Sleeping Beauty

by Phillip Margolin

  Ashley expected to see a wasted, shrunken, corpse-like creature that no longer resembled a human being. What she saw was less horrifying but much sadder. Casey had only lost ten pounds during her years of unconsciousness, because she was fed and hydrated regularly. If Ashley had walked into the room by mistake, she might have thought the dean was just sleeping. On closer inspection, Ashley saw why Miles had given up hope. She remembered the animated, dynamic woman who’d shown her and her mother around the Academy campus. That woman had been so energetic, so full of life. Casey Van Meter’s body was a shell devoid of life, a cruel façade. Her face was pale, and her skin looked unhealthy, her muscle tone was gone, and her arms were flabby. She had aged badly, and her lustrous, blond hair had gone gray. There was no light in her eyes.

  Ashley fought the impulse to bolt from the room and forced herself to walk closer to the bed. She stared down, heartbroken. She had no urge to touch her mother. Casey Van Meter elicited no feelings of love. She just made Ashley feel uncomfortable.

  When she thought she’d been in the room a decent amount of time, Ashley turned to Ann Rostow.

  “Thank you. I think I’ll go now.”

  “The first time you see someone in her condition, it can be very unsettling, especially if it’s someone you’re close to.”

  “We weren’t close. She gave me away without a second thought when I was born. I knew her as the dean at the school I attended and nothing more.”

  “But she may still be your mother,” Rostow said softly.

  Ashley nodded.

  “Then you can come back and visit anytime.”

  “Thank you. I mentioned a DNA test. If we need a sample of Casey’s blood…”

  “I’ll need a court order, but it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “One more thing, Ms. Rostow. Do the doctors think she’ll get better?”

  “I’ve sat in on meetings when Mr. Van Meter asked that very question. Dr. Linscott always answered that the odds on a full recovery for Ms. Van Meter were very long.”

  Ann Rostow walked Ashley back to the lobby. Outside, the rain was cascading down in heavy sheets and bouncing off the asphalt. Ashley pulled up the hood on her windbreaker, ducked her head, and ran across the street, keeping her eyes on the pavement, preoccupied by thoughts of her brief visit with the dean. Now she understood what Miles had been trying to tell her. Casey was not the strong, determined woman who had stood up to Randy Coleman at the Academy pool. She was one of the living dead. If some miracle of God or science did bring her back to this world, there was no assurance that she would not end up as pathetic and helpless as the ghost people who moved through the halls of Sunny Rest. Logic told Ashley that she should back off and let Casey rest in peace, but something inside her clung to the hope that Casey was still fighting, that she could save her mother.

  Ashley spotted her rental car. She fished out her keys and made a dash for it. Rain was dancing on the roof and the windshield. She leaned down to unlock the door and saw the reflection of a man. Rain poured down from the roof across the driver’s window distorting his features, and a hood partially hid his face, but there was no mistaking the knife he was holding.

  Ashley swiveled and lashed out with her foot as if she was powering a shot on goal. The man was turned sideways and she struck his thigh. He grunted, stumbled back a few steps and his knees buckled. Ashley ran. Feet pounded the pavement behind her. Out of the corner of her eye, Ashley saw a dark blur shoot out from between two cars. Then she heard the sound of bodies crashing to the asphalt. Before she could look back, a shape materialized in front of her. She threw a punch at a hooded, black rain slicker and connected. The apparition staggered. She swung again and strong arms grabbed her.

  “I’m a cop, Miss Spencer,” a male voice shouted. “We’ve got him.”

  Ashley froze and looked at the man who was holding her. She could see part of a uniform under the rain gear. Behind her, over the rain, she heard shouts of “Freeze, police.”

  “Let’s go back,” the officer said. She hesitated. “It’s okay. You’re safe. He’s down. I can see a crowd a few rows back, and they’re our men.”

  The officer led Ashley through the rows of cars toward several policemen in plain clothes. They were surrounding two men in dark clothes who were sprawled on the pavement face down, with their hands clasped behind their necks. A knife lay between them on the waterlogged ground. When Ashley arrived, a detective holding a see-through evidence bag was stooping for it.

  Larry Birch walked over to Ashley. Rain was cascading down his face but he was smiling.

  “It’s a good thing we had you under surveillance,” he said.

  Ashley was shivering, and it wasn’t from the rain. “Who are they?” Ashley asked, her eyes riveted on the prisoners.

  “We’ll soon find out.”

  Birch signaled to one of the officers. “Cuff them then get them on their feet.”

  Several officers kept guns trained on the captives while other officers snapped on handcuffs and helped the men to their feet. Ashley stared at the two prisoners. Their hoods had fallen back to reveal their faces.

  “Ashley,” Randy Coleman shouted. “Tell these cops to get these cuffs off of me. I just saved your life.”

  The other man said nothing. He just stared at Ashley. She stared back until it dawned on her that she knew him. Then she looked away quickly and took a step back.

  Rain cascaded off his shaved head and ran down the length of his thick, jet-black beard. His eye color was different, too. Probably contacts. But there was no doubt that the police had captured Joshua Maxfield.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Larry Birch brought Ashley to Ann Rostow’s office where she was given a mug of hot tea and a towel to dry her hair.

