“Oh, and Angel,” Joe said, calling her back. “I talked to Dr. Campbell this morning. Says you weren’t planning on going back in. Not a good idea. I think you should sign on for a six-week stint.”
She nodded. With all that had gone on in the last few days, she was ready to admit she might need a good shrink after all.
“Listen,” Joe added, “when you see Frank, tell him hello from me. I thought I might go up and see him sometime tomorrow.”
“I’m sure he’d appreciate that.”
Joe went back to his desk, head bent over some paperwork. She could see no hint of empathy or compassion now. No “I’m sorry this is happening to you” or “We’re behind you on this.” He clearly wanted to be rid of the entire incident—and the woman who’d created it. She felt as though she’d been cut off, left to drift in a raging ocean with nothing to hold on to.
Minutes later, Angel and Randy stepped outside into bright sunshine.
Randy glanced at his watch. “I have to be back in Portland before dinner. Is there a place close by where we can get some lunch? There are some things I’d like to go over with you.”
“Um, sure.” Angel led the way, walking a block toward the water to Earth’s Bounty. “This place serves mostly vegetarian, but they have wild fish and organic chicken.”
“Sounds good to me.” Randy reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a white cloth hanky and, leaving it folded, wiped his brow. “Organic chicken?”
“That’s what I call it. It’s like free range or something. They raise them in big pens where they can roam free and eat natural grains. There aren’t any chemicals in their food.”
“So are you a vegetarian?”
“Me? Hardly. I just like their food.”
“Hmm.”
Angel had to hurry to keep up with his long, determined strides. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” Randy slowed his pace.
“You don’t seem too interested in this case. In fact, both times we’ve met you acted like you’d rather have been somewhere else.”
He ducked his head, looking sheepish. “Sorry you feel that way. I apologize if I’ve given you that impression.”
“So you are interested?”
“In representing you? Sure.” They walked several minutes before he spoke again. “Look, I need to be honest with you. My wife is having a baby soon and... well, she was going in for an ultrasound today. Guess my mind has been more with her than with you. I’m sorry.”
Angel grinned. “Why didn’t you say so? We don’t need to talk now.”
“Thanks, but I have to eat lunch anyway, and there are a couple of things we need to go over.”
They reached the restaurant, a grayish tan two-story house with green and purple trim. The Victorian showplace had been built in 1910, and with the remodeling it looked as elegant now as it must have back then. It sat up from the water about fifty feet and had a deck out the back where customers could eat if the weather cooperated. Angel and Randy sat on the deck. A light breeze ducked in and out between the umbrellas.
“This is a nice spot. Do you come here a lot?”
“About once a week.” She picked up her menu and spotted Brandon sitting inside with his father and his brother, Carl. They hadn’t seen her, or at least they gave no indication that they had. Brandon didn’t look too pleased about being there. His father leaned forward and said something, causing Brandon to put down his napkin. He pushed back his chair, then got up and walked out. Carl started to get up as well, but his father laid a restraining hand on his arm. Mr. Lafferty rubbed the back of his neck and took a drink. She’d have to remember to ask Brandon about it later. That is, if she saw him later.
Angel turned back to Randy, who was still studying the menu. A waitress came by with their water. “What can I get you?”
Randy ordered a turkey sandwich with salad on the side. Angel ordered a chicken salad, and, since they didn’t serve Coke, an iced tea.
“Would you like something to drink?” the waitress asked Randy.
“Yeah. Do you serve fresh vegetable juice?”
“Sure do. There’s a list on the back. We can put anything in it. Carrot, celery, spinach, chard...”
“I’ll have the carrot with ginger and a little celery.”
Angel made a face. “You actually drink that stuff?”
“My wife converted me. It’s really pretty good.”
“If you say so. You should get together with Detective Riley. He’s into health food too.”
“A lot of people are.” Randy pulled up his briefcase and studied some documents. “We need to talk about the charges being brought against you.”
Angel’s stomach knotted again. “I don’t understand why this is happening. I mean... I do, but it isn’t right. That kid represented a clear and present danger.”
“Yes, but there’s more at stake here. We’ve got an African-American child who, as it turns out, had no affiliation with the gang members who robbed the store. We’ve got the kid’s family ready to take you to court. No matter what the DA or the grand jury decides, we have that to contend with.”
“I feel like I’m being thrown to the wolves.”
“Well, I guess in a way, you are. So I think it’ll be best all around if we just put a lid on everything right now. We’ll plea bargain for a lesser charge, and with the civil suit we can settle out of court.”
“And where does that put me?” Angel picked up her water glass.
“You’ll be terminated from your position in the police department. You’ll get a sentence of maybe five years but won’t have to serve any time.”
“I’d be on probation for five years? No way.”
“I don’t like it either, but you’d be better off if we don’t end up in court. Let’s face it, you’re not exactly coming off as a saint here.”
“There hasn’t even been a grand jury hearing yet. They probably won’t let this go to trial.”
“The DA thinks otherwise. He’s certain that because of the high-profile aspect of the case, it will go to trial and you will lose.”
