Circumstantial Evidence

by Annette Broadrick

  "Disappointed?" His voice roughened as he began to cover her breasts and shoulders with soap.

  "Nope. I'm rather impressed, actually." Her eyes were twinkling as she looked at him demurely from beneath her lashes.

  He handed her back the soap and washcloth. "Since you started this, you might as well do my front, too." A definite gleam appeared in his eyes. From this angle Ashley noted that his body had been stimulated by the shower—or something.

  "Maybe I'd better let you do your own washing," she muttered as she vigorously soaped his chest and shoulders. "Here, you do the rest." She handed the cloth back to him and grabbed for the soap.

  "Oh, no, that's not fair. You got to wash me, now it's my turn." He began to ease the washcloth over her body in long, nerve-tingling strokes, starting at her shoulders and slowly sliding down to her thighs. Ashley's response was all Rafe could have wanted. She gazed up at him, her eyelids heavy with desire, then she reached up to kiss him as his arms came around her.

  "Oh, Rafe—"

  It was several hours before she returned Jeanine's call to tell her that they would be over.

  The rain that had started on Friday continued through the weekend. It was the steady, soaking rain that was so much a part of the fall and winter months in the Pacific Northwest. The rain tapping on the windowpanes provided a counterpoint to the spirited conversation around the dining table at Raul and Jeanine's. The impending lawsuit was the topic.

  Raul told Rafe and Ashley the results of the investigation of his employees.

  "I'm very much afraid James Jackson is involved in the accident," Raul said.

  Rafe looked up from his plate. "But James has been your plant manager for the past five years. What would make you suspect him, of all people?"

  "Nothing concrete, I'm afraid. Just a general attitude of surliness where there hadn't been one before —a defensiveness that seems out of character."

  "Do you think he's the one who set up the accident, or that he knows who did?"

  "I haven't a clue. Either way, it would end his career with us." He glanced at Ashley. "My counselor keeps telling me not to worry—that's what I pay her to do." He grinned, his resemblance to Rafe intensifying.

  Rafe's eyes rested on Ashley with a warmth that caused her to shift in her chair. "So what do you think, counselor? Can we win this one?"

  "We're going to do our best. The company's clean record over the past several years is a point in our favor. What we really need to do is to prove that the spill was, in fact, engineered. Why would one of your employees sabotage you like that?"

  "That's what I can't figure out." Raul refilled their wine glasses as Jeanine took their plates into the kitchen. "I can't figure the motive. If we're forced to shut down, who would benefit from it? Certainly not the employees."

  Ashley spoke thoughtfully. "Who would benefit if you were shut down?"

  Jeanine returned to the room and volunteered, "Well, Tysinger probably wouldn't benefit from it, but he would certainly be glad to hear that we lost our business."

  As a result of their report, Tysinger had been indicted along with several others and was awaiting trial for taking bribes to protect the marijuana growers. The investigation had uncovered several million dollars worth of marijuana.

  "Could Tysinger be behind something like this, Ashley?" Jeanine asked.

  "If he is, it would be tough to prove. I'm sure he wouldn't allow himself to be directly involved."

  Rafe mentioned a possibility. "It might be worth checking out the activities of that guy Tysinger sent to get Rafe—you remember, Pete Wilson. What do you think?"

  "I think any idea is worth pursuing at this point," Ashley responded. "The hearing is set for this coming Friday. We don't have much time."

  "Will you be here on Friday, Rafe?" Raul's question was one Ashley had wanted to ask, but she wasn't sure she wanted to hear his answer.

  Rafe sat there for a moment, mentally reviewing his schedule. "There's a possibility I could get away Thursday night, but I'd have to turn around and go back on Saturday." He looked over at Ashley with a question in his eyes. She smiled her response. Whenever he could make it would be fine. "I've never seen Ashley in action. This should prove interesting."

  Ashley overslept the next morning, having forgotten to set her alarm. If Tasha hadn't awakened her by sitting on her chest and licking her nose, she might have spent the day asleep.

  My hectic weeks and sleepless weekends are beginning to catch up with me, she decided, as she forced herself out of bed and under the shower. She smiled as she remembered that she and Rafe had managed to get some sleep over the weekend, but at rather odd hours. By the time she arrived in the kitchen, Rafe had coffee made and was carrying on one of his many conversations with Tasha, who sat on a chair next to him and listened while he kept an eye on the frying bacon.

  Without a word Ashley padded over, sat down on his lap, and buried her head in his neck. He smelled so good. His aftershave lotion should be banned from the market, she thought. It was alluring enough to create riots. Rafe took the opportunity to kiss her exposed neck, which caused chills to run down her body. They smelled the burning bacon at the same time. Rafe jumped to his feet, almost causing Ashley to fall flat on her bottom. As she scrambled to get her balance, he attempted to rescue their breakfast.

  "I wish you'd warn me when you're going to make sudden moves like that," she complained.

  He was busy placing fresh strips of bacon in the skillet and gave her a brief glance over his shoulder. "Sorry, I seem to be out of practice on how to treat a woman." His grin contradicted the serious tone of voice.

