Private Lives

by Karen Young

  Gina’s shoulders fell as she turned back, gazing not at Ryan, but at her hands. “He was going to accuse me of irregularities in the handling of some of his clients’ matters. He specializes in estate law. He handles millions of dollars in other peoples’ assets. It would be easy to manipulate funds here and there.”

  “What exactly are you accusing my client of?”

  “Nothing, no. Only the threat of doing it. If I didn’t leave peacefully.” Gina pressed trembling fingers to her mouth. “In his position, it’s easy to move money around from one client’s portfolio to another without actually—”

  “Come on, Ms. D’Angelo. What you’re accusing my client of is a serious charge. In fact, some might call it slander.”

  “It isn’t slander if it’s true.” Gina’s tone rose with her agitation. “Do you think I’d walk out of a job where I’d worked for almost nine years if I didn’t have a compelling reason? Knowing Austin wanted to dump me and I’d be without a place to live? Knowing there’d be no way I could support Jesse? I don’t think so, Mr. Paxton,” she added bitterly.

  “But you do have a place to live,” Paxton argued. “Your best friend and Jesse’s godmother, Elizabeth Walker, has been only too eager to take you in. No, I think you orchestrated this whole scam, the abrupt resignation at LJ and B, the allegations of abuse and irregularities with the firm’s most valued clients, the threat of legal action against my client…all toward one end. You want a hefty financial settlement. You want a lot of money in return for walking out of his life.”

  “No, I—”

  “No more questions, Your Honor.” Ryan turned on his heel and strode to the table. Dropping into a chair, he didn’t look at Gina again, nor did he glance at his client. Instead, he flipped the folder shut, leaned back with his hand spread flat on the folder as if to guard the contents and gazed moodily out a window. If his goal had been to destroy Gina, Elizabeth thought, studying the set look of his features, he’d succeeded. But he didn’t look like a man who was pleased with his success.

  “You may step down, Ms. D’Angelo,” the judge said. And as Gina rose unsteadily, Maude Kennedy stood up.

  “I have one more question, if Your Honor would allow it?” She raised pencil-thin eyebrows in question. The judge nodded and motioned Gina back into the chair.

  “How much money are you requesting from Austin Leggett, Gina?”

  “Two thousand dollars a month,” Gina replied. “And for child support only, nothing more. Jesse will stay in the school where she’s presently enrolled in kindergarten. One thousand will pay her tuition and the other will be placed in trust for her to go to college.”

  Maude Kennedy looked at the judge. “That’s all, Your Honor. Thank you.”

  “Step down, Ms. D’Angelo,” the judge ordered. As Gina rose and left the witness box, he studied a paper in an open folder in front of him. “You want to call your first character witness, Ms. Kennedy?”

  Still standing, Maude said, “There is only one witness, Your Honor. We have a deposition in lieu of testimony from the second witness, Louis Christian. He is presently at Elizabeth Walker’s residence taking care of Jesse. As you’ll see once you’ve read the deposition, Mr. Christian is not a blood relation to Jesse, but he could very well be her grandfather. He sees her daily. They’re very close.”

  “Then call the witness who has shown up, counselor,” the judge replied. He removed his glasses and rubbed both eyes with thumb and forefinger as if his patience was at an end. Her face carefully blank, Maude nodded to the bailiff.

  “Elizabeth Walker,” the bailiff intoned.

  Elizabeth was already on her feet. She approached the gate in the bar separating spectators in the courtroom from the players and slipped through it, made her way past the two lawyers’ tables to the witness box and turned to take an oath to tell the truth. She was nervous. None of her experience in courtrooms had been pleasant, but this wasn’t about her, she told herself, taking her seat gingerly. It was about Jesse. Gina. Their future.

  Maude seemed to sense her apprehension and gave her a reassuring smile as she asked her address and occupation. Then, “How long have you known Gina D’Angelo?”

  “Since we were both five years old.”

  “You’re not related?” Maude asked, knowing the answer.

  Elizabeth smiled faintly. “Not by blood, no. But we sometimes feel as if we’re related. Sisters almost.” She took a small breath. “We were both wards of the state when we were orphaned at age five. As luck would have it, we were in the same foster homes off and on during our teenage years.”

