CHANDLER ARRIVED on the 8 P.M. flight, exhausted. Denise had worn him out while he was in town, making sure to cover the days when she was ovulating. Noah, glad to see his father, had him running around on the weekends through parks, bowling alleys, and toy stores. Chandler even had the courage to return to work, weathering a bluster of Hennessy’s threats and obscenities. Hennessy became particularly hot when he first told him he was going back to California for a few days to finish his work on the Madison case.
“You’ve only been back two weeks and you expect me to let you go again? You’re not God, you know. You’re replaceable.”
“Then replace me,” Chandler said, turning and heading for the door. “This goes beyond employment, chief. I owe this man big. I’ll be back in a few days, I promise.”
“Don’t you walk out of here, Chandler,” Hennessy shouted as the door closed.
Chandler hurried off down the hallway before Hennessy came after him hurling pointed objects.
Five days later, Madison picked Chandler up at Sacramento International and briefed him in on the episode with Catherine. He told Chandler he didn’t think it had any great significance to his case, but he wanted to make sure he knew everything that had transpired.
Chandler was livid when he heard that the district attorney had refiled the charges. He knew instantly that it was a political move, a fact that Hellman and Madison had already gathered. But whatever the motivation, it did not matter. The charges were there and had to be dealt with.
Chandler thought Madison could use some positive news, so he told him that he had gathered some interesting material on Harding before leaving for New York.
“You spoke to everyone on the list I gave you?”
“And more. I figured the people on the list you gave me would lead me to others. I may have struck pay dirt on one of them. He sounded particularly interesting, but I couldn’t meet him before I flew out. I called him yesterday and made an appointment for tomorrow. I feel real good about this one.”
“What have you got?”
“I’ll let you know all the details once I meet with him. I don’t want to get your hopes up.”
They arrived home at nearly nine o’clock. Madison pulled the car in front of the house to unload Chandler’s suitcase. As he inserted his key in the door, it swung open.
“Surprise!” Elliott shouted.
“Daddy, Daddy!” Jonah said as they both huddled around him.
“What are you guys doing here?” Madison asked, a broad smile spreading across his face.
“Decided we’re stronger as a family if we’re all together,” Leeza said, walking into the hallway behind them. She caught sight of Chandler and a broad grin spread her cheeks. “Ryan—it’s been awhile.”
Chandler stepped around the boys and gave Leeza a hug. “Welcome home.”
“Look what I made,” Elliott said. It was a multicolored drawing of something that looked like monsters perched on a hill. It was, the boy explained, a crude rendition of everyone in the family standing on the front lawn.
“I’ve missed you guys so much,” Madison said, squeezing the boys and giving Leeza a kiss on the cheek.
“I’ll just get this stuff up to the guest room,” Chandler said tactfully, giving them a chance to spend some much-needed time together.
Madison sat on the edge of his four-poster bed, watching Leeza unpack a few things. “I missed you so much, hun,” he told her.
She stopped unpacking and walked over to sit down next to him. She ran her fingers through his hair and looked into his eyes. “I missed you too,” was all she said. He sensed she wanted to say more, but he realized it was probably too soon.
He took her hand and kissed it, then drew her close and hugged her. She pulled up on his shirt, exposing his skin, then ran her fingers across his back. She slid her hands around to the front of his pants, where she unbuckled the belt and pulled the zipper down. She kissed him once on the lips, and then knelt at the foot of the bed. He lay back, forgetting for the moment what the future held...the uphill battle for his life.
As they lay in bed, Leeza cuddled up to him under the warm and fluffy down comforter. She must have felt the tension in his body, because she suddenly lifted her head and studied his face.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Something’s bothering you,” she said. “I can tell.”
“It felt good to forget about things for a while,” he said. “But the problem is, it’s like a vacation. Once it’s over, all of your problems are still there.”
She placed her head on his chest. “We’ll get through this, I promise.”
