Halton: Vested Interest #6

by Melanie Moreland

  “This isn’t about the money, Hal.”

  “What is it about, then, Fiona? Tell me what you want.”

  She shook her head, sadness filling her eyes. “He took away ten years of my life. He made me promises and broke them. Every single one. I didn’t get to go to school. I didn’t get to have children. I didn’t get a husband who would love me and support me for the rest of my life. He stole my independence, my spirit, and my trust. And the worst part is, I let him.” She met my gaze, tears swimming in her eyes, her fingers clenching and unclenching on her lap. “He made me into nothing. He stole my happily ever after, Hal. He owes me for all that.”

  An odd feeling rippled through my chest at her words. The sight of her tears did something to me—something I’d never experienced before. The need to be the one to fix this for her was vital.

  It had to be me. I had to do this for her. I leaned forward, my hand lifting, the urge to wipe away her tears strong. Surprised at my reaction, I stopped and instead held out a box of tissues. But observing her distress and the way her fists clenched and unclenched on her lap when she was done, I could no longer hold back.

  I covered her restless hands with mine. They were cold and shaking. I wrapped them into my grasp and squeezed, wanting, at the very least, to offer her support.

  “You, Fiona, are not nothing. And for what he stole? He will pay. I promise you that.”

  Her voice shook as she tried to control her emotions.

  “How?”

  I rubbed her hands, trying to warm them. To give her a small measure of comfort.

  “Leave it to me. If you trust me, I can make sure he pays. But you have to follow my lead. Allow me to do what I have to do. Be prepared to fight.” I paused. “It could get ugly when he realizes the one thing he banked on—you simply rolling over and accepting this, accepting everything he says as the truth and taking the scraps he was willing to offer—isn’t going to happen. When he finds out who your lawyer is, all bets are off. Are you prepared for that?”

  She let out a long, shuddering sigh. Her eyes were fixed on our clasped hands, and I let her think. I knew she was scared and nervous, but if she wasn’t willing to face what might happen, we were doomed.

  “Don’t believe him, Fiona. You are strong. He’s hoping you won’t fight. But you came to me. You braved my anger to get what you wanted. That alone proves how strong you are. Show him how wrong he was. Fight him back.”

  She lifted her eyes, determination shining through.

  “Yes, Hal, we fight. Whatever you need.”

  “Good, Fiona, that’s good.”

  “Fee.”

  I frowned. “I’m not asking you for a retainer. We can discuss all the expenses and come to an understanding we’re both comfortable with. I don’t gouge my clients.”

  She giggled, the sound unexpected in the office.

  “You find that funny?”

  “No,” she said, biting her lip to stop laughing again. “I wasn’t talking about paying your fee. My parents, my friends, they always called me Fee. I liked it better than Fiona. Scott thought it was silly and called me Fiona. I want to go back to the name I liked. I want to go back to being the person I liked.”

  I joined in her laughter at my misunderstanding and nodded in agreement at her decision. It was a small step to reclaiming her independence again.

  “Fee, it is.”

  Fee sat in the armchair again as I made lists of what I needed. Documents I had to have, copies of bank statements, taxes—hundreds of pieces of information I would need to make a case.

  “How will I get them?” she asked when I sat with her again.

  “I can subpoena them. I’d like to get a look at the bank statements, though. You say he cut off all access to your old bank account?”

  “Yes.” She paused. “But I had online banking, and the password still works. I don’t think he realized I had that access. And I have a spare key. He doesn’t know I have it—I had a duplicate made once when I accidentally locked myself out and he had to come home early to let me in. He lectured me about being so careless and interrupting his day. I kept it on a different keychain in my purse after that so it wouldn’t happen again. I know he keeps files in his office at the house.”

  “Okay, I need you to sign in to the bank account and get as many statements as you can. That can start the ball rolling.” I paused. “There must be things in the house you want—personal things?”

  “A few. It never really felt like home. Scott picked it out and bought it without asking me. He even had it decorated. I never liked it. There are a few boxes in the basement of my parents’ things and some sentimental items I would like back. He told me he would allow me to go back one time and pick up anything I wanted to take with me—supervised, of course—and at his convenience.”

  I snorted. “Fuck his convenience. It’ll be at a date of our choosing. Maybe we can snag some of the other records we need then.” I rubbed my chin. “I’ll get a glimpse of his schedule and demand a date when I know he’s in court. Whoever he sends to babysit might be easily distracted.”

  “How will you do that? See his schedule?”

  I cocked an eyebrow at her, earning a small grin.

  “Oh,” she said. “Don’t ask?”

  “You got it.”

  “Okay.”

  “All right. I’m going to give you a list of things I need you to try to get for me. I want you to write out everything we talked about tonight. Especially his behavior over the past year. As much detail as you can give me.” I smiled kindly at her. “Sometimes it’s easier to write rather than talk. I’ll write out the list, and while I’m doing that can you sign in and get those statements? We can print them out, and I can look them over tonight. No email or texts until we get you a different phone. Scott might be monitoring the one you have, and I want the fact that I have taken your case to come out of left field.”

