Saving Madeline

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  “Wyman Russell.”

  “Wyman, it’s Caitlin McLoughlin.”

  “Caitlin. Good to hear from you! Did your client decide to take the plea deal? It’s too late, you know.”

  “I’m not calling about that. Look, it’s about Mace.” She walked across the room to the window. It had taken her two years to earn this office, but usually she was so busy she forgot to look outside. Snow still clung to the ground in some spots, though most had melted. There was no one in the parking lot except a man in a suit who was talking on a cell phone.

  “Oh, and I was beginning to think you’d consider working with me.”

  Was he hinting again at her giving him privileged information? Since he hadn’t approached her privately again this week, she’d begun to hope they’d left that behind. Well, she wouldn’t take that crap. “Last I checked they don’t have openings in the DA’s office, so what do you mean by that? Just spit it out.”

  “Nothing nefarious, if that’s what you’re implying.” He sounded surprised at her vehemence. “I’m leaving to start my own practice. Well, with an uncle of mine. I would have told you at our dinner the other night, but I hadn’t turned in my resignation yet. I did that on Monday. I thought you might have heard.”

  “I hadn’t.” She struggled to wrap her mind around this new idea. Attorneys as bad as Wyman didn’t simply start their own practices—unless they weren’t really as bad as they seemed. Unless they’d been assigned all the difficult cases. She considered the implications. She’d prided herself on being a good attorney, but apparently she didn’t know as much as she thought. “Uh, congratulations,” she murmured, feeling completely stupid.

  “We’re looking for attorneys,” Wyman added. “I’d love to have you work for us. Or you could always apply to the DA’s office for my old job. I did mention Saturday night that there might be an opening soon. I just didn’t say it was mine.”

  “Oh.”

  “So what was it you wanted to ask about Mace?”

  Caitlin forced herself to regain her equilibrium. “I’ve looked at his cases, at least the ones he’s prosecuted and we’ve defended. They were all obvious wins.”

  Silence. “And?” Apparently Wyman wasn’t going to launch into an explanation as she’d hoped.

  “I want to know if the other cases he’s prosecuted, cases not with LDA, are the same.”

  Wyman chuckled without mirth. “Every single one. You can bet he didn’t horn in on the Belstead case because I was losing. It was because we found the evidence to put the guy away.”

  “I see.” She had assumed Mace was helping Wyman because he hadn’t wanted him to mess up the important case, but again she’d been wrong. Unless Wyman was lying, which at this point she wasn’t ruling out. “How can he get those assignments?”

  “Who knows? He’s got pull, or someone likes him. He’s ambitious. Maybe all of the above. But that’s all I’m going to say. I’m still here for two more weeks.”

  Caitlin nodded, though he couldn’t see her. She let her mind run over the facts, sifting and sorting. If Wyman was leaving and wasn’t trying to get her to betray her clients’ confidences, then who had sent the aide to see Kenny?

  “Wyman,” she asked, “did you send anyone to talk to Kenny Pratt about the Belstead case? He’s doing some work on a new case for me, and since he’d heard I was the LDA in the Belstead case, he mentioned someone had been to see him. He couldn’t make sense of it, and frankly neither can I.”

  “You know this Kenny Pratt is the one who lost the case for you, right? He was the investigator who encouraged the witness to come forward.”

  “Isn’t that what any good citizen would do?”

  “Maybe. The most important question, though, is why he was there in the first place. Do you know what case he was on or who he was working for?”

  Fear shot through her. “Are you on a witch hunt?”

  There was a long pause before Wyman said. “Caitlin, I didn’t send anyone to talk to Kenny, and I don’t know who did. And all this about a witness and Kenny Pratt are frankly none of my concern anymore. But I’m going to tell you one thing. Don’t waste your time with Mace. He isn’t worth it.”

  Caitlin didn’t respond, her brain still puzzling over which DA was behind the Kenny investigation. If Wyman wasn’t, who was? She had a sinking feeling that she just might know.

