Hostile Witness

by Rebecca Forster

  Faye shook her head in disbelief.

  “What you did was drastic and uncalled for, Josie. Your client had enough problems without alienating her mother and half the people in this city. There is a serious question that you overstepped your bounds as an attorney. Threatening emancipation was emotional blackmail.”

  “Oh come on, Faye.” Josie tossed the paper onto the floor. “Everyone in that room was ready to go to bat for a dead judge. Without me, Hannah wouldn’t have had a voice at all. Linda and Kip Rayburn would have sold her out for an insanity plea just to keep this quiet.”

  “Did you ask Hannah what kind of representation she wanted, or whether she wanted to be legally and irrevocably severed from her parent?”

  “Since when does a client dictate strategy?”

  ”Since her life is at stake on so many levels. I would think her input would be invaluable – at least to an attorney who honestly cares about what is best for her client,” Faye shot back.

  “That’s all I care about, and all I think about, Faye. Hannah was in no condition to think about anything, much less make decisions. It’s all there.” Josie indicated the newspapers. They hadn’t missed a thing, not Hannah’s self mutilation, not Kip’s outburst, Linda’s outrage, or Josie’s accusations

  “I think that was the point Linda Rayburn was trying to make,” Faye said. “Hannah is a disturbed kid, and you’ve put yourself in an untenable position. You’re a lawyer, Josie. You can advise. You can suggest. You can’t change legal relationships – especially that of a parent and a child – at your whim. You didn’t confer with your client, or her mother, before you made that threat. Why are you being so bullheaded about this?”

  “Because it is unfair. Because if I don’t fight hard, Hannah will end up in a mental facility and she doesn’t belong there. And she sure doesn’t belong in prison. Not knowing what we know now.” Josie untucked her other leg. She thought Faye was going to help her, stand by her. Now it felt like Faye was lined up against her. “Look, I spoke to Doctor McGrath late last night. He’s one of the country’s foremost experts on obsessive/compulsive disorder. He’s sending me a complete report on the ability of a person who suffers from this disorder to affect their chosen environment. For some people it’s wiping up the kitchen, for others it’s locking the doors. They couldn’t do anything to alter that environment. It would be akin to them cutting off their nose to spite their face, literally. When they are threatened by outside influences - like Rayburn’s abuse – they work harder than ever to protect the things and places that make them feel safe and secure.”

  “That’s what you’re relying on? Josie, for goodness sake, you’ve lost your perspective,” Faye cried.

  “That’s compelling stuff when you add it to the questions about the physical evidence and how the fire started. This will explain Hannah’s DNA on Rayburn, but exonerate her of the act that actually killed him. I know that when I wrap it up in closing and tie it all together, they won’t have any choice but to acquit.”

  “I’m sorry Josie, but the prosecution has a leg up. A girl killing an abusive man is a whole lot easier to swallow than a girl being unable to light a match because she doesn’t like to upset the balance of nature. To argue that Fritz’s abuse made her compulsion worse sounds like hocus-pocus. It’s dangerous what you’re doing. You say you want to help, and yet you don’t see that you might be solidifying a more acceptable motive.”

  “Okay. Fine.” Josie was peeved. She put her hands on her thighs. “Look, Faye. You haven’t been behind this from the beginning. And I don’t want to be rude, but this is a little out of your league. I promise I know what I’m doing. I have options, so let’s drop it.”

  Her nerves frayed, Josie started to get out of her chair but Faye stopped her.

  “It’s not going to be that simple, Josie. I hadn’t quite decided what to do, but you just helped me make up my mind.” Faye’s eyes never left Josie’s. There was no hesitation. Indeed, Faye suddenly seemed to harbor a smoldering anger. “I don’t want this case in-house one more minute.”

  There was a beat of silence, a pause in which Josie and Faye squared off. Faye had the advantage of surprise.

  “I’ve called Sandra Johns. She’s sharp, quick on the uptake. Hannah would do well with her and you’ve got ten days to bring her up to speed. I want you to recuse yourself and pass this along.”

  “Don’t you think we should ask Hannah how she feels about new counsel? Or maybe we should just let Sandra show up when court resumes and surprise her?”

