Accused

by Lisa Scottoline

  “Hi, Mary!” Marshall called out with a smile, her usually cheery self even at the end of the day. “Hey, where’s your ring?”

  “Getting resized.”

  “Gonna make it smaller?”

  “Yes.”

  “I meant the stone.”

  “Very funny.” Mary reached the reception desk, checking the clock. It was 4:50, which gave her just enough time to meet with Lou, then get back to South Philly for El Virus’s birthday party. “How was today? Busy?”

  “Not too. Here’s your mail.” Marshall handed her a thick packet of letters and professional magazines. “Bennie and Anne won, and you missed the pizza party.”

  “Rats. Where’s Judy?” Mary asked reflexively, then realized it wasn’t supposed to matter where Judy was.

  “She’s at a client’s. She had four pieces of pizza. A new world record.”

  Mary smiled. Judy’s carbohydrate intake was a matter of legend. “Her brain burns calories.”

  “She said she’s not on Gardner anymore, but didn’t say why. What happened?”

  “Nothing. We decided the case didn’t require the both of us.”

  Marshall leaned over the desk. “Between us, she seems bummed.”

  “Really.” Mary felt a guilty pang. “Thanks for letting me know. So where’s everybody else?”

  “Bennie’s in her office, Anne’s at a deposition, Lou’s waiting for you in the conference room, and I’m almost out of here. Good night.”

  “Thanks for everything. Good night.” Mary headed for the conference room glancing through her mail. It could all wait until tomorrow, mainly because it would have to. She stopped into her office, dumped her mail, keys, purse, and messenger bag on the chair, then went back out and hurried down the hall to the conference room, where Lou was talking to Bennie, both of whom fell silent when she appeared. They looked over, Lou wearily but Bennie revitalized, undoubtedly because of her victory. Mary would’ve hugged her, but Bennie wasn’t the huggy type. “Hi, gang. Bennie, congratulations on your win. Way to go!”

  “Thanks.” Bennie beamed, hoisting her purse and a black nylon gym bag to her shoulder. “It was awesome. Sorry you missed the party. Carrier wrapped up some leftover pizza for you. It’s in the refrigerator.”

  Mary felt another guilty pang, probably her three hundredth of the day, and she still was under quota. “You must be exhausted.”

  “No, not at all. I’m happy to have my life back. I’m about to go rowing.” Bennie gestured at Lou. “We’re just getting up to speed on Gardner. Looks like you have a theory.”

  “More than that, a suspect.” Mary came into the cluttered conference room, sat down next to Lou, and got them quickly up to speed, and they both listened silently, saying nothing, even when Mary mentioned Allegra’s involuntary commitment. “So you see, it makes absolute sense that Tim Gage is the killer. The only problem is proving it.”

  Bennie folded her arms, planting her two strong legs. “Understood. That’s exactly the problem. It’s really a shame that we weren’t defense counsel. This kind of evidence would have been a home run at the time of trial. I would’ve gone in and raised reasonable doubt about Lonnie Stall. We would’ve gotten an acquittal.”

  “I know.” Mary felt her heart sink, because Bennie was right. It was the classic third-man defense that she had explained to Stall’s lawyer, but the jury never got to hear it.

  “But at this point, it comes too late. It’s just not legally sufficient.”

  Mary sighed inwardly. “We have an innocent man behind bars, but we can’t prove it, as a matter of law or procedure. Don’t you hate it when law gets in the way of justice? They’re supposed to be on a first-name basis, aren’t they?”

  Bennie smiled, without mirth. “It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last. The days of Perry Mason are over.”

  “We’ve only begun to fight.” Mary was trying to rally. “We learned a lot in a short time, we just have to go after Gage in greater depth.”

  Lou cocked his frizzy gray head. “That’s the spirit. I’ve already been digging into his family background, but there’s nothing that leapt out at me, and he doesn’t have a criminal record. I’m also making inquiries to see if he was ever disciplined in that ritzy school, but so far I’m coming up empty.”

  “So what’s your next step?” Bennie asked Mary.

