The Man She Once Knew (6 page)

What aren’t you telling me?

Go away, Callie. It’s too dangerous. You have to leave.

C
ALLIE SAGGED
on the bench outside the jail complex. She didn’t know what to do. She always knew what to do.

Meeting you ruined my life.

She couldn’t catch her breath.

Deal with it.

It was true. She knew that, but damn it, she was trying to help him now, trying to make up for the damage. She’d been the one to come on to him, to lie to him.

She’d been very good at lying. A demon at destruction, so unhappy in her life, so lost and miserable that when a naive, good-hearted boy had reached out to her, she’d yanked him into the cesspool with her. He’d been stunned to find out that she was three years younger, not one, but by then she was pregnant, and it was too late. She’d gotten caught up in the fantasy of Mr. and Mrs. David Langley and refused to consider adoption, abortion, anything but that cockeyed dream of a little family.

What a laugh. She’d have made a lousy mother.

And she hated remembering this, any of it.

Nearly hated him for making her.

Ruined my life.

I did, David. But now I’m going to repay you, even
if I have to fight you to do it.
It was all she knew to do to repair the damage.

But how, if he wouldn’t talk to her?

She sat up straight. By asking her own questions. Maybe the sheriff was satisfied that he knew the truth. Maybe Capwell was too busy; perhaps David was going to give up without a fight.

But she wasn’t ready to. What would she tell Jessie Lee if she did? And David’s mother—how could she ever face the woman again?

You owe him.
She did.

You can fix this.
Jessie Lee’s blue eyes so certain.
Who will help him if you don’t?
Callie understood the little girl’s point. She just hadn’t counted on having to battle David, too, in the process.

She was due at Albert’s office in a few hours to discuss the further disposition of Miss Margaret’s assets. If he hadn’t already demonstrated his distaste for David, she’d have sought his advice. For a moment, she contemplated consulting her boss, but she was certain she knew what he would say.

Why would you get involved when you have your own mess to clean up?

But he was also the one who’d ordered her to take some vacation, to make herself scarce for a while.

Callie glanced at her watch and decided to drop in on Randy Capwell again, see if he was around and test the waters about joining him as co-counsel.

Then she would return to Oak Hollow and start asking some questions of her own. She could think of
some places to start: David’s mother, for one, perhaps going for a drink at the bar where the fight happened, for another.

David might not want her help, but he needed it.

For the sake of what they had once shared, she would play out this hand a little further.

“A
RE YOU CRAZY
?” T
ED
Bachman, administrative assistant to the D.A., asked her when she called the next morning to test the waters there. “You don’t have enough strikes against you, so you jump right into a lost cause?”

She knew better than to call, but she couldn’t help herself. She had to touch base with her old life. Anyway, maybe her boss had changed his mind, so she’d started chatting with Ted about David’s case. For all the good it had done.

“I have to do this. He’s…an old friend.”

“Some friend.”

What would he say if he knew David had refused to see her today? “It’s not a lost cause.”

“If it walks like a duck, sounds like a duck, probability’s high that it is a duck,” he sneered. “C’mon, Callie, Lady Justice doesn’t tilt at windmills.”

She didn’t feel much like Lady Justice lately. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Cal, you used to be a prosecutor down to the bone. What’s happened to you?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.” She was still a prosecutor, a
good one. She could leap into her car, be back to the world she understood the next day.

“Maybe it’s for the best, though.”

A shiver of foreboding crawled down her spine. “What do you mean?”

“Gerald needs a little more time, Cal. You put him in a real bind with that stunt.” His uneasiness frightened her. “If you came back now, you’d have to remain low profile for a while yet.”

“Low profile?”

“You know, research, behind-the-scenes investigation. Just for a little while.”

Grunt work, he meant. She’d paid her dues already. So her choices were to stay away or warm the bench for some undetermined stretch?

Her once-bright future looked murky. She couldn’t settle for that. She should return immediately, stake her claim, defend her turf. She was the best; they’d better not forget it.

But if the D.A. was serious about this trip to Siberia, then what? What was her plan? She had a plan, always.

She could start at the bottom again, of course. She’d survive that. She’d screwed up, and she couldn’t expect there to be no repercussions.

Okay, she could eat crow. That was better than nothing, right? At least she’d be at the heart of things. If she stayed in Oak Hollow, she couldn’t protect herself from those lower on the ladder who were itching to replace her.

Get real, Callie.
Grunt work was the province of
neophytes and washed-up burnout cases, not shining stars. Not Lady Justice, even a tarnished one.

“What’s really going on, Ted?”