  “All right.”

  She looked pale, and I hastened to assure her.

  “I know you didn’t think of that scenario, but I know how devious he is. I’ve got your back, Fee. You can rely on me. Rene as well. We work as a team, and we’ll get you through this.”

  “Okay,” she replied, sounding anxious again.

  I stood. “Come on, let’s get this done, then I’ll drive you back to your friend’s place.”

  Unspeaking, she followed me to the computer.

  “Use this one—it will print out by my desk. I’ll be right there, okay?”

  “Yes.”

  For some reason, I wanted her to relax, to know she wasn’t alone.

  I laid my hand on her shoulder, feeling her tension. “I got you, Fee. You don’t have to face this alone, all right?”

  Her smile was tremulous but there. She lifted her hand, squeezing my fingers. “All right.” She turned to the computer and started typing.

  I hesitated, then walked to my desk, fighting the strangest feeling.

  Why did I want to hug her? I didn’t hug people. I never got personal with clients.

  I glanced back toward Fee.

  Why did I have a feeling she might be the exception to that rule?

  Halton

  The next day was a shitshow of epic proportions. I was late in the morning due to an accident on Dundas Street. I got a ticket for speeding trying to make up the time. My attitude was shittier than normal when I arrived, and I wound up in an argument with a judge who threatened contempt. I had to step back before I got my ass thrown in jail. Court ran over, I somehow lost my phone, and by the time I headed back to the office, I knew there would be a room full of people waiting for me. It was back to back all afternoon, and I was sure Rene would be going crazy not being able to get hold of me to check what was going on.

  I burst into the office, one glance confirming my fears. It was so full, people were standing. I held up my hands.

  “Sorry, folks. Bad day at the courthouse. Give me ten minutes to catch up, and we’ll get going.”

  Re
ne followed me into my office. “Stopped taking my calls now, Halton?”

  “Lost my damn phone. I think it might be in the courthouse somewhere. Call and see if it was turned in, okay?”

  He set a pile of folders on the desk and added a stack of messages. “You have a long afternoon ahead of you. Did you eat?”

  “A stale bagel at the courthouse.”

  “I’ll get you something. Your first appointment is the Sanders about their adoption the birth mother is trying to stop. They won’t mind if you wolf something down. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if she had something in her bag for you.”

  I chuckled. The Sanders were good people who had provided a stable, loving home for a brother and sister abandoned by their drug-addicted mother. The children were settled and happy, and now the mother was trying to get them back. She was a repeat offender and a huge risk to relapse, given her history. The Sanders were petitioning to adopt the kids, who wanted nothing more than to stay with them. Today was about how to proceed. Mrs. Sanders usually pulled out some cupcakes or muffins she had made me, and I always ate them. I was hopeful today would be the same.

  I grabbed the first folder. “Okay. Show them in, and I’ll get started.” I looked around. “Shit. I need that reference book I was using last week for the Dirks case. Where is it?”

  “I put it away. I’ll grab it for you after I let the Sanders in.”

  “Great.”

  Luckily, Rene was right, and the two muffins I ate while talking to the Sanders helped curb my appetite. After our meeting, I escorted them out and called in the Dirks. I noticed Fiona sitting in the corner and wondered why she was there. I hadn’t expected to see her today. Before I could ask, I heard a yell and crash from the library, and I rushed in to find Rene on the floor, the ladder on top of him, a table knocked over.

  I hurried over, pulling off the ladder, pushing away the table, and kneeling beside him. He was struggling to sit up, groaning. Blood gushed from a cut on his forehead.

  “Stay still,” I ordered.

  “I’m fine. I just slipped,” he replied. “Give me a minute.”

  “You’re not fine,” I snapped, using my tie on his bloodied forehead. “Your head is bleeding, and your arm is at a weird angle.”

  “What?” he responded, glancing toward his shoulder. “Oh.”

  Then he passed out.

  For a moment, I froze. It was Fiona’s quiet voice that brought me around. “I called the ambulance,” she said. “They’re on their way.”

  I glanced between Rene and the door to the reception area still filled with clients. The phone was ringing, the sound distracting and annoying. “I can’t let him go alone,” I said. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “I’ll handle it.”

  “What?”

  “Let me take care of this place, and you go with him.”

  “I can’t ask you to do that.”

  “You didn’t. I offered.”

  I hesitated, but I didn’t have much choice. I had no idea how badly Rene was injured, and there was no way I was leaving him alone. I couldn’t walk out of here and leave my clients alone either. I studied Fee, her gaze open and honest, and made a quick decision to trust her.

  Paramedics walked in, and I stood so they could help Rene. I turned to Fiona, talking fast. “My clients—get their schedules, and I’ll see them as soon as possible. They’ll all be contacted tomorrow. Take the phone off the hook. I’ll be going out the other door with Rene.” I paused. “Wait here.”

  I hurried to my office, shut the door, and locked the file room. I knew she was telling the truth about her situation, but I was still cautious, and the thought of a stranger alone in my office—the wife of someone I disliked intensely—didn’t sit well.