  “That explains your willingness to share your home with Gina now.”

  “In a way, I guess. Actually, we’re no different from biological sisters who see a lot of each other,” Elizabeth said, feeling more at ease. Maybe this would be more positive than she had thought. “We live in the same city, we share holidays, lunch, we shop together, we share gossip and clothes. I was at Gina’s bedside when Jesse was born. In fact, I was her birthing coach. So now that she’s in difficulty, it’s very natural to have her move in with me until she’s on her feet again.”

  “Why wasn’t Mr. Leggett Gina’s birthing coach?”

  “He said he didn’t have time.”

  “Where was he when Jesse was born?”

  “In Europe. On one of the many excursions he took without Gina,” she added dryly.

  “How would you characterize Gina? In a few words.”

  “She’s loving, smart, honest, impulsive, funny. Jesse adores her. She’s everything a sister and best friend should be. My life would not be nearly as rich without Gina.”

  “Thank you, Elizabeth.”

  The moment she feared was upon her. She tried to blank the apprehension from her mind. And the utterly irrelevant thoughts she’d had about Ryan Paxton as he’d questioned Gina. It was her turn now and Jesse’s life was in the balance.

  Ryan was speaking as he got up from his chair. “You’ve been very supportive to Gina for many years, haven’t you, Ms. Walker?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve bailed her out of trouble countless times.”

  “She’s never been in serious trouble.”

  “Did you co-sign for her to get a credit card when she couldn’t get one on her own?”

  “Yes, but that was years ago.”

  “Did you pay her tuition when she trained to become a paralegal?”

  “Yes.”

  “Were you her tutor in high school when she almost didn’t qualify to graduate?”

  “She…she had some unpleasant experiences while we were in foster care.”

  “Did you have some unpleasant experiences, too?”

  “Foster care isn’t an ideal situation for anybody,” Elizabeth answered dryly.

  “And yet you didn’t require a tutor?”

  “Well…”

  “And you weren’t in trouble with school authorities?”

  “I—”

  “Yes or no, please, Ms. Walker,” Ryan said.

  “No.”

  “Tell us more about yourself today, Ms. Walker. You’re an author?”

  “Yes. I write books for children.”

  “And very successfully, too, according to the recent article in the Chronicle.”

  “I’ve been lucky.”

  “I actually read one of your books last night, the award-winning book. I wouldn’t say it was luck that won you the Newbery, Ms. Walker. That book was very clever, whimsical and fun while delivering a very solid message.”

  “A moral message. I try to do that in each of my books.”

  “It was about a little girl’s difficulties with her school friends—what was her name?”

  “Jasmine.”

  “Jasmine. Because her mother had chosen an…ah, alternate lifestyle. The other kids found that odd and weren’t shy about saying so.”

  “Children can be hurtful.”

  “The main character—Sophia, was it?—befriended Ja
smine. Came to her defense at school. Sort of fixed everything for Jasmine, but got in some hot water herself for doing it.”

  “I tried to show how courageous behavior can be rewarding, but you may have to pay a price.”

  “What price will you have to pay for your courage in defending your friend Gina today?”

  “Price?” Elizabeth frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “The article about you in the Chronicle made clear your aversion to publicity, Ms. Walker. You’re almost a recluse. A hearing such as this is bound to stir up more unwelcome interest in you.”

  “With all due respect, Mr. Paxton, I don’t think the media can have much interest in me.”

  “I did a bit of research into your background after reading that article.”

  Elizabeth felt her heart bump into a faster rhythm. Maude rose. “Objection, Your Honor. Ms. Walker isn’t on trial here today. If Mr. Paxton has a question, let him ask it.”

  With eyes locked on Elizabeth’s, Ryan said, “No one’s on trial here today, Your Honor. I’m within safe legal grounds to question the credibility of Gina D’Angelo’s character witnesses.”

  “Overruled,” the judge said. “But ask a question, counselor.”

  “Are you comfortable knowing the media is in the courtroom, Ms. D’Angelo?”

