Marc Kadella Legal Mysteries Vol 1-6 (Marc Kadella Series)

by Dennis Carstens

  “He’ll be there next Monday. I just got off the phone with him and the trial he testified at finished late yesterday.”

  “Great, thanks, Jason,” Marc said.

  “He’s excellent, Marc. A bit eccentric but juries take to him.”

  Mackenzie was watching him with an inquisitive expression. Marc lowered the phone away from his mouth and said, “Good news.”

  “What? Who are you talking to?” the caller asked.

  “My client,” Marc said into the phone. “We’re at the cemetery right now. They’re hooking up the casket to pull it out.”

  “Ghastly business. Well, if you need anything else, let me know,” Jason said.

  “I will and thanks again, Jason. I’ll be in touch,” Marc said.

  While Marc put the phone back in his pants’ pocket Mackenzie asked, “Who was that?”

  “His name is Jason Briggs and he’s a criminalist I have used in the past. He’s like a private CSI guy. Very good, very professional. He’s sending an independent pathologist to watch the autopsy and do our own toxicology tests. He’s not cheap, but…”

  “If you think we need him, money isn’t a problem,” Mackenzie said.

  “We need him,” Marc said.

  “Then don’t worry about it.”

  “Wait here and do not talk to the media. I’ll be right back.”

  “No chance, buster. I’m coming with you.”

  They walked over to where Heather and the detectives were standing.

  “I told you I was getting a pathologist to observe the autopsy. He’ll be here on Monday,” Marc told Heather.

  “We don’t want to wait that long,” she replied.

  “Tough shit. You’ve waited this long, a few more days won’t matter,” Marc responded, obviously annoyed.

  Heather looked at the casket which was out of the hole and being swept to remove the dirt. Standing next to it was a bald man in a white coat supervising.

  “Hey, Alfredo!” Heather called out to the man. He turned to look and Heather waved him over.

  She introduced the man to Marc as Dr. Alfredo Nunez, the Ramsey County Medical Examiner. They shook hands and Marc explained to the doctor that he hired a pathologist to observe the autopsy.

  “Who?” Nunez asked.

  “Dr. Oscar Johnson,” Marc said.

  “Oh, good,” Nunez sincerely said. “I know Oscar. He’s a good guy. Very good pathologist. When will he be here?”

  “I just found out he can’t make it till Monday.”

  “No problem,” Nunez said. “We’ll get to it first thing next week. In fact, I’ll give him a call when I get back to the office and set it up.”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  The hand clamped down on Mackenzie’s mouth muffling her screams of protest. She tried raising her hands to ward off her attacker; to no avail. Her arms and legs were pinned down, completely immobilizing her. Mackenzie tried to look at the face of the man who straddled her abdomen, but it was too dark to see it. She tried to struggle to free herself, but her head wouldn’t move, her arms felt like concrete and her legs were devoid of feeling as if they were gone.

  Using all of her willpower, strength and determination Mackenzie put forth one last, final, massive effort to break fee. In an instant, it was over and she found herself sitting up in her bed, gasping for air. The comforter and sheet were on the floor where she had thrown them. The dream was gone and she was alone in her bedroom.

  Mackenzie reached behind herself and propped up two pillows on the bed’s headboard. She retrieved the plastic bottle of water from the nightstand then leaned back against the pillows. By this time her breathing had normalized and her mind had cleared. She sipped the water and the thought about the dream.

  “Where the hell did that come from?” She quietly said to herself comforted by the fact it was only a bad dream.

  She glanced at the alarm clock next to the bed which read 6:27. Normally she would have stayed in bed until 7:00 but the dream had frightened her awake. Might as well get up, she thought.

  Ten minutes later she was sipping her first cup of coffee at the breakfast bar. Having dismissed the dream, she again found herself thinking about Marc. Wondering if it was possible that, after everything she had been through and done, could she have a normal life, a normal relationship? The life she had led was so far outside the scope of “normal” Mackenzie wasn’t sure if she could even recognize what normal would be.