  “I was thinking about it on the way back, and I know what we should do next. We just learned that Tim Gage is abusive and controlling, and we know that that kind of guy doesn’t change. He didn’t, from Fiona to Hannah.”

  Lou nodded. “I’m following you.”

  “The murder was six years ago, and my guess is, Tim Gage has been abusive since then, or maybe even violent. I don’t think these guys get better, they get worse.” Mary was thinking out loud, and the more she said it, the better it sounded. “I’m wondering if we could figure out, maybe from Tim’s Facebook page, who he’s been dating, go talk to those girls, and see if he’s been violent with any of them. Or maybe he’s even talked about Fiona and said something more pointed than what he told Hannah.”

  “Good thinking,” Lou said, gravely. “These guys like to do a little bragging, too, and I had a case once where someone drank too much and spilled the beans to his wife about a home invasion. I’ll get on it right away, too.”

  Bennie walked to the doorway, where she turned. “You’ve got a tough row to hoe, partner. But you know what they say about when the going gets tough.”

  “The tough get going to the office refrigerator?”

  Bennie laughed, rapping the door trim with her knuckles, which was Rosatospeak for hello and good-bye. “By the way, what happened with Carrier? She told us at the party that you two decided you should work the case alone, but she didn’t say why.”

  Lou looked over, shifting upward in his seat, and Mary realized that was probably what they’d been talking about when she came in.

  “That’s it, basically.” Mary didn’t want to say anything that would make Judy look bad. “It doesn’t require two lawyers, and Lou and I can get it done together.”

  Bennie smiled, and if she suspected there was more to the story, she kept her cross-examination to herself. “Good for you. It’s a prudent decision, considering that we’re working pro bono.”

  Mary blinked, because Bennie didn’t seem angry. It couldn’t have been the post-coital bliss of her trial victory, because that would evaporate when it came to fees. “Sorry, I owe you an explanation, and—”

  “Stop right there.” Bennie waved her off. “You don’t owe me an explanation at all. You’re a partner now and you run your case. You decide the staffing, as you have, and you account to yourself for the resources it uses or brings in, at the end of the quarter. It’s on you. Welcome to my world.”

  Mary didn’t know how to react, for a moment. She felt strange without a boss to persuade, be afraid of, hide things from, bitch about, or blame. “But the other day, you said that we should get out of the case fast, and that it shouldn’t be a priority for the firm.”

  “That’s right, and like I told you, I was wrong. Remember?” Bennie smiled, her expression softening. “Because the other day, you told me that you were a partner and you would make your own decisions about the case and the firm’s priorities.”

  “Oh. Right. I forgot.” Mary suppressed a smile.

  “Look, DiNunzio, Mary, whatever your name is, it’s going to take us both some time to figure out our respective roles in this brave new world. We’ll get it straight, sooner or later.” Bennie rapped the doorjamb again. “I’m out of here. Have fun, you two.”

  “Bye,” Mary and Lou said in unison, then, when they were both sure Bennie had gone and the elevator had pinged, Mary smiled. “Looks like I’m wearing the big girl panties now.”

  Lou burst into merry laughter. “It’s a trip, watching the two of you. I think it’s actually going to work, as a partnership. You and Bennie are really different, but you get each other.”

>   “Maybe that’s true,” Mary brightened, reassured. “I hope so.”

  “I know so,” Lou said warmly. “I’ve been at this firm from the day you joined it, and I’ve watched you go from associate to partner. You’re ready for this, and so is she.”

  “Aw, thanks.” Mary felt a rush of affection for him, but she was too tired to get up and give him a hug. “You should have been at the first meeting we had with Allegra.”

  “Why?”

  “Allegra told us that you can’t have two queen bees in the same hive. Looks like maybe you can, right?”

  Lou lifted a graying eyebrow. “No, not really. Any man will tell you that. You can’t have two queens in the same hive.”

  Mary didn’t get it. “But you just said, Bennie and I are getting along great. There’s no power struggle between us. We’re going to work out just fine.”

  “I wasn’t talking about you and Bennie.” Lou’s smile faded. “I was talking about you and Judy.”

