He had been to see Kathryn that morning. She’d been sleeping, and hadn’t awakened while her mother went to the cafeteria for breakfast. Helen Ellis still refused to leave her daughter overnight. She slept on a cramped cot beside her bed.
When Helen came back, Hugh left, disappointed that he’d had no opportunity to talk to Kathryn. Still, her color was improving. The bandage around her head was gone. He allowed himself to believe she was going to get well.
At three that afternoon, he’d met with Sarah Knight in his office at Goldstein, Miller. She had flown in from D.C. to discuss what came next for him.
“I’ve been in negotiations with Travis Davidson since you retained me, and I haven’t made much headway.”
Hugh looked into her large, dark eyes and saw sympathy for his plight. Her cell phone rang, and she exchanged a few words with her husband, Jim Mitchell, the FBI agent, who had helped her crack the Alexa Reed murder case and save Alexa’s life. He heard love and genuine passion in her voice, and felt bereft. Why couldn’t he have these things, too? Because you’ve been a shallow, self-absorbed bastard since you started winning lawsuits, a voice inside reminded him.
“Sorry. That was my husband. He’s here on business, too; and we’re deciding on time and place for dinner. At any rate, Davidson won’t budge off requiring you to plead to two felony counts for a sentence of three years.”
“God, no! I’m not going to be able to stand prison for three years. I’ll offer to plead to one count of obstruction, sentence fifteen months.”
“That’s going to be a hard sell. But you know that. I’ve got an appointment with Davidson in the morning. I’ll try.”
Now, sitting under the bright stars in the chilly air with the soft sound of the ocean to calm him, Hugh grimly considered his future. It wasn’t the money. He had plenty of that. But he had worked his way up from being a nobody to being one of the biggest somebodies in the game. The horror for him was being a convicted felon, and being demoted to a position even lower than the one he started from. He could work his way back from being a nobody. But there was no comeback from being convicted of a crime that involved lying to a court. He felt empty inside. His legal career was finished. He was deeply and thoroughly in love with a woman who regarded him only as a good friend. And, both personally and professionally, his heart was shattered into a thousand pieces and could never be mended.
At that moment, he saw a shadow behind one of the morning glory planters. As his eyes focused in the dim light, he realized a man was hiding there. He was dressed entirely in black and had a ski mask pulled over his face. So this was how he was going to die. Buffy had tried again, and this time she would succeed. Well, he had nothing left to live for, anyway. She was doing him a favor.
The dark figure emerged into the dim light and pulled off the mask. Okay, so he wants me to see his face before he kills me. Hugh saw the shoulder holster bulging under the man’s black sweater. Why didn’t he have the gun out?
“Hugh Mahoney?” an Irish accent made his name sound all the more authentic.
“Let’s get it over with.”
“I haven’t come to kill you. I’ve come to tell you who blew up Kathryn Andrews’ house.”
* * *
Thirty minutes later, Hugh and Sean Boyle were sitting in Hugh’s kitchen. Sean had showered in one of the guest baths and changed into one of Hugh’s too-big sweat suits. Hugh was watching him devour an enormous plate of bacon and eggs that Hugh had managed to cobble together without summoning Maria.
“I’ve been on the run since we did the job,” Sean explained. “I haven’t had any real food in six days.”
“How’d you get by?”
“Lived off what I could find. I’m a trained special ops commando. When I left the army in Ireland I started picking up side jobs.”
“Like Kathryn’s cottage? How much courage does it take to blow up a defenseless woman’s house?”
“Okay, okay. Calm down. I understand. I was told she wouldn’t be there.”
“Then why did the explosives go off when she was obviously home sleeping?”
“Look, there were three of us on the job. An American was the leader, a guy named Ed Parker. Used to be a Navy Seal. Seals kicked him out for beating a man nearly to death in a bar fight.
“Me and the other guy, Jeff Griggs, another American, set the charges to go off at ten the next morning when we thought she’d be out of the house. But Parker overrode everything we did after we finished.”