  Even if I believed her to be his victim.

  I returned to the room. Rene was on a stretcher, in and out of consciousness.

  “I’ll be in touch when I can,” I instructed her.

  She began to walk away. “Please extend my apologies,” I added.

  She looked over her shoulder. “Done.”

  When he came to, Rene proved to be as stubborn while injured as he was when healthy. He was mouthy and belligerent after getting X-rayed and checked, arguing with the doctors and nurses alike. I had to wrestle his phone away from him, a surprisingly hard feat considering he had one bad arm. He kept texting someone and refusing to stop.

  “The doctors told you to stay still. Jesus, Rene! You have a broken arm and a freaking concussion. Stay down, man.”

  He glared, holding the phone over his head. “This is important.”

  “Nothing is as important as you right now.”

  He ignored me, typing something on his phone. Then he grinned and let me take it away. His eyes danced, alive with mischief. “I think there is something far more important.”

  I turned off the phone. “Whatever. It’s the morphine talking.”

  “And what lovely morphine it is,” he agreed, finally closing his eyes. “You are gonna miss me for the next few days.”

  I didn’t bother to respond—he was already out. He was right, though. I had no idea how I was going to cope without him—and I knew it would be longer than a few days. A temp would drive me crazy, so I was going to have to figure this out once I got back to the office.

  I waited until his son arrived, having driven down from Kingston. I filled him in on what the doctor said, including the fact that Rene had to have surgery later today to repair the broken bone.

  “They say he can probably go home tomorrow if they get him in tonight, but he’ll need help.”

  Andy chuckled. “Have they met my dad? He’ll say it’s the useless arm anyway and he doesn’t need any help.”

  I grinned. “Tell him he can’t do up the buttons on his jazzy vests with one hand. That’ll shut him up.”

  Andy’s wife, Clara, walked in and kissed my cheek. “Thanks, Halton. We’ll take it from here. Dad said you had a ton of cases going on right now. You go handle that. We’ll handle him.”

  “I think I got the easy part of the deal,” I joked. Then I became serious. “Let me know what happens and as soon as he is out of surgery.” I paused. “The firm will cover any medical expenses. He only gets the best.”

  Rene spoke up from the bed. “Good God, man, I fell off the ladder because my ass was too lazy to move it. I overreached. You aren’t paying for that.”

  “I am, so zip it.” I turned to Andy. “Now he’s awake, he’s yours.”

  I leaned over Rene. “For Christ’s sake, do what they tell you, old man. I need you back at the office.”

  He grinned, his eyes still not quite focused. “Not as much as you did before.”

  Then he was out again.

  Before what?

  I had no idea what he was talking about, but I headed back to the office to try to sort out the mess that would be waiting. Luckily, I was able to grab a cab and get there quickly.

  I walked through the door, shocked to find Fiona at Rene’s desk.

  “What are you doing here?”

  She smiled and stood. “I was about to finish up. I figured you’d be along soon.”

  “Finish up what?”

  “Rearranging your schedule. Everyone has been contacted, and I’ve forwarded the updated calendar to your phone and laptop.”

  I frowned in confusion and said the only thing I could think of. “I don’t know where my phone is.”

  She indicated the corner of the desk. “Right there.”

  I picked it up, surprised. “How?” I asked.

  “Rene had the app to find your phone. It was under your seat in your car downstairs. I found your spare set of keys, got it out, and charged it for you. He texted me all the information and answered some questions to help me.”

  Huh. It must have fallen out of my pocket in the car, and in my rush to get to the courthouse, I hadn’t noticed. But her words sank in.

  “I said not to use your phone. I don’t want that asshole—”<
br />
  She interrupted me with a wave of her hand. “Calm down, Halton. I know the rules. Rene gave me a new phone today. I came to drop off something for you and he had it ready.”

  It all became clear. “So, you’re the person he was texting.”

  “Yes—and before you freak out, he didn’t give me any passwords to private files. Only his applications and the calendar. I got the information to call everyone from there. I didn’t touch anything else.”

  I heard the truth in her simple statement. There was no hesitance on my part in my response. “I believe you.”

  “As soon as I had what I needed, I told Rene to stop texting me, and I got to work. I told him I had it covered.”

  “I see. I’m impressed.”

  Her lips curled in amusement, a teasing note in her voice. “You’re impressed because you didn’t think I was capable?”

  “No, I’m impressed because Rene never gives up control here in the office. I’ve hired people to help him, and he sends them away.”

  She shrugged. “What can I say, Halton? I charmed him.”

  “Knock it off with the Halton shit, Fee. It’s Hal.”

  “Nope. I like Halton. It suits you.”

  “Obviously, Rene wasn’t so drugged he couldn’t drop that tidbit.”

  “Actually, I think it was because he was so loopy. He kept referring to it as morephine.” She giggled, the sound light and airy. “He was adorable.”

  I snorted. “Adorable isn’t a word I would use to describe Rene. Cantankerous and bossy, maybe.”

  “Maybe that’s why the two of you get along so well. You’re twins,” she deadpanned.