“Cal…” He hesitated. “There are people who are urging the boss to ditch you. The campaign’s heating up.”

Ah. Now she understood. She was an embarrassment. A liability to his aspirations.
He said he was behind me one hundred percent!
she wanted to yell at Ted.

And wasn’t that just naive of her? Hadn’t she learned long ago that a politician’s promise was as substantial as a dandelion’s wispy crown?

“I get it.”

“Cal, I’m sorry…” Ted sounded honestly remorseful, but he wasn’t the problem. Well, he was, since his fortunes rose or fell with his boss’s. “If you’ll just stay out of sight a while longer…”

“Don’t sweat it, Ted. You know me, right? Tough as nails, the scourge of the courtroom. I’ll come out of this just fine, you’ll see.” She reversed course, chatted breezily about this intern and that assistant, all the office gossip that suddenly seemed so pointless, managing to get off the phone with her poise intact.

Oh, God.
Hand still clutching the phone, she stared out the window.
I’ve fought so hard. If I’m not Lady Justice, who am I? If I lose that, I lose everything.

Jessie Lee came around the corner of the house, casting a glance toward where Callie stood.

The D.A. had made a promise he might not keep. She’d made a promise, too, regarding David. Was she no better?

And then there were the thirty days Miss Margaret
had asked of her.
Many people will suffer if you don’t accept this.

Callie wheeled away from the window without acknowledging Jessie Lee’s presence. She prowled through the small house, feeling Miss Margaret in every room.

He did stuff for her, too. Miss Margaret would want you to help him.

The welcome mat had been yanked away in Philly, at least for the time being. A fix for her situation there was out of her hands. Meanwhile there were people here in Oak Hollow who did need her, whose futures depended upon her actions. She could serve out her thirty days, working hard and, at the end of it, be closer to fulfilling her duty to Miss Margaret. Her great-aunt had actually given Callie a break with her bequest; Callie wouldn’t get rich off the rents and mortgage payments in this out-of-the-way burg, but the income, managed right, could buy her some options. Of course she would still return and fight for her job—

But she would have a cushion while she tackled it.

Then there was David. Doing right by him was something positive, something to sink her teeth into, and she was all about action, not standing around.

She had indeed played the pivotal role in wrecking his carefully laid plans for his life, and she owed him. She couldn’t change the past, but she could free him now and make a sizable down payment on her debt to him. Whatever he’d been guilty of in the past, he wasn’t guilty this time, she was almost certain. She’d need his help in proving it, though, and he wasn’t cooperating.

The question was, why?

She needed some means to compel him to participate, some way to convince him that all hope wasn’t lost. Until the last case, she’d had one hell of a track record as a prosecutor, so who would understand better how to find the weaknesses in the case against him?

A solution hit her just then.

She would post his bail. Once outside of a cell again, he would savor the freedom, would regain hope, would open up. He’d see that she was on his side, would understand just how good she was. She knew how to win, and she’d win for him.

And if she proved something to others back in Philly, too, well that would be a bonus.

Energized by at last having a direction, Callie left to set her plan in motion.

“W
HAT DID YOU SAY
?” David blinked at the guard who’d come for him.

“You’re out on bail. Get your ass in gear. Your mother’s waiting for you.”

“My
mother
?” Where would she come up with the money? How had she gotten to the county seat, for that matter? She hardly ventured from the house. The only asset she owned besides her worthless car was her home. If she’d pledged that…

He barely managed to keep a lid on the agitation brewing inside as they processed him out with painful slowness, every second agonizing. He cast about in his mind for a solution, but he didn’t think there was any
way to undo the damage. The bitter knowledge that his mother had jeopardized her only security for him ate at him like acid.

When at last he was released through the final door, he was too worked up to dare say anything. With grim focus, he accepted his mother’s hug, then hurried to escort her outside. When she handed him the keys to the car, he stared at the ground until he could wrestle his feelings under control.

“Let’s go home, son.”

He lost the battle. “Why did you interfere? Why would you use the house as collateral? You know they’re going to put me away, and I’ve been trying to save you—” Barely did he clamp off the torrent that wanted to spill.

Frail as she was, she stood against the hurricane. “Drive me home, David. We’ll talk after you’ve rested.”

“After—” He looked away. Counted to ten. Twenty. “Mom, I appreciate that you want to help, but I told you—”

“Do you want me to drive?”

He was reminded of the woman who’d had the strength to raise him, who, until Ned Compton, had been the oak that had sheltered him during his childhood.

He hadn’t seen that woman in a very long time. Thought she’d ceased to exist.