  “Thank you, Wyman,” she said slowly.

  “No problem. And I meant what I said about you joining me, Caitlin. I think you’re the best attorney the LDA has. And last Saturday night obviously showed we’d work well together.” There was something in his voice now that was familiar, but there was still his wife to think about—separated or not.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “You do that.”

  Caitlin hung up. Her thoughts were racing in all directions, but she had to get this brief finished before she grabbed something to eat and headed over to the court for the Belstead sentencing hearing.

  Her phone began ringing—her cell, not the office phone, and she dived for her purse to answer it. The number belonged to Kenny Pratt. “Hello?”

  “Hi,” he said without preamble. “I have news, but nothing I can prove yet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s that guy the ex-wife was supposed to be staying with at what your client thought was a meth house.”

  Caitlin checked her notes. “Ron Hill?”

  “Yeah. The reason the cops can’t find any record of this guy is probably because he doesn’t exist, but as I chatted up her friends, the name Ron Briggs came up. It’s possible he was the one Dakota was with.”

  “But that was what, four months ago?”

  “Three,” Kenny corrected, “and it’s important because if we can talk with him we might be able to prove he had a meth lab and that Dakota Allen knew about it and exposed her kids to it.”

  Caitlin paced to the window. “Even if she isn’t convicted, that would be enough for my case. Especially when I bring in statistics about how many children die in drug-related deaths caused directly or indirectly by their parents.”

  “Well, if the mother’s on drugs, that child is in more danger now than of being hit by a car, even if she was sitting in the middle of the road.”

  “We need to find this Ron . . .”

  “Briggs. I’m on it. But if you could talk to your detective buddy at the police department, she might be able to get the information faster. They might not have a file on him, but it’s worth checking. I’d call myself, but I’m rather busy at the moment.”

  “I’ll call her and let you know.”

  “Good. Meanwhile, I’ll follow up a few leads I have on Dakota’s current lifestyle. And I mean follow literally; she’s in her car in front of me now. If she’s doing drugs, she’ll mess up soon.”

  “Is Madeline with her?”

  “Yes, and the other child, too. Tiny thing.”

  “How do they seem?”

  “All right. She’s using a car seat for the younger one, not the girl, though. Must not know it’s a law.”

  “Maybe we could have her pulled over for that. It would be a strike in our favor.”

  “Let me know. I can tell the cops where she is at any moment.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. She’s stopping. Gotta go.” The phone went dead.

  Caitlin was just about to dial Sally when a knock at the door stopped her. Before she could call to whoever it was to come in, the door burst open and Sally entered. “Good, you’re here.”

  “I was just calling you.” Caitlin shut her phone and crossed back to her desk, slipping the phone inside her purse.

  Sally shrugged. “You were acting weird this morning. I don’t have time to grab lunch later, and I know you have a full afternoon at court, so I thought I’d stop by.”

  Caitlin didn’t hide her exasperation. “There’s nothing wrong! But Kenny did come up with something we need you to check out. We think we discov
ered the real name of the guy Dakota Allen used to live with at the meth house.” Caitlin leaned over and wrote on a card from her desk. “Any information you can give us would be nice, but it’d really help if we could talk to him. We could use his testimony about the danger Dakota put Madeline in. He might even know something about Dakota’s current drug use. Here’s his name—Ron Briggs. Not Hill.”

  “I’ll look into it.” Sally fingered the card, but her gaze never left Caitlin’s face. “So are you going to tell me what happened last night?”

  Caitlin sighed and sank into her chair. “We went back to my place for dinner after we found Amy. I knew he hadn’t eaten all day, and dinner seemed the least I could do. He’d been so nice about Amy. But then Amy fell asleep, and we were

  alone . . .”

  “And?” Sally but her hands on the desk, her brown eyes dark and eager.

  Caitlin knew her face was burning a bright red. “Well, one thing led to another, and we kissed.” She remembered the desire that had seemed to spring from nowhere.

  “How was it?”

