by Kate Collins
“When you go for your initial hearing, you have to tell the judge you don’t like the lawyer your husband hired and ask for one of your own choice.” I glanced at the time: I had fifteen more minutes. “Why did your husband ask you to check on his father?”
“Because no one else was available. Our staff consists of two housekeepers and a cook, none of whom were around then. It didn’t seem out of the ordinary for him to say, ‘Lila, would you check on Dad? He hasn’t been down for breakfast and he’s usually here before I am,’ or words to that effect.”
“Describe what happened when you found him.” I readied my pen.
“First I knocked on the door to his suite and called his name. When I didn’t hear anything, I peered into the bedroom. The bathroom door was closed, and I noticed that his bed hadn’t been slept in, so I knew something was up. I knocked on the bathroom door and when he didn’t answer I looked in, saw him floating”—she made a face and shuddered—“and ran downstairs to get Grayson.”
I wrote it down. “You didn’t call 911 first?”
“I was in a panic. I couldn’t think what to do.”
“Here’s something that puzzles me. Grayson gave two statements to the press with different accounts of how he found Harry’s body. When I interviewed him, however, he admitted that you’d actually found Harry, and that, because you’d also found his father’s body, he didn’t want the police to connect you with their deaths.”
“Wasn’t that gallant of him?” She shook her head in disgust. “I actually thought for once he was trying to protect me.”
“He also told me you had given him two different accounts of the position of Harry’s body.”
With her teeth pressed tightly together she muttered a swear word. “I told him exactly what I saw. Harry was sitting in my father-in-law’s chair with his face down on the desk, as if he’d just collapsed forward.”
“Not lying on the floor on his back with a receipt in his hands?”
“Absolutely not. His arms were limp at his sides. Why in hell would he need to lie about me changing my story?”
Picking up my notepad I said, “I asked him why, and I’ll read his exact words. ‘Finding both bodies was too much for her mind, which was fragile to start with, even before my father emotionally abused her. I’ll forever blame myself for not putting a stop to it. But the truth was, he had us both on tight leashes.’ ”
Lila stared in openmouthed surprise. “I have a fragile mind?” She squeezed the counter’s edge so hard that her knuckles turned white. “I would never have been able to live in that house if I wasn’t tough. And as far as Grayson being on a tight leash, what a laugh. He was beyond spoiled. And that’s why he was furious when his dad pulled the plug on the condo project. That was going to be his baby, his income, and Daddy changed his mind because something actually caused that ice cold Grinch’s heart to melt a little.”
After writing down her answer I asked, “Do you know what changed his mind?”
“All I know is that after my father-in-law attended one of your GMA meetings, his last one, actually, he and Harry had a private meeting about it, and Grayson wasn’t invited.”
“How do you know their meeting was about the condo project?”
“Because Grayson ranted about it all day. I finally said, ‘Tell your father how you feel and leave me out of it.’ ” She huffed louder. “Fragile mind, my ass.”
“How soon after that did your father-in-law drown?”
“Two days later.”
After noting it, I glanced at my list and then at my watch. My thirty minutes were almost up but I still had a few more questions. “I want to read you one more statement your husband made about you. And I’m quoting him again. ‘She was the last one to see my father alive and the first to find him dead, and that does make one wonder at times.’ ”
Lila hit her fist on the counter again. “See how that S.O.B. is setting me up?”
“Five minutes,” the officer announced from behind me.
“What I don’t understand is that if you have an ironclad prenuptial agreement, Sonny—I’m sorry, Grayson—could have simply divorced you.”
“Actually, I found out our prenup isn’t ironclad after all. A friend of mine told me she got hers broken by a good divorce attorney, so I told Grayson I was going to file for divorce in a different county. He hit the roof, insisting there was no way he was going to split his assets with me.”
“When was that?”
“About a month ago.” She sat back shaking her head in disbelief. “I knew I shouldn’t go check on Harry and yet I did because Grayson said he was at the office already, which was another lie.”
I wasn’t thoroughly convinced Lila hadn’t played a part in at least one of the murders, so I decided to test her. “You’re going to have to tell your defense attorney everything you’ve told me. He’ll hire a private investigator to check your facts, so you’ll have to be accurate.”
She wasn’t rattled at all. In fact, for the first time since she came into the room, I saw signs of the old Lila. With a coy smile she said, “Oh, I’ve got plenty of information for the investigator. I can’t wait to see Grayson’s face when he gets those divorce papers.”
“Time to go,” the officer called to me.
“One more minute,” I said. Turning back to Lila, I asked, “Do you have anything that would throw suspicion back on him?”
Lila looked up, thinking, then said, “I know Grayson has a lot of pull with the police chief because he and my husband golf together at the country club frequently. I believe Grayson paid the chief’s membership dues, too. Same with some of the county councilmen. I’m sure his influence extends further up the ladder than that, but I don’t know how far.”
“That could be deemed bribery. How about the coroner, Dr. Kirkland? I know he lied about prescribing you sleeping pills.”
I stopped talking as the door opened on her side and a female inmate was brought in and seated next to her. A minute later, the officer let in a man on my side who sat across from her. With a whole row of chairs vacant, I knew instantly that they were placed there for a reason.
