Judge Foreman listened to the charges as he thumbed through his notes. “How does the defendant plea?”
“Not guilty, your honor.” I looked up from my file.
Judge Foreman cleared his throat. “On all charges?”
“On all those read, unless the DA’s office has more to contribute today? Like jaywalking, or speeding, or something else my client hasn’t done?”
Foreman gave me a look a look of exasperation over his glasses.
“The defense wishes to inquire why the prosecution has failed to provide us with their entire discovery.”
Jax Wagner shuffled through his papers. “The entire discovery was delivered to Ms. Tucker’s office.”
I looked at Jax and raised a brow. He hesitated and looked away. “Your honor, the prosecution asserts that Mr. Accardo hired a mystery witness to murder one Vincent Serrelli. But the witness is not named in discovery. In order to provide my client with a defense, I need the name of that witness.”
“The witness’s name was withheld in regard to his immediate safety.” Jax countered. “Our office was concerned he might come to the same result as Mr. Serrelli.”
“Judge Foreman, I object. If the prosecution asserts Mr. Accardo hired this person to murder Mr. Serrelli, then Mr. Accardo would already know who the man is. The only reason the witness would not want his name in discovery is because Mr.
Accardo did not hire him, and once his name was supplied, Mr. Accardo would be able to pursue the witness.”
“Pursue the witness, Ms. Tucker?” Judge Foreman asked.
“Sue the man for slander.”
Judge Foreman looked verklempt and turned on Jax. “Who is the witness, Mr. Wagner?”
“Your Honor, if a witness is in jeopardy then his name may be withheld until we go to trial,” Jax retorted brusquely.
I lurched to my feet. “Your Honor, under Federal Rule of Criminal Procedure 12.1, the prosecution must disclose the names of all witnesses that will be called to rebuke the defendant’s alibi defense.”
Jax rose. “The witness is not rebuking his alibi.”
“You’re exactly right, he’s told the DA’s office that he is a murderer for hire, yet you’re charging my client with his crime. Furthermore, you’re not producing him for cross examination, nor providing the defense with his name, so that we may investigate this person’s background, whereabouts, or even his credibility as a witness.”
“But your honor,” Jax bellowed.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Wagner, it doesn’t matter how loudly you yell in my courtroom, you’re going to have to answer the interrogatory question in reference to this witness.” Judge Foreman held up a hand, warding him off as he threw back a slam of Mylanta. “Mr. Wagner, it is not excessive or burdensome for you to produce this witness’s name.”
“Your Honor, I want more than just his name now. I want Mr. Wagner to produce the witness in court so that I have an opportunity to ask him a few questions.”
“You can take his deposition, Ms. Tucker,” Jax replied.
“I could have already done that, if you had provided me with his name,” I retorted.
Judge Foreman dropped his gavel. “Wagner, if you wanted to handle this correctly, then you should have produced his name. Now you’re wasting our time. Swear the man in, and we’ll settle this nonsense.”
The look on Jax’s face said that he hadn’t quite outgrown the possibility of hurling. “Your Honor, he isn’t here.”
“And why not? I wanted to start this trial today. Why wouldn’t you have him in the courthouse?” Foreman bellowed.
Jax hung his head in defeat. “We don’t know where he is.
He disappeared yesterday.” Jax bore a hole in Tony’s forehead. He didn’t need to speak. The accusation hung in the courtroom.
The judge was none too happy. “Mr. Wagner, you have no witness, your office lost a man who told you he was a contract killer. Why wasn’t he in custody?”
Bingo for me, ut-oh for Jax.
“We thought he would be safer outside of jail.”
“Since when does the DA’s office have jurisdiction over a confessed murderer? I was under the impression that it was the judicial branch that made that decision!”
“Your honor,” was all Jax could muster.
“In light of this revelation, and in the absence of a witness to rebut Mr. Accardo’s alibi, I am accepting his alibi. It’s collaborated by the state’s own surveillance detail and by the visitor’s log at Mr. Accardo’s grandmother’s retirement home. I must say it’s refreshing that Mr. Accardo spends that much time visiting an elderly relative.”
“Your Honor, I object,” Jax blustered.
“You can object all you want, but the murder charges are dropped.” Foreman dropped his gavel. “Now what else do you have for me in reference to Mr. Accardo?”
“Nothing further.”