  “Good,” Caitlin admitted. “It was totally wrong, but it was good.”

  “Then what?”

  “Nothing. Amy woke up. We ate dinner, and then I drove Parker to a motel.”

  Sally blinked in disgust. “That’s all? No plans for a date?”

  “He’s a client.” Caitlin stood, her energy too stoked to be confined to the chair. “Do you know how many clients want to go out with me?”

  “All of them, I bet.” Sally gave her a flat smile. “But he’s not your typical client, is he?”

  “No. Yes. He’s a client. That’s it.”

  Sally’s eyes narrowed. “Something else is going on here, Caitlin. What aren’t you telling me?”

  That when he looks at me I feel alive. That I want him to kiss me so badly I’m afraid once it’s over I won’t be able to let go. But she couldn’t say this to Sally or anyone. “I want a solid relationship, Sally. I don’t play the field with just anyone. That’s not who I am. You should know that by now.”

  “I’m only saying you won’t ever know what you might be missing if you don’t give it a chance. Who knows? Maybe he’ll be the best thing that ever happened to you.”

  Or the worst. Too often in her line of business Caitlin had seen it work out that way. In the beginning her clients thought something was the best opportunity they’d ever encountered, but it ended up ruining their lives.

  “I want what my parents had,” she said quietly. “What you and Tony have.”

  “You aren’t falling for this guy, are you?”

  “No. I’m just . . . Amy’s been talking a lot about babies lately. It reminded me that I’m not getting any younger.”

  “Ah, the biological clock. I hear you there. But that’s exactly why you should give Parker a chance before you settle down. Frankly, construction workers are some of the steadiest guys around.” She frowned. “And they’ve got muscles.”

  “Sally,” Caitlin groaned. Normally she didn’t mind having a friend who seemed to think large muscles were a necessary quality in a man, but today was an exception. “You aren’t hearing me. Besides, Parker isn’t my type.”

  “You must be holding out for that gorgeous DA. Now, that I can understand.”

  Caitlin took the path of least resistance. “He came by just a while ago.”

  “Lip action?”

  “Yep.”

  “Good?”

  “He certainly knows what he’s doing.”

  Sally nodded. “What he lacks in muscle he probably makes up for in technique. Still, you may find out that a pretty face doesn’t do it for you. It never did for me, though Tony is cute in his own way.”

  “Not only is Tony handsome but he’s the only man alive who could keep up with you.”

  Sally laughed. “True.” She lifted the card with Ron Briggs’s name. “I’ll get back to you on this, but don’t forget what I told you. If you change your mind about Hathaway, I say go for it. He’s cute.” She grinned knowingly at Caitlin before escaping from the room.

  Propping her elbows on her desk, Caitlin let her head drop into her hands. She suspected she hadn’t fooled Sally at all. And what if Sally was right? Maybe if she let herself go out with Parker a few times, she could get him out of her system and move on to something more permanent. Maybe.

  She groaned. Who was she fooling? What if she was the one who got caught and couldn’t walk away? Sally was right that her biological clock had kicked in when she’d least expected it, and what she wanted now was a real relationship. Her parents had been happily married to someone in the same profession, and if she ever was going to have a family, that’s what she wanted for herself—a meeting not just of minds but of lives. With all his problems, Parker obviously wasn’t the man for the job.

  Pushing these thoughts aside, she picked up the phone and dialed. “Jodi, I really need some help on this brief. I can’t seem to concentrate this morning.”

  “No wonder, what with the Belstead sentencing. I’m really sorry about that, Caitlin.”

  “It’s okay. He is guilty, after all.”

  “There is that. I bet you haven’t had lunch yet. Leave the brief and the file on your desk and go get yourself something to eat. I’ll take care of everything. You don’t want to faint at the courthouse.”

  “Not going to happen. But thanks for taking care of the brief.”

  “No problem.”

  Caitlin was feeling better already. Seeing Chet Belstead sentenced would be the highlight of her day, and if she had to do it over again, she’d probably go through the same hoops to get him there. Some cases were worth losing big.