As they began to talk, I whispered to Lila, “Be careful. That woman could be a jail snitch.”
She whispered back, “She’s my cellmate.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“Let’s go,” the officer said sternly to me. “Her attorney is waiting to see her.”
So Kevin was waiting outside, was he? I leaned closer to the speaker so our neighbors wouldn’t hear me and said softly, “Don’t talk to your cellmate about anything connected with the murders, got it?”
She nodded, then whispered, “What about the lawyer Grayson hired?”
“Don’t give him any information, either. Tell him you’re getting your own attorney and do not let Grayson bully you into believing you can’t do that.”
The two people next to us weren’t saying a word. I gave them a sidelong glance and saw that they were both sitting at angles so that they could see as well as hear us. I glanced toward the man, but he didn’t look away. “Can I help you?”
He turned and locked eyes with his partner on the other side. I gave Lila a last look—hoping everything we’d discussed had resonated—then rose and went out the door.
Down the hallway Kevin was standing before a metal detector, briefcase in hand, looking sophisticated in a new navy suit, white shirt, and red, blue, and white print tie.
Fuming with anger, I strode straight toward him. “Look who’s here. The traitor. I don’t know how you face yourself in the mirror, Kevin.”
At that moment the female officer brought Lila around the corner, halting Kevin’s reply. The officer opened a door to let Lila inside, allowing a view of a small conference room. Closing the door, she said, “Your client is ready, sir.”
“I’ll be right in.” He pointed an index finger at me and said quietly, “We need to talk.”
“Yes, we do. I’d love to hear how you were able to turn a
gainst your own people.”
“Just remember I’m not the only traitor here.”
He walked into the room and shut the door firmly behind him, leaving me staring in bewilderment. The officer was watching me, so I turned and walked up the hallway to the exit, retrieved my belongings, and stepped outside. I took a breath of fresh air to clear my head, but it didn’t help. My mind was spinning. Why had he called me a traitor?
I got into my car and drove to a parking lot close to the marina, then texted Case: I’m coming aboard. Make some tea for me.
I walked briskly along the boardwalk to the last pier, then hopped across to the Páme and opened the door to go below. “I’m here,” I called.
“Come on down. Your tea is brewing.”
I went down the steps, dropped my purse on the small sofa, and pulled out a chair at the table. As I sank into it, Case placed a mug of hot tea in front of me, the bag still in it. “That must have been some interview.”
“The interview actually went well. Then I ran into Kevin.”
“Ah. Now I understand the need for tea.”
I picked up the mug with both hands and took a soothing sip. Case pulled out the chair opposite me and sat down, resting his chin in his hand as he studied me. He was so different than pudgy-faced, self-centered Kevin I wanted to hug him. My thoughts flashed back to what Kevin had called me, and I got angry all over again.
“Tell me about it. Was it a showdown? Did you pull your six-shooter on him?”
“The other way around. After I told him he was a traitor to his people, he said I was a traitor, too, and then he left me hanging. How am I a traitor?”
“That’s why you’re upset? Athena, he’s acting like a little kid firing back with the first thing that comes to mind.” Case reached across the table and put his hands over mine. “Think of it this way. You’re free of Kevin now.”
I glanced at his big strong hands and felt a wave of affection flow through me. Instead of recoiling from him in a pure gut reaction, I let his hands stay and placed my other hand on his. He must have felt something, too, because a smile spread across his face and his eyes softened. But a moment later he pulled his hands away and sat back as though nothing had happened.
What had just happened? Had Case suddenly realized that there wasn’t anyone holding me back now? Did he feel as though he had to move our relationship forward? Was that why he was so quick to take his hand away?
Stretching out his legs and folding his arms, he asked, “What’s your assessment of Lila?”
I took another soothing sip of tea, forcing my brain to shift the focus from our relationship onto important matters. “She was completely forthcoming with the events that led to both murders.”
“I’m glad you two had a frank talk, but if you went into the meeting with the mindset that Sonny is guilty, she probably sensed it and played on your sympathies.”
“She could have but I don’t think she did. It was clear to me that Lila has been put in a compromising position. She’s never had to take sleeping pills, and she checked on both men only because Sonny asked her to. She said that he’s been angry ever since she told him their prenup was breakable and she intended to file for divorce. She’s furious about him hiring Kevin to represent her, too. Which reminds me, I have to find her the name of a good defense attorney from out of town.”
“No matter what you believe about Sonny’s role in the murders, Athena, Lila hasn’t been absolved yet.”
“Believe me, I kept that in mind. It just seems that everything is playing out in Sonny’s favor, almost as though he’d scripted it.” I glanced at my watch, then finished my tea and stood up, stuffing my notepad back in my purse. “I’ve got to get back to Spencer’s. I said I’d be gone an hour and I’ll just make it.”
He got up and walked me to the upper deck. “What’s next on our agenda?”
“I’m hoping Bob Maguire will have some information on that black SUV by tomorrow. And I have to be at the GMA meeting at Spencer’s at eight. That means I need to leave work by six so I have time to spend with my son before the meeting.”
