“She said it wasn’t necessary,” Simon explained. I could tell from his tone he didn’t agree.
And neither did I.
<><><>
When I got to the hospital, the woman at the front desk told me that Nina was still in the process of being admitted. I wasn’t sure what, exactly, that meant, except that her room number wasn’t posted. I headed for Emergency, where I fared no better. It was more than an hour before the powers that be let me see her.
Finally, I took an elevator to the fourth floor and knocked on the open door. Nina had managed to land a private room, but it was stark and stuffy. The air was heavy with a medicinal smell layered upon the lingering odor of cafeteria food.
“Hi,” I said, entering.
Nina lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. She was wrapped in a faded blue floral-print hospital gown that made her pale skin seem almost translucent. An IV needle was taped to one arm.
She turned to greet me, her face wet with silent tears. Then a wan smile touched the corners of her mouth. “This is really shitty.”
“Yeah, it is.” I pulled the plastic chair from the foot of the bed around to the side. “What does the doctor say?”
“Not much. He’s got me on some heavy-duty medicine to stop the contractions. And I have to stay flat. I can’t even get up to pee.”
“Fun.”
“He’s not sure it will work.” Nina gave me a look, something crumpled and sad. “I feel like I’m holding on by my fingernails, Kali. Like I’m slipping a little each day. I don’t think I can make it.”
“Yes, you can.” I squeezed her free hand. “Each week the baby’s chances get better. Each day, in fact. It’s going to work out.”
“Since when have you become such a Pollyanna?”
It was a tenuous conversion, born of worry and uncertainty. And I was sure Nina recognized it.
“I know it’s got to be awful to lie there,” I told her. “With nothing to do but wait. But you’ve got to remember that you’re getting closer to the end all the time.” And then I bit my tongue, remembering that death was another end she might be facing.
“It’s easy for you to talk. You’re not the one going through this.” I could detect a hint of anger in her voice.
“You’re right, I’m not.”
“So cut the cheerfulness, okay?”
“I’m trying to help, Nina. I don’t always know what’s right. What to say to show support.”
“Maybe I don’t want support,” she snapped. “Maybe I want someone to be sad with. I feel like everyone is pulling back. Yeah, they’re sorry, but they’re also glad it’s not them. They mumble words of sympathy, then go on with their own lives.”
“Oh, Nina.” I leaned across the bed and hugged her. “I am sad. And I feel so helpless.”
She hugged me back, then brushed a loose strand of hair from her face, the anger defused. “It’s not just the baby, you know. It’s what comes after. How am I going to give him the love and attention he needs when I’m struggling with the effects of chemotherapy?”
“Chemo is only twelve weeks.” The voice of optimism again, but I couldn’t help it.
She was silent a moment. “And what if I don’t make it?” Her voice was soft and faint, as though she’d had to squeeze the words from somewhere deep inside her. “What if the treatment doesn’t kill the cancer?”
Even Pollyanna didn’t have an answer to that one. I shook my head and gripped Nina’s hand harder. The nurse bustled in just then and shooed me out. I left reluctantly.
Wandering down to the cafeteria, I bought a frozen yogurt and ate it without tasting a bite. When half an hour had elapsed, I went back to check on Nina. She was still flat on her back, but I could tell that her deep blue mood had passed, at least for the moment.
“You didn’t have to hang around,” she said with a valiant attempt at a smile.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I am. Really. I didn’t mean to get mad at you. I just gave in to a moment of panic.”
I pulled up a chair and sat where she could see me without straining. “I wish I could do something to help.”
“You are. You’re here, for one thing. And you’re handling Grady’s defense. I’m so glad you’re doing it, Kali. I’d worry if it were anyone else.”
I knew she was plenty worried as it was. “How about Emily? Is she going to be okay while you’re in the hospital?”
Nina nodded. “Simon and Elsa will look after her. She’s comfortable with them. They’re not a lot of fun though. If you have time, maybe you could stop by and see her.”
