Josie jumped on the opening. It wasn’t more than a hairline crack in his demeanor but it was enough to tell her that he had a conscience.
“You’re right. I don’t have anything to lose so that means I can fight tooth and nail. Just tell me what you suspect. Give me access to your personnel files. Let me talk to the women in this firm. Tell me if you know anything about the fight between Fritz and Kip Rayburn. All I need is your permission. I’ll be discreet. All you have to do is give me the sword. I’ll slay the dragon and you keep the castle.”
Ian Frank put his elbows on top of his well-kept desk and clasped his hands. He let them fall back against his lips once and then he put them in front of him. He didn’t think longer than a second.
“There isn’t a businessman on this earth who would believe what you just said. No. I won’t open this firm up to you. Though I have a great deal of faith in the practical mindset of our clients, I won’t help you tip the balance. Now, I know you’re a fine attorney, but I’m probably better. If you try to get a court order to go into my records, I will stop you.” Ian opened his hands as if in apology. “Eventually you may get what you want but I’ll keep you tied up until this trial is over. I’ll protect what’s mine and that, as they say, is that.”
“I thought this firm belonged to Kip now, too,” Josie reminded him.
“You think he’s going to give you permission to go after his father on his own turf?” Ian laughed.
“No, I was just curious to find out if he understood he’d be second fiddle around here. That you’re the one who will be making all the big decisions.”
“That’s exactly how it is, Ms. Bates, and I don’t think Kip will mind. I’ve done well at the helm of this firm. I will continue to do my job well and make him rich. I will support him if he is on the bench. I have a great deal of respect for Kip.”
“Did Justice Rayburn have the same respect for his son?”
“I have no idea,” Ian laughed. “Fritz and I weren’t friends. We were business partners. We made business decisions.”
That was it. The moment Josie was waiting for. Ian Frank was lying. Josie had cross examined too many witnesses, completed too many interviews, represented too many defendants not to know that lies weren’t always dotted with beads of sweat and didn’t always quiver with the telling. Sometimes lies came as they did with Ian Frank; behind an expression so controlled it was unnatural. He looked straight at her. There was just the hint of a smile on his lips. It had been there before she asked the question and it remained after. He didn’t react to the ridiculousness of the query by waving it off or throwing himself back in the chair as if she was wasting too much of his time.
“You liar. A law partnership is closer than most marriages. You know everything.” Josie put her hand on the top of his desk; she made sure she didn’t look away. “You’re not concerned about the emotional value of Fritz Rayburn’s legacy so what’s the deal you made? Was Kip going to be an active member of the firm? Was he just going to collect the partner’s share? There had to be documents that were signed, discussions held, decisions made. Were you and Fritz on the opposite sides of the fence when it came to good old Kip?”
Ian Frank’s eyes clouded. He was wary, on his guard. Sexual aberrations were something to pass off but now Josie was treading on sacred ground – the firm’s.
“Fritz didn’t know he was going to die, Ms. Bates, so passing on his interest in the firm wasn’t exactly top of mind.”
“Fritz Rayburn was a lawyer, Mr. Frank, and so are you,” Josie drawled. “Lawyers don’t leave anything to chance where their firms are concerned. Was Kip the beloved son, trusted with the legacy over your objections? Did you welcome him, but Fritz wanted him controlled? What was the deal? You might as well tell me because I swear I am going to kick up a ruckus until I find out.”
“Mr. Frank?”
Ian Frank’s eyes snapped to the doorway. May was back.
“Yes, what is it?”
The woman’s expression changed from bland to startled. It was tough to be snapped at when you were just following orders.
“Mr. Blosser is on his way up.”
Ian Frank dismissed her by looking back at Josie. She pressed her case.
“I know that Kip and Fritz had a huge argument just before he died. I want to know if it was about business. I know that you. . .”
Ian Frank stood up abruptly. He put out his hand and said:
“This interview is over, Ms. Bates. I have an appointment.”
