Her Kind of Case: A Lee Isaacs, Esq. Novel

by Jeanne Winer

  “Sounds like a plan.” Carla shouldered her purse and sighed. “I know he did something terrible, but I feel kind of sorry for him.”

  “You feel sorry for everyone. How much money did you end up sending Lenny?”

  “That’s none of your business,” she said primly. “God, I’m starving! You know what sounds good to me?”

  “I don’t even want to guess.”

  “Some chili cheese fries at Mustard’s Last Stand. What do you say?” She smiled happily. “We’re partners again. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

  Lee nodded, trying to look enthusiastic.

  Carla’s directions to the Matthews home were typically vague and frustrating. Take I-25 south to exit 150A or B, whichever seems like it’s going in the right direction, but you’re looking for Jamboree Drive off Academy Boulevard. If you’re too far north, Academy turns into South Gate Road, in which case turn around and go south. Jamboree Drive dead-ends at Outreach Park. The house is the last structure before the park. If it’s dark, you won’t be able to see it.

  Lee had three sentencing hearings set for Friday afternoon, which should have taken a couple of hours. She’d planned to leave Boulder around three-thirty and arrive in Colorado Springs by six at the latest. But two victims, a woman and her teenage daughter, showed up for the last sentencing, an armed robbery at a 7-11, and each wished to describe how traumatic it was to have a gun pointed in their direction, if only for a second; Lee’s client had chickened out and started running when he realized there were customers in the store. He’d been busted a few blocks away with a six-pack of Mountain Dew under his coat—not even the brand he wanted.

  The judge had listened patiently to the victims before sentencing Lee’s client to the eight-year stipulated sentence the parties had already agreed on.

  So Lee was an hour late and by the time she found Jamboree Drive and was heading toward the park, it was dark. Luckily, she recognized Carla’s white Civic hatchback parked under a huge cottonwood tree. Lee pulled her old Toyota 4Runner in behind her. Both women got out of their cars.

  It was another lovely October evening in the low fifties, perfect weather for a weekend in Glenwood Springs. Lee closed her eyes for a moment and thought about Paul, the way he looked after swimming laps in the hot springs pool, his wet black hair that was always a little too long, his blue eyes, those funny, tight fitting, plaid shorts he wore as a bathing suit. “I’m a sexy devil, aren’t I?” he used to say when he caught her looking at him that way. You were indeed, she thought, then waved good-bye in her mind and focused on the present.

  “Where’s the house?” she asked. The street seemed deserted.

  Carla pointed across the road toward a large metal gate.

  “Behind that gate. There’s a long driveway, maybe two hundred yards. It isn’t as fancy as you’d think. Strictly middle-class but with its own little forest. They obviously like their privacy.”

  “Anyone home?”

  Carla pulled her gray wool cape tight around her shoulders.

  “I think so. I saw a VW van drive in about an hour ago. There were two people, a man and a woman, both about fifty. I’m assuming they’re Jeremy’s parents.”

  As Lee stared at the gate, she heard howling sounds coming from the park.

  “What the hell is that?” Carla whispered.

  “Coyotes,” Lee said, grinning. “We hear them all the time up at Mark and Bobby’s.” She rubbed her eyes. It had been a long day. “I don’t see any lights.”

  “I know, but they’re on. You have to sneak in about thirty yards before you can see the house. My shoes are ruined.”

  “Good work.”

  “Thanks. I’m adding the cost of new shoes to my bill.” Carla paused. “I have one of those big yellow flashlights in my car. Should I get it?”

  “No. We’ll look like burglars instead of professional visitors. It’s not that dark. Our eyes will adjust. There’s probably a buzzer on the gate and lights that come on when you get closer to the house.” Lee squared her shoulders. “Come on, and don’t forget your briefcase. We’re professionals representing their son.”

  “Whom they threw out and want nothing more to do with.”

  “We don’t know that. Maybe they’ll surprise us.”

  The coyotes began howling again. The wind picked up slightly.

  “I don’t like this,” Carla said, but she unlocked her car and pulled out her briefcase.

