Dead Lawyers Tell No Tales

by Randy Singer

  “Yeah,” Landon said. “You’d better go.”

  ///

  The photos were perfect. Landon and Rachel approaching the Hilton. Landon and Rachel at the bar. Landon and Rachel on the boardwalk. Rachel moving closer, her hand on his arm.

  He already had a photo of the kiss from the last time they were together.

  It wouldn’t take a genius at Photoshopping to put together the most damning photo of all. Rachel and Brent Benedict had been caught coming out of a hotel room. Now it would be Landon’s turn.

  49

  FOR KERRI, THE TIME NEVER SEEMED quite right. Landon spent most of Saturday at the office, and when he arrived home Saturday night, Maddie was sick. Sunday was church and family day, but Maddie, who had rebounded with a vengeance, was with them the entire time. Kerri really did want to talk with her husband about the job opening in D.C., but she couldn’t just blurt it out in the middle of the chaos that seemed to swirl around their lives. She had envisioned a long walk on the beach or dinner alone in a restaurant. None of that was going to happen.

  She had paid extra attention to Landon all day Sunday. A touch on the arm during church. A hug when they were changing from church clothes into shorts and T-shirts. A back rub after lunch. Landon interpreted the overtures as an invitation for romance, and Kerri finally got her opening to talk when it was nearly midnight, her exhausted husband lying beside her.

  She turned toward him and propped her head on an elbow. “Can we talk about something?”

  “Sure.”

  He still had the glow, and it was almost unfair, taking advantage like this. She went ahead anyway. “There’s something I’ve wanted to talk to you about for a couple of days, but the time just didn’t seem right.” Kerri watched as her husband’s face turned from that satisfied I-don’t-have-a-care-in-the-world look to one of concern.

  “It’s nothing bad,” she added quickly. “In fact, I’m pretty excited about it.”

  “What’s up?” he prompted, placing a hand on her side.

  She hesitated—How do I phrase this?—then decided to just jump right in. “There’s an opening for an investigative reporter at the NBC affiliate in D.C. The salary alone is half again what I’m making now. Sean Phoenix knows the station manager and has talked to him about me. He says I could probably get the job if I wanted it.”

  She watched the news register on his face. He chose his words carefully.

  “Would we have to move?”

  Kerri chuckled. “Last I checked, most stations like their investigative reporters to show up at the station every day. Of course we’d have to move.”

  Landon pulled back his hand. He frowned.

  His expression made her heart sink.

  “I don’t know, Kerri. I mean, D.C. is a great market. But I thought we were digging in here, making this our home. Can’t you just use this to negotiate a raise at WTRT?”

  “Not really. That’s not the way it works. And even if it did, Hampton Roads will always be a small-time market.”

  She twisted around so that she was lying on her stomach, her arms under her pillow, still propped up on her elbows. They were no longer face-to-face. The romance, which had been so perfect thirty minutes ago, had quickly left the bedroom.

  Landon must have sensed her frustration and put a hand on her back. He cheated, starting a back rub while making his case. “It’s a bad time to leave McNaughten and Clay,” he said, his voice soft. “I know it’s not the world’s greatest firm, but they gave me a chance when nobody else would. And now, with Harry’s death, I feel like it’s somehow my legacy to take care of his clients and build this criminal practice that he had. It’s not perfect—heck, it’s totally dysfunctional—but it seems like family. If I left now I’d feel like I was quitting again, turning my back on my team. I promised myself in prison that I would never do that again.”

  On some level, what he said made sense, and the back rub was definitely hitting the spot. She turned again toward him, ending the contact and evening the tables.

  “I’m tired of hearing about Harry. I know he was a great lawyer and all that, but this isn’t about Harry. That firm doesn’t own you, Landon. You’ve given them everything they could ask for.”

  Like many of their disagreements, the words being left unsaid were more important than the ones they were saying. Whose career was more important? Could Landon handle it if Kerri became the primary breadwinner? And did Kerri really want that? In some ways, she was hoping Landon would say no. The demands of her current job were enough to cause a never-ending stream of guilt in her life. If she took the D.C. job and Cipher Inc. became a constant source of high-profile stories, she’d have to spend even more time away from Maddie.

  Maybe it would be best if they just stayed here.

  But it bothered her that Landon couldn’t see how illogical he was being. He was putting his job at a small-time firm—the kind of firm that was on every street corner—above a career opportunity that very few journalists ever even sniffed.

  “I just thought you’d be more excited for me,” Kerri said. “I’m not saying I think we should make the move. But I thought you’d at least be proud.”

  Landon edged closer and put his arm around Kerri’s shoulder. “I am proud,” he said. He leaned toward her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “And we’ll figure this out later. Tonight, we ought to just celebrate the fact that somebody’s finally recognized true talent when they see it.”

  “We already celebrated,” Kerri said.

  “But that didn’t count. We didn’t know why.”

  Kerri snuggled into her pillow. “Let’s just talk about it tomorrow,” she suggested.

  ///

  Landon lay awake for an hour trying to navigate this new challenge. On the one hand, he felt selfish for raining on Kerri’s parade. A good husband would have suggested she call the station the next day. A good husband would have been excited for his wife.