“The last few days I’ve found myself obsessing about prison. There was this story Jeffrey told me awhile back. A dentist was convicted of raping and killing a patient while she was under anesthesia. They threw him in a maximum security prison, and the other inmates used his rectum as if it were a hole in a dam that needed continuous plugging.” He looked down at her. “The guards didn’t do anything to stop it. His lawyer tried to get him transferred twice, but it fell on deaf ears.
“A couple of years later,” he continued, “they started allowing DNA evidence in court. They tested the dried semen they’d found on the woman—and it didn’t match. They realized they’d made a mistake, that it probably had happened just like the dentist had claimed: someone came into his office, knocked him out, and raped that patient. He was innocent. They tried to get the evidence admitted so that he could be released from prison. But the day that the judge had ruled the new evidence admissible, they found his body in the corner of the showers. He’d been beaten so badly that his face was barely recognizable. His skull had been crushed.”
He looked down at Leeza’s face as it rested on his chest, rising and falling with his respiration. She lay still. “I forgot about that story until I read about a similar case a few days ago.”
She began to rub his stomach. “You can’t think about those things, honey. You’re innocent, and you have to believe in yourself, that justice will prevail and they’ll dismiss these charges. Or that the jury will see right through their case and find you not guilty.”
He sighed heavily. “It’s a scary thought. Leaving your fate up to twelve people who don’t know you. Would you trust your life to twelve people you never met if it weren’t in the context of a trial?” He paused, but not long enough for Leeza to answer. “Of course not. Who in their right mind would even consider doing such a thing?”
“As flawed as our legal system is at times, at least it gives you a chance to prove your innocence. To stand up and present evidence in support of yourself.”
He lay there, taking in what she was saying, but not responding. As stimulated as he was only a few moments ago while making love, his body was now numb.
“Right now,” she said, stroking his face, “you’ve put your fate in the hands of two people you trust, who know you very well. Jeffrey and Ryan will pull you out of this mess somehow. I have faith in them.”
CHAPTER 37
CHANDLER WAS UP at six, planning his day. His first appointment was at eight o’clock, with Mark Stanton of Stanton Management Consultants, Inc. Brittany Harding had been an employee of Stanton’s two years ago, and he had told Chandler that he would be willing to discuss his former employee provided it was kept confidential. Chandler met him in their large, plush downtown office that overlooked the snaking Sacramento River.
Stanton was a tall man at six foot five, with chiseled facial features and jet black hair. The kind of good looks that exude confidence and success. He greeted Chandler with a smile and a firm handshake. Plaques of accomplishments and achievements lined one of the walls adjacent to his large maple desk.
Chandler slipped into one of the leather chairs and displayed all forms of his law enforcement identification, past and present, for Mark Stanton to review. He scanned each one of them and handed them back to Chandler. “What can I do for you?”
“As I told you the other day, I’m
looking for information regarding Brittany Harding.”
“You said something about Miss Harding being involved in a crime your friend’s been accused of.”
“That’s right.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Stanton said, leaning back in his large chair. “That woman was nothing but trouble for me from the day I hired her.”
“How so?”
“Look, can we cut to the heart of the matter? I have an appointment in fifteen minutes,” he said, stealing a look at what appeared to be a Rolex, “and I believe I know what information you’re after.”
Chandler raised his eyebrows. He didn’t think it would be this easy. “Let’s hear it.”
“Two months after Harding was hired, I was having some difficulty collecting from a rather large account of mine. At the time, it was sixty percent of my income, so it was killing me—totally hamstringing my ability to do business. I started taking measures to protect my company’s solvency, which involved pay cuts, doing away with overtime for a couple of account managers, and eliminating one of my support staff positions—the one Harding happened to hold. The day before I was going to terminate her, she informed me that it would be a mistake if I let her go. I took it to mean that she thought she was a valuable employee, and that laying her off would be a loss to the company. I didn’t see it as a threat. I explained to her that it wasn’t really my choice, that I needed to make some difficult decisions.”