Josie hesitated. She stood up too but ignored the hand he held out to her.
“I’ll be calling you to court, Mr. Frank, so clear your calendar.”
Ian Frank lowered his outstretched arm. He was not insulted, and he wasn’t stupid enough to dismiss the message.
“That is your prerogative, Ms. Bates. In fact, if time permits, I might even show up. It could be fun to see what would happen between us in a courtroom.”
“I assume you wouldn’t ignore a subpoena?” Josie raised a brow.
“I’ve always found sympathetic consideration given to the schedules of busy attorneys. Even the court knows its only business at the end of the day,” Ian reminded her.
“No, Mr. Frank, at the end of this day we’re talking about a young girl’s life and I’ll bet the system will see it my way. If I want you on that stand, that is where you’ll be.”
Josie made her statement and her exit. Ian Frank let her go without another word. By the time she made it to the elevator he was dictating a memo. When the elevator came, Josie had to step back for a man who was in a hurry. The receptionist greeted him as Mr. Blosser, the man Ian Frank was waiting for. In the minutes it took the elevator to whisk Josie down fifty-four floors Ian Frank and his client had probably slapped one another on the back a few times and were sitting down to business. Ian Frank probably hadn’t given Josie Baylor-Bates another thought, but someone else had.
“Excuse me.”
Fingers touched Josie’s arm. The touch was light and surprising. Josie’s mind had been on the rich possibilities opened up by Kip’s fight with Fritz, and now a woman she didn’t know was railroading her. The woman’s body pulled in tight against Josie, steering her to a corner of the lobby before Josie reached the door to the valet parking. Josie looked down to see who was insisting on a moment of her time. It was May, the one whose job it was to interrupt Ian Frank.
“I have to talk to you,” she said, her voice quiet, her eyes lowering as she linked arms with Josie. Deftly the short woman herded the tall one into an alcove. She backed Josie up until they were well hidden behind a wall of black marble and a bank of telephones.
“I don’t want to testify in court, okay. I don’t want to lose my job, okay. But somebody needs to tell you about him.” May laid out the ground rules before Josie even knew what the game was.
“You mean Fritz Rayburn?”
“No, no. Not the old man. The young one. Kip. Stupid name for a grown man. Kip is the one you need to know about.”
She squinted up at Josie but it was her tone of voice that was telling. May hoped she wasn’t talking to an idiot.
31
The conversation lasted no longer than five minutes. May was her last name, she didn’t offer a first. Easy enough to find out, but Josie wouldn’t unless it was absolutely necessary. May lived up to Josie’s initial impressions. She was exacting, professional and got to the point.
She heard what Josie had asked. About Kip Rayburn. About Fritz Rayburn. She had worked for the firm for fifteen years. She’d seen a lot. She wouldn’t lie. If it was anything else except this, she would have kept her mouth shut, but she’d been following this case. May had read about it in the papers, heard about it on the news, and discussed it with people in the firm. Oh yes, despite what Mr. Frank thought, people in the firm were talking about Fritz like crazy, and that included some clients. May thought it was awful that they had brought charges against Hannah as an adult. She wasn’t convinced that the girl
had killed her grandfather. Why? Because May knew that other people were really upset with Justice Rayburn. Not that she liked what Josie had done. She thought the emancipation deal was a raw one. There had to be another way. But there it was. The ball had bounced. Still, at the end of the day, May figured Josie’s instincts were right.
“Specifically?” Josie wanted to know everything May did.
“Kip Rayburn,” May answered. “He and his father had been fighting for six months and it was getting ugly.”
“Because?” Josie prodded though May seemed less in need of encouragement than waiting for Josie to ask a question. May had been around lawyers too long.
“Justice Rayburn was going to assign his share of the partnership to Mr. Frank unless his son –“ May paused and shook her head. She made a face as if there was something distasteful in her mouth “Unless he divorced his wife. I’d never heard anything like it. That old man wanted his son to trade his wife for money. I heard them arguing. I typed the codicil to his will.”
