Harper Ross Legal Thrillers vol. 1-3

by Rachel Sinclair

  I GOT to the hearing on Heather’s staying with me, and Vince was there waiting for me. “You’re nuts,” he said, shaking his head. “Although I don’t see any reason to oppose your motion to take in your crazy client.”

  “Good. Since there’s not opposition, I would assume that the motion will go through.”

  “Yes, I would assume so. She has on an ankle bracelet, so she’s not really a flight risk at the moment, but, Harper, I would advise you to make sure that there’s an adult in your home at all times. You’re going to have to make sure that this adult knows that he or she will be responsible if Heather jumps.”

  “I have one. Her name is Sophia. She stays with my two girls while I’m working. I’ve already spoken with her about her new responsibility. She’s okay with it.”

  “Okay, then. Let’s go back and see the judge and see what he wants to do.”

  Vince and I went back into Judge Reiner’s chambers. He was waiting for us, and he shook his head when he saw me. “Harper Ross,” he said, “sit down.” He pointed at Vince. “You too. I want to get to the bottom of this here motion.”

  We both sat down, and Judge Reiner stared at me for a few minutes. Then he shook his head again. “What is this fool thing you’re doing, Harper? Taking in your client?” He opened a drawer in his desk, and brought out a vial of Tums. He then put the entire plastic vial up to his mouth and about five Tums went cascading into his jaw. “Are you crazy?”

  “No,” I told him. “I’m not. She’s in a man’s halfway house, which isn’t the best place for her.”

  “She’s going to be in a man’s big house, Harper, I can almost guarantee that. She better get used to being around a lot of big hairy men who want to make her their bitch, and the sooner she accepts that reality, the better. You’re just setting her up for a fall.”

  I took a deep breath. “With all due respect, your honor, I do not plan to lose this case, so I don’t plan for her to have to go to prison. Right now, it’s a fragile time for her.”

  “Harper,” Judge Reiner said, leaning forward. “You’ve been a defense attorney for long enough to know that most of these cases go south. Most of them do, you know that. You should be prepared that this one is going to go that way as well. You’re doing nothing for your client in trying to shelter her from that reality.”

  “It’s not a reality,” I said helplessly, knowing that he was probably right. Heather’s case was still a long-shot, which was the most frustrating thing in the world. I had all the evidence I needed to show what really happened, but getting that evidence in front of the jury was going to be impossible. “I’m going to win this case.”

  Judge Reiner rolled his eyes. “What about you, Vince? You okay with this?”

  “I haven’t any objections. I told Harper that she has to be sure that there’s a responsible adult at all times watching the defendant, and she assured me that that would be the case.”

  Judge Reiner shook his head. “Motion denied. Sorry, Harper, I know that you’re a do-gooder and everything, but your client needs to know, sooner or later, what’s she in for. Maybe you’re right, maybe you’re going to win your case, but I doubt it. I’ve read the file, Heather, and I don’t want to prejudge it, but I’m just going by statistics. You are statistically unlikely to win this case.”

  “Judge Reiner, with all due respect, it does sound like you’re prejudging this case.”

  “I told you, I’m not. I simply am being realistic. It would do well if you would be too.” He turned away from us. “Now, if you would excuse me, I have to get on my exercise machine before my next docket.” He was apparently referring to the elliptical trainer he had that was in the corner of the office.

  I left the chambers feeling defeated. Heather was going to be upset, but I was just as upset.

  Was Judge Reiner right? Was I denying reality? Did I really not have a chance?

  If that happened, it would be a huge miscarriage of justice.

  But it wouldn’t be the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last.

  I decided that I was going to have to somehow pursue the Louisa angle. If Axel was correct, she was the one who would have taken the butcher knife. There had to be some way that I could get that out of her. I didn’t know how, but I was going to have to figure that out.

  I headed back to the Church, calling Heather on the way from my car. “Heather,” I said when she picked up. “I’m so sorry. I just filed a motion with the court to allow you to stay with me, and he refused. I tried, though.”

  Heather was silent on the other end.

  “Heather?”

  “I gotta go,” she said, her voice breaking.

  At that, the line went dead.

  I felt awful for getting her hopes up. I knew that she hung up on me because she was probably crying. I made a mental note to go and visit her after I finished my visit with Louisa.

  I got to the compound and saw the guy at the guard’s station. He recognized me, of course, but he didn’t give me a hard time. “Go on in,” he said, sweeping his hand towards the grounds.

  “Thanks.” I guessed that the Reverend got the memo that I was going to be allowed on the grounds. After all, they didn’t want a lawsuit.

  I got to Louisa’s building and went on in.

  “Can I help you?” asked the receptionist as I went in.

  “Yes,” I said. “Is Louisa Garrison around?”

  I looked up and saw Louisa herself standing there, a cup of coffee in her hand. She lowered her head and motioned me to come into her office.

  She looked softer than the last time I saw her – she was wearing less makeup, and she was wearing slacks instead of a skirt. Her hair wasn’t up, and it wasn’t as blonde as it was before. Before it was more platinum, and now it was more of a honey blonde, with darker blonde and red highlights. Because she toned everything down, she looked younger to me than before and much prettier. I could see where, when she was a younger woman, she must have been quite a stunner.

