‘‘I can handle it.’’
Her brave face was crumbling. ‘‘If Kurt isn’t at the gate in Frankfurt . . .’’
‘‘I remember.’’
‘‘Love you.’’
‘‘Love you, too. See ya, Mom.’’ He shouldered the backpack and went through the door. She watched it, waiting for him to come back out and tell her he was just a frightened boy who couldn’t go through with it, but soon the door was locked.
Through the cloudy window, she saw his plane taxiing down the icy runway outside, taking with it his childhood, while she remained behind, still puzzled at how it could have slipped by her and gotten away.
‘‘You’re a good lawyer,’’ Henry McFarland, the D.A., said. ‘‘We’ve known each other for a long time, and I’ve always respected you, Collier. But this is a fuckup of major proportions. The investigation, the missing wife, Clauson and his report . . . How is he?’’
‘‘Paralyzed on his right side. I don’t think he’ll be back,’’ Collier said. They were eating lunch on a busy Monday at Henry’s desk in his big new office in the corner, where the best windows were.
McFarland looked sorry to hear that. He probably was sorry, but you never could tell, because he was such a good actor. He’d been a drama major at UC Davis before going into law, and it got him great reviews with the juries. His real expression, on the few occasions when he was caught unaware, was inert but watchful, like a lizard waiting for a fly to drop by. ‘‘That was a bad break, but even so, it was too early for an arrest. You let yourself get pushed into a prelim you couldn’t handle.’’
‘‘You’re probably right.’’ No use making excuses, Collier thought to himself. There weren’t any. He was there to take his medicine, and the new D.A. was playing doctor today.
The previous year, just before his breakdown, Collier had been running against Henry for the office Henry occupied now. They had both been deputies, but Collier had the seniority and the reputation, and nobody had been more surprised than Henry when Collier dropped out of the race, leaving it to him.
Henry was doing an okay job dealing with the board of supervisors, shuffling the work reasonably fairly. There shouldn’t be any hard feelings, but there was an awkwardness between them, and maybe some paranoia on Henry’s part. Henry was younger by a few years, and less experienced. That stung, now that he was the boss.
Henry had okayed Collier’s return from his leave of absence. There were administrative reasons for that, most urgent among them the fact that the office was chronically short-staffed and Collier’s return from leave didn’t count as a new hire. Collier knew the ground under him was earthquake prone.
Henry said, ‘‘Look at this news article in the Sacramento paper. They’re making comparisons to the investigation in the Jon-Benet Ramsey case. It’s affecting my reputation, and the office’s reputation. First we say it’s an accident. Then we arrest the brother and call it a murder. Then the whole thing dissolves into chaos. Get me?’’
A nod. Yeah, he got that he was in deep shit.
‘‘And . . .’’
‘‘And?’’
‘‘Barb says you’re seeing the defense attorney. She didn’t tattle, it just came out while we were talking about something else at lunch.’’
‘‘I’m not throwing the case so she’ll sleep with me, Henry,’’ Collier said. ‘‘Just in case you’d be stupid enough to think that.’’
‘‘No, ’cuz you’re already sleeping with her. That’s the word. Is it true?’’
‘‘She and I—we don’t talk about work. We’re professionals. It’s a small town, and you meet who you meet. I mean, I seem to recall you having a flaming thing with the wife of a witness in that triple murder last year—’’
‘‘That’s none of your goddamn business!’’ Henry’s fist hit the desk.
‘‘Exactly,’’ Collier said. He finished his sandwich and drank some of his Coke while Henry collected himself.
In a softer voice, Henry said, ‘‘I’m getting the feeling that you’re not ready to come back, Collier. You’ve changed. I was depending on you. You said you were ready to charge him.’’
‘‘I can handle this, Henry,’’ Collier said calmly. ‘‘And it’s not over yet.’’
‘‘We only get one more prelim. If Flaherty doesn’t bind him over next time, we may be done. Now here’s the big question. Should we drop it right now, before the fallout gets any worse? I mean, are we gonna win a second prelim? ’Cuz if we don’t win, it’s gonna hurt, Collier. It’s gonna hurt me, and I’m going to pass the hurt along.’’
‘‘I hear you, Henry, and I assure you, you can count on me to make it stick, if we go that far. I’ll let you know whether I think we should go forward in a few days.’’