  She decided to ignore the comment and began to prepare orange juice and toast. She tried not to cling to him when he was ready to leave, and her only comfort was the work waiting for her when he was gone. She hoped he would be able to make it back on Thursday. As the days went by Ashley had the same thought more than once.

  The investigator's supplemental report on James Jackson turned up some interesting news about his son that Ashley thought might be the clue they were looking for, but it was a long shot. As the week progressed, it became obvious to her that it was the only chance they had. If she could prove in court that the suit had been filed in order to strike back at the McCords, she had a good chance of getting the case dismissed. Unfortunately, the burden of proof for that allegation fell on her. The only way she could prove it would be to get Jackson on the stand and force him to admit that he had deliberately caused the spill. Could she do it? Would the judge allow it? Would opposing counsel stand for it? She didn't know, but she could see no other way to win Raul the time needed to fulfill his company's contracts.

  At that point in her hectic week, Ashley received a phone call that wiped all thoughts of her profession from her mind. Her doctor's office was calling to report on the tests they'd run the week before. "Your test was positive," a nurse told her cheerfully. "You're pregnant."

  Ashley replaced the phone in a state of shock. Pregnant. Of course they had done nothing to prevent it from happening, but somehow she hadn't expected it. Once more she wished for Rafe's presence. This was one piece of news she couldn't tell him over the phone. They had never discussed a family, but she knew he would make an excellent father. It was herself that she was unsure of. What did she know about babies? Could she cope with a family and a career? She really needed Rafe's comforting at the moment.

  When the phone rang the second time, Ashley felt immune to any further shocks.

  It was Ralph Begley and he wanted to see her. Mystified—she hadn't talked with him since their meeting months before—she waited to hear what was on his mind. It wasn't long in coming.

  "I understand that you agreed to represent a new client for us: McCord Industries?"

  Puzzled, Ashley replied, "That's right, sir. They were served with papers last week and asked me to represent them."

  "I see." Begley sat back in his large overstuffed chair, his fingers drumming on the arm. "Isn't that
your husband's name?"

  "Yes, sir." She smiled pleasantly.

  "Does he hold some interest in the company?" Begley's eyes were cold.

  "No, he doesn't. The firm is owned and operated by Raul McCord, my husband's brother." She waited, knowing he'd get to the purpose of his questions sooner or later.

  A sigh escaped Begley, and his jaw seemed to set. "You know, Ashley, I recognize that you're a relative newcomer to this area." He paused, making sure he had her undivided attention. "Maybe you aren't aware of just how high feelings run against these big companies that have pushed their way into our area from California. It's not enough that they've destroyed the air and water down there so nobody can live in it." Once again he paused as though keeping a tight rein on his emotions. "Now they're trying to turn Oregon into the same kind of wasteland." His look dared Ashley to refute his statements.

  She sat quietly, waiting for him to continue.

  "Our firm has been very careful not to support any particular faction involved in the environmental dispute. We have to be nonpartisan. We're here to provide a service to our clients, but we, ourselves, don't take sides. But then, you already know that, don't you?"

  "Yes, sir."

  He leaned forward in his chair, his expression hard.

  "I don't want you handling the case."

  A tiny gasp escaped from Ashley. "Mr. Begley, the hearing is set to take place in two days."

  "Yes, well, I want you to tell McCord you can't represent him, that this firm cannot represent him." His statement rang with finality.

  "But what reason can I possibly give for doing that, sir?" she asked.

  "Conflict of interest."

  "What conflict of interest, Mr. Begley?"

  Astonishment rolled across Begley's face like a cloud crossing the sun. Nobody argued with this man, not members of the firm, anyway. "I just explained to you, Ashley. We do not represent any California companies that move up here and pollute our air and water supplies."

  "Mr. Begley, sir… In the first place, no one has proved that that's what McCord Industries is doing. After going into all the facts during the past few days, I have found no evidence to support the charges against them. There has been only one incident of contamination since they opened, and I don't think it was an accident."

  "Fine. Then let someone else represent them. They shouldn't have any trouble finding legal representation elsewhere."

  "But, Mr. Begley," she implored, "I've already accepted the case and prepared for it. No one else could possibly give adequate representation with less than two days to prepare." She could not believe that he would close his mind to the ethical considerations involved in suddenly refusing to represent a client without adequate cause.

  Begley's expression pinned Ashley to her chair much like a butterfly to a board. "You are too closely involved to give objective counseling. You should never have accepted the case in the first place." He glanced at his watch. "I have an appointment now, Ashley. I'm afraid I don't have time for further discussion."

  Ashley nodded and stood up, staring at Ralph Begley as though she'd never seen him before. She had her orders. It was up to her to carry them out.

  Chapter Nine

  By the time Ashley reached her office she was shaking so much she could barely stand. Withdraw from the case. How simple that sounded. Such an easy command to make, but how could she drop Raul's case two days before trial? Her integrity was at stake.

  She needed to get away, to come to grips with the pain she was feeling. Thank God she'd kept her afternoon clear of appointments.

  Ashley escaped from the office and drove to Washington Park. Perched high on one of the western hills, the park directly overlooked Portland. Its rose garden was one of her favorite places in the city. Although the air was cool there was no wind, and she found the garden deserted.