  I followed her into her office.

  “Sit down,” she said, motioning to a chair in front of me.

  I sat down, wondering what was going on. Why was she suddenly being so accommodating?

  “Ms. Garrison,” I began. “I wanted to apologize for the way that I acted before when I was here. That wasn’t called-for, and I hope that you accept my apologies.”

  “That’s okay,” she said. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “Thank you,” I said, trying to be polite. I wasn’t a fan of coffee, for the most part, because I didn’t like the way that caffeine made me feel, but I knew enough about social interactions that it was best not to refuse.

  She poured the coffee. “I was expecting you,” she said. “Sooner or later.”

  “You were.” That phrase came out more like a statement than a question. I guess because I didn’t really question that she was expecting me to come back. I was quite sure that she knew what I was after.

  “I was. And I’ve been thinking, ever since you came to see me, what I was going to say to you.” She breathed hard. “Ms. Ross, have you ever felt like you were in a box with no air? Like you had restrictions around your soul? Like your body was surrounded by a tight rope that was strangling you, and you didn’t know what to do?” She narrowed her eyes as she looked at me, and then she nodded. “Yes, I think that you do.”

  She hit the nail on the head. Yes, I had been there. Where she was, how she was feeling, I had been there more times than I had cared to think about. For months at a time, I had exactly those feelings – the restrictions, the box with no air or light, the rope strangling me. Yes, I could relate more than she could ever imagine.

  “I broke free,” she said. “When I made the decision to…” She looked down at her desk. “Leave this church. This church was something that saved me, but I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s dark. Oppressive. It’s not where I want to be. Not where I need to be. I don’t know why I allowed it to control my life for far too long. I
’m happy that you’re here, because I know why you want to talk to me. If you didn’t come and talk to me, I would have talked to you.” Her hand was shaking. “I have what you need.”

  I nodded my head, wondering if she was talking what I thought she was talking about.

  “You do?”

  “Yes,” she said in a low voice. “I’ve been thinking about this for the past few months. Agonizing over it. I know what I did was wrong, and I want to make it right.”

  Just then, the Reverend appeared at her door. “Ms. Garrison,” he said. “I need to see you. In my office. Right now.” He glared at me and I felt the familiar chill run down my spine. I looked at my arm and saw the goose bumps roiling up and down my arm.

  “I have to go,” she said. “I’ll be in touch.”

  “Do you have my number?” I asked.

  “I do,” she whispered. “I’ll be in touch.”

  At that, she left her office.

  I wondered when I would see her again. I also wondered if she was talking about the butcher knife.

  I could suddenly seeing this case opening up, and I couldn’t be happier about it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  “Okay, Heather,” I said to her when I visited her again right after I came from Louisa’s office. “I think that things might be turning around in your case.”

  We were in her room, her roommates having been gone for the evening, as they all recently got a job working nights. I looked around, seeing that they were slobs, and I was surprised that the director of the halfway house put up with it. Nobody’s bed was made, and there were clothes everywhere on the floor. The room also had a peculiar smell to it – almost like rotten onions, but, I knew that the smell came from body odor.

  “In what way?” Heather looked disinterested. I knew that she wasn’t, but, rather, she was defeated. I was starting to see her spirit slipping away with every visit I made to her, and it was concerning me. I needed her to be mentally tough, but it seemed like she was getting weaker with every passing day.

  Her appearance was even lackluster. She didn’t bother to put on makeup that morning, and her feet were bare, which was jarring to me, because I always associated Heather with her high-heeled shit-kicking boots. She was wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt, and her long hair wasn’t combed. It was looking like she was giving up.

  “I got in touch with Louisa Garrison, and I think that she holds the key to the case. She didn’t say as much, because we got interrupted by the creepy Reverend, but I have a feeling that she knows where the butcher knife is. If we can get that, and show that she took it from the scene, that will go a long way towards proving to the jury that your mother was attacking you.”

  Heather rolled her eyes. “She ain’t gonna give it up,” she said. “Surely you know that.”

  “No, I don’t know that. I don’t know that at all. Listen, I met with her today, and she seemed very different than the first time I talked to her. It was almost like she had been living with a huge burden and she was finally free. I know what that feels like, and it’s liberating. I really do believe that I can count on her to do the right thing.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you persist in not seeing the truth about people? Why can’t you see that people are cruel, they’re heartless, and they don’t do the right thing? Not ever. And they certainly won’t do the right thing if that right thing means that their ass is gonna be fried. Louisa’s ass will be pan-fried if she cooperates with you. If she took that knife, she committed a crime, and she knows that she’s going to be sent up the river if she confesses. So she ain’t gonna confess. She gonna lie and scheme and continue on with her trifling ways and there ain’t nothing that you’re gonna do about it.”

  “You don’t know that.” I knew, deep down, that Heather was right. Louisa’s self-interest would be in continuing to hide the knife, assuming that she took it. I still thought that maybe her self-interest might be overridden by her sense of doing what was right. I knew, though, that most people wouldn’t do that at all. Most people would continue to hide and obfuscate, because they don’t want to put their neck on the line.