“Sure. I’d love to. She’s a neat kid.”
Nina was silent a moment, watching the colorless solution drip into her arm through the IV. “Is the preliminary hearing still set for next week?”
“Wednesday.” A week from today.
“How’s it look?”
“Fine.” I tossed off the word too quickly.
Nina sighed. “That bad, huh?”
I looked her in the eyes. “Actually, it’s neither good nor bad. But Grady wants a full court press at the hearing. He’d like the charges dropped, and that’s not going to happen.”
“You haven’t stumbled onto any lucky breaks, I take it.”
“None that have panned out.” I told her about Eric Simpson’s vendetta against the Carsons, and about Xavier.
“You ought to be able to get some mileage out of the fact that the police don’t seem to have looked into either.”
I nodded. “But it will go further at trial than at the hearing. There’s another angle they never looked at as well.”
“What’s that?”
“Did Deirdre Nichols ever talk to you about the guy she was dating, Tony Rodale?” In the depths of my brain I felt a niggle of worry when I remembered Hal’s story about seeing Marc’s car at Tony’s. I tried to ignore it.
“I didn’t know Deirdre very well,” Nina said. “I saw more of her sister, Sheila. Adrianna and Emily were on the same soccer team last fall, and it was Sheila who came to most of the games.”
“I don’t suppose Sheila ever mentioned anyone her sister was involved with?”
Nina shook her head. “For the most part, the only thing we talked about was the kids. It’s too bad Sheila never had children of her own. She’s the sort who would make motherhood her life’s work.”
“Was she ever married?”
Nina’s expression darkened. “She was engaged once. Or almost engaged. She never told me the details, but I got the impression she never really got over him. He died a couple of years ago and she sometimes acts like she’s his widow.”
I debated the wisdom of telling Nina about my recent conversation with Sheila, and decided against it. Although I had trouble believing Grady had been foolish enough to leave a threatening message on Deirdre’s answering machine, I hadn’t totally discounted the notion.
“She came to see me a couple of days ago,” Nina said after a moment.
“Who did?”
“Sheila. She wanted me to persuade Grady to accept some sort of plea bargain. In the interest of the kids.”
So much for protecting Nina. “She tried to get me to do the same thing too,” I told her.
Nina gave me a long look. “You weren’t going to tell me, were you?” She spoke fast and breathlessly. “You were worried it might upset me.”
“You’ve got a lot—”
“Kali, it’s hard enough being physically out of commission. Don’t treat me like my mind is gone, too.”
“You know it’s not that.”
“I know nothing of the sort. You’ve been trying to shield me since the moment Deirdre first cried rape.” Her voice spiraled. She pulled her hand from mine. “I know only what you choose to tell me, which isn’t a whole hell of a lot.”
She was right, of course. And I felt torn. How did you draw the line between brutal honesty and reassuring empathy where friendship was concerned?
“You’ve g
ot enough to contend with right now,” I told her.
“That doesn’t mean I’ve had a lapse of judgment. My brain is one of the few parts of my body that’s working just fine.”
“I know that, Nina.”
“Funny, you don’t act like it.” Anger flickered in her words.
“You’re under a lot of stress. I only—”
She cut me off. “What gives you the right to decide what I can handle and what I can’t?”
We were both silent. Nina closed her eyes, took several deep breaths. “Don’t shut me out, Kali.”
“If that’s really what you want.”
“I do.” She seemed to hesitate, then turned her gaze in my direction. “From now on anything we say is privileged communication. Okay? Conversation between counsel. We’re partners on this.”
I gave her a questioning look. “Okay.”
Another deep breath. “I think Sheila is wrong about the tape. For one thing, Grady wouldn’t have made such a theatrical threat. It’s not his style.”
I nodded.