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Mary set next to her mother and father on one side of the small dining table, and El Virus sat at the head, with Anthony, his brother Dom, and his mother’s best friend Bernice Foglia on the other. Half glasses of chianti, leftover cheese ravioli, broccoli rabe glistening with olive oil, and a few pieces of sweet sausage with anise seed remained as evidence of a delicious and festive dinner. A bouquet of pink flowers, which Mary had bought on the way over, sat at the far end of the table, their refrigerated fragrance mingling with the scents of coffee and Polident. They were about to have dessert, and a buttercream birthday cake from Melrose Diner awaited, in its cardboard box in the kitchen.

  “WHAT A MEAL, ELVIRA!” her father said, leaning back in his chair.

  Her mother dabbed at her mouth with a crumpled napkin. “Si, Elvira, the gravy, so good! What you put in?”

  “You gotta put pork. That’s the difference.”

  “E vero?”

  “Yes, absolutely.” El Virus smiled, sweetly. “You don’t put pork in your gravy, I know, but I do.”

  Mary tried not to notice that her mother’s face fell. She rose and waved everybody into his seat. “I’ll clear the dishes.”

  “I’ll get the coffee.” Anthony got up, picked up his plate and silverware with a smile. “Everybody except Dom takes cream and sugar, right?”

  “Right.” Dom grinned, patting his paunch, which threatened to fill out his Adidas track jacket. He was Anthony’s easy-going, if underachieving, younger brother who’d moved out of El Virus’s house only last year. “I don’t eat sugar. I’m sweet enough.”

  Anthony rolled his eyes, albeit benevolently. “Every time, Dom? You have to say that every time?”

  “IT’S FUNNY,” said Mary’s father, with an easy grin.

  Mary picked up as many plates as she could carry and headed into the kitchen, feeling uneasy and preoccupied. All throughout dinner, she was racking her brain to come up with a next step in the Gardner investigation and she’d flashed alternately on Lonnie Stall, hopeless in his incarceration in Graterford, and Allegra, confined to Churchill against her will. She knew that they weren’t the same situations, but she felt weighed upon by both of them in the same way. Bottom line, she was failing at freeing Lonnie or Allegra.

  “You having fun, babe?” Anthony asked, coming into the kitchen behind her and setting his plate in the sink. “You’re kind of quiet.”

  “I know, sorry. It’s the case.” Mary reached into the cabinet and grabbed a bunch of mugs with sayings that seemed to be speaking directly to her. DON’T WORRY, BE HAPPY. WORLD’S BEST MOTHER.

  “I get it, and I have papers to grade. We’ll open presents and go home.” Anthony kissed her quickly on the cheek, then left the kitchen to get more dirty dishes.

  The last of the coffee dripped into the glass pot of the Mr. Coffeemaker, and Mary set the mugs in a row on the counter instead of bringing them empty to the table, because it gave her a chance to hide in the kitchen. It was true that she had been quiet during dinner, relieved to sit back, eat a good meal, and let everyone entertain each other. Happy chatter of wedding plans and gallbladder operations had dominated the conversation, and she had chimed in on one of these subjects, namely gallbladder operations. She could barely get a word in edgewise during the discussion of whether a winter wedding was better than a summer wedding, whether a catering hall would make people feel more at home than a ritzy downtown hotel, and how the ziti should not be overcooked, which everybody knew was impossible, as ziti was always overcooked. Mary knew they were just talking, full of excitement and anticipation, and in the end, she and Anthony would make their own decisions.

  Mary picked up the coffeepot and began to pour seven mugs of coffee, trying to stretch the pot to make a first round. She found herself wondering what Judy was doing tonight. She had called her on the way over, but Judy hadn’t called back. Lou’s admonition about the queen bees had stuck in her brain, lodging deep within the Worry Lobe, and she hoped he was wrong. The last thing she wanted was a power struggle with her best friend on the planet.

  “Here comes another wave.” Anthony entered the kitchen with dirty dishes and put them into the sink. “I say we load them later, at the end of the night.”