  I just hoped that Louisa’s sense of decency would out.

  “I do know that. I do. Now stop trying to get me to be positive about this case, when there’s nothing positive about it. Nothing. You can’t get things into evidence that should be in evidence, such as the fact that that church is queer as a three-dollar bill and just as fraudulent. It’s evil, that church, and it caused my mother to go bat-shit, and you can’t put that as evidence to a jury. That’s bullshit.” She bowed her head. “That’s bullshit. And it’s bullshit that you promised me that I could live with you. That you would take care of me. Yet I’m still here. I’m still here, and you’re there, living with your two little girls and probably have a man around, and I’m here. I’m here, and nobody has ever loved me, nobody has ever accepted me, and nobody ever will. Life isn’t fair, Harper. It never has been and it never will be.”

  I blinked my eyes. “Where is this coming from?”

  “What do you mean, where is this coming from? It’s coming from a lifetime of rejection. It’s coming from the fact that I’ve got no family and I’m probably going to spend the rest of my life in prison. It’s coming from the fact that ain’t nobody gonna ever not see me as anything but the freak that I am.”

  “Heather, I-“

  “Get out of here, Harper. You can’t help me. Nobody can help me. I might as well straight-up take that goddamned twenty year deal, because you’re not gonna win this case.” She glared at me, her right hand shaking, with her left hand nervously stroking her long hair.

  “Heather, you don’t want to take that deal. Not when I’m getting so close.”

  “You ain’t close to nothing. Tell that persecutor that I’ll take that goddamned deal.”

  “I won’t. Not until I talk to Louisa again and see what I can get out of her. She’s the key to this, I promise you. Just wait until I talk to her. Please.”

  “Okay. I’ll give you 24 hours. I hope that the persecutor’s offer is still valid. But I want this mother-fucking thing put to bed. Yesterday.”

  “Heather, what changed? You seem like you’ve just given up.”

  “I’ve finally faced reality, that’s all. Just finally faced reality.”

  I left, determined to go and see Louisa. I wasn’t going to lose this case.

  I wasn’t going to lose Heather.

  UNFORTUNATELY, something happened that I didn’t foresee. Although I probably should have.

  I went to the church the next day to see Louisa. I needed to follow-up on what she was trying to tell me.

  I got there and her office was cleaned out. Completely.

  “Where is Ms. Garrison?” I asked the receptionist.

  “She doesn’t work here anymore.”

  My heart plunged about thirty miles. “She doesn’t work here anymore. Can you please tell me where she went? Or how I can get ahold of her?”

  “I can’t tell you that,” she said. “That information is confidential.”

  My case was suddenly getting complicated again.

  To say the least.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  “Aunt Harper,” Rina said, coming into my room. “What’s going on? Why is Sophia still here? Why aren’t we having dinner together?”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said to Rina. “I really need to concentrate tonight. Something happened on Heather’s case. Something has happened, and if I don’t figure it out in 24 hours, a full-blown disaster is going to happen.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “There’s a witness that I need. She’s the key to the case. I’m pretty sure she is, anyhow. And she’s gone. She’s gone, and I don’t know where she is.” I snapped my fingers. “I got it. I’ll subpoena that crazy Reverend, put his ass under a deposition and make him tell me where she is.” Would that work? I doubted it. I was going to have to show that the Re
verend had information that would lead to hard evidence on my case, and, at the moment, I only had a hunch about Louisa being the key to my case. I didn’t know that for sure. Yes, I had her emails to…

  “I got it,” I said. “Why didn’t I think about this before?”

  I booted up Connie’s email, and promptly sent an email to Louisa. “Louisa,” my email read, “This is Harper Ross. I guess that you’re not working for the church anymore. I need to talk to you ASAP. Please contact me at Harperross@att.net. Or call me at 816-555-3940. Thank you.”

  I sent the email.

  And then groaned when I got the message telling me that the email didn’t go through.

  “What the hell?” I put my head on the desk. “I guess she doesn’t have that email anymore.”

  I looked up, and Rina was still standing there, staring at me.

  “Can I help you?” I asked her.

  “No. I just wanted to help. I’d like to at least watch you, Aunt Harper. I want to learn everything that you do.”

  I sighed. “Rina, I…” I shook my head. “All right, have a seat.” I patted the chair next to me.

  She beamed and sat next to me. “Thanks Aunt Harper.”

  “It’s okay. Where’s Abby?”

  “Watching TV with Sophia. I don’t think that she cares about this, but I do. Tell me what’s going on.”

  I sighed. “I’m close, Rina. Very close to cracking this case. Louisa Garrison, who had a job at the church that you went to with me, I think that she knows where the butcher knife is. And I went back to talk to her, but she’s not working there anymore. They won’t tell me where she’s gone, either. I could hope that she calls me, she said that she has my phone number, but why do I have the feeling that she doesn't? And I also have a feeling that her leaving the church wasn’t coincidental. I think that the crazy, murderous Reverend probably sent her to outer Siberia once he figured out that she was ready to jump.”