by John Foxjohn
“Mr. Proctor,” the judge let out an audible breath. “I have examined Ms. Nugent’s qualifications and in my opinion, she is more than qualified. Denied. Now, is there anything else?”
Proctor said through clenched teeth, “No, Your Honor.”
The judge turned to Kayla. “I assume you have some paperwork for me?”
Kayla stood and extracted a document from her briefcase. She strode forward and handed it to the judge. “We’d like to petition the court for a motion of discovery.”
He took the documents and turned to the DA. “Mr. Proctor?”
Proctor didn’t bother to stand. “We’ll get that to the defense as soon as possible.”
Ballard frowned. He didn’t like Proctor at all and no one could miss it. Kayla wished Ballard had the next docket call.
“Please define ‘as soon as possible’ to this court. You knew she’d ask for it here. Do you have it ready?” Ballard asked.
“Your Honor, we can get it to her in the next couple of weeks.”
“No. No. No, Mr. Proctor. That isn’t good enough. You should have had this when you filed charges. I’ll expect it either faxed or sent to her office in the morning.”
Kayla watched the interaction between Ballard and Proctor. Her mind clicked on something that Marvin had showed her. She decided to gamble on something that might blow up in her face.
“Now, that is settled,” Judge Ballard said, “I’m sure the defense will want as fast a trial as possible.” He opened the docket book, his finger sliding down the page. “Next on the docket is Judge Harper in a month and a half.” He turned to Kayla. “Is this time frame conducive to you putting on a good defense?”
Kayla rose. “Your Honor, we think the defense needs more time than that.”
Kayla turned her head as Proctor snorted a cross between disgust and a laugh.
“How much time would you need?”
“A week or two more should be sufficient, sir.”
The hard lines of Ballard’s compressed mouth broke into a smile, but disappeared. He turned to Proctor. “Does the state have a problem with this request?”
Proctor, huddled with his assistant and not paying attention, straightened. “Not at all Your Honor. She’ll need all the help she can get.”
“Maybe not as much as you think, Mr. Proctor. I’m setting the case for two months from now. The date for voir dire will be August 2nd.” This time the judge allowed himself a full smile so Proctor could see it. “The trial will take place in Judge Ballard’s court.”
Proctor almost fainted and did wilt into his chair. “You will preside over the trial, Your Honor?”
“That’s right, Mr. Proctor. It takes place in my court.”
As Kayla gathered her papers and placed them in her briefcase, Proctor stormed out. She turned to Loren. “Meet me in my office at ten in the morning.”
Loren, as she had during the entire process, remained quiet and sashayed out. Kayla glanced up, surprised that Judge Ballard remained, leaning back in his chair. “My old man always said, you want to win a fight, get in the first punch and make it a good one,” the judge said.
Kayla paused from putting her papers away. “Yes, sir. My father said the same thing.”
“Good man, your father. Outstanding attorney. I have only seen one in my lifetime that I thought was better.”
“Who was better than my father, sir?”
“Young lady, I’m sure you know this but you have a fight on your hands. Are you sure that client of yours is worth it?”
“No, sir, I am not. However, I do know this—she is entitled to the best defense I can give her.”
He rose and placed his hands on the bench top. “You’re right about that, anyway. You asked me a question a minute ago and I didn’t answer. When you get home, look in the mirror and you will find the answer.”
As he left, Kayla’s mouth fell open and she collapsed into the chair. If the old guy thought she was better than her father, he’d gone daft.
Outside the courtroom, she found Proctor waiting with his assistant, Sherri Mantis. “Nice chat with the judge, did you?”
She pursed her lips and nodded. “Pretty good one.”
He thrust a thick binder at her. “Here is your discovery. Read it and weep.”
“I thought you didn’t have it ready. Isn’t that what you said?”
“It so happens I had my assistants make copies.”
The lying bastard. No way they had time to make copies. “Thank you for getting it to me this quickly.”