“But I’m sure he was up to something. I can pick up on stuff like that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know exactly. But there were a couple of secretive phone calls in the days before Deirdre was killed. And Grady was acting jumpy. If there’s any truth at all to what Sheila says and it comes out at trial, you’ll be broadsided. Juries love stuff like that.”
My stomach churned. “Are you suggesting we go along with what Sheila is asking? You want Grady to plead guilty to a lesser charge?”
“I don’t know what I want, except that I want you to be careful, Kali. Grady’s a good man, and I love him with all my heart. But he’s not perfect.”
Chapter 33
By Saturday the medicine had kicked in enough that Nina’s doctor pronounced her stable. She had to remain in the hospital and wasn’t allowed up, but the contractions had stopped.
I took Emily by the hospital for a visit that afternoon, then we picked up Marc and went on an excursion to the Oakland zoo.
The day was glorious. Clear and warm, but still fresh with the scent of early spring. Emily, who’d been rather subdued in the hospital, sprang to life once she was free to run around. With Marc close on her heels, she scampered excitedly from one exhibit to the next. They called to the baboons, had imaginary conversations with the tigers and bears, and spent half an hour feeding the llamas in the petting zoo. When we’d completed our tour of the animals, we headed for the rides. I passed on the roller coaster, although Emily and Marc assured me it was nothing, but I joined them on the train and the carousel.
I chose to ride a pink pig—not because I thought he was cute, which was Emily’s criterion, but because I wanted to sit behind her and Marc so that I could watch them together. Marc had an easy way with Emily, a silliness that matched her own. It was a side of him I’d not seen before, and one I found oddly appealing.
Nonetheless, I was aware of a nagging tickle in the back of my mind, an uneasiness brought on by Hal’s comment about seeing Marc with Tony Rodale. It made no sense, and when I’d asked Marc, he’d shrugged it off saying Hal must have been mistaken. That was my conclusion too, but the tickle persisted.
As I turned to give the carousel operator my ticket, I caught sight of a man near the exit, a familiar face I couldn’t quite place. I looked for him again on our second swoop around, but he was gone. It wasn’t until we were on our way to the refreshment stand that I remembered who he was. The cop Madeleine Rivera was dating. Somehow I hadn’t imagined her falling for a guy with kids.
We bought hot dogs and took them to an empty table away from the bustle of a birthday party in progress.
“You having fun?” Marc asked Emily.
Her mouth was full, but she nodded vigorously.
He turned to me. “How about you?”
“More fun than I’ve had in months.” The answer was only partially in jest. I didn’t know where our relationship was headed, or where I wanted it to head even, but I knew that we’d crossed the invisible line of simple friendship.
Under the table, Marc’s hand slid intimately up my thigh. He raised a brow and grinned. “Really? The most fun in months?”
“Really.”
Marc gave me a playful pinch. “I hope that’s a slight exaggeration. I seem to remember a night we had that was kind of fun, too.”
Emily poked a straw at her soda. “I wish my daddy was here though.”
“Me too, honey.” Marc stroked her head. “I know he wants to be here.”
“Simon says it might be a long time before he comes home. Maybe never.”
I wanted to give Simon a good shake.
Marc tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “Don’t listen to Simon, sugar. Your dad’s coming home. We’re going to make sure that he does.”
Simon wasn’t the only one who needed a shaking. I kicked Marc under the table. It was one thing to be optimistic, but I wasn’t comfortable with empty promises. And I didn’t have the foggiest idea how you explained the difference to a seven-year- old.
“We’re going to try,” I told Emily. “We’re going to try very, very hard. But it’s not really up to us, or your dad. If it was, he’d be with you right this minute.”
“How are you going to try?” she asked.
That was something I’d been wondering myself. But Emily’s question was of a different nature. “Some people have accused your daddy of doing a bad thing,” I explained.
She nodded knowingly. “They say he got mad at Adrianna’s mommy and pushed her. She hit her head and died.”
I wondered if this was the distilled wisdom of a seven-year- old or an explanation carefully constructed by Nina.