  Elizabeth glanced beyond him to the sparse gathering of people seated in the spectator area. Several onlookers met her eyes, three women and half a dozen men were scattered here and there. A group of twentysomethings looked on with interest, possibly law school students. “I have no interest in the media,” Elizabeth said quietly.

  “Not even if someone were to question your lifestyle?”

  “Question my lifestyle?” She frowned. “In what way?”

  “You and Gina are very close. You said as much and so did Gina. Exactly how close are you, Ms. Walker? Would you describe your relationship as intimate?”

  “Objection, Your Honor!” Maude said fiercely, surging to her feet.

  “Sustained. Move on, Mr. Paxton,” the judge said, looking mildly irritated.

  “How do you come up with ideas for your books, Ms. Walker?”

  “As most authors,” Elizabeth began, struggling to control the angry tremor in her voice, “I’m an observer of human nature. I read newspapers. I watch television. I read.”

  “The kid in your book is named Jasmine. That’s very close to Jesse. Was there some connection there?”

  Again Maude Kennedy jumped to her feet. “Your honor, I object! Mr. Paxton’s insinuations are scurrilous and have no foundation in fact.”

  “Withdrawn, Your Honor,” Ryan said, unfazed. Going to the defendant’s table, he picked up his notes. “December 24, 2000. Does that date mean anything to you?”

  “Christmas Eve?” Elizabeth guessed, but, again, her heart was beating fast.

  “A couple of years ago,” Ryan acknowledged, nodding. “Tell us what happened that night.”

  “What happens to anyone on Christmas Eve,” Elizabeth replied. “It depends on your family traditions. My Christmases are usually very quiet.”

  “But not that year, right? Didn’t the cops ring your doorbell sometime after midnight? You’d gone to bed, I believe.”

  “Your honor,” Maude Kennedy said, “if Mr. Paxton has anything of substance to add to this hearing, would he please get on with it?”

  Ryan faced the judge. “This is a hearing about Gina D’Angelo’s suitability to gain custody of a five-year-old child. The facts I’m about to elicit from this witness will cast grave doubt on Ms. D’Angelo’s character.”

  “Again,” the judge intoned, “I want you to get on with it, Mr. Paxton. There’s no place in my courtroom for grandstanding.”

  “Understood.” Ryan turned back to Elizabeth. “Where were we, Ms. Walker? Oh, yes. Midnight. Your front door. Cops ringing the doorbell. What was that all about?”

  “Gina had been in an accident. She was—”

  “Drunk?”

  “It’s not the way you make it sound.” Elizabeth’s tone was soft, pained. “Gina and Austin had been at a party. They had a quarrel in front of the other guests. They’d both been drinking. Everybody at the party was drinking, but—”

  “But nobody else stormed out into the night—by the way, it was raining. A downpour. To be more specific, one of our torrential Houston storms. But that didn’t deter Gina as she spun out into the street in Austin’s eighty-five thousand dollar Porsche, did it?”

  “She knew if she got into the car with him he’d become violent,” Elizabeth said fiercely. “He’d done it before.”

  “Well, we have only your speculation about that, don’t we?” Ryan said, giving the judge a droll look. “What we know happened was that she ran onto a neighbor’s curb, knocked down a mailbox, bogged down in a planting of sago palms and incurred substantial damage to the Porsche.”

  “She had to swerve onto the curb to avoid hitting a cat that darted in front of the car!” Elizabeth cried.

  “A cat. In the rain. In a neighborhood with stringent leash restrictions on all animals. Even cats.”

  “Maybe it was a possum,” Elizabeth said, knowing she was being baited. Still, she was doggedly determined to defend Gina. “Maybe it was a raccoon. There’s a stream running behind those houses. Animals are common.”

  “Critters, huh?”

  “Was that a question, Your Honor?” Maude inquired with disgust.

  Striding away, Ryan tossed the notes onto his table and sat down. “I’m finished with this witness, Judge.”

  Elizabeth turned in her chair to look at the judge. “Austin would have hurt her that night, Your Honor. That’s why she took the car. And he would have hurt her even worse if she’d asked a guest at the party to help her. That would have revealed the trouble in their relationship. It would have made public Austin’s cruelty.”

  “Your honor—” Ryan was on his feet.

