“Of course.”
“Kay, give it to her straight and make sure she’s ready to go through with this. I don’t have time to waste if she’s not serious.”
The slight wrinkling of her nose told him she didn’t like his blasé attitude. He forged on anyway. “Get a contract, a retainer and work this if she’s a go.”
“What type of retainer?”
Van turned away from her and retrieved his briefcase, then slapped his hand on the doorknob leading outside the courtroom. “You’re going to be an attorney soon, Kay. Typically a retainer involves money, preferably in US dollars.” With that he turned the knob and exited the room.
Charise Faucett was an extraordinarily tall woman. When she stood from the conference room table to greet her, it was all Kay could do not to step up on her tippy-toes. The traffic on Loop 12 had been heavier than she’d anticipated on the way back to the office from court. She mentally rolled her shoulders back and gave the woman’s hand a firm tug, then motioned that she should sit back down.
“Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?”
Charise shook her head, brushing a few strands of wavy brown hair from in front of her eyes and back behind her ears. There was a purplish bruise along her jawline that was puffy enough Kay presumed it to be only a day or two days old.
“So, why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” Kay suggested, pulling out her own chair and making herself comfortable, a pen and yellow notepad in front of her.
“Well, I don’t know. Where should I start? What do you need to know?”
Glancing at the interview questionnaire Mrs. Faucett had completed just a moment ago, Kay took note of the date of marriage, scribbling that onto her pad. “So you were married in 1998. Overall how do you think your marriage has been?”
A ragged sigh escaped the woman’s lips, and she glanced at the closed door to the conference room. She might have been considering an escape, Kay surmised. Or she might have been thinking of her two sons, both of them sitting in the lobby waiting for her.
“We’re like any couple. You know, everyone has disagreements.”
“Do your disagreements usually lead to things like that bruise on your face?”
Mrs. Faucett raised her fingers towards her chin but refrained from touching the mark on her skin. She swallowed, and then folded her hands in her lap. “No, this wasn’t … this hasn’t happened often. Really only in the last year. He’s under a lot of stress. The business went through a down turn. But it will pick up and…”
She stopped and gritted her teeth. Kay knew why. She’d been on the verge of saying things would get better. On the verge of trying to convince herself that things would improve. Kay looked at her hard, piercing her with a gaze. She flinched and nodded as if resigned.
“Why don’t you tell me about this recent incident? The police were called?”
Charise bobbed her head as she turned her attention to her fingers, picking at a hangnail while she collected her thoughts. “We’ve been trying to acquire some land adjacent to the ranch. It has better water access and with the drought, that’s been our major concern. Scott’s been putting all he has into this deal. When he came home Tuesday night, he was angry. I mean, really pissed off, and all of us knew. Junior says he can always tell by the way his dad closes the door.”
Kay continued scribbling notes even as her eyes cast over to the information sheet with all the parties’ information. Scott Faucett, Jr. was only fourteen years old.
“So we all just try to stay out of Scott’s way when that happens. The kids all went off to their rooms, and I was finishing up the laundry. When he noticed I was packing, he came unglued. The visit to my parents’ for Christmas has been planned for weeks. But he said the closing for the property was pushed back, and he had work to do to make sure the deal didn’t fall through.”
“Couldn’t you have gone to see your family without him?”
Charise Faucett’s head snapped up, her eyes wide. “It wouldn’t have even been a discussion before. But this time he was different.” She inhaled, wrung her left hand in her right, and shook her head. “He said we weren’t going. Told me to put the effin’ suitcases away. When I didn’t, he grabbed my arm. I tried to pull back, and he shoved me away from the door. That’s when I hit the nightstand.”
Kay watched her rub her chin, staring off into nothing and getting lost in the memory.
“Are you all right?”
She twitched, then faked a smile. “I tried to get up, but he grabbed me and threw me into the bed. When I tried to crawl away, he grabbed the suitcase and threw it at me, striking me in the back.”
When the woman handed her an envelope, Kay swallowed and accepted it with a stoic expression. On top was a police report from the night in question along with the magistrate’s order for protection. In incidents of family violence, these could be issued on an emergency basis, but in order to keep Mr. Faucett away from her and her children, Charise would need to file for a permanent order.
There were about ten or so photographs in the envelope as well. Looking at Mrs. Faucett, one wouldn’t have expected the types of injuries the photos depicted. There was a huge black bruise across her spine. Kay imagined it was probably about a foot and a half long at the widest point. There were also images of finger impressions marring her upper arms. Kay looked at each one then stacked them neatly and set them to the side.
“We should file a petition for divorce along with an application for an order of protection immediately.”
“But there’s already a protective order.”
Kay nodded as she tapped the end of her pen against the pad. “Yes, that’s true, but a magistrate’s order isn’t permanent. With the holidays coming, court schedules will be hectic. The sooner the application is on file, the sooner we can see about getting you in front of the judge to finalize it. A permanent order lasts two years and can be renewed as needed. Then we can focus on the divorce issues individually.”
“What about the business? Money? Can I stay in the house? The boys will have tuition due at the beginning of the year.”