  She wandered through the roses and finally settled on a bench that gave a clear view of the city. Images from the past began to drift across her mind. She remembered her father's shock when she first informed him that she wanted to become a lawyer and her mother's quiet support of Ashley's desire to go out in the world. She remembered the hours of study during her pre-law courses, the grueling hours spent in law school, and her single-minded efforts to build a career during the last five years. How ironic that the career she sought to save by a hasty marriage now threatened that same marriage.

  Ashley had reached a point in her life when she had to make a choice. The news of her pregnancy caused an upsurge of unfamiliar feelings. She had never given much thought to having a family. If she had, she would have pictured herself in the role her mother had chosen, but Rafe had taught her so much about relationships. She and Rafe were entirely different from her own parents, and in her heart Ashley knew that she could depend on Rafe's loving support to help raise their child. Now that the shock had worn off, she was becoming excited about her pregnancy, wondering whether she would have a miniature Rafe, knowing she would love his child.

  Over the months, Ashley's life had moved into a new dimension of love and fulfillment. Rafe had given her so much and had asked for so little in return.

  She also acknowledged that, regardless of who a client was, she could not in clear conscience refuse to represent that client so close to the date of the hearing. It was not fair to the client or to the attorney who would attempt to replace her. Her professional integrity was now on the line.

  As she began to weigh her options she knew she had no choice, professionally or personally. Ralph Begley had delivered his ultimatum. By ignoring it, she knew she forfeited all chances of being made a partner. Her very job would be at stake.

  A cool breeze finally interrupted Ashley's concentration, and she realized that she'd been sitting in one position for hours. It was time to go home. The phone was ringing when she walked into her house. Throwing her coat and purse at a chair, she grabbed the receiver.

  "Hello?" she said in a breathless voice.

  "Ashley? What's wrong?" Rafe sounded so close that he could have been in the next room. Oh, how she wished he were. Unexpected tears flowed. She bit her lip, trying to regain control of herself.

  "Nothing's wrong, Rafe. I just rushed to get the phone." Her voice had a definite wobble in it, but perhaps he would attribute the sound to the long-distance line.

  "I thought I'd let you know I'm going to be able to manage that quick trip to Oregon. Can you pick me up at the airport Thursday night at nine?"

  "You know better than to ask that question. You'll recognize me when you get off the plane. I'll be the one doing handsprings along the concourse."

  He was still laughing when they hung up. Rafe was coming. Life suddenly looked a great deal brighter. She wasn't sure how she'd broach the subject of her pregnancy. Perhaps she would wait until the hearing was behind her. She might have to tell him she was not only pregnant but metaphorically barefoot, or at least unemployed. She was already recovering from the shock of Begley's demand and realized she wasn't as upset as she would have been a year earlier. Begley, Henderson & Howe wasn't the only law office in town. She had built a reputation that would enable her to find another position. Rafe and the baby were more important concerns in her life at the moment. She could hardly wait to see Rafe's reaction to the news of the impending arrival.

  Flight 287 from San Francisco arrived on time. Ashley felt certain she couldn't have survived the wait much longer. Her face glowing, she watched as each person stepped through the door of the plane. Rafe's face lit up when he spotted her. When he reached her he pulled her into his arms, kissing her passionately as he crushed her body against his.

  She managed to pull away from him, her face flushed and her eyes sparkling. "Rafe"—she glanced around quickly—"everybody's watching! Despite rumor to the contrary, not every trial lawyer is an exhibitionist." The look he gave her caused her color to turn a deeper shade of pink. He'd mentally stripped her and made love to her with his eyes. She found him irresistible when he was in this mood, and
she had trouble keeping her hands away from him until they could reach the car.

  He'd carried one bag on the plane, so they went directly to the car in the parking lot. After throwing the bag in the back, Rafe slid into the front seat next to her and then turned to her. "I don't dare start kissing you here, or we'll get arrested before I finish."

  She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

  "There. Hopefully that will hold you until we get home." She batted her eyelashes with coy bashful-ness.

  "Not very likely, but I'll try to contain myself."

  As Rafe found change to pay the parking fee, Ashley managed to move a little closer to him and rested her hand on his thigh. She could feel his muscles flex while he tried to ignore her. She didn't help matters by stroking his leg with a feather touch.

  "Enough!" he growled as he grabbed her hand. He moved it back to her lap, where his hand lingered, finding that he had access to various areas belonging to Ashley.

  "Not fair, Rafe," she remonstrated as she wriggled in her seat.

  "I'm glad to know you agree with me. Now behave yourself." He flashed her a smile that reminded her of why she'd married him in the first place. They were worse than a couple of teenagers who couldn't keep their hands away from each other. Ashley grinned at the thought. Somehow she had missed that part of growing up, but she was glad she had waited to share it with Rafe.

  Tasha greeted them at the door and, when she saw Rafe, marched over to him and welcomed him with a purr and a soft caress of her back against his leg. Tasha never did that to anyone, not even Ashley.

  "I don't believe this. What have you done to my cat?"

  He carried his bag into the bedroom. "I haven't done anything."