He pointed at her. “I’m going to beat the pants off you.”
“That’s damn sure the only way you’ll get my pants off.”
His eyes narrowed. “It would be the luckiest day of your life.”
How could one person get so arrogant? She gave him her most dazzling smile. “All the girls talk about you, you know.”
“I know. What do they say?”
“An inch more and you’d be a king.” His smile grew wider.
“An inch less and you’d be a queen.” His smile disappeared and he sputtered as Kayla sauntered away.
THIRTEEN
When Darren’s cell phone rang, he glanced at the number and groaned. He didn’t think he was ready for Kayla, yet, but answered anyway. Sooner or later, he’d have to face her.
“I need to meet with you in my office sometime this evening,” she said. “I hope this doesn’t cramp your love life.”
He didn’t like her tone, and his ten-year-old son had a better love life than he did, but she had no business butting in if he did. He glanced at his watch and frowned. “It’s eight-thirty now. Are you going to be at your office later?”
“Yes, I’ll be here.” The phone clicked in his ear.
He flipped the phone closed and shoved it into his pocket. “Okay. There went that working relationship.”
He drove to his hotel and changed clothes, but before he left, Kevin called.
“Dad, when are you coming home?”
Not only the question, but also the way his son phrased it, caused his chest to tighten. “Is something wrong? Tell me. Maybe I can help.”
“I just need to talk to you about things.”
Darren collapsed on the bed’s edge. Kevin didn’t sound his usual self—like something other than not seeing his father troubled him. “Actually, you can talk to me now, Bub. I can tell by your voice something is wrong.”
Darren tried to change the subject, get him talking about things in his life that might trigger what bothered him, but that didn’t work, either.
“Kevin, please tell me what’s bothering you. I can’t help you if you don’t.”
“You—ah—can’t help, Dad.”
The boy’s words ripped into Darren’s chest. He squeezed his eyes closed. His son wanted to tell him, wanted to confide, if he didn’t he wouldn’t’ve called. For some reason, he couldn’t.
Darren could blame the boy’s mother for many things, but this problem had to fall on his shoulders. It was his responsibility to have a close relationship with his son. He wanted to have a rapport with Kevin—one that would allow the boy the freedom to feel he could talk to his father.
“Uh-huh, bub, when I get back to Chicago, I promise you this, I’ll find ways to spend time with you. You and I are going to talk.”
Darren’s eyes stung when Kevin’s voice cracked. “I hope so.”
“No hope to it. We’ll do it, and no one will stop us.”
A long silence ensued before Kevin asked, “Will Mom try?”
Yeah, she’d try. No doubt about that, but it was time he stood up like a man and put a stop to this mess. “We’ll work this out some way. You have my word on that.”
After Darren hung up with Kevin, he strode out the front door, stopped, and shook his head. The driver and the black limo waited. It shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did. With his schedule, he’d forgotten about the second job that he wanted no part of.
This time the driver didn’
t bother to speak, left his post at the front, and opened the back door.
When Darren settled himself in the seat across from the man, he could see less of him than he had before. He could imagine the face structure, and again wondered just who the hell he was.
Moments passed in silence as the man inspected him. Darren decided to wait him out. It didn’t take long.
“I hired you to do a job. I paid you well, but you aren’t doing it.”
Darren crossed his arms, lips thinned. “Actually, I did exactly what you indicated you wanted.”
“Perhaps I wasn’t clear enough, or you aren’t smart enough to understand what I want. Is that the case?”
Darren’s jaw clamped shut and his eyes narrowed. He sucked in several breaths. He’d have loved to reach out and strangle the life out of the old man. He clenched his fists. “Uh-huh, unless you changed your mind, I know what you want me to do. I’ll do it to the best of my ability. I told you before I was not the best person for the job.”
“So you did. Are you telling me you will continue to fail?”