  It was the Tuesday morning after Labor Day. Summer was unofficially over even though the day’s weather promised to be gorgeous.

  The two of them had taken off early Friday morning to spend a quiet weekend together. Four days in a four-star resort on the North Shore of Lake Superior. The first real getaway with someone she may actually be in love with since…

  “I can’t remember if I’ve ever done that before,” Mackenzie softly said to herself.

  While she poured herself a second cup she looked at her phone. It was still set in the charger; exactly where she had placed it Thursday night. Mackenzie picked up the phone and carried it back to the breakfast bar. She took a minute to scan through the calls and messages, deleting the ones she would not bother with.

  She saw four calls from Cooper Thomas, the lawyer who handled the estate and sale of the business for her.

  Cooper had made no effort to hide his feelings for her. Since the funeral and the confrontation in his office with the Sutherland children, he had called at least once a week. Because of his knowledge of Bill Sutherland’s Will and the business sale, Mackenzie believed she had little choice but to string him along for now.

  It was too early to call him at his office. Mackenzie had his personal cell number and she thought about calling him on it at home. Getting him in hot water with his wife would serve him right, she thought with a bit of an evil grin.

  She decided to wait a while to call him. Maybe a discreet lunch meeting would keep him calmed down. Instead, Mackenzie hurried upstairs, changed into her workout clothes and headed to the Life Time Fitness club on Ford Parkway.

  Two hours later she was back home standing in the shower letting the hot water pound on her sore muscles. Mackenzie had overdone the workout a bit and would be a little sore later because of it.

  After showering, Mackenzie sat at her bedroom vanity wrapped in her bathrobe. She held her phone in one hand, looked at the number to call, took a deep breath and pressed the call indicator.

  “Cooper Thomas,” she heard him say.

  “Cooper, it’s Mackenzie. How are you, dear?” she asked.

  “Fine,” he said with clear delight. “Thank you for calling. I’m sorry I called so many times but my wife was out of town and I hoped we might get together.”

  “I’m sorry. I was out of town,” she answered him. Mackenzie knew he was dying to ask who she was with. It was none of his business and as a way of exhibiting control, she was determined not to tell him. “We should meet for lunch.”

  “Yes, lunch. When and where?” he quickly agreed.

  “There’s a place at the Mall of America. It’s called the Cadillac Ranch. It’s on the south side, third floor. I want to go somewhere that we can hide in the crowd. I still need to keep a low profile. You understand, don’t you?”

  “Certainly, Mackenzie. I’ll call and make a reservation in my secretary’s name. I’ll see you at noon.”

  A half hour later she was downstairs and checking her burner phone for calls. She had received one on Friday afternoon from area code 727 which she recognized as St. Petersburg, Florida. A feeling of dread came over her. Was she about to have a repeat of Milwaukee, she wondered. She listened to the innocuous message then, not one to put off potentially bad news, she quickly re-dialed the number to find out what the man wanted.

  “Ernie Harper,” Mackenzie heard the man say.

  “Mr. Harper,” she said, “this is Donna Bauer. You left a message on Friday. Sorry, I’ve been gone all weekend.”

  “That’s okay, Mrs. Bauer. I got
some news for you I thought you’d want,” Harper answered her.

  Ernesto Harper was the son of a Cuban mother and Anglo father. He was a private investigator working in the Tampa-St. Pete area. Basically, he was doing the same thing as Lou Travis in Chicago and the late Byron Stewart in Milwaukee. He was keeping an eye on Mackenzie’s dead husband’s children and ex-wife.

  “I have it from various reliable sources that your former stepson, David, got his hands on his mother’s money, invested it in various things and lost every dime,” Harper said.

  “Are you sure?” Mackenzie asked suppressing her glee.

  “Yes, ma’am. It’s solid. That’s not all. This dummy tried to get it back by going into the drug trade. He was busted in a sting trying to broker a deal for fifty kilos of cocaine.”

  “When?”