  Josie’s voice was dry with sarcasm.

  “You didn’t ask her about emancipation, did you? What you should do is tell Mrs. Rayburn so she has a chance to meet Sandra... What you should do is show some respect, Josie.”

  “I am showing respect to my client by doing my damndest for her. I won’t let this go because I hurt your feelings by pointing out the obvious. You’ve never been in this arena, and you have no experience with which to judge.”

  “Stop treating this like a personal challenge. Hannah is sixteen years old, Josie,” Faye cried. “Do what is best for that girl and get her someone who is more objective. Bring her mother back into the picture or you’re going to destroy Hannah, the relationship with her mother, and yourself.”

  Josie shook her head hard. Ruining a mother’s relationship with her daughter was the last thing she wanted.

  “You’re wrong. There are priorities. The first is to win this trial. Once that’s done we can worry about relationships. Besides, Norris would have to approve new counsel. He’s not going to do that after today. This thing is already too hot to handle. If you’ve got a problem, let’s talk about it. Don’t go behind my back and talk to Sandra Johns. If you don’t have that respect for Hannah, at least have it for me.”

  “Okay, let’s talk about professional respect,” Faye agreed. “Let’s talk about Helen Sterling. You were supposed to talk to her about her property settlement. You never called. Billy Zuni was released and has been trying to see you for the last three days. Not even a phone call. Let’s talk about your time sheet. You haven’t done one, and the billing cycle is already over. Let’s talk about Angie who’s been working overtime for you every night and not a word of thanks, just more directions and demands. Where do you want to start, Josie? What do you want to discuss when it comes to your professional behavior?”

  Agitated, Josie waved her hands.

  “I’m sorry, okay? I’ve let a few things slip, but now I have some breathing room. I’ll get all that done in the next few days. I’ll have the time sheet on your desk Monday morning. But you’re forgetting that this isn’t just about the next few weeks. This is about an opportunity for this firm,” Josie insisted, hoping Faye would look at the big picture. “The fee we’re getting for this is big and we can use it to upgrade. We can afford another paralegal. The notoriety will bring in bigger and better clients, Faye. This case could put this firm on the map.”

  Faye got up but she didn’t go far. She turned away from Josie for a second and collected her thoughts. When she was ready to talk again Faye was a calm, controlled, and committed woman.

  “Charlie and I founded this firm, Josie. I nurtured it. I kept it small and quiet because the people who need me are small and quiet. I told you when you started this thing with Hannah that I didn’t want it to impact my business, but that’s what’s happening. I don’t want Angie’s time monopolized. I don’t want reporters on my doorstep. I don’t want my clients to worry that we’re going to take anything away from them the way you have taken Hannah away from Linda Rayburn.”

  “That’s unfair,” Josie argued. “This is a unique situation.”

  “Josie, you know exactly what I mean and I resent you thinking you can out maneuver or shame me on this. I won’t allow it.”

  Josie dropped her chin. She looked at her hands, spread her fingers, and checked out her short nails. Quickly she pulled those fingers in, making two fists. Her hands were shaking.

 
“You said there were options. I only heard one. Referral.”

  There was a heartbeat and then another. Faye was rock solid. There wasn’t a shadow of doubt or regret on her face. There wasn’t a tremor of indecision when she said:

  “You can take care of this on your own, Josie.”

  “Faye,” Josie breathed in disbelief. “You’d cut me loose?”

  “I don’t agree with your tactics. I resent the fact that you think I don’t understand them. The publicity is going to do my firm more harm than good. Tiffany took a phone call late last night threatening us because of what you did to Linda. Your troubles haven’t begun and already I’ve had enough.” Faye was exasperated. She moved closer to Josie and sat on the edge of the coffee table. Her voice was reasonable and sad. “What am I supposed to do? Spend my day worrying about how Hannah Sheraton is going to affect me, and my business, instead of serving the people I care about?”

  Josie could feel that chill starting deep in her gut. She had that same feeling the morning her mother disappeared, a deserter from the family post. She felt it when she learned Kristin Davis’s children were dead. Josie wrapped her arms around her body but raised her head high. She had learned something during those long ago tests. Fear was one thing, showing it quite another.