My phone dinged with an incoming text. It was from my sister Selene.
Sonny moved up the demolition date. The bulldozers are going to start the day after tomorrow.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I stared at the text in horror, then showed it to Case. “What are we going to do?”
“We’ll have to find an attorney today.”
“Case, it’ll take days to get an appointment and I have to find someone who’s out of town to be sure there’s no Talbot influence.”
“Well”—he paused—“you could always gather the GMA members to form a human barricade in front of their shops.”
“I’m serious, Case.”
“So am I.”
I texted Selene back: Do Yiayiá and Pappoús know?
Selene: They got a notice saying to get the diner cleared out tomorrow.
Athena: Dad and Mom?
Selene: They know, too. Family meeting at the diner tonight after your GMA meeting to discuss plans. Poor Yiayiá and Pappoús are in a panic.
I could only imagine. I texted her that I’d talk to her later, put my phone away, and dropped my head in my hands. How were we going to stop Sonny?
“I’ll bet that human barricade is looking better and better,” Case said.
“There’s a meeting tonight. Maybe someone will have another idea.”
“I’d like to be there.”
I studied him for a moment. He definitely looked Greek enough, but he was still a stranger. “The only way it’ll work is if you slip in through the back gate after the meeting starts and stay out of sight.”
He gave me a nod, but the little smile that flickered momentarily concerned me.
* * *
I left Spencer’s at six and made good old hamburgers and French fries for Nicholas and myself, a mouth-watering change from the Greek food at the diner we normally had. We talked about school and a girl who he shyly admitted liked him. Then we cleaned up the kitchen together and started on his homework.
Maia came home at seven and Selene at seven thirty, so I had a chance to freshen up before heading back for the meeting. I took my car because of the threat of a thunderstorm, and as I drove up Pine Avenue toward Greene Street, I saw an army of bulldozers and earth-movers along the curb, ready to turn Little Greece into rubble.
I parked in the lane behind Spencer’s and sat for a moment. Through the blowing tree branches and the swaying Chinese lanterns that outlined the patio area, I could see my statue of Athena standing tall and proud among the gathering. This meeting was our last chance to put our heads together to figure out a way to stop the madness. For the first time I felt like the Goddess Athena, strong in my convictions and ready to take on those bulldozers myself. The nerve endings in my muscles twitched at the thought of fighting Sonny—to the bitter end if I had to.
But the energy inside the enclosed garden area was not the same as mine. As I joined my family at the table in front, I could feel a sense of defeat among the members. I was surprised to see Marie Odem there, looking much older than her sixty-five years, her life’s work about to be in ruins. Donald Fatsis, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen. What a surprise.
My father opened the meeting by making sure everyone had received Sonny’s notice. My friend Nancy, the owner of Downtown Shabby, stood up and said, “I walked past Don Fatsis’s art gallery and it was already empty.”
“That’s not surprising,” Barb said, “considering that he was working with Talbot.”
“He left town,” someone called. “I saw a moving van in front of his house yesterday.”
That started an angry, noisy discussion until my father rapped his gavel on the table.
“We need to work together to get everyone’s place of business emptied out. Do I have a volunteer to call truck rental agencies first thing in the morning? We’re going to need every truck and all the manpower we can get.”
Wait, I wanted to call out, we can’t give up the fight yet. Surely someone has another idea. But they were so busy making plans to move that my voice would’ve been lost in the hubbub. And no one seemed to remember that they were letting Sonny Talbot win. I didn’t know what to do to stop them.
“I’ll get as many trucks lined up as I can,” my mother said.
“Some of us have vans and pickups,” one man called.
“My son owns a moving van company in South Bend,” a woman said. “I’ll ask him to send trucks and men.”
Out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of Case by the back gate. Oddly, instead of feeling panic at him being there, I felt a sense of calm. He nodded his head toward the statue of Athena, and as I looked over at her, my warrior spirit began to emerge once again.
“Pops, I want to say something,” I said, and climbed onto a bench as he rapped his gavel to get everyone’s attention.
“You’ve been meeting for months to stop the destruction of Little Greece,” I began, “and with one paper notice, you’re ready to give up? Are you going to let a bully drive you out of the shops you’ve put every hard-working dime into? You all know that Talbot Senior canceled this project because he saw the good in Little Greece. The only reason his son can go through with it now is because of his father’s untimely death and your willingness to give up without a fight.”
I let that sink in, watching as people shuffled their feet, looked down in shame, whispered to their neighbors, then finally began to get angry about the situation, and then I said, “Who wins this battle? Will it be us? Or Emperor Talbot?”
“But what else can we do?” Marie called.
“Doesn’t anyone here have a son or daughter who’s an attorney?” I asked.
“My son moved away,” someone replied.
“So did mine,” another added.
“Have you called to ask them for advice?” I asked. “We were warned several weeks ago that Talbot Junior was going ahead with the plans. What have you done to stop him?”
There was a general mumbling in the crowd, no one willing to admit that I was the only one who had tried to find help by enlisting Kevin. Finally, one man raised his hand. “My son is an attorney in Detroit, if that will do any good. I can call him.”