‘‘If we go forward, you have to have the evidence, get me?’’
‘‘Of course.’’
‘‘I want you to review what you have with Barb before you go ahead. I’d sit with you myself, but I’m tied up from here to kingdom come with the casino bomb threat case. Don’t blow it next time, I mean that.’’
‘‘Okay.’’
‘‘Okay.’’ They got up, avoiding each others’ eyes.
Sean Voorhies was waiting in the office. Sean said, ‘‘You all finished getting reamed? The secretary told me.’’
‘‘Hey, Sean. You find the girl?’’
‘‘Not Heidi. But I talked to the little sister, Kelly Strong.’’
Collier dropped into his chair. He could tell by the bright eyes and nervous hands and loud puffing, Sean was excited. He seemed to have run all the way in from the parking lot.
‘‘Ready?’’ he said.
‘‘Go for it.’’
‘‘Kelly’s twenty-five. She’s a student at the University of Nevada. Level-headed girl, though it was a bitch getting her talking. Also, she wouldn’t even let me in. We had to stand there in the doorway. Turns out her father’s inside.’’
‘‘Philip Strong?’’
‘‘She says he’s not doing so good. Mourning and all that. That was frustrating. I tried everything to get in and I tried to talk to him, but she held her ground. Said he’s under a doctor’s care, so I got the number.’’
‘‘I wasn’t really looking for him,’’ Collier said. ‘‘I didn’t think he’d help at the prelim. Interesting he’s there, though.’’
‘‘But that’s not all. So she says a few things, like she’s busy at school and doesn’t know anything and hopes everything turns out all right, and I nod my head and take a note. We start talking about skiing. She says she doesn’t ski now, but it used to be the biggest thing in her life.
‘‘I ask, funny you don’t ski with everybody else in the family being big on that. I go on about how come she’s not involved with the resort. She gets a funny look on her face and says Jim’s responsible for that. She really wants to talk, but her father’s somewhere back there.’’
‘‘Jim’s responsible . . .’’ Collier said.
‘‘She’s down on him. I don’t know why. She has something to tell us. She’s getting ready to say bye and close the door, but then she has a change of heart. She firms up, stands up straight, you know? Says she’ll talk to you right now if you promise to keep it confidential. I guess the dad’s about to leave Kelly’s place.’’
‘‘Impossible,’’ said Collier. ‘‘I’m completely booked.’’
‘‘Unbook yourself. Can you?’’
‘‘What does Jim Strong’s sister have to say that’s such a damn emergency?’’
‘‘I don’t think it’s an emergency. I just think this is the moment she’s ready to unload something. Maybe something really good for us.’’
Collier ran his hand through his hair. ‘‘It might be a break. We could use a break.’’
‘‘I drove all the way here to get you. Come on, I got a county car.’’ Collier flipped open the appointment book, eyed it briefly, and slapped it shut.
‘‘Let’s go.’’
They walked out to the main room, affectionately known as the pit, from which all the other offices branched, and Sean waited while Collier knocked on Barbara’s door. She was sitting with a cop, going over some testimony. ‘‘Excuse me, Barb. Any chance you could handle the afternoon felony calendar for me? The files are on my desk. It’s light today.’’
Barbara looked surprised. ‘‘Are you kidding?’’ she said. ‘‘I can’t juggle that and the prelim I’ve got this afternoon.’’
‘‘Sure you can. Just tell Flaherty you’ll need to start an hour late, and go upstairs and take care of it for me. I’ve got an emergency.’’
‘‘What kind of emergency?’’
‘‘The Strong case. Are you going to help me or not?’’
‘‘This time, Collier,’’ Barbara said, ‘‘but it will cost you.’’
Everything always did.
18
‘‘COLLIER?’’ SEAN WHIPPED around a left curve in the road around the lake. Just past Cave Rock in Nevada, they trundled along behind a lumber truck doing about thirty. Narrow because of the snowbanks on either side, the highway looked like a sleigh trail. The car smelled of stale cigar smoke.
‘‘Collier? You still with me?’’
‘‘Sorry. I was picturing Doc Clauson drooling out of one side of his mouth onto the sheets. A shame, a real shame. His sister is a nurse and seems willing to take care of him. That’s about the only good thing about any of it.’’
‘‘Must be worse when you’re a medico yourself. You know exactly how bad it is.’’