  On the other hand, Landon felt manipulated by the way Kerri had played this out. She had waited forty-eight hours until she thought the moment was just right to spring it on him. And as much as she had supported him the last several years, she didn’t seem to value his work at McNaughten and Clay. She certainly didn’t understand the impact Harry had made on his life.

  He hated to admit it, but he had always been more comfortable when he was the star. He wanted to be the guy on the field, not the one carrying the clipboard. Yes, he wanted Kerri to do well—he really did. He always swelled with pride when people talked about what a great reporter she was. But he wasn’t excited about playing Mr. Mom.

  In his dreams, he had already figured life out. He would be a big-shot lawyer; she would be a big-time reporter. Their stars would shine equally. They would share duties with Maddie, the child genius.

  But what if Kerri’s star shone brighter? Could he handle that?

  He turned to Kerri and watched her sleep. This was what it meant to love your wife sacrificially. She deserved this. If God had opened this door, who was he to slam it shut?

  He stroked her hair and she stirred, then turned her back and curled up on her side. He fell asleep facing her.

  Nobody ever said that marriage would be easy.

  50

  KERRI WOKE UP EARLY and got ready for work while Landon slept. Normally he would get up too, but this morning, even though she did some extra clanging around, he just grunted, stirred, and slept right through it.

  She didn’t like the way they had left things last night. And when she kissed Maddie good-bye that morning, she realized that she didn’t want to get so busy breaking the latest national scoop that she missed the best days of her sweet daughter’s life. She wasn’t going to be that type of mom, the one whose day-care providers knew more about her kids than she did.

  As she drove to work, she admitted to herself that what she really wanted was for Landon to support the move to D.C. so that she could turn it down and be the martyr. She also realized that wasn’t fair to Landon. Even thou
gh she didn’t quite understand the intensity of his commitment to McNaughten and Clay, she was glad to see him happy. They had sacrificed for years for an opportunity just like this.

  After the newscast—another typical day in the South Hampton Roads market that nobody in the nation’s capital would notice—she made a call to Sean Phoenix.

  “I really appreciate your willingness to put in a word for me, but I think I need to stay here.”

  He spent ten minutes trying to talk her out of her decision but eventually conceded defeat. “That’s one of the things I like about you,” Sean said. “Once you make up your mind, nobody’s going to change it.”

  She gave him an update on the Universal Labs story. Kerri had already spoken to the source. He was bringing the documents later that day. If everything checked out, this thing could be huge.

  “That story’s in good hands,” Sean said. “I knew it would be.”

  ///

  That same afternoon, Kerri received the photographs.

  They came in a plain manila folder. There was no note or letter enclosed. Just photos of Landon and Rachel, 11.5 by 14, looking like the world’s happiest couple.

  They were inches apart in a booth, staring at each other across the table. They were walking down the boardwalk together. She was hanging on to him, and they were both smiling. She was kissing him in the car. They were leaving a hotel room together.

  Kerri was stunned. She flipped through the photos once. Twice. She placed them down on the counter as if they were a snake. Landon would never do something like this.

  Disbelief turned to anger. Maybe this was the reason that Landon so desperately wanted to stay at McNaughten and Clay. Kerri had not trusted Rachel from day one. Now she wanted to rip the woman’s heart out with her bare hands.

  But her real fury was reserved for Landon. They had so much to live for and he was going to throw it away for this? She had waited for him when he was in prison. Endured the endless recriminations that came his way. Defended him to her friends and even her own family.

  Was this man in the photographs the real Landon? The one that love had blinded her to?

  Now she knew how his teammates felt.

  She thought about Maddie, their little family unit, and her anger turned to a gut-wrenching grief. The room started closing in, suffocating her, and tears streamed down her face. The photos scattered on the counter stared up at her, mocking her, making her question everything she thought was solid. Her love for Landon. His love for her. Was it all just a mirage?

  She found her way to the kitchen table and sat down. The room, like her entire world, was spinning out of control.

  How could he do this? Why would he throw away everything they had? What did she do wrong to cause this?

  And the ultimate question, the one she was almost afraid to ask. But she asked it anyway. For the sake of Maddie. For her own integrity. Because she had never once in her life run away from the hard truths of reality.

  How could she live without him?

  51

  LANDON WAS NOT A TOTAL IDIOT, and even if he had been, Kerri was making no effort to hide her feelings on Monday night. There wasn’t just a chill in the air; it was more like the North Pole. Kerri spoke to him in clipped, one-word answers. She put the dishes in the dishwasher with the ferocity of a middle linebacker. The lines on her face were tight, the edges of her mouth turned down in a serious scowl.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I said I’m fine.”

  A few minutes later she snapped at Maddie, and Maddie went crying to her room. Landon shot Kerri a look—You don’t have to take it out on her!

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with you,” he said, as he took off after Maddie. He noticed that even Simba seemed to be keeping his distance from the matron of the condo.

  It took less than ten minutes to get Maddie straightened out. But now Landon was determined to get to the bottom of what was bugging his wife. He had tried to give her some space, but she had no right to vent her anger—probably from work—on the other members of the Reed household.