“Who hired you?”
“Hal Edwards.”
“Not Wycliffe?”
“Nope. The president himself put out a call to our organization, and we three agreed for a million apiece.”
“Then why are you sitting in my kitchen ratting out Edwards?”
“Because unbeknownst to me and Jeff, Ed was tasked with taking me and Jeff out after the job.”
“And is he still after you two?”
“No. Jeff and I took care of him. But then we split up because we knew Edwards had double crossed us, and he’d send more guys after us to make sure we didn’t talk.”
“And I gather you got no money?”
“Not a penny.”
“So why did you come to me?”
“Because the only way I’m going to stay alive is if I turn myself in and negotiate a deal. You have the biggest stake in bringing down the president.”
“But you can’t prove it was Edwards.”
“Oh, yes, I can. I never take a job without meeting directly with the client while I’m wearing a wire. Listen.” Sean Brady pulled out his cell phone, opened an app, and Hugh heard Hal Edward’s familiar baritone detailing what he wanted.
“Can you send me a copy of that?”
“Absolutely. It’s going to your inbox right now.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
Thursday afternoon, April 23, 2015, 1845 Ocean Place, Pacific Beach
Mark drew up to the curb and parked. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked Kathryn.
She thought of that first night when he had driven her to Petco Park in the rain after dinner at Bice. Over the last two weeks, he’d been to see her at the hospital every day, and she’d come to realize that first evening had never been a strictly business occasion. She’d asked him to bring her here today for one last look. Tonight she would stay with Amanda, and tomorrow he would put her on a plane to Miami where her mother and Graham had gone ahead to arrange a room for her in their condo.
“I’m sure.” But she wasn’t completely.
He came around and opened the door for her, and helped her out. She was still a little unsteady on her feet. She leaned on him as she stared at the destruction.
Where the little blue cottage had stood with the delicate white roses around the red door was nothing but a sea of ash. The burnt-out hulls of Tom’s Jeep in the garage and her Mini in the driveway completed the loss of all her earthly possessions.
She stared in silence for a few minutes. Finally she whispered, “There’s really nothing left.”
Mark gave her a reassuring hug. “I know. I started the ball rolling with the insurance company for you. You’ll have plenty of money to rebuild when you’re ready.”
But she remained silent. She left the sidewalk and moved unsteadily toward the blacked rectangle of ash. As she went, she recalled each memory: the day she and Tom had seen the cottage for the first time, the day it had become theirs, the day they’d planted the roses, the crib in the nursery, their vegetable garden, their bedroom, the mismatched chairs in the kitchen, all the parties they’d given. Most of all, she remembered leaving the little house behind as she’d driven Tom to the hospital on that last desperate trip to save his life.
“It’s all gone,” she repeated softly as if trying to make herself believe what she was seeing. This was a new life, she realized. Her past with Tom had burned up in the early morning hours of April 9.
Mark had followed her as she walked toward the ashes. He put his arm ar
ound her sympathetically and repeated, “You’ll have plenty of money to rebuild.”
But she shook her head. “No, I want you to arrange for the sale of the lot. I couldn’t put another house here and live in it. This place belonged to Tom and to me, and now I finally understand that’s over.”
“Does that mean you aren’t coming back from Miami?”
She kept staring at the black dust. “I’m sure I can find a job there.”
“I want you to come back,” he said.
Slowly she turned to meet his eyes. There was that familiar feeling as if she were melting inside. Could she ever trust anyone again? Then she heard Tom’s voice in her head. “Yes, you can. He understands, Kathryn. You heard that in his closing arguments. You’re safe with him. He understands.”
She smiled up at him. “I’ll think about it. That’s why I need to go away for a while. To see how it feels. To think about what kind of future I want now that I’m not waiting for Tom to come back.”