Darren’s pulse throbbed in his ears. Moments passed before he answered. “Actually, I’m telling you that what you want will be difficult for anyone. You won’t find anyone that does not have the same problems I do with this assignment. You already know that, though.”
The old man leaned toward Darren and pointed a shaking finger in his face. “Let me tell you something, Mr. Smartass. If you fail, trust me, the money will be the least of your problems.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Oh, no.” Ice on his words sent a shiver racing up Darren’s backbone. “You fail in this, you’re dead. That isn’t a threat.”
As Darren drove to Kayla Nugent’s office, the man’s words reverberated in his head. Many times in his life, men had threatened him—first as a Chicago police officer and later as a private investigator. Most he blew off as a bag of wind. Seldom had he encountered anyone that he believed meant it. That old man jumped to the head of the list.
He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. Who the hell was he and what stakes did he have in this game?
Darren met Marvin, Kayla’s assistant, coming out of her office. They nodded to each other. Jimmy reclined in a chair by Kayla and the two of them looked at something on the desk.
He rapped on the open door. Kayla glanced up and her expression hardened. “Have a seat. This won’t take long.”
Darren flopped in the chair away from Jimmy as the two of them talked about a contract or something. Kayla’s cell phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and answered it, “Hello John.”
She frowned and told Darren and Jimmy to excuse her a moment. When she left, the two men remained silent for a time, until Jimmy said, “So you are a lover boy detective.”
Darren thought about slapping the pimples off the ferret’s face, but that wouldn’t help. The fact he knew about it to start with, told him something about his and Kayla’s relationship. He wondered how long they’d known each other—his guess, quite awhile. “Jimmy, what’s the bad history between Kayla and Loren?”
Jimmy’s mouth puckered and he tilted his head. “You mean you don’t know?”
“Actually, no, they haven’t told me and I might need to know.”
When Jimmy told him, he couldn’t speak. No wonder Kayla had acted the way she did. Now, all the jabs about timing made sense. She was right, too. If she’d happened by fifteen minutes later, she’d have walked right in on them the way she had her husband and Loren. He blinked several times. “Kayla’s married?”
“Of course not, stupid. She filed for divorce the next day. Took her maiden name back. She don’t need to worry about that asshole, either. He killed himself a month later.”
Jimmy’s eyes narrowed and he leaned closer. “Everyone Loren Estes comes close to pays in the end. You will, too.”
* * * *
“Kayla, I know you have company, but I need to talk to you out of your company’s hearing. I know you can’t answer. But I’m in the conference room on the first floor.”
She hated leaving Jimmy alone with Darren. Her friend had a bad temper at times and didn’t always use his brains. It wouldn’t be the first time he tried to jump on someone. He usually jumped off as soon as he jumped on. He couldn’t whip a fly, and Darren would hurt him.
She rushed out, telling them she’d be right back. She found John sitting on the edge of the conference table. Not for the first time, she wondered why men sat on the edge of tables.
“I hate to bother you, but something unusual happened. We’ve tailed your boy all day. I want to tell you—he is a busy one, too.” He hesitated and brought out a notebook. “Nothing significant until an hour ago. We parked in front of his hotel where he parked. While we waited, a large black stretch pulled in front of the hotel. This isn’t unusual, but no one got out, except the driver and he stood by as if waiting on someone. The longer it waited, the more curious we became. About that time, Duval came out. The driver opened the door and Duval got in.”
Kayla slumped in a seat, picked up a pen and twirled it. “It could be Estes.”
John nodded. “Thought about that.”
“You don’t think so, do you?”
“No, I don’t. For a couple of reasons. Duval drove from Estes’ office straight to the hotel. He met with Estes for over an hour. Also, Estes owns two stretches, one personal and the other for business, but both are white.”
She put the pen down, rose, and paced a moment. “Who did Darren meet with?”
“We don’t know who, but we’re trying to find out.”