May had heard at least three fights about the matter. Mr. Frank wasn’t in favor of it. Kip had worked with the firm. He was an asset. Justice Rayburn was unmoved. He hated Linda and her ‘half breed’ daughter. May heard Mr. Frank accuse Justice Rayburn of playing dirty, just doing it to make Kip miserable, just doing it because he could. He was angry because Justice Rayburn was using the firm badly. Mr. Frank hadn’t liked Mr. Rayburn for a long while. She could tell by the way Mr. Frank answered the phone when the judge called, and the way Mr. Frank ran the firm like it was his own without consulting Justice Rayburn on important matters.
“So, what happened?” Josie asked.
“I don’t know,” May shrugged. “I don’t know what Kip Rayburn decided to do but his father was bringing it to a head. For some reason he wanted Kip to make a decision fast. Now that I’ve heard about what he did to that girl, maybe he wanted to get rid of the evidence. Get the mother out of the house and the girl goes too. Maybe that is why he offered Kip that weird deal.”
“Did Mrs. Rayburn know about this?” Josie asked.
“I never saw her. I don’t know. But I do know that Kip was going to fight tooth and nail. He didn’t want a divorce. He said she loved him and nobody ever had. It was sad. I heard him crying once. The old judge was laughing at him.”
“Do you think he was mad enough to do something desperate? Do you think he was angry enough to kill his own father?”
Josie looked over May’s head. A man had stopped in the entry to the alcove. May looked over her shoulder and eased herself away. The man changed his mind and went on to the parking structure. May lowered her voice and talked faster.
“I don’t know. I saw bits and pieces. They were really angry. I heard raised voices, and you didn’t hear that when it was only Mr. Frank running the place. Even he got crazy when the other two men went at it. What was sad is that Justice Rayburn seemed to be having such a good time. I think he liked sticking it to his son – maybe even to Mr. Frank. I think he’d been doing it so long it was second nature. I felt sorry for Kip Rayburn. Grown man being treated like that just isn’t right.”
“What about Mr. Frank?” Josie’s eyes scanned the comings and goings outside the alcove. No one was interested in them.
“What about him?” May followed Josie’s lead and checked over her shoulder now and again.
“Maybe it was in his best interest that Kip didn’t divorce. Then he wouldn’t answer to anybody if Rayburn died. Maybe he wanted to hurry along the process so he could have the firm to himself.”
May rolled her eyes. She knew two things better than most people: the law wasn’t always about justice and that lawyers sometimes weren’t very practical.
“If Mr. Frank killed Justice Rayburn he would still have had Kip for a partner. The codicil hadn’t been filed. Nope, if you have to look at anyone, look at the son. He was between a rock and a hard place and he was in agony. The girl he didn’t care about, but the wife was a different matter altogether.”
Archer didn’t have to look far to know that there was a problem at the Malibu house. The huge copper gate stood open, twisted to three quarters as if someone had slipped out in a hurry. He pushed it all the way open with a fisted hand and walked in, calling for someone – anyone. The place was silent as a tomb.
Careful not to touch anything, Archer checked it out. Front door: open. Entry rug: off center, one corner flipped back. Dining room: two chairs down. He moved slowly. Warily. Silent now. Ready to run into a living, breathing human being, or step over a body.
Nothing in the hall.
Hannah’s room. A mess. Little stool tipped over. Little dish with a blade. Archer peered closely. No blood. Good sign. French doors that led to the beach. Open. A closer look. Sand at the entry. Feathered. There was no wind now so it had to have been open all night.
Archer moved upstairs, staying close to the wall, watching the doors. All were open. All was silent. The master bedroom was pristine. The bed hadn’t been slept in. Downstairs again he wrapped his finger in the tail of his shirt and activated the answering machine. Last thing he wanted was his prints in this place. There were two messages from Josie asking Hannah to call. The kitchen: crap all over the floor. A junk drawer ripped out and spilled. No cocktail glasses, no dishes, no food, nothing normal. Whatever had gone down had happened fast and furious and followed a path – Hannah’s bedroom, through the dining room and living room, out the front door, and through the gate.