‘‘He’s not that old.’’
‘‘It was the smoking.’’
‘‘Or quitting smoking. The pressure, years of attacks in court. I don’t know.’’
‘‘You think his mind was affected?’’
‘‘Probably. He’s been having some trouble. Like with the Strong autopsy.’’
‘‘We’ll come up with something from these people in Incline. We’ll work around it.’’
‘‘He said something to me,’’ Collier said. ‘‘Earlier, before the stroke. I can’t get it out of my mind.’’
‘‘What?’’
‘‘He said Strong is a monster. He was talking about the crime.’’
‘‘You’d have to be.’’
‘‘I’m going to be very unhappy if I can’t barbecue this guy.’’
They went on in silence. Collier had things to think about, and Sean didn’t seem to mind the lack of chitchat.
Incline Village, the most expensive of the North Shore resort towns, had one casino-hotel, three fine restaurants, a giant condo development or two, and a couple of hundred vacation homes, all clustered in deep forest along the lake. They pulled alongside a five-foot-high snowbank and climbed out. The deep windless shade made the day bone cold.
The girl who answered the door wore a blue denim jacket, metal-rimmed glasses, and red-rimmed eyes. ‘‘Come in,’’ she said. ‘‘It’s a long story.’’
‘‘Those are the best kind,’’ Collier said matter-of-factly.
Nina had just returned from the airport and was on the phone when Collier exploded through the office door. He grabbed her and pulled her out in the hall while Sandy and Mrs. Geiger, who had just arrived, watched openmouthed. The door shut behind them.
In the dimly lit hall, his warm mouth found hers and they leaned against the wall. As if she had been missing a part of herself, his touch relieved her. He kissed her neck, hunching down to reach her though she was on her toes already, his hands moving up and down her back, continually gathering her closer into the rough material of his open coat until she was engulfed in it.
This went on for quite a while. The real-estate ladies down the hall came out of their offices and turned around and went back in again.
‘‘Oh, baby, I missed you so much this weekend.’’
‘‘Me, too.’’
‘‘I don’t ever want to be separated from you again.’’
‘‘It’s three o’clock in the afternoon,’’ Sandy said from the doorway. ‘‘Just thought you might want to know.’’
‘‘I’ll be—right in, Sandy.’’
‘‘Hmph.’’ The door shut.
‘‘Why are you here?’’ She brought his head up, made him look at her.
‘‘I want you to get out of the Strong case,’’ Collier said. ‘‘Please do that for me. And don’t ask any questions. I promise you, I’ll never ask you to do anything like this again.’’
Dismayed, Nina stepped back.
‘‘Why?’’ she said.
‘‘I can’t tell you.’’
‘‘You have some new information?’’
‘‘Don’t ask. Other people are involved. I can’t explain. Just trust me.’’
‘‘Tell me why. You have to! What did you find out?’’
‘‘I found out,’’ Collier said, his mouth at her ear, whispering, ‘‘just how dangerous and vindictive he is. You’re in danger. Hear me?’’
Now she was frightened. But she couldn’t just say, ‘‘All right, sure, whatever you say.’’ Of course Collier was prejudiced against Jim. She had to be able to assess—
‘‘You have to tell me. What’s he done?’’
‘‘Do what I say. Go back in there and call him and say you’re through. Return whatever money he’s given you.’’
‘‘It’s not that simple.’’
‘‘Make it simple.’’
‘‘I have to think about it.’’
‘‘Don’t think long.’’
‘‘Can I see you tonight?’’
‘‘Your place?’’
‘‘I’ll be off at six. I’ll cook dinner.’’
‘‘Six. Please. Go in there and call him. Do it.’’ Collier was gone.
Nina went back in, somewhat dazed, and said, ‘‘Sandy, call Artie’s office and see if I can run in and see him as soon as Mrs. Geiger and I finish up. And call Jim Strong and see if he can come down this afternoon. I have to talk to him. Hi, Mrs. Geiger. How are you?’’
‘‘Not so good, hon.’’
‘‘Well, come on in.’’
They went into the inner office and shut the door. Nina’s face was still warm from Collier’s heat, and his alarm had rubbed off too. She calmed herself. Mrs. Geiger waited patiently, perched on the edge of her chair because her feet didn’t reach the ground otherwise.