Their lunches came. Angel picked at her salad, and when she finally put a bite into her mouth, she wished she hadn’t. She set her fork down and sipped at her tea. “I don’t want to plea bargain or settle out of court.”
He grimaced. “I was afraid of that.”
“I can’t just walk away from my job. I didn’t do anything wrong.” She twisted the napkin on her lap.
Randy took a drink of his carrot juice. It left an orange smile on his lips like he’d been drinking orange Kool-Aid. “Fair enough. If you don’t settle, this is going to drag on for a long time, and I may not be able to represent you.”
“Because of the baby?”
“Partly. I’m resigning my position with the union and going into private practice so I can stay in Portland. Just traveling down here and back takes a five-hour chunk out of my day.”
“So you want me to accept the charges, hope for a plea bargain, and get it over with.”
“That’s about it. I think you should settle out of court on the civil suit as well.”
“I can’t believe this.”
“A trial of any kind won’t be good for you or for the department. There’s too much bad press. If you decide not to settle, I’ll have to turn your case over to one of the other lawyers.”
Angel watched him finish his juice. He wiped his mouth with the napkin, but the orange stain remained. Angel decided not to tell him. She understood his dilemma but didn’t like his advice.
“Who would represent me?”
“One of the other lawyers from the firm. Um—everyone is pretty busy at the moment. I’ll have to check. I think I can have someone down here tomorrow.”
“Forget it.” Angel picked up her bag and pulled out her wallet. “I’ll find my own lawyer.”
“As a union member, you’re entitled to representation, but it’s your prerogative.”
She pulled a ten out of her wallet and set
it on the table. “I hope everything is okay with the ultrasound.”
“Angel, I’m sorry.”
“Hey, I understand. You guys are busy, so I’ll find someone who...” Someone who gives a rip. “Who’s local.” Angel smiled at him to show there were no hard feelings. “I need to get back to the hospital to see my dad. Can you find your way back to your car?”
“Sure. No problem. If you change your mind, give me a call.”
While she walked back to her car, she wondered at the wisdom of firing her lawyer. She’d have to use her own money to pay for one. Maybe Brandon would help—he’d told her he would the night of the shooting.
But things had changed radically since then.
On the way to the hospital, Angel called Janet’s office and made another appointment. She was surprised when the receptionist told her to come in that afternoon.
When she arrived back at the hospital, she found Brandon in the waiting room, talking to her brothers Peter and Paul, who had been at their resort in the Caribbean. She felt a rush of guilt when she realized she hadn’t called Brandon to tell him about her father.
Brandon flashed her a hurt look. “I came by to see your dad and see how you were doing.”
Angel found it hard to meet his eyes. “Thanks for coming.” Not certain what to say next, she turned to greet her brothers.
Peter set down his cup and captured her in an exuberant hug. Paul gave her shoulders a squeeze. Physically the twins were identical, but Angel never had trouble telling them apart. They were both tall, tan, and rich. Both were thirty-two years old, just under six feet, with thick dark hair and dark chocolate eyes. But Peter, the extrovert, acted as if he didn’t have a care in the world, while Paul worried too much—a little something he picked up from his mother. He was the introvert—analytical and detail oriented. Peter handled the public relations side of their business. Paul did all the accounting.
“What are you guys doing here? I thought you weren’t due back for another month.” She frowned. “Dad’s okay, isn’t he?”
“He’s okay—better in fact. We thought we should come home to give you some moral support.”
“Me?”
“Tim told us what’s been going on,” Paul said.
Angel stared at a dust bunny skittering across the polished floor. “And you two thought you’d come to my rescue?”
Peter handed her a cup of coffee. “Sounds like someone has to.”
“The truth is,” Paul said, “Mom told us if we didn’t haul ourselves out here, she’d come get us.”
“Yeah, like you were worried.” Angel grinned. Somehow being around Peter and Paul always raised her spirits. Being six years older and closest in age they were usually the ones who’d ended up baby-sitting her when she was little. “How’s the resort business going?” she asked.
The twins owned several resorts—in the Caribbean, France, and Mexico—all located on the most beautiful beaches in the world. Which accounted for their bronzed Mediterranean looks. Of course, being part Italian helped. They had recently built a new resort just a few miles north of Sunset Cove, their first venture in the Northwest. “How’s the Bay Village Resort doing?”
“Business is great,” Peter responded. “We’ve been having to turn people away, especially on the weekends.”
Paul nodded. “They like having another five-star resort in the area.”
Peter nudged her arm. “So when are you going to come see it?” he asked. “We’ll let you stay in one of our best suites.”
“That’s sweet, guys, but this isn’t a good time.”
“Seems to me it’s a perfect time.” Paul scrutinized her. “You can soak up some rays, swim, hot tub, play volleyball on the beach. Think about it, okay?”
“Okay.” Angel had to admit it sounded wonderful.
Brandon tossed his empty cup in the wastebasket, looking uncomfortable and unhappy at being left out.
She turned to him. “I’m glad you’re here. I need to talk to you about something.” Glancing back at her brothers, she said, “It’s private.”
