Life Support

by Robert Whitlow

  Mrs. Hobart opened her eyes in surprise, and Alexia braced herself for a negative comment on women in the law.

  “That’s fine as long as you’re careful.”

  It was Alexia’s turn to look puzzled.

  “Yes, I’ll be careful.”

  Mrs. Hobart got out of the car and walked slowly to her front door.

  As they drove away, Alexia glanced at Ted, “Why did she tell me to be careful? Did she hear me when I told her I was a lawyer?”

  Ted shrugged. “I don’t know. I usually go with the flow of whatever she says. It’s more fun that way, and she seems to enjoy it, but sometimes it doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

  While they drove back to the church, Ted glanced sideways at Alexia. Now that they were alone, he was acutely aware of her femininity. Mrs. Hobart was right about the young lawyer—she had a sweet face and happy eyes. And now she had a glow about her countenance that Ted attributed to her recent encounter with the Lord.

  The combined effect was an attraction that touched him at an even deeper level than the interest sparked by her previous appreciation for music. He struggled with how to respond. He wanted to take a step toward her but didn’t want to tread heavily on the new spiritual growth springing up inside her. The minister and the man were in conflict as they turned onto McBee Road and approached the church. When they reached the old parsonage, Alexia stopped the car, and Ted started to get out in a condition of stalemate.

  “Could I stay a minute?” Alexia asked. “I’d like to go to the backyard.”

  “Uh, okay.”

  An afternoon breeze eased in from the ocean that made it cooler than when the church service had ended at noon. They walked around the corner of the house. It was as quiet as only a Sunday afternoon can be. Alexia went to the place where she’d stepped into the light. Ted held back, not sure what she wanted to do. She looked at him over her shoulder.

  “No, please come here,” she said. “I want you with me.”

  Ted joined her as she gazed across the yard. Neither spoke. Alexia reached across and took his hand. It was a simple gesture, but Ted swallowed at the intensity of what he felt. They continued looking forward, but Ted saw nothing. Every sense in his being was focused on his contact with Alexia. He wanted to soak in the moment so completely that it would remain as a memory with power. Then she turned toward him, took his other hand, and looked up into his face.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Ted looked puzzled. “For what?”

  Alexia smiled slightly. “For more than you can imagine.”

  She raised each of his hands in turn and lightly kissed them.

  35

  Someone had better be prepared for rage.

  ROBERT FROST

  On Wednesday morning, Alexia was sitting at her desk when Byron Devereaux phoned and told her Rena’s car was ready to be released.

  “Has anything else developed on the case?” Alexia asked.

  “We have several leads but nothing definite. Most investigations like this break quickly, but it hasn’t happened in this one.”

  “I saw the clip on the news the other night about the officer’s funeral.”

  “Yeah. We received more calls after the show, and I’m sifting through them.”

  “What about the fingerprints?”

  “Of course, your client’s prints are everywhere. The hospital in Greenville sent prints from Mr. Richardson by overnight courier. They matched several spots in the car, and there are other unidentified prints on the passenger door handle. They were fairly clear, so we lifted them and sent them to the FBI lab in Washington. We don’t think the car holds any more clues.”

  “Is there anything else Mrs. Richardson can do to help?”

  “Just keep her eyes open for anything suspicious around her house and let us know if she remembers anything else. We’ve requested help from the Santee police since the murderer may be from that area. Most professional car thieves don’t prowl small towns looking for vehicles. They stick to metropolitan areas. I think this was a joyride that went bad and doubt that the person who did it lives in Charleston.”

  Alexia called Rena with the news and gave her the address where the car was being stored.

  “Do they have any suspects?” Rena asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “I don’t want the car back,” Rena said. “The thought of driving it after what happened makes me sick to my stomach. I’d rather trade it in on something else.”

  “What do you want to do about picking it up?”

  There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. “Could you get it? I don’t want to have anything to do with it.”