  He cornered her in the bedroom. She had her back to him, stuffing clothes she had just folded into the dresser drawers.

  “Look, I don’t know what’s eating you, but it’s not fair for you to take it out on me and Maddie. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. But we can’t walk around on eggshells all night just because you’re in a bad mood.”

  “A bad mood?” she asked.

  “Yeah. A bad mood.”

  She continued stuffing clothes in the drawers with the same level of intensity she had demonstrated with the dishes. Landon caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror, eyes red and puffy, her bottom lip trembling. This was more serious than he thought.

  He walked over and put a hand on her shoulder. “You okay?” he asked. His voice was conciliatory, comforting.

  “Don’t touch me,” she said, jerking her shoulder free.

  What was that all about? Landon was ready to fire back but got preempted by Maddie, who had picked that precise moment to enter the room.

  “I’m sorry, Mommy,” she said.

  Kerri stopped what she was doing, left a small pile of clothes on top of the dresser, and turned toward Maddie. Kerri had big tears in her eyes when she knelt down in front of her daughter. “Mommy’s sorry too.”

  As she hugged Maddie, she looked up at Landon. “Later,” she mouthed.

  Landon nodded. Whatever was bothering his wife would have to wait until after Maddie went to sleep.

  ///

  An hour later, after Landon had read Maddie a bedtime story and tucked her in, he walked back into the bedroom, anxious to find out what was eating at his wife. There on the bed, she had spread out several large photographs, each prominently featuring Landon and Rachel. Kerri stood in the doorway to their walk-in closet, leaning against the doorjamb, her arms crossed, her eyes still bloodshot and puffy. Landon’s heart dropped to his ankles.

  He took a few steps toward the bed to get a better look, desperately trying to think of something to say. He literally felt sick, an internal bleeding, as if somebody had cut him and ripped out a piece of his insides.

  He noticed the picture of him and Rachel coming out of a hotel room and picked it up. He examined it under the watchful eye of his wife. “This isn’t what it seems,” he managed.

  “Spare me.”

  “No, I mean it. Some of these photographs aren’t right.”

  “Some?”

  “None of it is the way it looks,” Landon said. He had regained his balance a little and was starting to think clearly again. Yes, he had gotten too close to Rachel. But somebody was trying to make it look much worse.

  “This photo here—it never happened. In fact, nothing has happened between me and Rachel. Where did you get these?”

  Kerri’s eyes were red, but her voice was calm and unwavering. “Why does it matter? What are you doing at a bar with Rachel? Why are you walking down the street with her as if she’s your wife? How do you explain any of this?”

  Landon picked up the photos and began stacking them so they weren’t just sitting there staring back at him.

  “Rachel and I are friends. That’s all it is—all it’s ever been. I represented her in court last week, and she needed some advice. That’s all.” He looked directly at Kerri. He knew she could see the truth in his eyes. “There’s nothing between us, Kerri. Nothing.”

  “Did she kiss you? Did you kiss her? Did you walk down the street with her hanging on to you like that?”

  “No. I mean . . . yes. But, Kerri, just listen—”

  “No,” Kerri snapped. “You listen. From day one I worried about Rachel. You knew she was having an affair with another lawyer in the firm and you still cozied up to her. And now you’re trying to tell me that maybe she kisses you and maybe you walk with her on the beach, but you don’t go to hotel rooms together?” Kerri was talking wit
h her hands now, fully animated, her voice rising. “How could you do this to us?”

  Landon had seen this side of her before. She was on the verge of crying, not so much from sadness but from anger. He walked toward her.

  “Don’t. Come. Near. Me.”

  Her tone stopped Landon in his tracks. “What do you want me to do?” When Kerri didn’t answer, he continued. “Yes, I should have been more careful. And yes, Rachel is too touchy. But that doesn’t mean I had an affair.” He picked up the picture of him and Rachel leaving the hotel room. “Send this to an expert. He’ll tell you. This whole thing is just Photoshopped.”

  Kerri snorted at the response. “What do I want you to do?” she asked caustically. “I want you to be my husband. I want you to tell me the truth. And right now, to be honest, I don’t want to be around you.”

  The words stung Landon. They were supposed to. A smart husband would have let the words bounce off his chest. She needed to vent. The least he could do was listen. But Landon had never been one to run from a fight, especially when someone was challenging his integrity. “I thought we were all about trust,” he said, his tone now matching hers. “Somebody sent these pictures to try and destroy our relationship, and you’re believing that person rather than me.”

  He saw the tears start and lowered his voice. “All I’m asking is that based on our years together and everything you know about me, that you would give me the benefit of the doubt.”

  Kerri shook her head. “I knew you were going to do this. That somehow, you’d twist this so that it’s all my fault.”

  She walked over to the bed and picked up the pictures. She tore the one that showed Landon and Rachel coming out of the hotel room. In half. In quarters. Then in small pieces that she dropped on the bed. She took the other pictures and spread them out.

  “There. I believe you. No hotel room.” She stood back and surveyed what was left. It was, Landon had to admit, still a damning montage.