She paced to the window, looking into the darkness, hands clasped behind her back. All she needed was someone else joining their little game. What had she gotten herself into? She didn’t know why, but this information seemed important—something she’d need to know. She turned to face John. “Is there anything else?”
“Kayla.” He stopped a moment. “When Duval got out of the stretch, I had the glasses on him. The man was scared.”
Scared. He didn’t seem the type. She rubbed her face for a moment. “John, I need to know who Darren talked to in that limo.”
“So do I. I’ll find out as soon as I can.”
When he left, Kayla sagged into a chair. Too many things going on that she didn’t know about. She had half a mind to march back to McMasters’ office in the morning and tell him where he could stick this case, her job, and anything else she could think of. She sighed. No way would she do that.
She stifled a yawn and massaged the bridge of her nose. Might as well get back in there.
She trudged back to her office and found Jimmy alive and Darren reclined, legs outstretched and ankles crossed, with a bored expression. She almost smiled. She’d known Jimmy all her life. She had only one good friend who she trusted, and that was Jimmy. She loved him like the brother she never had, but at times, her friend could bore people out of their minds.
She collapsed in her chair and ignored Darren. “Jimmy, does that take care of it?”
“It does, and I appreciate it.” He rose, “Kayla,” he shot a glance at Darren, “If you need me, I’ll come running.”
She smiled and stood, stepped to hug him, but stopped, extending her hands. “I know you will. You’re the best friend I ever had. You mean so much to me.”
She turned her head as a tear trickled down his cheek. He picked up his contract, glared at Darren, and sauntered out.
Kayla swiped at her eyes before picking up the phone and asking Marvin to come into her office.
When Marvin sat, Darren straightened, opened his case, and slid some papers across the desk to Kayla. She picked them up, read them, and then glanced up. “How’d you get these?”
He sat back. “Don’t ask.”
She passed the papers to Marvin, who read them and let out a low whistle. “I wonder if Proctor knows about her.”
Kayla twirled her pen and replied without stopping, “My guess is he doesn’t. She turne
d to Darren. “Have you found out the best place to contact her?”
“Not yet. I spent the day working and getting this information. I’ll get on her tomorrow.”
Kayla bent and opened her top drawer and pulled out two sheets of paper. She slid them across the desk to Darren. “This is a list of people who are going to testify for the prosecution. We need everything on them humanly possible.”
He bent forward to get the list and she reached across to point at the first name on the list, bringing her close to him. His aftershave, a hint of fragrance, exploded in her senses, causing sensations in her she didn’t want to think about. When he turned the paper so she could see it, their hands brushed.
She jerked back, heat reaching her face. She scrambled for words as he frowned and raised his eyebrows. No one spoke for moments while she collected her faculties. He should not have this kind of effect on her. She took a deep breath and leaned all the way back in her seat in an attempt to get as far away from him as she could.
“The first on the list is a woman by the name of Gladys Carmichael. She may be the key to this entire trial.”
“Who is she?” Darren asked.
Marvin entered into the conversation for the first time. “She is the next door neighbor to Michelle McCrery. She told police that when she heard the shot, she ran to her front window and saw a woman leave out the front door of McCreary’s residence.”
Darren’s mouth puckered and he steepled his fingers in front of his chest, “Let me guess. She identified Loren Estes as the woman she saw.”
Kayla, looking over the police inventory report, glanced up. “Yes, she did. Picked her out of a picture line up. No hesitation, anything.”
Darren made some notes in his spiral notebook. “Uh-huh, is that all for now?”
“It is, but please keep in contact with Marvin or myself. This goes to trial in two months and we have a lot to do in the meantime.”
When Darren left, she continued examining the police inventory report. Something bothered her about it, then it clicked. She jerked her head up. “Do you have those crime scene pictures?”
Marvin extracted them from his briefcase and she thumbed through the pictures. She didn’t answer when he asked her if something was wrong. She found the ones she looked for and examined them for several long moments. She handed him four of the pictures. “What do you see in these pictures?”