“Pardon me, Mr. Wagner, I didn’t get that,” the judge said.
“Mr. Serrelli was our case. I have his depositions.”
I jumped out of my seat. “Those are inadmissible without producing Mr. Serrelli for cross examination.”
“Would you like for me to produce his corpse?” Jax responded snidely.
“Do you know where the body is?” The courtroom was desolate except for a few reporters who erupted into laughter, which brought the judge’s gavel down on my still pounding head.
Then Judge Foreman pointed it at me. “I’ve warned you, I’d hate to put you in a cell for contempt, but don’t push me.”
“I beg your apology, Your Honor.”
The judge addressed Jax. “I’m sorry, Mr. Wagner, this case has more holes in it than a brick of Swiss. If you don’t have any other collaborative evidence, this case is over.”
“But your honor…”
“All you’ve got is a handful of buts, Mr. Wagner. Case dismissed. Mr. Accardo is free to go.”
Jax Wagner looked at Eve Moore. She shrugged her shoulders while he assembled his belongings. Judge Foreman turned his gavel on Jax. “I want that man’s name, Wagner. I’m issuing a bench warrant, and I want you to personally see that your man is brought in.”
Now, Jax’s up to his eyeballs in it. I would have felt bad, except Jax sent uniforms to pick up Accardo in the first place.
Jax nodded curtly toward Foreman and then rushed past me as I busied myself, packing my briefcase.
Tony had an idiotic grin on his face.
When the prosecution exited the courtroom, I turned on Tony. “If I ever find out you had anything to do with murder or the disappearance of the mystery witness, I’ll make sure you spend an eternity enjoying cannoli behind bars.”
“I don’t know you well,
Bella
, but you know I’m not a murderer. I’ll have Fletch contact you in reference to Ms. Gutierrez’s contract.” He stormed away.
I turned to respond only to find Aidan standing in the back of the courtroom in a snazzy charcoal suit.
He leaned over the railing, greeting me with a kiss. “Babe, you made Accardo mad.”
“He doesn’t like being saved by the same woman two days in a row.” I glided into my coat as the next case was called. We slipped into the elevator, neither of us speaking.
We got into Tank and drove a few blocks, coming to a halt along Adams. The valet came to Aidan’s door. “My lawyerdar tells me something is going on. Why do you want this meeting in an exclusive restaurant? You’re awfully dressed up.”
“You’re way too paranoid.” He pushed the second valet out of the way to help me out. When I turned in my seat, the side slit of my skirt jacked up, exposing the top of my thigh high stocking. “If you’re trying to distract me,” Aidan whispered, “that’s a great way to start.”
“In your wet dreams, Palowski.”
He chuckled as he maneuvered me into the restaurant, helping me out of my trench. He leaned into me. “I forgot to tell you how pretty you look today.”
He smelled better than the restaurant, and I almost tripped over myself in spite of my lawyers’ composure. The maitre d’ escorted us to our table, where Fletch was already situated. I admired the buffed white marble floor, the fabulous pale sage green wallpaper, the silk damask round tufted banquettes, and long table cloths sat in puddles around the legs of the tables. The booths encircled a huge ornate vase of fresh flowers. The place smelled faintly of subtle flavors, spices, and fresh flowers.
Fletch concluded a call as we approached. I slid into the booth alongside Aidan. As Aidan ordered a bottle of wine, Fletch glared at me. I smiled.
“That was Accardo on the phone. He says you sent him a contract with some outlandish requests for that singer.”
“Is this the reason for this meeting?”
“We’re here to talk about business between you and Aidan.”
“Then you can call my office and set up a phone consult on the contract, and not waste Aidan’s time.”
“Public meeting, very smooth, you must be confident she won’t kill both of us in a room full of witnesses.” Fletch plastered an idiotic grin on his face, which he directed wryly to Aidan. “You might have misjudged her, though. As just demonstrated, she always plays for the jugular.”
I felt the hair on my nape raise and my lawyerdar was I bleeping in my head. What the hell had I just walked into?
Aidan steadied my leg under the table with his hand. “Reassure her no one’s out to get her.”
“I would, but you’re after her, full-steam ahead.”
Aidan picked up his menu. “Let’s decide on lunch.”
I couldn’t concentrate on the menu. Nervousness radiated off both of them. Luckily, Aidan ordered something that sounded good, and I ordered, “The same.”
