[Kate Lange 01.0] Damaged

by Pamela Callow

  Detective Redding fished through his briefcase and pulled out a document. Kate recognized it as the statement she gave to police on Friday night. “You told Constable Drummond that you had an intruder at your house on Friday night?” This was the first time he had spoken and his voice was surprisingly deep and penetrating.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you see the intruder?”

  Kate shook her head. “No. He wore a hooded coat. It was long. His back was to me. He ran away before I could see his face.” But he hadn’t really run, Kate remembered. He had just…left. Gone out through the gate. Same way he had come in.

  Detective Ferguson leaned back in her chair. “Quite a day, you had, Ms. Lange. You chase away an intruder—not recommended, by the way, you should call the police—and earlier that evening you meet with the grandmother of a girl who is murdered only a few days later.”

  “I know.”

  “That’s quite a coincidence.”

  “Yes.” But there was no explanation for it. She just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  Detective Redding closed his portfolio and clicked his pen. The interview was over. “If you remember anything else that may help us in our investigation, here’s my number.” Detective Ferguson sized her up one final time before giving Kate her card. “And keep your doors locked, Ms. Lange. Until we determine whether your intruder and Lisa’s murderer are linked, you could be at risk.” With those parting words, the detectives left.

  Kate closed the door and sank in her chair. Her mind was going in circles. The meeting had been fruitless for both sides. Neither had gleaned anything more.

  She just needed to know one thing.

  Had Lisa suffered?

  She’d hoped the detectives would give her a hint. But they were too experienced to give anything away that would jeopardize their investigation.

  Her mind scrabbled for the only other option. Would Ethan take pity on her and tell her if she called him?

  He hadn’t called to warn her about the police detectives coming. He hadn’t tried to warn her that there could be a link between the intruder and the murderer.

  She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her temples.

  Chapter 15

  Thursday, May 3, 4:00 p.m.

  “This is not the way we do things at LMB,” Randall said. He flipped open the file Kate passed him. His handwriting jumped out at him. Marian MacAdam. He’d had no idea when he took her call what chaos that unassuming name would wreak. Damn, why hadn’t he remembered she was Hope Carson’s mother-in-law?

  He skimmed Kate’s notes, noting her even, scrawling hand, feeling her stiff presence across from him. She’d given him the file with a flash of defiance and anger. It diverted him for a moment from other, more telling, signs. She looked a little worse for wear. Her usually luminous skin was marred by dark shadows under her eyes. But it was the expression in her amber gaze that warned him. As if she was ready for his attack and wouldn’t let him see how much it hurt.

  He tried a different approach. “I realize I referred Mrs. MacAdam to you, but she did not inform me of her relationship to Judge Carson.”

  “I wondered that,” Kate said. Her tone was as stiff as her back. “But it didn’t matter. It would have been difficult for her to proceed with a custody application. She didn’t have much going for her.”

  “I see.” He paused for a moment, finding himself strangely unsure of how to proceed with her. He brushed a hand over his hair. “Look, Kate, I believe you gave Mrs. MacAdam the appropriate advice—” She glanced away. She doesn’t think she did. He filed that knowledge away. “—but you failed in your duty to the firm. You should have come to me and told me about the delicate nature of this case.”

  She straightened her back. Met his gaze head-on. A direct, clear gaze that seemed to look into him. Which was distinctly unnerving.

  “As far as I was concerned, there was no case.”

  Unrepentant.

  He fought to hide his response to that. She needed to understand that she was part of a team now. A team that was only as strong as its weakest link. He couldn’t indulge her defiance. “It doesn’t matter what you believed.” His subtle emphasis of the word you was noted by the tensing of her shoulders. He relaxed a little. He could get under her skin just like her gaze seemed to get under his. “You are operating in one of Halifax’s best firms. You are no longer in a two-person practice. You need to be cognizant of the firm’s reputation.”

  “Trust me, I was very concerned about it.” He thought he glimpsed self-loathing in her eyes. She dropped her gaze. When she raised her eyes again they gleamed with a fierce determination. Kate was not going to let him see how upset the MacAdam case made her. She probably believed he’d think she was weak.

  He’d have to work at it to make her crack.

  He softened his tone. “Why didn’t you come to me, Kate? I referred Marian MacAdam to you.”

  She lifted her chin. “It didn’t seem there was anything to report.” What she didn’t say, but he’d seen it in a flash of her eyes, was that he’d be the last man on earth she’d come to for advice.

  Hurt—unexpected and unwelcome—stabbed him. It startled him, threw him off his stride. Making his next words harsher than he intended. “You mean the fact that you had a client who was concerned her granddaughter was endangering herself and you didn’t think that was worth reporting? If not to me, then to Child Protection?”

  She paled. “She told me that she had no proof.”

  “Did you tell her Child Protection could get it for her?”

  “Yes.” Her voice sank to a whisper. “Yes. I did.”

  “Then why didn’t you call them?”

  “I wasn’t sure I should.” She looked through his window. But her gaze was inward. Searching her soul.

  He waited. He needed to know why she’d made this decision. He had an obligation to the firm to test her on her professional abilities.