Poof.
All gone.
He walked the perimeter looking for anything that would give him a clue as to where gone was. Linda’s car was in the driveway unlocked. Hannah’s bug was still booted. Someone had come to get Linda, or Hannah, or both. Archer guessed Kip, but Kip wouldn’t take Hannah to the corner if she begged on her knees.
Archer planted his feet in the white sand and looked out to sea. If Linda was taken away and Hannah left behind, then where was she? He hoped to God she wasn’t out there, under the deep blue sea. There was only one way to find out, and it wasn’t by making a phone call and asking politely. He’d have to find the gruesome twosome - Kip and Linda – and look them in the eye to find the truth. Archer trudged back around the house just as an old Valiant pulled into the drive. A woman dressed in white got out, a sweater over her arm, and a shopping bag in her hand.
The maid.
“Hola,” Archer called and went to meet her.
It took less than two minutes to find out she came every other day. She would be no help to Archer. He thanked her, told her the place was a mess and heard her mumble ‘so what else is new’ in Spanish before he got in his car and set his sights on the Palisades to check out the Coffee Haus, and track down the elusive Rayburns.
Josie inched along the freeway, got through the tight patch, and took off as soon as she passed the Century turnoff. The ragtop rattled, she could hear the engine purring under the hood, and her brain was hanging right in there with the car. She wanted to call Archer but knew there would be no way to hear him over the freeway noise, so Josie made mental memos as she wove into the fast lane and out again to pass a tractor-trailer.
Archer was top of the list. Josie would have him running for the next three days, checking out every bit of the Rayburn’s lives: the women Linda hung with at the gym, the few she drank with, the ones she served with on those charitable committees where someone named Rayburn would be welcome. Josie would have him talk to the partner’s wives at Rayburn & Frank. Archer would go to Kip’s club, talk to those who knew him well. Purpose: find out who knew about Fritz’s ‘deal’ with his son.
Josie changed lanes again taking cursory note of the mobile impressions: a man on a cell phone, a gray Mercedes, a girl singing at the top of her lungs in a white Toyota. Billboards went by in a rush of color and light. The electronic message board warned of a slow down at the next turnoff but Josie flew past – no traffic jam in sight. She exited the freeway at Rosecrans. Thirty minutes later she’d navigated the surface s
treets and was home. Gathering her purse Josie walked down the driveway snapped the remote over her shoulder and closed the garage door. She dug in her purse for her keys and hurried around the corner of the garage only to slow her step, stunned to see who was waiting on her doorstep.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Archer called back, raising a hand as he hiked across the impeccable lawn that swept up to the Rayburn’s Palisades estate. The kid who called to him was short, tanned, and buff. His shirt was off and he was surrounded by a couple thousand dollars’ worth of flowers and plants.
“Did you bring the mulch?”
“Nope. Sorry. Wrong guy.”
“Damn. I need that mulch. These beds are like totally dead after that fire. I need to work in some mulch here. I called the company two hours ago.”
“Sorry,” Archer shrugged, “can’t help you. I’m looking for the Rayburns. Are they here?”
“I got here about six. I haven’t seen anybody.” The kid squinted toward the main house. “I seen the cars, just haven’t seen them.”
“Archer.”
He put out his hand, shook the kid’s
“Rene,” the young man filled in the blank.
“Nice to meet you. I’m actually looking for the daughter.”
“Hannah?” Rene nodded. “I haven’t seen her either.”
“What about before the fire? Did you see anything then? Anything out of the ordinary?” Rene squinted into the sun as he thought.
“I’m here one day a week. I don’t know what’s ordinary. They walk right by me. Except Hannah. She said hi when she saw me. The old man didn’t like it.”
Hostile Witness Page 25