Kay smiled reassuringly. “We’ll seek temporary orders immediately as well. Request spousal maintenance so that you and the children will have your needs met.”
Charise took a moment to consider things, and while she did, Kay continued jotting down notes, skimming the police report in greater detail. When the client leaned forward and folded her hands in front of her on the table, Kay raised her eyes and waited.
“Okay, you’re right. How do we get started?”
Kay finished the sentence she’d been writing and then began gathering up some of the papers around her. “We’ll need an initial retainer of ten thousand dollars. Give us a few moments to draw up some paperwork, including an affidavit for you. I’d also like to interview your oldest son if that’s all right with you.”
“Junior? No, why do you want to talk to him?”
Standing, Kay gripped her pen with both hands in front of her. “The police report states he came in between you and your husband during the altercation. I’d like to hear from him what happened. He’s also old enough the judge could consider his wishes regarding custody.”
“Could I lose custody?” Her voice squeaked with alarm.
“Mrs. Faucett, I don’t expect that at all. But it’s our job to be thorough. Mr. Van Buren is very good at this, and it’s my job to be sure he has all of the tools to get you the best outcome possible.”
Once out of the conference room, Kay immediately located Van’s legal assistant, Tamara Chaney. “We’ll need a contract for Mrs. Faucett.” She scribbled details about the retainer onto the client questionnaire and handed it to the woman along with the photographs and other documents. “I’d rather keep these originals, but feel free to make her a set of color copies. I’ll be drawing up an affidavit for a protective order. Also, be sure the children don’t need anything. They’re in the lobby.”
While Mrs. Faucett was reviewing the aff
idavit and other legal documents, Kay invited Junior Faucett into her office. He was a skinny kid, with long lanky limbs, and she figured her thumb and index finger would touch if she wrapped them around one of his arms. He sat down in the chair she offered him, whispering a polite thank you.
“You sure you don’t want anything to drink? We’ve got soda, water.”
He shook his head, then giving it some thought, decided a verbal answer was more appropriate. “No, ma’am.”
“So tell me about what happened the other day. When your mom and dad fought.”
His lanky legs were dangling back and forth over the end of the chair. He watched them a few moments and inhaled deep. “I knew he was in a bad mood. I can usually tell. I told Brian he could come play Xbox in my room for a while, and we closed the door.”
“I bet it can be pretty scary when your dad’s in a bad mood.”
“I don’t like him much when he’s like that.”
Kay inclined her head, “How is he when he’s not like that?”
“I don’t know. Okay, I guess.”
Reaching across the table, Kay opened a little candy dish and grabbed a hard caramel candy. After popping it into her mouth, she grabbed a second and waited for Junior to look up. When he did, she tossed it to him. He clutched it as if it were prized but didn’t eat it, just slipped it into his pocket.
“Don’t you want to go ahead and eat it?”
“Brian likes these.”
“Ah.” She opened the dish again and grabbed another candy, throwing it gently into his palm. He tucked it away also, and she figured he was going to wait to enjoy it with his baby brother. “So, when did you decide to come out of your room during the argument?”
He shrugged and then swallowed. His expression was tight and restrained. She wondered at how a child that young could come to know how to hide his emotions so well. “I heard a bang. Or a thud, I guess. I told Brian to stay there, and I went to check on Mom. Dad was screaming at her, and she was on the bed trying to get away from him.”
“He wasn’t screaming until that time?”
“I don’t know. I tune out his screaming.”
It was hard for Kay not to cross the desk and wrap him up in her arms. He was entirely too young to have to face such hard truths about life. “Oh, I see. So what happened next?”
“I don’t know. He was really mad at her. Said she wasn’t going to run off when he needed her. Mom was crying and trying to crawl away, but when she turned away from him he threw the suitcase at her. It pushed the air out of her lungs. I heard it. It was like a whooshing sound.”
Kay scribbled notes, being careful to take down the manner of wording Junior used. His story was pretty much the same as his mom’s, but she had read that there were clues that could be learned from the way a child gave a statement. Whether that was true or not, she didn’t know, but she planned to give Van all the ammunition she could.
A few hours later, Kay was organizing the new file for Mrs. Faucett when Van stepped into her office. “I hear we have a new client.”
“We?” Kay grinned, tossing her pen onto her desk and rubbing the bridge of her nose. “I’m not a lawyer yet.”
Van tipped his head up and down. “True, but you’re scheduled to take the bar in February. This is a family law matter, and from what I know about the sizeable estate these people own, I imagine it could last well into next year. So maybe by the time we get to trial you’ll be a lawyer.”
Kay laughed, reaching one hand across her body to rub her shoulder. “And I’m sure the Audrick Van Buren will just allow me to litigate in his stead.”
One of his black eyebrows shot up and she could see the hint of a smirk in his eyes. “Or not, but at least you can be second chair. Until then, you’ll be the point man on it.”
“How can I argue with that?” Kay sat forward and grabbed the file, “I think I’ve got a solid affidavit here. Tamara prepared the petitions, and I had her make a few corrections. If everything looks good to you, she can file it tomorrow.”