  “Thursday night. I did some checking with a DEA guy I know. They think the bust is solid and little David is sitting in jail unable to make bail. His partners are Cubans and DEA is trying to get him to flip on them. So far, he isn’t cooperating which is probably good. These Cuban guys would kill him if he did,” Harper told her.

  Mackenzie remained quiet for almost thirty seconds taking in the news. The fact that her former husband’s idiot son, David, had blown his mother’s divorce settlement was the best news. But the drug bust almost made her laugh.

  “Are you still there?” Ernie asked.

  “Yes, yes,” she said. “Sorry. I was just thinking. Wow! David Bauer. I’m a little surprised, but not entirely. They spoiled him rotten. Anything else?”

  “No, ma’am. That’s it for now. I’ll keep an eye on it for you. Do you want me to do anything else?”

  “No, Ernesto, thank you and I’ll send you some money this week for sure,” Mackenzie said.

  The call ended and Mackenzie spent the next five minutes walking around the living room, alternately laughing and shaking her head.

  Mackenzie parked her Beamer in the East ramp at the big mall. This was only the second time she had been here and when she got inside the size and scope of the place still amazed her. Mackenzie’s number one thought upon entering the place was how thankful she was that she could afford to shop elsewhere. While she made her way to the restaurant, she was delighted to see that with the exception of a couple of admiring males, no one paid the slightest bit of attention to her.

  Mackenzie stood in the entryway and looked over the restaurant’s crowd. Before the hostess had a chance to speak to her, she spotted Cooper at a table along the wall.

  “Thank you,” Mackenzie said to him as he held the chair for her.

  Cooper sat down opposite her, reached across the table to take her hand and said, “I’m very happy to see you.”

  “So am I,” Mackenzie lied with a slight smile. “But we have to be very careful. This whole thing is such a dark cloud hanging over me.”

  Cooper let go of her hand, crossed his arms, leaned on the table and whispered, “A lawyer from the Ramsey County attorney’s office called just before I left to come here.”

  “Really? Who?” Mackenzie calmly asked.

  “A woman. She said her name was Heather Anderson.”

  “What did she want?”

  “She asked me about William’s Will and the sale of the company,” Cooper replied.

  “And what did you say?”

  “I told her that was privileged information and refused to answer her questions. I reminded her I submitted an affidavit swearing the new Will was Bill’s idea. Then I told her I was not at liberty to discuss any other matters with her. She makes me nervous, though.”

  “Why? Relax, she’s fishing. Whatever happens, I have complete confidence in Marc Kadella to handle it,” Mackenzie said.

  “Are you sleeping with him?” Cooper abruptly asked.

  Mackenzie leaned forward, looked him in the eye and said, “That would be unethical from what I understand.”

  Cooper opened his mouth to speak and ask another question then thought better of it. She did not say no, she wasn’t sleeping with Marc and Cooper decided he did not want to know anyway.

  The two of them made a little small talk while they ate, mostly about the gossip surrounding Mackenzie. Cooper had been calling her once or twice a week ever since the meeting with the Sutherland kids in his office. Without expressly stating it, he made it obvious he was totally smitten by her. For her part, until the legal issues hanging over her head were resolved, Mackenzie would keep him on a string. The problem for her was that the longer it went on and the more he mooned over her like a lovesick puppy, the less respect she had for him.

  When the waiter had cleared their empty dishes and left, Cooper started in again.

  “I can’t help it, this woman from Ramsey County worries me,” he said.

  “For God’s sake, act like a man, Cooper!” Mackenzie ripped into him.

  Being so abruptly chastised by her, the sensitive lawyer had the look of a hurt puppy on his face. He seemed on the verge of tears.

  Realizing she had gone a little too far, she calmly said, “I’m sorry, Cooper. I shouldn’t have been so sharp with you.” She patted his hand and continued, “There’s nothing going on. Besides, you’re a lawyer. Attorney-client privilege precludes you from even being questioned by them. It’s Paige Sutherland. I’ll bet she calls her lawyer every day and he calls the county attorney. Her case is about to be thrown out of court.”