  She’d barely arrived at the courthouse when she received a text message from Parker: I meet with Family Services at 6. Will u come?

  She wasn’t technically representing him in a custody case, but when it came to social services, having her there would be better than no representation. Since she had never given him the name of anyone else to use, it was natural for him to turn to her. In between her cases that afternoon, she’d have to call in some favors and learn some fast tips from her attorney acquaintances. She was willing to do that. For Madeline, of course.

  She typed out a brief response: yes.

  Chapter 15

  Chet Belstead was sentenced to forty-one years in prison for rape and attempted murder. He’d serve a good portion of that, even if he became a model prisoner, and maybe when he came out he’d be a changed man. Caitlin always hoped for the best. Some of her clients did learn, though she didn’t hold much hope for Belstead. If he ever came into the system again, she would refuse to represent him. Not that he’d want her since she had failed him this time. The whole case made her feel dirty, though the satisfaction on the faces of the victim’s family had been some recompense for her breach of ethics.

  When Sally called later that afternoon, Caitlin still had one client to represent before the judge, but there were three others ahead of them, so she had time to talk. She stepped out of the courtroom to answer.

  “Bad news,” Sally said. “Ron Briggs is dead. He was picked up three weeks ago and charged with producing meth. He managed to suicide while he was out on bail. On a drug overdose, of all things.”

  Caitlin groaned. “Just my luck.”

  “Well, we’re still checking his cohorts. We suspect one guy was a partner, and although the house is closed down now, we think he might be working elsewhere. These operations aren’t usually run by one person. I have some names, and I’ll forward them to your e-mail, if that’s okay. Maybe your PI can make some progress.”

  “That reminds me. Could I have Dakota pulled over for not using a car seat?”

  “Hey, that’s a good idea.”

  “I’m hoping I can use it when we talk to Family Services in a few hours. Parker wants to see Madeline.”

  “Of course he does.”

  “I’ll call Kenny and have him text you her location. Provided she’s in the c
ar.”

  “Okeydokey, I’ll do my best. But keep in mind I’m pulling favors for you on this one.”

  “Hey, you’re the one who brought me in on the case. You owe me.”

  “All right already. I’ll drum up some uniforms to chase down Dakota Allen. But someday you might thank me for getting you involved.”

  “What?”

  “I got a hunch.” Sally hung up before Caitlin could protest.

  Caitlin found a relatively quiet corner and accessed her

  e-mail with her phone, forwarding the names Sally had sent to Kenny’s cell phone. Then she called him to find out Dakota’s location.

  “She’s at home,” Kenny said in a bored tone. “Must be sleeping, ’cuz the house looks dead except for every now and then the little girl looks out the window. It’s freezing out here, so I wish something would happen. If I turn on the car too much, someone’s bound to notice. Wait, someone just drove up in the driveway. A man. Big guy. Looks like a football jock who’s gone to a bit of fat. Receding hairline, longish in back. Dopey look.”

  “Probably the new boyfriend.”

  “License plates don’t match the notes you gave me. Car screams money.”

  “Can’t be him, then. Supposedly, he drives a piece of junk.”

  “Maybe he’s come into some dough.”

  “That would explain why Dakota doesn’t need her ex all of a sudden. Well, let me know when she’s on the move. And did you get those names I just sent?”

  “I got ’em. Already forwarded them to a contact.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Caitlin, how much budget you got for this case anyway?”

  Caitlin hesitated. Her budget at the LDA for outside services was extremely limited. Management went over expenses with a careful eye, and they didn’t smile nicely on an attorney who went too far above and beyond in their defense of a client, especially an obviously guilty one. “Enough,” she said. “As long as we prove something.”

  “And if we don’t?”

  “I have savings.” She cringed as she said this, not wanting to hear Kenny’s response.

  He was quiet a moment. “It means that much to you?” His tone wasn’t condemning or deriding but rather curious.