The thought of not seeing her again made Mark’s heart hurt. But he had always known that was a possibility. He took both of her hands. “I wasn’t going to get into all this today because you’ve just gotten out of the hospital, and I know you have a lot to think about. But some things have changed in the last few days.”
“What kinds of things?”
“Hugh isn’t going to lose his license. Erin’s leaving Craig, Lewis and coming with Goldstein, Miller. The two of them are going to start an Innocence Project. It’s going to be a very large scale pro bono project for the wrongfully convicted. Hugh wanted to tell you himself, but he thought you’d be coming back. Hugh and Erin want you to work with them, and I can give you anything else you want to do. Hugh is still putting me in charge of the firm. Things are going to change under my direction.”
“But how did this happen?” The news was so good that Kathryn was afraid to believe it.
“Sarah told Logan’s stuck-up boyfriend that she would take Hugh’s case to trial and would call Sean Brady as a witness to air all of the president’s dirty laundry in public. The Department of Justice instructed Davidson to withdraw the indictment. That saved Hugh’s career, but it didn’t save Hal Edwards. Sarah’s husband was pretty sure what she’d found so far was just the tip of the Edwards’ iceberg, and so the Bureau is investigating him. The House is drawing up articles of impeachment in case he refuses to resign.”
Kathryn turned back to look at the ruins of the cottage. Her eyes teared up. She said, softly, “It’s so strange to think Tom died because of the President of the United States, a man we never met. I’d like to contribute the money from Tom’s case to Hugh and Erin’s Innocence Project. It’s what he would have wanted.”
Mark smiled. “I’ll tell them. “Are you done here? You look a little tired.”
Kathryn turned back for one last look at the ashes. “We were happy here,” she said.
Mark hugged her gently. “I know. I’d like to think you might be happy with me. Some day. When you’ve had time to think about it.”
She turned away from the ruins of the little house and laid her head on his shoulder. “I don’t need any more time to think about it. The answer is yes.”
EPILOGUE
San Diego, California, December 28, 2016, Breaking News
The Andrews-Cooper Innocence Project has announced today the exoneration of Mr. Saul Rodriguez. Mr. Rodriguez, a member of the Los Angeles gang Rollin’ Sixties, was convicted of the first degree murder of a rival gang member in 1996, and was given a life without parole sentence. Mr. Rodriguez was ordered released from custody today after Erin Mahoney and her father, Hugh, persuaded the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals that DNA evidence proving Mr. Rodriguez innocent of the murder had been wrongfully suppressed by the Los Angeles District Attorney’s Office.
The Andrews-Cooper Innocence Project was founded in August 2015 to honor Thomas Allen Andrews, a long-time member of the San Diego Public Defender’s office, and his close friend Stephen Cooper, an environmental lawyer for the Natural Resources Defense Counsel. Mr. Andrews’ widow, Kathryn Andrews Kelly, is the director of the project, which is sponsored by the law firm of Goldstein, Miller, and Mahoney. Mark Kelly, managing partner of the firm, calls the Andrews-Cooper Innocence Project one of the firm’s finest achievements. To date, ten wrongfully convicted clients have been released from prison because of the work of Mrs. Kelly and her team.
TO THE READER
I hope that you enjoyed The Death of Distant Stars and will take time to let me know your thoughts about the story by leaving a review on Amazon.com. or Goodreads.
I would also love to hear from you directly at [email protected]. You can connect with me on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/deborah.hawkins.37 or on Twitter, @DeborahHawk3. And my word press blog is found at https://dhawkinsdotnet.wordpress.com. where you will find a link to sign up for my mailing list for advance notice of new releases.
NOVELS BY DEBORAH HAWKINS
Dark Moon, A Legal Thriller
Ride Your Heart ‘Til It Breaks,
Winner Beverly Hills Book Award 2015
Dance For A Dead Princess
Finalist Foreword Reviews, 2013,
Honorable Mention, Beverly Hills Book Award 2013
The Death of Distant Stars, A Legal Thriller Page 35