  “Tell me what happened in the lot,” Larry Birch said when she was ready to discuss the attack.

  “I was bending down to unlock my door when I saw someone’s reflection in the window.”

  “Maxfield?”

  “I can’t tell you. The rainclouds blocked most of the sunlight. You know how heavy the rain is. And the window was streaked with water. It distorted everything. And he was wearing a hood.”

  “So you can’t say if Maxfield or Coleman assaulted you?”

  Ashley stared at the detective. She saw that his question was serious.

  “It had to be Maxfield,” Ashley said. “You don’t think Coleman attacked me?”

  “I have to keep an open mind.”

  “What does he say?”

  “Coleman is screaming bloody murder. He’s taking credit for saving your life and capturing Maxfield. He says that he came to visit his wife and just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “Our problem is that his car pulled into the lot after you parked, but he never went inside the nursing home.”

  “What does he say about that?”

  “He says that he hasn’t seen Ms. Van Meter since she went into the coma and he felt that he should find out about her condition firsthand.”

  “I bet his lawyer told him to go so he’d look good in court.”

  Birch shrugged. “I don’t know anything about that.”

  “Why didn’t he go in?”

  “He claims he had a change of heart after he parked, because he wasn’t sure he could handle seeing Ms. Van Meter so helpless. According to Coleman, he was working out his feelings when he saw you leave. He says that he was coming over to talk to you when Maxfield attacked and he came to the rescue.”

  “Is that what your surveillance team saw?”

  “Unfortunately, we didn’t have a clear view. You were between the cars and the attacker came from the middle of the lot. We didn’t even see that you were in trouble until you ran. Then someone rushed out from between two cars, but our view was obstructed by the other cars and our angle, and they were dressed similarly.”

  “Is Maxfield saying he rescued me from Coleman?”

&n
bsp; “Maxfield isn’t talking.”

  “He’s tried to kill me before.”

  “Yeah, he has. And I suspect that we’ll be charging him with another attempt.”

  The door opened and an officer stuck his head in. “There’s a Jerry Philips out here. He says he’s Miss Spencer’s attorney and that you called him.”

  “Let him in,” Birch said.

  Jerry went to Ashley as soon as he walked in the door.

  “Are you okay?”

  Ashley nodded.

  “What happened?” Philips asked Ashley and the detective.

  “Joshua Maxfield tried to kill me,” Ashley answered.

  “He’s in custody,” Birch added.

  “Thank God,” Philips said.

  “Randy Coleman saved me.”

  “Coleman? What was he doing here?”

  “He says that he was going to visit his wife when he saw Maxfield try to kill Miss Spencer,” Birch said. “She was running for help when Coleman tackled him.”

  “Are you hurt?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “She didn’t panic,” Birch said. “She fought him off. She was very brave.”

  Jerry turned to Ashley. “You must have been scared to death.”

  “I was, but I’m better now.”

  Jerry looked at Birch. “Are you finished? Can I take Ashley home?”

  “Yeah. I’ll need a statement but we can do that tomorrow. Can you drive Miss Spencer? We have to go over her car for evidence and we can’t turn it back to her today.”

  “That’s fine. It’s a rental. You can give it back to the agency when you’re through.”

  “This is great,” Jerry said as soon as they were underway. “Maxfield is going to prison. You don’t have to be afraid of him anymore.”

  “They arrested him before and he escaped,” Ashley said.

  “That won’t happen this time. He’ll be watched like a hawk.”

  Ashley didn’t reply. She shut her eyes and laid her head against the back of the seat. Jerry must have thought that she was asleep, because he didn’t speak for the rest of the trip.

  “We’re here,” he said as soon as he parked in front of her building.

  Ashley got out of the car without saying a word. Jerry followed her inside. There was a clock in the living room. The time shocked her. It was only a little after one in the afternoon. Ashley felt as if she’d been up for days.

  “Are you hungry?” Jerry asked. “Do you want me to fix something for you?”

  “Okay?”

  “Let me rummage around in the fridge.”

  Ashley slumped down at the kitchen table.

  “Feel like telling me what’s bothering you?” Jerry asked while he made them ham-and-cheese sandwiches.

  “Do you think it’s possible that it was Randy Coleman who attacked me?”

  The question took Philips by surprise. “I thought he saved you.”

  “He probably did. But the attack seemed-I don’t know-clumsy. I saw Maxfield in action once. It was at the pool at the Academy. Coleman was bothering the dean and he got violent. Maxfield was there. He handled Coleman very easily. It was like in the movies, almost choreographed it was so smooth, bang, bang, and it was over. Maxfield didn’t break a sweat.”

  Ashley lost color for a moment. She looked down and swallowed.

  “What is it?” Jerry asked, concerned.

  “I was remembering when…when I was attacked. In my house. I was overpowered easily, too. Maxfield was so efficient. The man who attacked me in the lot…” She shook her head.

  “You reacted quickly. You knocked him off balance. He probably wasn’t expecting that.”

  “I guess.”

  Jerry carried the sandwiches and two glasses of soda to the table and sat down.