  Finally she said, “She wanted to keep the matter private. She was concerned that Lisa wouldn’t want to live with her if she notified the authorities…”

  “But, Kate, if the girl was endangering herself, you had a legal obligation to report it!”

  “I know!” Her eyes blazed at him. “Don’t you think I know that?” Her tone changed abruptly. “The only behavior that Mrs. MacAdam could point to was that Lisa wasn’t showing up for supper on time. Hardly out of the ordinary for a teenager.”

  “Do you think she was telling the truth?”

  She glanced away. “I couldn’t tell. When I informed her about my duty to report to Child Protection, she became upset. And I wondered if that influenced the rest of the meeting. I wondered if she was holding back.”

  “So much so that you changed your mind and reported your concerns to the police yesterday?”

  “How did you know that?” She stared at him, shock carving hollows under her cheekbones.

  “Child Protection told me.” He’d been just as shocked. It had taken all of his skill to keep it out of his voice and assure them that he had every confidence in his new associate Ms. Lange.

  She drew back in her chair. “They called you?”

  “Yes. They are investigating whether you met your statutory obligations. Apparently Mrs. MacAdam hadn’t given you the same version as she gave the police.” His eyes drilled into hers.

  “Oh, my God.” She became so pale that he almost got out of his chair to steady her. He forced his pity down. She was in an unenviable position. Heartrending. But years of experience had taught him that the moment when his emotions were most likely to erupt was precisely the time they needed to be held firmly in check. He could not let her see how profoundly sorry he felt for her. The firm’s reputation depended on his ability to judge her objectively. But it was obvious that this latest piece of information was news to her. It would appear that she’d been screwed by her client.

  She straightened that steel spine of hers and said, chin up, “So what d
id you tell them?”

  That’s my girl. Fight back. The thought flashed through his mind, unnerving him. Again. “That I was going to speak with you and phone them afterward.”

  “I see.” Her eyes searched his face. After a long pause, she asked quietly, “What are you going to tell them?”

  What his gut had been telling him all along. “That you acted appropriately.” He finally let her see the sympathy he’d been holding in check.

  There was a slight loosening of her shoulders.

  “Kate, they may want to have an independent opinion.”

  “I understand.”

  “But I think, in terms of your client, you did the right thing.”

  Tears suddenly welled in her eyes. He had an uncontrollable urge to give her comfort. Put a hand on her shoulder. Draw her to him. Feel her damp eyelashes on his skin.

  Jesus. What was wrong with him? He drew back in his chair.

  She looked away. “Thank you.” She rose from her seat.

  He couldn’t help himself. He lifted a hand. “I’m not done yet.”

  She sank back to her seat, averting her gaze until her eyes were dry. Relief brought a tinge of color back to her cheeks. It was clear to him that she’d been suffering all week.

  He knew why the suffering would be so acute.

  She didn’t know this—and he would never tell her—but he knew all about her sister. And her father. He’d been the inadvertent witness to her life story. His mother had been the manager of the bank her father had defrauded.

  That knowledge had given him all the more reason to resist John Lyons’ desire to hire Kate. That, and the fact he sensed John Lyons had more than just a mentor’s interest in his new hire. He studied Kate. Was there anything going on? She’d worked hard to rise above her past. He admired her for that. More than he would ever let her know. But his admiration would corrode in a heartbeat if she allowed herself to be seduced by John Lyons. She ought to know—after all, didn’t everyone know? His lips twisted bitterly—how he would feel about an affair in his firm.

  She watched him with an expectant look on her face. There was a small light in her eyes that hadn’t been there earlier. He hated to crush it, but he had an obligation to the firm. “Judge Carson is now calling us and demanding to know why her mother-in-law was seeking legal advice behind her back just days before her daughter was murdered.” He paused. “She’s furious that you called the police about Lisa’s disappearance.”

  “How did she know that?” Did Ethan tell her? Blood rushed to her cheeks.

  “Apparently your client admitted it.”

  Kate stared at him. Marian had betrayed her. But then she thought of the elderly matriarch squaring off with her daughter-in-law and she knew she couldn’t blame Marian. “I’m sure Judge Carson wrung it out of her.”

  “And she’s trying to wring it out of us, too.”

  Kate inhaled. “She would know that we couldn’t divulge anything.”

  “Her daughter’s dead, Kate,” he said gently. “She finds out from the police that her mother-in-law is sneaking around, trying to get custody of her daughter, and three nights later her daughter is murdered and dismembered. I think most people would want answers.”

  “Especially if they feel they are to blame.” The minute she uttered the words, he could tell she knew it was the wrong thing to say. She added, “I only meant that there was some suggestion by Lisa’s grandmother that Judge Carson was not involved enough in her daughter’s life. That Judge Carson might feel guilty about this.”

  Did Hope feel guilty? She’d never seemed dogged by life’s reproaches. But this wasn’t a reproach. This was a full-out assault. And she seemed to be reeling under it. “She’s making up for it now,” he said. “She may not have been involved when her daughter was alive, but she sure as hell is involved now that her daughter is dead.” He paused. “Kate, I have to warn you, Judge Carson is out for your blood. By calling the police before she did, you showed her up.”