  “It’ll be okay. It’s our only chance to speak with them without the DA there to coach them. I have to know what they told the police on the night Jeremy was arrested. They weren’t present during the interrogation, which means the confession is potentially suppressible. If they said Jeremy was emancipated, it’s going to make my job a lot harder.”

  “But that’s what they’re going to say, isn’t it?” They were crossing the road, heading for the gate.

  “Who knows? The police reports just say that they called the Matthews residence before questioning Jeremy. Maybe his parents refused to cooperate, in which case I might have a chance.”

  They couldn’t find a buzzer on the gate, but it was unlocked, squeaking ominously as they pushed it open just enough to squeeze through. They walked ahead slowly, the road curving sharply to the right. After a minute, they could see the house in the distance. The front porch light was on, and some interior lights as well. It was very quiet.

  “This gives me the creeps,” Carla whispered. “It’s like Waco.”

  Lee rolled her eyes and kept walking.

  “Wait a minute,” Carla said, bending down and picking up a large white sign lying in the dirt. Lee wiped it clean using the edge of her briefcase.

  “Beware of Dog.”

  “Shit!” Carla whispered.

  They looked around and listened. Nothing.

  “The sign has been on the ground for some time,” Lee said.

  “Doesn’t mean there isn’t a dog.”

  After two or three minutes, Lee said, “Come on. Even if they do have a dog, it’s obviously in the house or tied up somewhere.”

  “Fine. You can pay all my hospital bills too.”

  They walked another fifty yards before Carla grabbed Lee’s arm.

  “I heard something.”

  And then Lee heard it too: growling.

  A second later, they saw it. At first, Lee thought it might be a huge coyote wandering outside the park and looking for food. The animal was standing very still about fifteen feet away from them. It was dark brown and muscular, weighing at least eighty pounds, and not on a leash. Definitely not a coyote.

  “It’s a Doberman Pinscher,” Carla said. “See its ears? I saw a show on the Discovery Channel about attack dogs. Dobermans make great attack dogs. Whatever you do, don’t run.”

  “I have no intention of running.”

  “And don’t look directly at him.”

  “I’m not,” Lee assured her. She was, instead, looking around for a huge stick or a rock, something to toss at the dog if it came any closer.

  The dog growled again, baring its teeth, which looked like jagged scissors. So far, it hadn’t moved.

  “On the show,” Carla said, “the host wrapped a blanket around his arm and shoved it into the dog’s mouth.”

  “And then what?” Lee asked, still looking for a weapon.

  “And then my phone rang. By the time I got back, the show was over.”

  “How about your cape?”

  “My cape? It was a show, for God’s sake. It probably wasn’t even real. They probably used trained dogs.”

  “We could throw it toward him as a distraction. Then kick its head and neck if he comes at us.”

  “Are you crazy?” Carla asked. “I love this cape. I paid full price in Santa Fe. I’m not going to let you throw it at a Doberman.”

  The Doberman growled and took a small step forward.

  “Give me the cape,” Lee said.

  “Fine. I’ll add it to the bill.” Carla slipped off her cape and hande
d it to Lee.

  Suddenly, they heard a woman’s voice coming from the front porch.

  “Leonard! Call Henry off. I think they’re women.”

  “They’re trespassers,” the man answered. “There’s a sign.”

  “Hello,” Lee called, like a seasoned hostess from Welcome Wagon. “Could you call off your dog? He’s frightening us.”

  The Doberman took another step forward, lowering his head as if to charge. Saliva dripped from his lower jaw.

  “Leonard, call Henry off,” the woman said. “I mean it! He could hurt them.”

  Lee and Carla waited. A number of seconds passed.

  “Okay, fine,” the man said. “But he wouldn’t hurt them unless I told him to. Henry! Come!”

  The dog hesitated, and then started trotting in the direction of the man’s voice.

  “Phew,” Carla whispered. “Can we go get drunk now?”