He raised an eyebrow. “The next morning, I had papers on my desk naming me in a lawsuit that had been filed, accusing me of sexual harassment. She claimed that I called her into my office and told her that if she wanted to keep her job, she’d have to perform certain...activities that went beyond her job description. I then supposedly began to fondle her breasts. She said that she refused my advances, and as a result, was fired.”
“Let me guess that it didn’t end there,” Chandler said, pulling his pad out to take notes.
“No, it didn’t.” Stanton leaned forward in his seat, rested his forearms on his desk. “Not by a long shot. I got a call from her attorney, who was considering a civil suit against me. Wanted fifty thousand dollars to make it all go away.”
“And you paid it?” Chandler asked.
“Wouldn’t you have? Here I was, fighting to keep my company afloat...the last thing I needed was a groundless civil suit that would’ve smeared my name across the papers. She’d once told me a friend of hers was a reporter with the Herald, who I’m sure would’ve jumped at a juicy story for the front page of the business section: Imposing, dominant male president and CEO fondled the breasts of his attractive staff person while she cowered in his shadow, fearful for her life.” He waved a hand through the air. “I had too much to lose and nothing to gain by fighting it. It would’ve been a massive smear campaign. Even if I was found not guilty, would you hire a management consultant who himself was charged with sexual harassment?” He shook his head, as if he were reliving the distasteful choice that had to be made at the time. “There were no viable options. I had to pay her the money.”
“Do you remember the name of her attorney?”
Chandler asked, hoping he could solidify the pattern of behavior that appeared to be forming.
“Movis Ehrhardt. Can’t forget a name like that.”
Chandler smiled.
Stanton sat back, presumably waiting for Chandler’s next question, which did not materialize. He looked down at his watch. “Have I been of assistance, Mr. Chandler?”
“Definitely. Mind if I give you a buzz if I think of anything else?” Chandler asked.
“As long as you keep our conversations confidential.”
“Would you be willing to testify as to what you told me today?”
He folded his hands and gazed down at the desk in front of him. “I need to discuss that with my attorney,” he said, “but my inclination is no. I’m sorry, but the very reason for spending the money was to put this incident behind me, and to keep this garbage out of the papers.”
“Please talk to your attorney. You’ve been there, you know what Brittany Harding’s capable of. Your testimony could make a huge difference for my client.” He stood and they shook hands.
“I’ll be in touch,” Stanton said.
CHAPTER 38
FOLLOWING HIS CONVERSATION with Leeza, Madison felt that he should make the most of his time together with his family. With so few patients to be seen, on a forced vacation that could turn out to be permanent, he involved himself in every aspect of the children’s activities. Each time he would catch a phrase that Elliott would come up with, or observe the look of excitement in Jonah’s eyes with the discovery of something new, the horrifying thought that he might not get to see them grow up invaded his emotions and brought an instant choking sensation to his chest.
Fifteen to life, he kept hearing in his head. The stakes were high...higher than he had prepared himself for, worse than he had ever imagined. Two to six was bad enough. But life? A gulp of air would help relieve the pressure in his chest, but it would be only a temporary fix.
However, when Chandler informed him of the information he had obtained from Stanton this morning, all of their spirits appeared to be buoyed. As they sat around the table preparing to eat their Subway sandwiches, Chandler explained to them how this could fit into the trial and Hellman’s planned defense of “someone else did it.”
More importantly, they knew who that someone else was. The more they dug, Chandler was saying, the greater the likelihood that they would find something of use.
Having been given the day off from his factory job due to scheduled maintenance on the equipment, Ricky was invited over to the Madisons’ for lunch.
“Thanks for calling him,” Madison told Leeza.
“I just figured with all that’s been going on, you haven’t seen him in weeks.”
“I feel awful. I shouldn’t have let that happen. My parents said he was angry with me for neglecting him.”