  “I was worried about Lisa.”

  “I know. But your action underlined her inaction.”

  Her eyes searched his. They were so translucent. If he stared into them long enough, what would he find? “What do I do about this?” she asked quietly.

  She was asking for advice. He had managed to break through at least one line of defense. Unexpectedly, he wanted her to trust him. “There’s not much you can do unless Mrs. MacAdam comes back, seeking advice. Keep me in the loop this time.”

  “I will.” She shifted on her chair. She wanted to leave. He could sense that. But he couldn’t let her leave until she understood that he was, as of this moment, on her side.

  He walked around his desk and leaned against it. “Kate, you were put in a very difficult situation, partly through my own oversight. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s okay.” She stood hurriedly, and then bent over to pick up her notepad. Her skirt tightened smoothly against her buttocks.

  His nerves leaped in response. He pulled his gaze up to her averted face. She turned to go. “You know, I didn’t come from the silver spoon background that most people believe.”

  That stopped her in her tracks. Whether it was the intimacy of his tone or the information he revealed, he could tell he’d thrown her for a loop. A softer, kinder Randall? she was probably thinking in amazement. He took advantage of her confusion and added deliberately, “I never knew my father.” She froze. “My mother worked her way up through a bank. She made me read Shakespeare,” he added, to see if she would smile. She did. Slightly. It urged him on. “I won a scholarship to Hollis U, then to Harvard Law School. I think you know the rest.”

  “Yes. You have had an impressive career.” She put a hand on the doorknob and looked back over her shoulder. “I want one, too.”

  He took in her steady, clear gaze. “I believe you will, Kate. You’ve made it this far. Try not to make enemies.” On impulse, he shared his own code. “If you do, take no prisoners.”

  She gave him one final, impenetrable look. Then she left.

  He stared at the spot where she had stood. Kate Lange could well become a fine lawyer.

  As long as she stayed out of trouble.

  And between Lisa MacAdam’s murder, Child Protection Services’ investigation and Judge Carson’s wrath, that seemed unlikely.

  * * *

  What the hell happened in there?

  Kate walked back to her office, completely confused. When she first sat down in front of Randall Barrett’s desk, she’d felt as if she was back at elementary school, perched on the edge of a hard wooden chair in the principal’s office, being told by a censorious Mr. Ginley that young ladies did not put snowballs down the boys’ pants.

  Except Randall Barrett was nothing like Mr. Ginley. Her former principal had been fiftyish, balding, portly and reeked of aftershave.

  Randall Barrett was none of these things. As every warm-blooded female in Halifax was only too aware. He’d been a coup for LMB when he joined the partnership. He had been brilliant in law school, graduating top of his class from Harvard. The Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Canada had handpicked him to be his articled clerk. After being admitted to the bar, he had litigated the big securities cases on Bay Street. Until his star was suddenly eclipsed by his divorce. He returned to Halifax.

  He’d probably thought he was leaving it behind him in Toronto, but the scandal rags of Halifax couldn’t resist sinking their teeth into a prime catch like Randall Barrett. His impressive net worth was gleefully dissected along with a profile of his adulterous wife. She had blamed her affair with another lawyer in her Toronto firm on her husband’s overriding work ethic. Kate figured his ex-wife must have had serious grounds for her complaint. Because, for the life of her, she couldn’t see why any woman married to Randall Barrett would seek sexual satisfaction elsewhere. He reeked of virility.

  Even in her state of shock, or perhaps because of it, his proximity pounded at her reserves. And she hated that.

  When she
was summoned to Randall’s office, she was convinced she was about to be fired. No firm, especially one with the kind of rep that LMB had, liked to have a lawyer whose cases resulted in probes by the police and Child Protection Services. She’d gone into Randall’s office on the defensive, not willing to let him see how desperately she needed someone—him, her boss, the firm’s managing partner, one of Halifax’s best legal minds—to acquit her conscience.

  The glimpse of sympathy in his gaze at the end of their meeting had almost been her undoing. It had been a split second, a look that passed between the two of them and left her reeling. Stunned. Disgusted with what she’d wanted to do.

  She’d wanted to bury her face in his shirt, inhale its crisp cotton, feel her tears dampen and warm the tension between them. She knew that he would give her that comfort.

  And more.

  She had seen it in his eyes. The brilliant blue had taken on an intensity, charged with heat, edged with fire.

  What the hell is the matter with you? She strode down the hallway to her office, her thoughts furious, jumbled. He’s the managing partner for God’s sake. You don’t screw your boss. You’d be committing career suicide—not to mention emotional hara-kiri—in one single leap.

  She stalked through her doorway and shut the door. He doesn’t even like you.

  That stung. And what about Ethan?

  She stared through the window. She had no answer to that.

  Disgust mushroomed in her chest. She was yearning for the comfort of Randall Barrett to absolve her of her mistakes, knowing that if she had only acted differently a girl might not have died.

  And in such a horrible, grotesque manner.

  How could she live with that? She sank into her office chair and lowered her face in her hands.

  She knew in that place deep inside her where hard truths could not be eroded by a sympathy-laden glance that she’d made a terrible mistake.