  The touch of her hand on his was enough to make his heart skip and calm him down. He reached over with his other hand and held hers in both of his.

  “Be a little patient, my dear,” Mackenzie said with a sincere smile. “It will be over before you know it.”

  “When do you go to court on Paige’s lawsuit?”

  Mackenzie leaned back and pulled her hand out of his grasp. “Day after tomorrow. Connie is pretty confident the judge will dismiss it.”

  “I wish you had let me handle it for you,” he said.

  “Better we keep a little distance,” Mackenzie reminded him. And I wanted a lawyer who wouldn’t wet himself at the sight of a courtroom, she thought.

  TWENTY- SIX

  Connie Mickelson barely waited for the elevator doors to open before elbowing her way through the crowd. Connie was in her mid-sixties; an old school feminist who did not wait for anyone or anything. Her attitude had always been: if you want something, get off your ass, roll-up your sleeves and earn it. Connie made her own way in life.

  She turned to her left towards the courtroom of Judge Farley. Connie noticed Simon Kane and Paige standing together along one wall opposite the courtroom doors. Looking at Connie with a relieved half smile was her client, Mackenzie Sutherland.

  “I told you that you didn’t have to be here for this,” Connie said to her.

  “I decided to come anyway,” Mackenzie replied as she watched a casually dressed young man walking toward them.

  Connie turned her head toward the young man very slightly, nodded at him and discreetly pointed a finger at Simon Kane.

  Mackenzie noticed this and whispered “Connie, what’s going on?”

  “Watch,” Connie told her trying not to smile. “Watch Kane and Paige.”

  The young man walked up to Simon Kane and said something that Connie and Mackenzie could not hear. While nodding his head, Simon said something in reply. The process server handed him a letter size manila envelope and without another word, turned and walked back to the elevators.

  “What is that?” Mackenzie asked.

  “Sssssh, watch,” Connie said.

  While the two women watched him and with Paige looking over his shoulder, Kane removed the contents of the envelope. With his lips moving, Kane began reading the document. His eyes widened, his lips moved faster and his hands began to tremble.

  Connie and Mackenzie continued to watch and they heard Paige ask him what was in the document. He ignored her and after roughly fifteen seconds the color completely drained from his face. Kane stopped reading and after quickly flipping
through the remaining pages, held the document at his side and looked up at the hallway ceiling.

  Barely able to contain her laughter Connie walked over to him while Paige repeated her question to find out what was in the document.

  “Why, Simon,” Connie said when she reached him. “You look like someone just walked over your grave. Are you all right?”

  Gathering himself he held up the document and angrily asked Connie, “What do you know about this?”

  “Me?” Connie innocently asked. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “I don’t believe you,” he snarled.

  “Well, Simon, I’ll say this,” Connie said. She tapped the pages with an index finger and continued. “This will be Defense Exhibit A if this case goes to trial. We’ll use it to refute the claim that the poor, suffering widow is destitute without the companionship of her late husband.”

  “Why you bitch! If you were a man I’d punch you,” he almost yelled.

  Connie laughed and replied, “Simon, if you were a man, you could.”

  At that moment a court deputy unlocked the courtroom door. Connie said, “See you inside,” turned and led Mackenzie inside.

  “What is going on?” Mackenzie tried to ask as they walked up to the gate.

  “I’ll tell you later,” Connie said.

  The two women took the table to the left facing the judge’s bench. It was almost two minutes before Kane and Paige followed them in. As they passed through the gate Connie turned her head enough to peek at them. Kane still looked like he had seen a ghost but Paige glared at her. Kane must have told her what he had received and if Paige had a gun, Connie and Mackenzie would be in serious trouble. Of course, the look on Paige’s face caused Connie to smile and wink at her knowing it would twist the figurative knife she had stabbed her with a little deeper.

  “All rise,” the deputy intoned the traditional order to commence court. Judge Farley came out, took his seat and told the four of them, the only ones in the courtroom, to be seated. His clerk was to his left and the court reporter set up his equipment in front of the judge. The clerk read the case information into the record and the lawyers identified themselves.