  “That’s a plan.” Mary grabbed two mugs of coffee, left the kitchen, and set them down in front of El Virus and her mother. “Here we go, ladies.”

  “Grazie, Maria.”

  “Thanks, Mare.” El Virus grabbed Mary’s arm. “Look at this, everybody! This is my new daughter. Finally, I got my own little girl! Better late than never, that’s what I say!”

  “Me, too.” Mary managed a smile.

  “Remember how we met, Mary? Remember that, everybody? Mary was my lawyer! She got me that awning out front, all-new, they replaced it when it leaked.” Elvira looked up at Mary, her cloudy brown eyes shining behind her bifocals. “I’m proud to call you mine!”

  “Thanks.” Mary extracted her arm and fled to the kitchen. She picked up two more mugs of coffee and ran them out to Bernice, who thanked her, and Dom.

  “Thanks, sis,” Dom said, with a laugh. He worked as a mechanic, finally finding some stability after one or two harebrained schemes to make a fast buck, punctuated by DUIs. “You’re my sister now, right?”

  “Right.” Mary forced another smile. Dominic looked like an inflated version of Anthony, except that his brown eyes were duller, his nose was bigger, his cheeks more puffy, and his lips more fleshy. It wasn’t his weight she minded, but there was nothing funny about drunk driving, and her parents felt the same way.

  “Mary, welcome to the family!” Dom leaned back and grinned up at her. “You’re gonna change your name, aren’t ya?”

  “Uh, no, honestly,” Mary answered, caught off-balance.

  “But you’re one of us now! You’re a Rotunno!” Dom threw up his hands, but Mary felt a headache coming on. She loved Anthony, but she never thought that marrying him would make her a Rotunno.

  “Dom?” Anthony turned from the kitchen threshold, a stack of dirty plates in his arms. “For real? Of course she’s not going to change her name. She’s known professionally by DiNunzio. I don’t want her to change her name. I didn’t ask her to.”

  “Okay, bro, whatever, it don’t matter!” Dom gestured grandly around the table. “Welcome to the DiNunzios, and happy birthday to my mother! I know that my father, God rest his soul, woulda been so happy tonight!”

  “MAY HE REST,” said Mary’s father, and Mary’s mother blessed herself.

  El Virus didn’t react, probably because she’d divorced Anthony’s father years before he passed and usually referred to him as Scumbag.

  “I’ll go get the rest of the coffee.” Mary hurried back to the kitchen, in a deeper funk. Her mother always said that when you marry a man, you marry his family, and she began to feel nervous at the prospect of marrying the Rotunnos. She picked up two more coffees, hurried out to the table with them, and set one in front of her father, kissing him on top of his bald
head. “Love you, Pop.”

  “LOVE YOU, TOO, HONEY.”

  Anthony emerged from the breakfront with a stack of dessert plates and started distributing them around the table. “Mary, you want to get the cake started, and I’ll be right in to light the candles?”

  “Sure.” Mary went back inside the kitchen and grabbed a cake knife from a drawer, coming eye-level with the sign, A Mother Is Someone You Never Outgrow. She used to think it was funny, but now she saw it with new eyes. She closed the drawer and looked around, as if seeing the kitchen for the first time.

  It was small, neat, and white, like Mary’s parents’ except for the modern appliances and funny sayings plastered everywhere. The wall calendar read, Home Is Where Your Mom Is, next to a placard on the counter, I Gave Up Drinking But I’m No Quitter. A sign hanging on the kitchen doorknob read, Friends Welcome, Relatives By Appointment Only. Cake knife in hand, she turned to the refrigerator magnets, her eyes darting from one to the next: I’m Not Stubborn, My Way Is Just Better. Retired and Spending My Kid’s Inheritance. Call your Mother. Italian American Princess. Mary knew the napkin holder in the dining room read, Bless This House, and needlepoint pillows in the living room said, This House Is Clean Enough To Be Healthy and Dirty Enough To Be Happy. If It’s Not One Thing, It’s Your Mother. What if The Hokey Pokey Is What it’s All About?