They gave her a knowing look. “Maybe we should come along as chaperones,” Peter said with a grin.
“Not that kind of private.” She rolled her eyes at them and slipped her hand into the crook of Brandon’s arm.
“Want to go somewhere to eat?” Brandon asked. “I could use a sandwich.”
She didn’t mention seeing him at the restaurant. Apparently he’d left before finishing his meal. “I’ve eaten, but I can sit with you.”
They didn’t speak until they reached the elevator. “Why didn’t you tell me about your dad?” Brandon asked. “I shouldn’t have to read about something like that in the paper.”
“It all happened so fast. I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t tell me about your apartment either. Angel, we may have had a disagreement, but I still care about you.”
“There was nothing you could’ve done about the apartment. It happened. It’s over.”
“So what did you want to talk to me about?” Brandon held the elevator door open as she stepped inside.
“It’s the legal mud hole I seem to have fallen into,” she said. “I’ve been told the DA is going to bring charges against me, and that there’s going to be a civil suit.”
“I heard.” Brandon looked at the elevator buttons, then at the door.
Angel found a table and waited for Brandon to go through the cafeteria line. When he got to the table, she picked up the conversation where they’d left off. “I fired the lawyer the union sent to represent me.”
“Why?” He picked up his sandwich and took a bite.
“He wanted me to admit I was wrong. He said we should try for a lesser charge and settle with Billy’s family.”
“Maybe you should.” Brandon kept his eyes focused on his plate.
“No way.” She brushed some crumbs from the table. “That would mean losing my job and being sentenced and put on probation. What kind of settlement is that?” She went on to tell him about Randy’s personal situation.
“Can’t you get another union lawyer?”
“Yeah, but I’m not sure I want one. I thought maybe you could...” Something in his expression stopped her. “What?”
He glanced around the room, still not meeting her eyes. “I can’t. We’re too close. It would be unethical.”
“That didn’t seem to bother you the other night when you offered to help.”
He set his sandwich down and wiped his hands on a napkin. “You’re going to hear about it eventually anyway, so I might as well tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“I can’t represent you because it would be a conflict of interest.”
“I don’t see how. It’s not like we’re married or even engaged. We’re friends.”
Angel watched his Adam’s apple move up and down as he swallowed. He turned to look out the window. His gaze finally met hers but only briefly. “There’s no easy way to tell you this. Dad informed Carl and me about it this morning. I tried to talk him out of it, but he’s not budging.”
“Talk him out of what? What are you saying?”
He licked his lips. “Our firm is representing Ray Broadman in the civil suit against you.”
“Ray Broadman.” A lump the size of a soccer ball sat in the pit of her stomach. “That’s Billy’s uncle.”
“He’s filing on behalf of Billy’s mother.”
Angel rubbed her arms, hoping the friction of skin against fabric would warm her. She had felt adrift in Joe’s office; now she felt as if she was going down for the third time. One by one she felt the supports slip out from under her.
“I’m sorry.” Brandon reached for her hand.
Angel moved out of his reach, pulling together what little resources she had left. “I’m going up to see my dad.”
He got up and followed her out of the cafeteria. “Angel, wait!”
She swung around when he grabbed her arm. “I don’t think we have a
nything more to talk about.”
She pulled her arm out of his grasp and left him standing there. Beneath the anger, though, she felt sad. She understood that his father had put him in a no-win situation. That must’ve been what they were arguing about at the restaurant earlier. But the knowledge did little to ease the pain of betrayal.
When she got to the door of her father’s room, she hesitated and took a deep breath before going inside. “Hi, Dad. How’s it going?”
“I’d do better if I could get out of this place,” Frank grumbled.
“You need to stay a few more days. Hearts take time to heal.”
Hearts take time to heal. Angel wondered if hers ever would.
“I saw the news last night.” Frank scooted himself up in bed. “Those vultures just won’t let it go.”
“The press is always blowing things out of proportion. You know that.”
He nodded and closed his eyes. When he didn’t open them again and his breathing deepened, Angel kissed his cheek then whispered good-bye and left. Were you there, Dad? Did you shoot at Billy? Did you steal the evidence? No, she wouldn’t ask. Not now. Maybe never.
When she joined her brothers in the waiting room, she avoided their questioning gazes. “What happened to Brandon?” Peter asked.
“He had to go back to the office.” She dropped into the nearest chair. “Where’s Ma?”
“Tim took her down to the cafeteria.” Paul shook his head. “I don’t think she’s had anything decent to eat since she got here Monday night.”
Angel nodded. “Do you guys know a good lawyer?”
They eyed each other then turned their gazes back to her. “Didn’t the union provide one for you?”
“I fired him.”
“What about Brandon?” Paul asked.
“Brandon is sleeping with the enemy.” Angel went on to explain the situation.
“How could they do that to you?” Peter scowled.
“You can’t really blame Brandon, though,” Paul said, obviously trying to be rational. “He’d have to quit the firm in order to represent you. Besides, he’s not a criminal lawyer.”
“I’m not a criminal!”
“That’s beside the point, and you know it.”
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