  “That’s enough, Ms. Walker. Step down, please.” The judge drew in a deep breath. “Let’s recess for lunch, folks. We’ll resume at two o’clock.” Banging his gavel, he rose impatiently, striding out of the courtroom in the billowing folds of his robe, slamming the door behind him.

  It was a subdued trio who were seated for lunch in a restaurant near the courthouse half an hour later. “I’m sorry, Gina. I made a mess of that.” Elizabeth rubbed at her temples, eyes closed, but unable to banish Ryan Paxton’s smug expression from her mind. If only she’d been more clever, faster on the uptake on the stand. Instead, she’d been pathetically inept in Paxton’s skillful hands. “You were right about Paxton. He’s tough.”

  “Worse yet, I think the judge is on Austin’s side,” Gina said, gazing morosely into a glass of iced tea. “His body language during the entire morning says it all.”

  “Not all. The game isn’t over, ladies.” With reading glasses resting at half-mast on her aristocratic nose, Maude Kennedy studied the menu. “It’s never possible to predict a judge’s ruling. Has anyone tried the trout amandine?”

  “How can you have an appetite, Maude?” Gina exclaimed. “I’m never going to eat again.”

  “Of course, you are.” Maude looked at them both. “How about a cup of crab bisque and that old standby, a Caesar salad?”

  “I’ll just have the bisque,” Elizabeth said, laying down her menu.

  “Did you see the way he slammed the door of his chambers when he left?” Gina asked, clearly still focused on the judge.

  “I repeat, judges are unpredictable.” Maude paused and motioned a waiter over. “And whether he may have seemed so or not, Judge Hetherington has a reputation for fairness. He’s tough, even a bit chauvinistic, but when it comes to the welfare of a child, he’ll be very careful.” She removed her glasses and looked at Elizabeth. “By the way, Elizabeth, you didn’t mess up on the stand. Your reputation and demeanor go far in adding credibility to your testimony. Judge Hetherington won’t dismiss lightly the fact that you’ve actually seen Gina bruised and hurt
ing.”

  “Even though he thinks we’re two lesbians?” Elizabeth said bitterly.

  “That was below the belt,” Maude conceded. “I was surprised at Paxton.”

  “A barracuda,” Gina repeated. “Didn’t I say it?”

  “I have to think the lie originated with his client,” Maude said.

  “Austin knows that’s pure garbage!” Gina said. “I knew he’d play dirty, but I didn’t expect him to go that far.” She crushed a roll in her fingers. “But the worst thing was dredging up that old drunk driving charge.”

  “I believe Judge Hetherington heard Elizabeth’s explanation even though he had to silence her,” Maude said, taking a sip of water. “Let’s order, ladies. I’m famished.”

  “I hope the worst is over.” Elizabeth leaned her head back against the leather padding in the restaurant booth and closed her eyes. They were due to return after lunch at two o’clock, but after being subjected to Ryan Paxton’s ruthlessness, she wanted nothing more than to go home, close up in her office and turn on her computer where she could enter a safe and idealistic world, a world he’d described as whimsical, somehow making the word sound weird.

  “Remember, Ryan Paxton is used to winning,” Maude Kennedy said, “but there is enough substance in both your testimonies that I have hope the judge will not rule in Austin’s favor.”

  After taking their orders, the waiter collected the menus and hurried away. “What was that about media?” Elizabeth asked, frowning. “Was the reporter who did that feature on me lurking around?”

  “He wasn’t in the courtroom,” Gina said. “I looked.”

  Maude broke open a roll and buttered it lavishly. “There are always reporters assigned to the courthouse beat, but they seldom have an interest in custody hearings unless the people involved are in the public eye. As much as Austin might fancy being in the public eye, he isn’t. No, I think Ryan was just trying to rattle your cage, Elizabeth. Trust me, you did very well up there. Your sincerity shone through.” She smiled at them both. “I, for one, find the friendship between you heartwarming.”

  “Excuse me…” A woman, smiling slightly, stopped at the booth.

  “Yes?” Maude said, her thinly penciled brows going up. But it wasn’t Maude the woman’s gazed fixed on. It was Elizabeth.