  “This isn’t just your firm anymore, Faye. We’re partners, or have you forgotten?” Faye’s expression melted into genuine sadness. “You never signed those papers, Josie. You have no legal standing in my firm.”

  Josie was out of her chair, agitated, frightened, disbelieving, and still wanting to fight.

  “Faye, I can’t believe you’d do this. . .”

  Don’t send me away. Don’t leave me alone.

  “You’ve left me no choice,” Faye answered.

  “Why is it that someone like Hannah doesn’t need as much help as somebody down the block? Because she’s pretty? Young? Because she has big problems? You haven’t even talked to her, Faye. You don’t know her at all. She couldn’t have done what she’s accused of, and I know it in here.”

  Josie put her fist to her chest. It was a ridiculous, melodramatic gesture of solidarity, but that was what she felt for Hannah Sheraton. Everyone was willing to walk out on this kid or throw her away, and that made Josie’s heart hurt.

  “I don’t want to talk to her,” Faye cried in frustration. “I want you to forget about her, come back to work, and deal with the people you told me you wanted to represent when I hired you.”

  “You are so full of it. You’re not even listening to yourself. You want us to help people but only certain people.”

  Josie planted her hands on her hips and turned her head toward the window. Her back was to Faye. Clouds hung over the horizon. Josie wanted the sun to come back so she could go outside and pick up a game of volleyball, sit on the beach with a beer, and get her work done between nine and five. She didn’t want to feel this kind of passion again, yet there it was. Her gut burned with it. Whatever had driven Josie all those years ago was driving her again. But this time it was fine-tuned. This case was more than a challenge to Josie’s intellect; it was a challenge to her emotional well being. Faye had drawn the line. Josie would have to step over it.

  “You’re not putting limits on what we do as lawyers, or how we do it, but on who we do it for. I wouldn’t have expected it from you, Faye.”

  “I wouldn’t have either, Josie. I just know this isn’t what I want for my firm and, bottom line, this is still my firm.”

  “You’re not giving me any real options here, Faye,” Josie whispered.

  “Refer her, or take her out on your own,” Faye said plainly.

  Josie didn’t move. She couldn’t move. Something inside her said that she was the only one who could help Hannah. The arrogance of that was ridiculous, but there it was.

  “Josie?” Faye’s voice surrounded her, challenged her.

  “I heard you.” Josie faced Faye. “Those are ultimatums, not options.”

  “I’m not going to defend my decision,” Faye answered. “Even if you win, there isn’t going to be a happy ending, Josie. Sad thing is that I think you’re the one who is going to be hurt when this is over. You make a commitment as a lawyer to be a clear-eyed, clear-headed advocate. You are supposed to be unmoved by the mitigating circumstances, and able to put aside your experiences and emotions as a woman in order to do your job. You’re not doing any of that. This is just too personal for you. Step away now and take a real good look at yourself, Josie, before you go any further.”

  “I’m doing the right thing. I may be the only one who is. Bottom line, Hannah deserves her day in court. That’s the business we’re in.”

  “I agree, just let her have that day with another attorney.” A flush crept along Faye’s jaw line, and regret in her eyes, but she didn’t back down.

  “I hate all this, Faye,” Josie said.

  “So do I,” she answered.

  “Then hang in there with me. Get back to where you were thirty years ago when you promised to be a lawyer, not just someone who steps in when Mr. Jones down the street gets a DUI.”

  “That’s low, Josie. I won’t have you talk to me that way.”

  “And I’m hurt,” Josie answered. “I’ve got to believe there is a reason Linda came looking for me. Maybe we’re supposed to help this girl just to prove our brains work and our hearts aren’t all closed off. Maybe you need to care about something since your husband died, and maybe I need to learn to live because I checked out of the real world three years ago. Did you ever think of that?”

  “Don’t go there, Josie. You don’t have any right to talk about Charlie. As for you, I don’t know anything about you. You’ve been protecting yourself ever since you walked through my door. All I did was give you a place to hide.”