As soon as our wine was poured, Fletch pulled out a legal file and looked at Aidan. “Libby, Aidan has written a new will.”
My blood pressure dropped.
“I’ll give you a copy for your records. Basically, it names Cass as his sole heir and you as the executor. On the occasion of his death, Cass will inherit approximately…” he handed me a Post-it note. I tried to count the zeros, but couldn’t get my eyes or my mind to focus.
I remembered this morning, as I was toweling off from my shower, I heard them in Cass’ bedroom. They spoke back and forth, as if they’d know each other forever. A pang of jealousy hit me. I’d never had to share Cass. And I’d never considered his loving someone as much as he loved me. The thought had been with me for only a second before I’d heard Cass giggle out a belly laugh that was so wholesome that a deep sense of peace washed through me.
“Give or take a few million. Most of the money is currently in trust; it’s what he inherited from his grandparents. What he’s earned playing ball is invested. Some of that money has recently been liquidated and deposited in a discretionary account for you.”
I couldn’t hold onto a breath. Aidan’s hand slid up and down my thigh. “If you faint in here, we’ll have a situation.”
Fletch cleared his throat. “Aidan has made about forty-nine million-dollars in the last eight years from contracts, bonuses, and endorsements. If he had paid child support during this time, it would be twenty percent of his income, which is about ten million. We’ve liquidated five million to date and once his new contract is paid out, we will get you a check for an additional five-million, plus the six-million you get off the new deal.” He paused for some wine. “All in all, you’re a very rich lady. I did not extend any of the money in trust toward child support since the interest it earns is put right back into the original investments. If you don’t like how I’ve worked this out, you can take us to court, and you might end up with a few million more or less, but I’ll leave that up to you.”
I couldn’t swallow what was in my throat, I felt more panic stricken than being alone and pregnant. That I could handle. Managing a fortune I could not.
Aidan awaited my reaction stoically.
“No,” I was able to choke out a single syllable.
“No?” Aidan and Fletch said in unison. Aidan looked mad. Fletch appeared victorious.
I turned toward Aidan, ignoring Fletch. “I don’t want your money. I did not do this to put my hand in your pocketbook. All I wanted was for you to help Cass physically not financially. You take the money back. I don’t want it.”
Aidan picked up my hand. “Babe, it’s the money you and Cass are entitled to. I’m his father, and it’s my job to support him.”
“You signed your parental rights away. Didn’t Red Beard tell you don’t have a financial obligation to Cass?” I looked at Fletch, who perched on his chair like a long-tailed, red cat with the preverbal canary hanging from its jaws.
“This is my moral responsibility. This way you can do whatever you want with your life. You’re free. If you’re smart with the money, you won’t ever have to work again. I owe you this, I owe Cass this, and it’s already done.”
It felt like it was my skull dangling from Fletch’s jaws. “What do you want in return?” The feathers at my neck bristled.
At that accusation, our food arrived. Aidan and I had chopped salads and Fletch had a side of beef that reminded me that the Chicago cattle yards hadn’t been far from here too many years past. I waited for it to moo when he sliced into his meal.
Aidan released my hand. “Let’s eat lunch, and then we can discuss the rest of it.” He didn’t wait for a response. He just picked up his fork and started. I did the same, trying my best to gather my scattered thoughts. Aidan started in on Fletch, “Don’t you know that eating like that will kill you?”
“What do I have to live for anyway? My wife won’t let me within a yard of her. I thought marriage meant unlimited sex.”
I gagged on my salad, and Aidan chortled.
“I’m glad that my pain can bring you so much happiness.”
Fletch’s fat cat attitude lost its Cheshire grin. “If she isn’t barfing, she’s crying, or worrying about something.”
“Take her away for a few days.” Aidan suggested.
“When all hell is about to break lose between you, little Mary sunshine here, and the media? No telling what imaginary tales Vanessa is feeding TMZ, but when they put it together I’ll be on overtime, and I might even have to pull in a PR person.”
“You’re way over-stating this. It will be a five second story, and we’re going to keep a low profile. I was thinking of taking Libby and Cass to the retreat, when I get out of the hospital until Cass has to start chemo.”
“Cass and I are not leaving town,” I said defiantly.
“We can argue about that later, babe.”