‘‘Sorry,’’ Nina said. She was a little brusque, not at all recovered from the intensity of that brief meeting.
‘‘No problem. You’re in love with that fellow, I see.’’
‘‘Yes. I suppose I am.’’
‘‘That’s nice. I haven’t been in love since 1967, but I remember the feeling well.’’
‘‘What can I do for you today? Uh, I think we had everything all taken care of . . .’’ Nina opened the file, scanned it, and went on, ‘‘Yes, we’ve sent out the last of the medical bills. Sandy was just going to put this file in the closed cases. We just filed the divorce petition for you.’’
She took a good look at Mrs. Geiger, who still wore the same somewhat threadbare navy coat and the same black purse. Her mouth was set in a permanent smile, the one her mother had undoubtedly taught her to wear no matter how bad it got.
‘‘So you’re not doing well? What’s wrong?’’ Nina said, her tone softening.
‘‘Well, I was just wondering if we could change our minds,’’ Mrs. Geiger said.
‘‘Change our minds?’’
‘‘Get more money for the injuries.’’
‘‘I’m very sorry, but no, we can’t do that, Mrs. Geiger. You’ve signed a release of all claims against the parties. We’ve accepted a settlement check. It’s all over.’’
Mrs. Geiger took that in. ‘‘But you know, hon, my back’s really acting up.’’
‘‘Oh. I see. Okay, no problem. We got you future medical expenses, so long as your orthopedist agrees the treatment is related to your preexisting condition. You just call up and—’’
‘‘I went back to the Honeybee Restaurant, where I always worked, and asked for a part-time job. I know I wasn’t supposed to, but I did. My boss, Mr. Hendrickson, he’s a fine boy. He said sure and started me next day. And I found out—I found out I can’t do it anymore. I mean, my back was plain killing me. I had to lay down all day the next day.’’
‘‘But your doctor has explained to you that you can’t do that anymore. You can’t work. That’s what the settlement is for.’’
‘‘But I
always
worked. I like to work. I don’t want to sit home with nothing to do. I thought as soon as the case was over I’d be right back there and able to earn my living. Why, I’ve been working since I was twelve years old.’’
Nina smiled at her and said, ‘‘It’s time to take a rest now. Visit some friends, travel around, enjoy life. You can afford it.’’
‘‘I need to
work.
But my back won’t let me.’’
Her eyes grew big and saucer shaped as she said this, and Nina thought, it’s finally hit her, that she really is disabled. She must have thought that she could collect the money and go back to her old job. She thought it was all some kind of wonderful break that she wouldn’t have to pay for. ‘‘I need more money,’’ she persisted. Her smile trembled a little.
‘‘But there’s nothing I can do, Mrs. Geiger. There is no more money.’’
Without a word, Mrs. Geiger pulled out her check register and spread it open in front of Nina. It showed the deposit of her settlement money, followed by a daily series of large withdrawals, five to fifteen thousand dollars a day.
The balance was forty-six dollars and thirty-two cents.
‘‘Where’s your money, Mrs. Geiger?’’ Nina asked, puzzled.
‘‘We-e-ell, I lost it, hon.’’
‘‘How?’’
‘‘Playing the horses at the Race and Sports Club at Harrah’s.’’ This took a minute to settle in. Casinos didn’t give money back. Ever. The money was gone. Unbelievable!
‘‘You lost a hundred and sixty thousand dollars in a—a—week?’’
‘‘Twelve days. Twelve days of finishing out of the running. The worst bad luck. I kept getting these hunches, and I kept being so close, then I was losing a lot of money and I figured my horse was bound to come up now, so I kept betting more and more. It was my turn. But my turn didn’t come. They make it so easy!’’
So Mrs. Geiger was a compulsive gambler, a common problem at the lake. Nina thought back to the madness that had seized her too on her last visit to that slot machine, the one with which she had the relationship.
‘‘I used to hand my paycheck over to my husband every Friday,’’ her client went on. ‘‘And I knew I ought to be careful. I even talked to my minister, Reverend Minor, about putting the settlement away for me. We had it all set up for him to give me some of it each week. But I never did make it over to the church.’’
‘‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’’ Nina said, shaking her head. She could hardly believe it. ‘‘How about your husband? Could he help you?’’
‘‘He’s not coming back. I told you, he’s gone back to Oklahoma. I don’t ever want to see that man again anyway.’’