  Alexia jerked back her head. “That’s not my job. Call a wrecker and tell them to tow it to a dealer who can sell it.”

  Rena continued whining. “Would you set it up with the police? I don’t like talking to them.”

  Alexia sighed. “Okay. Where do you want the car towed?”

  Rena named a car dealership south of Santee as the destination.

  “I’ll notify Detective Devereaux and let him know,” Alexia said. “Is Jeffrey going to attend the hearing on Friday?”

  “No, I talked to him after the theft of the car and brought it up again. He’d promised to help, but he backed out on me.”

  “Does that mean he’s not going to give us any other information about your father-in-law?”

  It was a slip, and as soon as she spoke, Alexia wanted to reel the words back into her mouth. Rena hadn’t specifically identified Jeffrey as her friendly mole.

  “I hope not,” Rena responded without indicating she’d realized the implication of Alexia’s question.

  Alexia quickly continued. “Do you think it would help if I contacted him? I’ve never met him, but I could explain the process and try to persuade him.”

  “Who knows? He only cares about himself. Don’t bother.”

  “Whether he testifies is not that important,” Alexia said. “The doctors will be the key witnesses. Dr. Draughton has confirmed that he will be there, and I sent a subpoena to make sure Ken Pinchot, the lawyer from my old firm who will be representing your father-in-law, has subpoenaed Dr. Berman and Dr. Kolb. I’ve tried to reach them by phone but haven’t gotten through. It would be good to have an idea about their testimony before we go to court, so I’m going to Greenville on Thursday morning and try to interview them. They might even try to avoid coming to the hearing.”

  “I thought they would have to come if they are subpoenaed.”

  “Yes, but neurosurgeons can come up with great excuses such as they can’t leave a patient on the operating table to run down to the courthouse and talk to a judge. I won’t be surprised if their lawyer files a motion to quash the subpoena.”

  “It would be good for us if they didn’t come, wouldn’t it?” Rena asked.

  “Yes. If Dr. Draughton is the only doctor who shows up, it could be a quick hearing.”

  “How soon would they turn off Baxter’s life support?”

  “I will have a proposed order with me at the hearing. It’s nothing fancy, but it contains the proper legal language with the date left blank for the judge to fill in. If we win, I’ll ask the judge to make it effective immediately.”

  “It’s hard to believe something is finally going to be done,” Rena said. “I thought this nightmare would never end.”

  “There’s no guarantee—”

  “I know, I know,” Rena interrupted. “But it’s a step in the right direction.”

  “Have you called the hospital to check on Baxter?” Alexia asked.

  “I contact the nurses’ station every day, and they always say the same thing. He’s in critical condition but stable.”

  “Okay. Can we meet at the hospital at three o’clock on Thursday afternoon? It might help me reach the doctors if you are with me.”

  “I’ll be there. What should I do if Ezra shows up before you do?”

  “Leave until I arrive. Go to the ro
om where we met with the doctors and wait for me there.”

  Alexia hadn’t called Ken Pinchot to talk about the case. She’d received a faxed copy of the response he filed with the court in Greenville. It was a brief denial of the relief sought by Rena with a conclusion that the medical evidence did not support a finding that Baxter’s condition was sufficiently serious to warrant termination of life-sustaining measures.

  Later, she received a phone call that the bank had approved her loan to purchase the house on King Street. She walked down the hall and shared the good news with Rachel Downey, who promised to arrange the closing as soon as possible. The sellers weren’t planning on coming to Santee.

  “They’re going to give power of attorney,” Rachel said. “I think they’re naming a relative who lives in the area so she can sign the deed on their behalf and receive the settlement proceeds.”

  Alexia held up her hand. “Please, I don’t want to hear the words ‘power of attorney.’ I’m in the midst of a case that raises every issue you can imagine about them.”

  Rachel patted her on the shoulder. “This one will be routine. I promise.”