  “Then maybe that’s what I’m supposed to find out. Not just what kind of attorney I am but what kind of woman I am.” There was a heartbeat of silence. Josie took a deep breath. “I can’t go back to the office and pretend this doesn’t matter. I need to take a leap of faith in Hannah’s innocence and my own worth. I’m asking you to stand with me, Faye.”

  “And I’m telling you I won’t,” Faye answered without hesitation.

  “Then do it for friendship.”

  When Faye didn’t answer, Josie nodded. With a snap of her fingers she called Max from the corner, clipped his leash and said:

  “Screw you, Faye.”

  25

  “A cold front is moving in. Expect temperatures in the sixties through Thursday.” -Johnny Mountain, Channel 7 Weather

  There is an impressive vein of concrete that winds from the hills of Palos Verdes and ends in Malibu. It ribbons through all the beach cities in between and plays host to anyone who is drawn to the ocean. Josie and Max ambled down Hermosa’s portion of that mile-long bike path after they left Faye’s place. A quarter of a mile from her own house, Josie stopped. A guy on a fifteen hundred dollar bike whizzed by her, intent on breaking the land speed record to Malibu. The smell of grilling onions filled the air. Lunch was being served up at The Strand Café. Four men with gorgeous bodies played volleyball with a vengeance, yet somehow unable to get their game into a rhythm. Josie could have shown them how it was done, but even a pick up game wouldn’t cure what ailed her.

  An ancient woman in baby-blue warm-ups and rhinestone glasses held hands with a man in purple pants and a checked shirt. Families walked together, dogs pulled their owners on roller skates, and no one minded that the weak sun left the water looking gray and uninviting – no one except Josie. Faye had knocked the air out of Josie’s world, flattening it so there was no place to maneuver.

  Behind her, Josie heard the scrape of skates and a chorus of giggles. She pulled Max close as a group of teenage girls went by. They had poured their overactive glands into swimsuits the size of postage stamps and laced their feet into roller blades as big as Nevada. They were oblivious to the chill, unaware that the earth was out of kilter, but they looked damn cute with thei
r Frankenstein feet, their big tits and tiny butts.

  To her left was Archer’s building. His very own. It was purchased long ago when Lexi was alive and Archer thought he had the world on a string. It was one of the original three-story apartment buildings that graced Hermosa Beach before the money came in and people who could afford to tear down a bit of California history did just that. But this one still stood. The paint on the wood framed windows was peeling. Rust streaked from the metal balcony and spilled over the rose-colored stucco like mascara tears rolling down old rouged cheeks. The salt air was a landlord’s bane, but there were flowers in the little bed, and tenants to Archer’s liking in each apartment.

  Josie looked up. She could just make out Archer’s camera pointed out to sea. Hitching Max close, Josie climbed the stairs slowly letting the old dog rest at each landing. At the top she didn’t bother to knock.

  “Archer?”

  Josie walked around a brown tweed sofa, wide enough for two to snooze comfortably on a lazy Sunday. The back was dimpled with three giant buttons covered in the same fabric. Josie’s mother had a coat with buttons that big when she was young and Josie was a baby. She saw a picture once. It was the only picture she could remember where her mother was dressed up. Josie wondered about that coat. It was too frumpy for the days of hip huggers and peasant blouses; too old for someone so young and beautiful.

  Archer’s papa-san chair was in one corner. There was a La*Z*Boy and a low coffee table strewn with travel magazines. She looked toward the balcony. It was empty.

  “Jo?” Archer stood in the bedroom, a towel around his waist another in his hands, ready to dry his hair.

  “Hey.” Josie stood her ground but let Max go. Archer ruffled the dog’s ears and kept his eyes on Josie.

  “What happened?” Archer pushed Max aside and took a few steps.

  “Faye just booted me out, Archer. I’m on my own with Hannah.”

  Archer wrapped the smaller towel around his neck. Josie walked toward him. He held out a hand and drew her close. He was dewy from his shower; water droplets were still nestled in the hair on his chest. Josie put her head on his shoulder; her arms were caught beneath his. He had wrapped her up like a treasured possession.