  “Thank you,” Lee called. “My name is Lee Isaacs. I’m the lawyer who represents your son. Carla here is my investigator. She’s pretty upset. Could we please come in and sit down for a few minutes? Maybe get her a glass of water. She takes medication.”

  “For what?” Carla whispered.

  “Wing it,” Lee said, starting toward the house.

  “Go away,” the man told them. “Our son Jeremiah is dead to us. He’s in God’s hands now.”

  No, actually he’s in mine, Lee thought.

  “Carla really needs some water. Please.”

  “I get terrible migraines that last for weeks,” Carla called. “I just need to sit down for a moment and take my pills.”

  “Let them come in,” the woman said. She stepped off the porch and headed toward them.

  “My name is Mary Matthews. I’m so sorry. Leonard gets carried away sometimes. How is Jeremiah?”

  “Not so good,” Lee answered. “You should go and visit him.”

  They were almost to the house, a modest split-level built sometime in the eighties.

  “I-I can’t,” Mary whispered. “Don’t ask me again.”

  When Lee walked through the front door, she found herself standing in the entrance of a chapel.

  “Wow,” Carla said behind her. “It’s a church.”

  “Yes,” Leonard intoned, approaching them with a bible in his hand. He’d obviously been good-looking when he was younger. Now, his hair was white and his face was deeply lined, as if he’d been discontented for most of his life. “This is where we spend our days. Where everyone, if they were smart, would spend their days.”

  There were ten rows of pews facing a podium flanked by two giant vases filled with pink and white lilies. Because of the flowers, the room smelled vaguely like cat pee. An enormous silver cross was hanging from the ceiling above the podium. No windows, only one exit.

  “Do you live here?” Lee asked.

  “We live in an apartment downstairs,” Mary said. “It’s actually quite nice.”

  “No,” Leonard corrected her, “we live up here. We sleep down there.”

  Mary blushed a deep red.

  “That’s what I meant.” She was a trim pretty woman with reddish-blonde hair and freckles. Her resemblance to her sister was obvious.

  “Well,” Leonard said, smiling, “it’s not what you said.” His smile was perfect—too perfect—as if he’d practiced it a thousand times in front of a mirror.

  “Could I get that glass of water?” Carla asked.

  “Oh yes, of course,” Mary said. “I’ll be right back.”

  Lee looked around the room, then walked to the front and sat down in the first row facing the podium. Carla immediately followed. Leonard, still smiling, sauntered to the podium and stood behind it. The two women sat quietly looking up at their client’s father. Leonard gazed benevolently down at them. No one spoke. The wait seemed excruciatingly long. Finally, Mary returned with a full glass of water and handed it to Carla, who’d managed to find two moldy white tablets in her briefcase. Lee had no idea what they were but Carla, bless her heart, immediately popped them in her mouth. Leonard motioned his wife to join him at the podium.

  Lee cleared her throat. They were seconds away from being cast out of the House of the Lord.

  “Listen,” she said, “I want to be frank with you. We showed up unannounced and you were kind enough to let us into your home. I came here with the intention of subpoenaing both of you to Jeremiah’s preliminary hearing, which is set for December 1st. Carla here has the subpoenas.”

  Carla stiffened for a moment, but then nodded.

  “But,” Lee continued, “I really just need to know about the conversation you had with the police on the night Jeremiah was arrested. If you would answer just a couple of questions about that, I’ll have Carla tear up the subpoenas and we’ll never bother you again.”

  “We have no intention of discussing Jeremiah or the reasons he is no longer living under our roof,” Leonard said. Mary was silent.

  “Understood. I just need to know about the night of the arrest. The conversation you had with the police. That’s all.”

  “And we wouldn’t have to come to court?” He wrapped his arm protectively around his wife’s shoulders, pulling her close to him.

  “Right.”

  Leonard began rocking back and forth, forcing his wife to rock with him.

  “Okay,” he finally said. “I’ll answer your questions if you’ll answer a few of mine.”

  “Of course.” Lee smiled politely.

  “Do you believe in God?” he asked.

  “I do,” Carla volunteered.

  “Not you! Her.” His smile was beginning to fade, as if he’d held it as long as he could.