  Alexia spent the rest of the day preparing to be out of town for the remainder of the week. With no backup, she had to give her cell phone number to an increasingly larger circle of people. She put everything she’d accumulated regarding the Richardson situation in a large briefcase. The hearing was going to be more of a trial by ambush than usual, and she didn’t want to be caught without a stray bit of information at her fingertips. She missed Gwen’s practical help and camaraderie. Taking a break, she called Leggitt & Freeman. There was a new receptionist who didn’t know Alexia and asked her name before transferring her to Gwen’s desk.

  “Who’s the new voice on the telephone?” Alexia asked.

  “Don’t know her history,” Gwen replied. “She hasn’t stopped by my desk to share her life story. What’s up?”

  “I’m missing you,” Alexia responded. “You always helped me through the day.”

  Gwen’s voice softened. “You’re a sweetie, Alexia. Once you get your new office situated, we’ll start having fun again.”

  “The loan has been approved, so everything will move forward quickly.”

  “Is your preacher friend going to do the work?”

  “I hope so. We haven’t signed a contract, but he inspected the house for me and told me he was interested in helping me.”

  “Are you going to do a prenuptial agreement with him at the same time? It would be the efficient way to go.”

  Alexia laughed. “No, but I went to church on Sunday.”

  “I figured that when you didn’t call me. I put my red dress and white shoes back in the closet and stayed home. I don’t want to distract him if he’s interested in you.”

  “A lot has been happening.”

  Gwen’s voice turned serious. “Tell me.”

  “Can you talk? I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got Leonard shipshape, and Bennie, the new lawyer, doesn’t seem to be doing very much.”

  “Okay, but it’s not just about Ted Morgan.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Alexia told Gwen about the night at Ted’s house. At first, Gwen interrupted with questions, but she grew quiet when Alexia described what she felt when Ted mentioned her grandmother. A hint of a tear returned to Alexia’s right eye, and her voice cracked.

  “Then we went to the church, and Ted played the piano for me. The lights were off in the sanctuary, and he played something he made up on the spot. It was his way of describing what had happened to me through music. It was beautiful.”

  “Wow, if I didn’t know you were a levelheaded woman, I’d say you were telling me a dream.”

  “I know. It was the most real, yet unreal, thing I’ve ever experienced.”

  “What about the minister? Is he part of the picture, too?”

  Alexia paused. “Yes. He has helped me in a very gentle way through what has happened, and we’ve spent a lot of time together. He’s a good man. I can trust him.”

  “That’s saying a lot.”

  “I know. After what happened with Jason, I needed to meet a decent person. But I don’t know that much about Ted. The focus has been on me, not him. He’s a mix of minister, pianist, and house painter, but I’m not sure how he fits together.”

  “This is so cool,” Gwen answered. “I’m not sure about the religious stuff, but if this guy is the way you describe him, he’s worth taking for a spin around the block.”

  “Yes, I think so, too.”

  Alexia was about to tell Gwen about her brief physical contact with Ted in the backyard on Sunday when the secretary said, “Gotta go. Here comes Leonard with a big stack of stuff.”

  The following day, Alexia left for Greenville in the early afternoon. She enjoyed trips because it gave her the opportunity to turn her car into a symphony hall on wheels. As she listened to the music, she decided that when she had a lot of money she would finance production of a compact disk for Ted Morgan. The minister’s talent shouldn’t languish in obscurity; he deserved a wider audience than the stained-glass windows at Sandy Flats Church. It was a pleasant fantasy that kept her mind occupied for much of the trip. As she approached Greenville, she turned off the music and returned to the immediate challenges of the upcoming hearing. She arrived a few minutes early at the hospital.

  She pushed the button to receive a ticket for the parking deck. Baxter’s condition might not have changed much since the last time she’d walked through the main entrance to the hospital. Her own life, however, had never taken several dramatic turns in such a short period of time.