“He says he didn’t though,” I told her. “I believe him, and so does your mom.”
“Me too,” Marc added. He opened a plastic packet of catsup and squeezed it onto his French fries.
“So why can’t he come home?” Emily asked.
“Because it’s not up to us. We are going to tell our side of what happened—why we think your dad didn’t do it. And the other side will tell the reasons they think he did. A group of people called a jury decides who they believe.”
Although Emily nodded, I wasn’t sure how much she understood. Nonetheless, the answer seemed to satisfy her. She reached for a handful of Marc’s fries.
“Your mom will be home before long too.” I added.
Another nod. “As soon as my baby brother is born.”
“Maybe sooner, even.” The baby wasn’t due for another three months.
“Except then she’s going to be very sick,” Emily said solemnly.
I realized how confusing all this must be for someone her age.
Marc swung his legs over the bench we were sitting on and stood. “How about an ice cream cone?” he asked Emily.
“With sprinkles.”
“Absolutely.” He turned to me. “How about you?”
My eyes were focused elsewhere. I’d caught sight of Madeline’s friend again, pouring creamer into a container of coffee. I waited for him to join one of the tables of children, but instead he walked off in the other direction.
Marc turned to follow my gaze. “What is it?”
I shook my head. “Nothing really. I saw someone who looked familiar. A cop Madeleine Rivera is dating.”
Marc strained to see where I was looking.
“He turned left at the gate,” I said. “You can’t see him from here.”
Marc licked his lower lip. “What kind of cop?”
“Homicide, I think.” I spoke softly, above Emily’s head. The man had, after all, been investigating the scene of the crime for which her father was facing trial. Then I shrugged. “It’s not important.”
Marc frowned. “What’s he look like?”
“Athletic build, blond hair cut close to the scalp, a slight scar on his chin.”
Marc crumpled our hot dog wrappers and paper cups, then dumped the
m in the trash. “She’s dating a cop, huh?”
“They went out once or twice at any rate. I think she’d like it to be a regular thing.”
Marc laughed, but I thought I detected a darkening in his expression. If I hadn’t known him better, I might have suspected he was secretly enamored of Madeleine Rivera. Or perhaps I didn’t know him as well as I thought. I remembered Hal saying that very thing.
“You two ready to head home?” Marc asked, already moving in the direction of the exit.
Emily hung back. “Aren’t we going to get ice cream?”
“Sure. We’ll eat it in the car.”
“I thought we were going to ride the bumper cars,” she protested.
Marc ruffled her hair. “Not today.”
He appeared distracted on the way home—no longer joking with Emily, and seemingly oblivious of my presence. Although I’d hoped we might spend the evening together, Marc asked to be dropped off first, before I took Emily home. I tried to hide my disappointment.
“Is something wrong?” I asked when we reached his place.
Marc shook his head, offering me an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I’ve got a headache. I think it was too much sun.”
“If you feel better later this evening, you want to take in a movie?”
He looked at me for a moment, then touched a finger to my cheek. “I’ve got work to do. But if I had my druthers, I’d choose to be with you any day.” He turned to Emily in the backseat. “You too, sport. I had great fun today. We’ll do it again sometime.”
He got out of the car with a wave to both of us.
I had work to do too, so I told myself that maybe it was just as well. Still, I couldn’t help feeling a little hurt. I wondered if I’d done something to make him angry.
After taking Emily home, I went by the grocery and picked up salad fixings for dinner. Then I hit the bakery section and added a fresh apple strudel to my basket. If I was going to spend Saturday night alone, working, I figured I deserved some consolation.
Bea had left me a note saying that Hal had called twice. He would try again later or reach me at the office. After I’d put the groceries away, I tried calling him back. No answer. I tried again after dinner, but he was still out. Obviously Hal had a more active social life than I did.
Motion to Dismiss (A Kali O'Brien Legal Mystery) Page 20