrined at how easily she had figured out the situation, maybe not about his concern for them to stay at the cottage, but his secondary objective, which was to get Lily alone. “It was close to your mother’s place, and I haven’t been here in a long time.”

  “So you’re registered under Fowler, right?” Shana asked, winking as she climbed into the driver’s seat of her mother’s car.

  “What are you doing?” Lily exclaimed, chasing after her. “I don’t want you to go home alone. Richard was just making a suggestion.”

  “I probably know more people in this town than you do, Mom,” Shana said, holding the cell phone up to the window. “I’ll check in with you in about fifteen minutes. I’ll probably spend the night with Ronnie.” Before Lily could stop her, she turned the key in the ignition and sped off.

  22

  Richard and Lily walked up a fairly steep hill to his bungalow, both of them lost in their thoughts. The valet had offered to take them in a golf cart, but they decided to walk. Each of the bungalows at the ranch had been given a name. “Magnolia, huh?” Lily said, squinting to read the little wooden sign in the dark. “I love magnolia trees.”

  “Good,” Richard said. “Then I picked the right place.”

  The resort also had wall-mounted slots where they inserted the names of the guests during their stay. That is, if the guest wanted his name displayed. Many people who visited the ranch possessed the type of fame that made them constantly dodge exposure, and recently the owner had required that all employees sign a confidentiality agreement swearing they wouldn’t reveal the names of guests who were either on the property or who had stayed there on previous occasions. The only people they excluded were long-dead notables, whose publicity shots they proudly displayed on the walls. The establishment’s pride was the legendary bungalow John and Jackie Kennedy had stayed in on their honeymoon. They named it the “Kennedy Suite,” while the remainder of the bungalows were named after trees, plants, or flowers.

  Richard Fowler might not be a recognizable name throughout the universe, but he had asked that his name not be placed on the door. All he needed was his dish-throwing former girlfriend to come storming into the bungalow.

  “I don’t feel right,” Lily said while he was unlocking the door.

  “Why?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder. “Because of Shana?”

  “Of course,” she said, hugging her arms around her chest in the chilly night air. “I don’t want my daughter to know my personal affairs.”

  “At least you used the right word.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Richard stepped inside and flipped on the lights, taking Lily’s hand and pulling her into his arms. “Don’t you think Shana knows we had an affair?” He kissed her on the forehead. “She even called my office pretending to be your secretary years ago, inviting me over for dinner. She wanted to patch things up between us, remember? She doesn’t want you to hide from the world,

  Lily.”

  His statements hit too close to home; Lily disentangled herself from his arms. “Don’t you understand? I want Shana to feel she can rely on you if this thing with John gets out of hand. Imagine how a girl her age would feel knowing her attorney was sleeping with her mother.”

  Richard made a sweeping movement with his arm in the direction of the living room and separate bedroom. “It’s not like I invited you back to a motel room, Lily,” he told her. “This place is almost the same size as your guest house. Shana can come over tomorrow night if you like. We can even have dinner brought in from the restaurant.”

  “Tomorrow night?” she said, a puzzled look on her face. “You’re not going back to Ventura after you make your court appearance tomorrow?”

  “No,” he said. “I booked this place through Sunday.”

  Lily turned around in a small circle, her palm pressed to her forehead. “It’s not that long of a drive, Richard. Don’t tell me you’re going to charge this to your client.”

  “You know me better than that,” he said. “Now that you mentioned it, though, maybe I should bill him. This isn’t one of my favorite clients.”

  “Henry Middleton, right?”

  “God, no,” he said, grimacing. “I’m referring to the drug dealer. The last thing I want to talk about tonight is the Middleton case.”

  “What if someone saw us at the restaurant?” Lily asked, concerned that they might compromise the case. “With everything that’s been happening, I actually forgot you were representing him. I’ll call Shana now and have her pick me up.”

  “Stop it, Lily,” he said, so frustrated he wanted to pull his hair out. “I just told you we weren’t going to discuss the Middleton case. We’re not acting in collusion. Can’t we enjoy what’s left of the evening?”

  “Whatever,” Lily said, wandering around the bungalow. It appeared to have everything a person could ever need, with the special touches and warmth of a home. There was a dining room t
able, a kitchen, and lovely but comfortable furnishings in the detached living room, along with dozens of gadgets such as TVs, a video and DVD player, and what appeared to be a high-quality stereo system. Lily stepped through French doors into the bedroom, appreciating the fact that the room could be closed off from the rest of the cottage. Some people liked to sleep in an open space or have one room flow freely into the other. Lily preferred to sleep in a smaller room. If she awoke during the night, she didn’t want to have to stumble around trying to find the bathroom only to end up on the other side of the house.

  The bed itself was covered with a green linen comforter. White robes with the resort’s logo emblazoned on the front were folded neatly on each side of the king-size bed, a note indicating that they could be purchased as a souvenir and were not included with the room. On the end tables were cherub candle holders containing vanilla-scented candles. The housekeeping staff must have already performed their evening duties, as the bed was turned down. Placed on an angle at the foot of the bed was a wicker tray containing bath salts, exotic oils, and a small gold box of Godiva chocolates, along with a single white orchid in a china vase.

  Glancing at Lily out of the corner of his eye, Richard slipped his jacket off his shoulders, walking into the bedroom to hang it up in the closet. Lily backed into the shadows, marveling at how a man of his height could carry himself with such grace and agility. His footsteps hardly made a sound, and his arms and legs appeared to move in perfect synchronization.

  “I have some fabulous wine,” he said, having ordered it in advance. “One of the reasons I didn’t order wine with our dinner is I didn’t want Shana to feel slighted. I know she’s under drinking age.” He looked at her and smiled. “Another reason is this is a special French Bordeaux, bottled in 1984. I was shocked that they even had it when I called. But then, the ranch is renowned for its wine cellar.”

  “I’ll pass on the wine, Richard,” she told him. “I’m not interested in drinking right now.”