  Rena wasn’t in the ICU. The only familiar face in the room belonged to Ezra Richardson. When he saw Alexia, the older man’s face clouded over, and she saw his right cheek twitch with tension. Instinctively, she backed away.

  “Ms. Lindale!” Ezra called out. “I have something to say to you.”

  Alexia stopped and met the fire that sprang to life in the older man’s eyes. She always faced anyone who attacked her. Dominant personalities weren’t used to people who didn’t cower before them, and her response either provoked the other person to embarrassing anger or caused them to disintegrate into a harmless bluster. Anger always produced mistakes; bluster revealed weaknesses.

  “Yes?” Alexia asked.

  Ezra approached, and she could see that the veins in his neck were distended. Several people in the ICU waiting area stopped their conversations and looked in their direction. Ezra glanced sideways and saw that he was being watched. He lowered his voice and almost spit the words out of his mouth.

  “I demand that you let me talk to Rena. I don’t know what you’ve told her, but the two of you are not going to kill my son.”

  “I’m not trying to kill anyone.”

  “Then what do you call it?” Ezra’s face was flushed a deep red.

  Alexia didn’t answer, and the older man took a step closer.

  “Answer me!”

  Alexia held her ground. “You’re represented by an attorney, Mr. Richardson. If your lawyer wants to set up a meeting, he can call me.”

  Ezra lowered his voice but maintained the same level of intensity. “I want to talk to Rena. You can be there, but this can’t wait.”

  “Where is Ken Pinchot?”

  “I don’t need him.”

  Alexia didn’t budge. “Without Mr. Pinchot’s permission, I will not talk to you about the petition or allow you to meet with Rena.”

  The color returned to Ezra’s cheeks. “If you don’t stop this, you and Rena will both regret it.”

  Mr. Richardson was close to the edge of legality. Alexia wished she had a tape recorder. Any form of overt threat would be a potent weapon for future use.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  Ezra glared at her. He opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. “That’s all I’m going to say.”

  He turned and walked out of
the ICU. Alexia’s heart was pounding. She waited a few seconds and then went to the door and looked down the hall in the direction of the elevators. Rena didn’t need to encounter Ezra in the hallway. He was gone, and Rena was nowhere in sight. Not satisfied, Alexia decided to retrace her steps to the parking deck in hope she could head off a random meeting between father-in-law and daughter-in-law. As she waited for the elevator, the door opened, and Rena stepped out. She was alone.

  “You didn’t see your father-in-law, did you?” Alexia asked quickly.

  Rena shook her head. “No. What happened?”

  Alexia related the brief encounter in the ICU.

  “Now you know what I’ve been up against in my marriage,” Rena said. “Baxter never crossed him. His father’s word was the law.”

  “It won’t be the law in court on Friday. Until then, don’t come to the hospital unless I’m going to be here, too. I don’t want him trying to intimidate you.”

  “What did he mean by his threats?” Rena asked.

  “I don’t know unless it has to do with your money. That’s the only thing he can try to control. Did you follow my instructions about the checking account?”

  Rena nodded. “Yes. The joint account has less than a hundred dollars in it.”

  “Then it may have to do with the businesses.”

  “Jeffrey promised—” Rena stopped.

  Alexia shrugged. “Go ahead. I knew your source had to be a family member, and Jeffrey is the most likely one with the kind of access you mentioned.”

  Rena looked over her shoulder. “I don’t guess it matters. I’m not even sure why he made me promise not to tell you. So far, he hasn’t done anything except give me the money to pay your fee. He claims his father is using the power of attorney against me but hasn’t shown me any proof. It’s been frustrating.”

  Alexia looked in Rena’s face. “What are you leaving out?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Alexia persisted. “Why is Jeffrey turning against his father?”

  “Because he’s like him. He wants to control everything.”

  “Does he know what really happened at the waterfall?”

  “No. I swear that you’re the only person on earth who knows the truth. Jeffrey wants to be in charge of the family businesses and offered to help me. That’s all.”