He reached for the file, his fingers coming dangerously close to touching hers. She eyed him, admiring him not for the first time since coming to work here. It was true that she hadn’t really taken notice of him as a man until she got this job. She’d taken two semesters with him in law school, but somehow the moniker of “teacher” kept any other thoughts about him at bay.
His tie was undone but still hanging through his collar and loosely falling on either side. He had a few buttons undone so that she could see his Adam’s apple and the top of his chest. She found herself wishing the shirt were open more so that she could satisfy her curiosity about what was underneath. Her fingers itched to discover if there might be a sprinkling of hair across his chest.
Her wandering thoughts were disturbed when he stood abruptly and started for the door. “Have a good evening, Kay,”
She didn’t trust herself to speak, so just nodded as she watched him go.
By the time Kay got home after the Faucett hearings a few days later, she was more than exhausted. Her feet were aching, and she figured she had about an hour to rest before she had to get ready for the office Christmas party. The last thing she needed was to find someone sitting on the floor waiting at her door. Still she smiled and shook her head.
“Hey, Thomas. What’s up?”
He raised one side of his lip in a grin and pressed a palm to the wall to heave himself to his feet. With a flick of his head, he popped his long hair out of his eyes as he stepped out of the way to let her open her apartment door. “Wait until you hear what I’ve got,” he began, entirely expecting to be invited inside.
“And what is so important you had to camp out on my steps waiting for me?”
He sauntered into her apartment and plopped down onto her love seat. This was so normal for him that she barely even blinking an eye at his audacity. “I got tickets to that Christmas orchestra you were talking about.”
As Kay kicked off her shoes and lay back on the couch across from him, her mind perked up as she thought about the show she’d tried but failed to get tickets to. Then a sinking feeling replaced her excitement. “But the last show is tonight.”
“Yeah, I know,” Thomas crowed, reaching into his back pocket and whipping out two tickets. “That’s why I’ve been camped at your doorstep. You weren’t answering your phone.”
She remembered her phone was still on silent after court, and with a heavy sigh she reached for it and switched it over to ring. There was a notification on top of some emails and Facebook communications, but she ignored those for now. “I can’t go tonight, Thomas. The office Christmas party is tonight.”
Her friend’s face fell, and a twinge of guilt tickled in her chest. She sat up and leaned over to slap affectionately at his arm. “I’m sorry, Thomas. But I gotta go to this shindig. You know how these parties are. It’s as much about rubbing elbows as celebrating. I want to get a permanent job here.”
“Yeah, I get it,” he nodded, stretching his mouth out into a forced smile. “It’s no problem. I’ll just give these to Dana. So what time is this shindig? It won’t take me long to get ready. Black tie?”
“Oh, Thomas,” she groaned, rubbing the heels of her hands into her eyes. “You can’t come.”
“You have a date?”
“Pfft,” she hissed derisively. “With who?”
Thomas stood up from the couch and began texting on his iPhone. “How would I know? So why can’t I come with you to this party? You know I can behave.”
She wasn’t entirely sure of that, actually. Thomas didn’t mix well with liquor, and with an open bar, he’d be sure to drink and heavily. Still, that wasn’t why she couldn’t take him to the firm party. “My boss has an extreme dislike for you. Taking you to this party would not improve my chances of getting hired by this firm.”
“Aw, Kay. C’mon. It’ll look better for you to have a date. Going solo makes them think you can’t commit.”
Her blonde head dropped to t
he side and she gave him a hard glare.
Thomas chuckled nervously and shoved his phone into his back pocket. “All right, all right. I gotta get rid of these tickets while I still can. I’ll talk to you later.”
He let himself out of the apartment, and she listened to his clodhopping feet as he made his way down the hall and to his own place. When she heard his door open and close, she breathed a sigh of relief and then let her head thump back onto the sofa for a quick nap.
~oOo~
“He chews with his mouth open,” Tamara noted, taking a sip of her wine and then waggling one eyebrow at Kay. She paused to swallow, then giggled. “I’m not kidding. He does.”
“I believe you. But that still begs the question. Why the hell would I care?”
The brunette shrugged. “You should care because Kyle’s going to ask you out. He’s been working up the nerve for two weeks now.”
“Oh, hell.” Kay rolled her neck and poured back the last of her bourbon. “Why me?”
Tamara snorted and snagged a carrot from Kay’s plate. “Hey, you’re new blood, and you’re smokin’ hot blood.”
Kay gazed down at her attire, a snug pair of silver slacks that fell just at her ankles, topped with a blue sweater. The shoes were what set off the ensemble. A silver, studded pair of Christian Louboutin heels. Still, she shrugged when her eyes returned to Tamara. “I’ve been here almost six months. That’s not new. Katie’s new blood.”
Said newbie walked past them, sporting about a size ten green dress on her bone-thin size three body. She waved at Kay and Tamara before approaching the bar for a drink.
“Yeah, but Kyle might break her if he went out with her.”
Kay opened her mouth to scold her friend for being so catty but stopped cold when she heard her name called. A glance at her glass confirmed that it was empty, and she wished with all her might that it would be magically refilled to the top with bourbon. Despite her mental pleading, it remained empty.
Justice for All Page 2