  “Do you have any reason to doubt that Joshua Maxfield murdered your parents and attacked you in the Academy dorm?”

  Ashley thought before answering.

  “I never saw his face in my house or in the dorm, but I definitely saw him in the boathouse. And he wrote that novel where the killer eats before he murders the teenage daughter. How could he possibly know that happened at my house?”

  “So, there you are. If he tried to kill you several times before, why would he suddenly save your life today?”

  Ashley was about to take a bite out of her sandwich when an idea occurred to her.

  “Would Coleman benefit if I died?” she asked.

  Jerry thought about that. “With you out of the picture there would be one less person trying to be appointed Casey’s guardian and conservator.”

  “Miles would still be opposing him.”

  “Yes, but he and Miles want the same thing, even if Randy claims otherwise.”

  “What’s that?”

  “They both want to take Casey off life support.”

  “But Randy’s attorney said…”

  “I know what he said but I don’t believe it. Casey doesn’t have a will and she has a large estate. If she dies intestate Coleman will get a lot of it because they’re still married. He may say he wants to keep her alive but I bet he’d change his tune in a minute if he’s appointed her guardian. You’re the only one who’s dedicated to keeping Casey alive.”

  Ashley stared across the table at Jerry. She felt frightened.

  “You just said that Coleman would get ‘a lot of’ Casey’s estate. Does that mean he doesn’t get it all, even though she doesn’t have a will?”

  Jerry colored. “He wouldn’t be the only heir.”

  “Would I get any of Casey’s money if she died?”

  Ashley watched Jerry carefully as she asked the question. He hesitated. She thought he looked uncomfortable.

  “Am I an heir, Jerry?”

  “You’re her only surviving issue and Coleman isn’t your father. Under the statutes, you’d be entitled to one half of her estate.”

  Ashley stared at Jerry. “That’s twenty million dollars.”

  “Somewhere in there.”

  “And Coleman gets it all if I’m dead?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, my God.” Ashley stood up. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered nervously. “I guess the point was to keep Casey alive-that’s why Henry hired me-so I didn’t think about telling you what would happen if she died.”

  “You shouldn’t have kept this from me. It changes everything. Everyone will think I’m after her money. That’s what the newspaper said, that I was battling for the forty million dollars.”

  “You’re battling to keep your mother alive.”

  “It’s too much responsibility. I can’t do this.”

  Jerry walked around the table until they were standing inches apart. He put his hands on her shoulders.

  “You have to, Ashley. Miles and Coleman will do everything in their power to take Casey off life support.”

  Suddenly, Ashley was angry. “What makes you think I don’t want her dead, now that I know how much I’ll inherit? Is that why you didn’t tell me about the money?”

  Jerry looked directly into Ashley’s eyes while he answered.

  “I believe that you are a good, moral person. If I thought that you would let Casey Van Meter die so you could inherit her money I wouldn’t have agreed to find you.”

  Ashley looked down. She was embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have said that. You’ve always been so good to me.”

  “You’ve been through hell. You deserve to be treated with respect.”

  Ashley looked at Jerry and he held her gaze. He was so decent. He’d been a rock for her. Before Jerry could say anything, she kissed him. He tensed. Then he tried to say something.

  “No,” she said and she kissed him again, holding him tight, like a survivor clinging to a life raft. Jerry took her in his arms and held her just as tight.

  “This isn’t right,” he said, though everything he’d just done contradicted his words. “I’m your attorney
. You’re vulnerable.”

  “I’m twenty-two, Jerry. I’m a virgin.” The admission embarrassed Philips but Ashley’s voice was strong. “I’ve been so afraid all these years that I haven’t let myself get close to anyone. Now I want to start being human again.”

  “I’m the wrong person, Ashley. You’ve come to depend on me. That’s not love.”

  “Are you telling me that you don’t want me?”

  He looked down and swallowed. “It doesn’t matter how I feel. I’m your attorney.”

  “The way you feel matters to me. You tell me you don’t care about me and we’ll stop now.”

  “I do care for you. You’re strong and smart, you’re a good person, and you’re beautiful. But that doesn’t matter. There are ethics rules that prohibit a lawyer from…from taking advantage of…”

  “You’re not taking advantage of me, and if the ethics rules are worrying you, I have a simple solution. You’re fired.”

  Jerry looked at her wide-eyed. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  Jerry laughed and shook his head. “You’re something.”

  “What’s it going to be?”

  “I’ve been fired before, but never because my client wanted to sleep with me.”

  “I don’t want you to sleep with me. I want you to make love to me.”

  Jerry was gentle and tender, but it was still painful when he entered her the first time. The second time she was tense, because she expected more pain, and she was relieved when all she felt was pleasure. The third time was wonderful. After they climaxed, they held each other for a while. Then Jerry kissed her forehead and lay beside her, breathing deeply.

  Ashley was slick with sweat and exhausted, but she felt completely at peace. Jerry laced his fingers with hers. She turned her head and watched his chest rise and fall in the pale light that filtered through the bedroom blinds. It was smooth-not fat but not muscular, either. Not at all like the male model bodies in the fashion magazines. She decided that having muscles wasn’t all that important when you were making love.