‘‘But what will you do?’’
‘‘My sister says I can live with her, but I have to pay groceries and everything until the sosh-security starts coming. That’s still two years. So I came in today thinking maybe you could help me. Since we did share the risk.’’
‘‘Wait a minute,’’ said Nina. ‘‘Share the risk?’’
‘‘Well, we thought we had the crow in the hand. But that darn thing flew off. With the money. Not all the money, though.’’
‘‘I suppose you’re talking about my fee?’’
‘‘Sixty thousand dollars worth of fee. That’s a lot, hon.’’
‘‘I’m not going to return the fee, Mrs. Geiger. I have a family. We have a contract. I did the work.’’
‘‘Oh, I don’t want all of it. I thought we ought to split it. It’s
my
back, after all, hon. You’re not going to let me starve, are you?’’
Nina sat back in her chair and thought about it. Mrs. Geiger’s game smile was still hanging on her face, though it was mighty wobbly. Nina had the feeling that, once that smile was gone, it would never come again.
How many hours had she actually put in on the case? A hundred, maybe. She’d been paid fantastically well, but she’d taken the chance of being paid nothing. She’d fronted all the expenses, saved the day. She’d only done what any lawyer does. Why was she feeling so guilty? Artie would have ushered the woman out with many a fine word about contracts. After all, Mrs. Geiger had done it to herself.
But she was a client. Nina had taken on Mrs. Geiger’s problems, all of them. She wasn’t prepared to see her panhandling in the snow.
She opened her bottom drawer and brought out the office checkbook. Mrs. Geiger sat there solemnly. Nina wrote out a check from the office checking account and handed it to her.
‘‘Hon, you are a peach. Thirty thousand dollars. Why, it’s made out to Reverend Minor!’’
‘‘In trust for you. Have him call me if he has any questions about setting up an account. Take this, too.’’ It was a business card with the phone number for Gambler’s Anonymous. ‘‘Go to a few meetings. You need to talk about what just happened to you.’’
‘‘Good girl,’’ said Mrs. Geiger. ‘‘You’re a peach, hon. A real lady.’’ The smile had gotten a lot wider.
It almost made it worth it.
‘‘I’ll send you a corrected fee agreement. Good luck. Take care of yourself.’’
Sandy was just hanging up as Nina walked Mrs. Geiger to the door. ‘‘Artie says to come ahead.’’
Nina climbed the stairs to the second floor. Artie was sitting in his conference room at the computer, looking up some cases on Lexis.
‘‘One second,’’ he said, not looking up. Nina went to the window. Artie had a good town view, the slushy street out front with its solid line of traffic, the convenience store and Mexican restaurant across the street. Behind them, mountains. Behind them, far-flung sky. And behind that? What was behind it all? Was there some ordering principle? Some all-seeing power which would one day explain why she had just calmly given away thirty thousand dollars?
‘‘Ah, shit,’’ she mumbled to herself. She knew it had been the right thing to do. She didn’t even have time to worry about it now.
When Artie swiveled around to face her, she said, still standing at the window, ‘‘I’ve come to ask you a question. Would you be willing to take over the defense for Jim Strong?’’
‘‘Without you?’’
‘‘Without me.’’
‘‘No. No, I wouldn’t do that.’’ Artie spoke gently.
‘‘I thought not. But I wanted to ask.’’
‘‘Why?’’
‘‘Because I’m thinking about getting out of this case, and before I talked to Jim I wanted to have someone else I trusted lined up for him.’’
‘‘I’ve gone through too much to get my blood pressure down. Sorry, but the stress would—’’
‘‘You don’t have to apologize, Artie. The opposite. I apologize for busting in on you like this.’’
‘‘I’m kind of disappointed. I thought we were going to work together. Did something come up?’’
‘‘Yes, something came up. Or no, it’s just an ongoing feeling that I don’t want this. I want out.’’
‘‘Still thinking that he’s lying, eh?’’
‘‘I suppose.’’
‘‘The going’s getting tough?’’
‘‘Yes.’’
‘‘What about loyalty to the client? All that? He done anything like bounce a check on you?’’
‘‘No, no.’’
‘‘Then he’s done his duty by you.’’
‘‘Someone I trust, who ought to know, says he’s dangerous. To me personally.’’
‘‘Any specifics?’’