He shook his head. Opened her door and settled her inside, then rounded the car. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in days, and he was barely rational. Better to save any discussion for later, just as she’d suggested.

He started the engine, registering just for a second the
miracle of being able to drive away when he’d expected to be caged again for a very long time.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I know you meant well.”

She patted his hand but remained silent.

He drove them home. Or what would be home for a little while longer.

T
HE POUNDING ON THE DOOR
startled Callie, though it shouldn’t have. A glimpse toward the front porch confirmed what she’d been expecting.

It was David. And he was furious.

She straightened her shoulders and crossed to the entrance. “Hello, David.”

He yanked the screen door open and stepped inside, his powerful presence filling the room. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Apparently he hadn’t managed to get any rest once he’d arrived home. His face was shadowed with fatigue, but his eyes were flashing, his generous mouth thinned with resentment.

“I posted your bail,” she answered calmly. “As you no doubt know, or you wouldn’t be here.”

“I told you to leave me alone.”

“Actually, I believe your exact words were
I don’t want you here.”

“Don’t get cute.” His brows snapped together. “Why are you meddling in my life?”

“You’re not doing such a hot job on your own, now, are you?” She didn’t wait for a response. “You need me, and I have a proposition.”

His eyes narrowed. “Explain that.”

“Would you like some sweet tea? It’s warm today. Come on to the kitchen.”

He didn’t budge. “Cut the crap, Callie. Tell me what you’re after.”

“Are you always so suspicious?” She pressed her lips together, regretting what was an absurd question. Why wouldn’t he be? “All right. You made it clear that you don’t want charity, and I’m not offering it. This is a simple business proposition.” She was prepared to use every ounce of persuasion she’d cultivated performing in front of a jury to sell her ideas.

“Go on.” For the moment at least, curiosity appeared to be edging past his fury.

“I’m still going to convince you to let me clear you.”

“You can try.” His expression was bleak, and it got to her. Life had taken a shining boy filled with ambition and dreams and had ground him down to a man who believed in nothing.

“David—”

“Get on with it.” A warning, every syllable grated out.

She tried to catch his eye, but he wouldn’t look up from the floor, his shoulders tensed. Was he always braced against the next blow?

She took the leap. “I need your help.”

His head rose swiftly, his eyes alert for sarcasm.

“Miss Margaret has dumped her whole life in my lap.”

“Yeah, tough break, being given all that property.”

She flushed. “I’ve never owned anything but a car. Never dealt with home repairs except to call the super.”
She turned up her palms. “I need to understand what there is here, what’s needed.”

“So call a contractor.”

“I don’t know anyone. Have no idea who to trust.”

“Don’t ask me—I’ve only been back a few months. Get Manning to give you some names.”

“I don’t want names. I want you.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because I trust you, David.”

Even as his mouth twisted in a smirk, she caught a flash of vulnerability in his eyes. “Then you’re not very smart. Ask anyone. Hell, look at your own experience. How many ex-cons ever deserved to be trusted?”

“They weren’t you.”

“I clean toilets in a bar. That’s all I am.”

Her heart twisted. “That’s not true, and you know it. Anyway, Jessie Lee tells me you do repairs all the time for her grandmother. That you did them for Miss Margaret.” But pleas were obviously not making any headway. “I paid your bail, David.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“True, but it’s done, and your mother will sleep nights now that you’re out.” Dirty pool, but whatever worked. She pressed the point. “Will you help me in return? We can settle on a fair wage, and you can work off the debt.”

“You expect me to work for you.” He gave a short bark of mirthless laughter.

They were probably both thinking about the same thing—their reversals in fortune.

“No. I want you to work for
you.
To help me free you.”

“That’s not gonna happen. Don’t be a child. The deck is stacked, and you can’t fix it.”

“I think I can. I’m good at what I do.”

“You know I don’t want this.” His voice was low and guttural. “I told you to leave me alone.”

Your mother begged me to save you,
but Callie didn’t dare say that. She held on to her resolve. “Too late now.”

Witnessing his struggle was like watching a magnificent wild creature fight his cage, and she found herself wavering. She wondered why she hadn’t considered that she’d be trapping him in a different manner, which was maybe no less cruel than a prison.

She nearly opened her mouth to tell him to forget it, though she couldn’t take back all that she’d done in her belief that she knew best what he needed.

He spoke before she could. “I’ll start tomorrow.”

But in his tone, she heard the edge of resentment, tinged with resignation. Maybe despair.

He left with a slam of the screen door.

With a heavy heart, she watched him go.