  Lee considered her answer. She needed the interview. Although she’d been lying through her teeth all evening, she had a feeling it was time to stop, that he’d know if she was bullshitting him.

  “I don’t disbelieve in God,” she said.

  Leonard smirked. It looked much more genuine than his smile.

  “So you’re an agnostic?”

  “I wouldn’t say that I wasn’t.”

  Leonard took a couple of steps toward her, dragging his wife along with him.

  “Are you intentionally trying to piss me off?” He sounded angry, but in fact he looked pleased, excited even. He liked her answers, liked being opposed—a little resistance, a little foreplay before crushing her.

  “No, sir. I’m just not a big fan of labels.”

  “Are you Jewish?”

  “Leonard!” Mary was blushing. “It’s none of our business.”

  “Shut up, Mary,” he said without looking at her.

  “Yes, I’m Jewish,” Lee told him. “Is that a problem?”

  “Oh, no.” He shook his head and laughed. “It’s perfect. You’re exactly what my son deserves.”

  Mary pulled away from her husband’s arm.

  “Please forgive him. He’s actually quite upset about Jeremiah. We both are.”

  “Actually, I’m not,” Leonard said.

  Lee smiled at Mary and said, “There’s nothing to forgive. Since I’m one of the best attorneys in Colorado, I couldn’t agree more.” She turned back to Leonard. “So, Mr. Matthews.”

  “Oh, call me Leonard.”

  “Leonard. What did the police tell you on the night they arrested your son? Carla, would you please take notes.”

  Carla instantly pulled out a yellow pad and a pen.

  “Hmm, let me see.” Leonard clasped the bible to his chest. “They called and told us that they’d picked up Jeremiah and wished to question him as a suspect in a recent murder. They said they knew he was sixteen.”

  Lee nodded for him to continue.

  “So, they asked if Jeremiah was emancipated. They—”

  “Wait,” Lee interrupted, “did they specifically use that word?”

  “Oh yes. I told them how offensive it sounded. As if Jeremiah had been a slave and now he was free. The detectives laughed and said no, that the word was a legal term of art that had
nothing to do with slavery, that it simply meant Jeremiah was no longer dependent upon us for his care, custody, or earnings. I said fine, in that case he was emancipated, that we’d had nothing to do with him since the night he left.”

  “You mean the night you threw him out.” The interview was almost over. Lee didn’t have to be quite so careful anymore.

  “Correct. Jeremiah chose a different path than ours. He didn’t adhere to our rules. He flouted them. And because of that, he was no longer welcome.”

  Mary was conspicuously silent. Her face was flushed and a little angry looking. What might she say, Lee wondered, if her husband wasn’t there? But of course he was.

  Lee then asked what she considered to be the most important question of all.

  “Did the police invite you to come up to Boulder and be present during your son’s interrogation?”

  “No. They said we didn’t have to. If Jeremiah was emancipated, we didn’t need to come.”

  Lee eyed the huge silver cross hanging above them and hoped the relatively thin metal chain holding it was stronger than it looked.

  “Did you speak about anything else?” she finally asked. Technically, this was beyond the scope of their agreement, but why not try?

  “Nope. I didn’t even ask who the victim was. We don’t care.”

  “I do,” Mary said, looking mildly defiant.

  Lee searched her pockets for a business card, found one, and held it up to show Mary.

  “I’ll leave this here for you. If you’d like to know anything about the case, please call me. I’d be happy to answer any of your questions.”

  “Mary,” Leonard warned. “We’ve agreed.”

  “No,” Mary said. “I just wanted to say that I care about the person who was murdered. That’s all.”

  “You can get out now,” Leonard said, pointing toward the door. “And take the card with you.”

  Lee and Carla stood up and began walking toward the entrance of the house.

  “Hey, what about the subpoenas?” Leonard called.

  Carla reached into her briefcase, held up a couple of pieces of paper, tore them in half and then stuffed them into her bag.

  “No longer valid.”

  “We can find our way out from here,” Lee added.