“You had a lot of stuff on your plate, Phil. I explained that to him yesterday when I called. At least he’s here with us now. Look at him,” she said, motioning to Ricky running around the backyard with Scalpel and the boys. “He’s in heaven.”
Ricky’s thick-tongued speech was difficult to interpret at times. He often became frustrated when he could not adequately communicate, and due to the difficulty expressing his true feelings, he would yell, throw something against the wall, or cry, depending on how frustrated he became at the time.
After Leeza called everyone to the kitchen table, they unwrapped their sandwiches. Ricky took a swig of his soda, leaving a film of brown foam on his face. He wiped it away with his shirt sleeve. “Want th’ome?” he said, offering his drink to Chandler.
Elliott jumped out of his seat. “No, Uncle Ricky. Mom says you’re not supposed to share your drink. It’s got germs, right, Mom?”
“That’s right, Elliott.” Leeza turned to Ricky. “That was nice of you to offer, but I’ll get Ryan a can of his own.” As she brought a plate of pickles and Chandler’s soda over to the table, she asked, “Do you think we’ll have enough evidence to get Phil off?”
Chandler popped open his Coke Zero. “All we need is enough to create reasonable doubt. As long as there’s a hint of doubt in the jury’s minds, they’re not supposed to convict him.”
“What are our chances?” Leeza asked.
“That’s really a question best answered by Jeffrey. But I think we’re on the right track.” He picked up his sandwich and held it a couple of inches from his mouth, preparing to take a bite. “I just wish I had stronger evidence linking Harding to the crime. If I could only place her in the car somehow.” He took a huge bite of his pastrami hero.
“But there weren’t any fingerprints in the car except Phil’s, right?” Leeza asked.
Chandler nodded while his jaw swayed to and fro, trying to negotiate the enormous bite he had taken.
Leeza brought a few more napkins over to the table. “So if her fing
erprints weren’t there, how else do we place her in the car?”
“Finding something belonging to her would certainly help,” Madison said.
“How about strands of hair,” Leeza asked. “Did they find any of her hair in the car?”
“Mm-mm,” Chandler managed, shaking his head “no.”
“Then what else would be there if she was driving the car?” she asked. “An article of clothing—”
Chandler’s eyes became round and large, as if he were choking. He held up an index finger and gestured while he struggled to rapidly chew his food and swallow. He munched animatedly, while Leeza looked at Madison, who was staring at Chandler.
“What?” Madison asked. “You have an idea?”
He nodded affirmatively and swallowed hard. He pulled out his cell phone and punched in a few numbers.
“Ryan, what’re you thinking?” Leeza asked. Chandler didn’t answer, so she turned to Madison. “What’s he got?”
Madison shrugged.
“Can you connect me to Kurt Gray in Trace Evidence?” Chandler asked turned to the Madisons and covered the mouthpiece. “The cans. There might be—hello, Kurt? This is Ryan Chandler... Yeah, Lou’s friend, the Madison case. Listen, those beer cans that were found in the backseat of the Mercedes—have they been examined for saliva?” Chandler smiled and looked over to Madison. “Yeah, saliva. I’ll bet you find some. Where have the cans been stored?... Excellent...Well, you’re going to find that the DNA in that saliva will not match the DNA of the suspected driver of that vehicle... No, I told you, the driver was not Phillip Madison.”
Chandler stood there listening to Gray speak when suddenly the enthusiasm drained from his face. “Jennings? Bill Jennings is on this case?” Chandler squared his shoulders and refocused himself. “Well, regardless of Jennings’s opinions, I’d appreciate it if you’d run the tests.”
Shaking his head out of frustration, he placed a hand on his hip. “Fine, check with Lou. Can you put me through to him?” Chandler tapped his foot on the floor and waited. “Lou, Chandler. I stumbled onto something that may clear my client. I just ran it by Gray, but he was less than enthusiastic about it... Yeah, would you?”
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