Deadly Distractions, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 6

by William Manchee

CHAPTER 25

  A CHANGE IN STRATEGY

  Since the Dallas police couldn’t guarantee the safety of Rebekah and the kids, I hired a private investigative agency to provide security at our house around the clock. Rebekah still didn’t want me to leave them alone, but I had no choice. I had agreed to take the 7-9 a.m. watch at Parkland. I walked into the ICU and went straight to the nurses' station. I wanted an update on Monty’s condition before I went to the waiting room. The nurse told me that Monty had been stable during the night but hadn’t regained consciousness since his surgery. I thanked her, went into the waiting room and took a seat at a small desk. I had brought my briefcase so I could get a little work done while I waited.

  The letter from Miss Cabrillo’s attorney was on my mind. Usually in a personal injury case a lot of negotiations go on before a lawsuit is actually filed. These negotiations often go on for as long as two years or until the statute of limitations is about to run out. Normally defense counsel would welcome this delay, but in this case I decided it would be best to get the lawsuit underway. Then I could start taking depositions, doing discovery, and perhaps get some answers as to what was going on. I got Miss Cabrillo’s attorney, Manuel Ortega, on the line. We exchanged chilly greetings.

  “I got your ridiculous demand letter in the mail yesterday. I can’t believe you think your case is worth 1.2 million dollars.”

  “Well . . . yeah . . . we’ve got it all documented.”

  “Yeah, I bet you do. . . . You know, your client’s little game isn’t going to work. My partner isn’t paying a red cent. Your client’s claim is obviously frivolous and brought in bad faith.”

  “What? Are you accusing—”

  “I’m just telling you I’m not going to turn this claim over to our insurance carrier. I strongly suggest you drop it. If you don't, we’re going to countersue for malicious prosecution and we’re going to file a motion for sanctions against you and your firm for participating in a fraudulent lawsuit.”

  “Fraudulent lawsuit? . . . It’s not fraudulent, what are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about perpetrating a fraud against the court and obstruction of justice.”

  “What! I can’t believe your nerve. . . . Let me tell you something, Turner. I am going to file the lawsuit and your client will pay. Trust me.”

  “Great. Go for it and see what happens. It’s your law license.”

  I hung up and smiled. It was a little melodramatic but I was pretty sure there would be a lawsuit filed shortly—maybe a grievance too, but I didn’t care. I was pissed. I didn’t often get angry, but with Monty in a coma, Paula’s career in jeopardy, and my wife and family afraid to leave the house, I couldn’t control my anger any longer. Tears began to well in my eyes, my arms started to shake. Then I felt a tender hand on my shoulder.

  “You all right, Stan?” Paula said.

  I turned and looked Paula in the eyes trying to maintain my composure. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  She smiled. “How’s Monty?”

  “No change. . . . I’ve just been sitting here trying to figure out how best to defend you.”

  I told her about the demand letter and my confrontation with Ortega. Then I filled her in on the graffiti I’d found at home the previous night. She asked me if there had been any word from Tex. I told her I hadn’t heard a word and was getting very nervous. While we were talking, a doctor walked into the waiting room and motioned for us to come out in the hall.

  “I’m afraid I’ve got bad news,” he said.

  “What?” I said holding my breath.

  “I’m sorry, but Mr. Dozier died a few minutes ago.”

  Paula let out a shriek. “Oh, no. . . . God no!”

  I took Paula in my arms and held her. She was crying hard. The doctor turned and left.

  “I’m going to find the son of a bitch who killed Monty,” I said. “I’m going to find him and the rest of the sleazy bastards behind his death. They’re gonna pay! All of them. I promise you, they’re gonna pay.”

  The funeral was held a few days later at Restland. There were a lot of mourners at the service, which was a bit surprising since Monty’s family was small. The police, FBI, and media were also there in force. Paula, Jodie, Rebekah, and I were sitting together. I had picked out a seat in the back of the chapel where I could watch the crowd. It was no secret that the murderer often showed up for the victim’s funeral. If he was there, he was going to get photographed by someone as there were more cameras in the crowd than at a Kodak convention.

  The service started with a few words from the pastor, some music, and then several testimonials from Monty’s family and friends. When the ceremony was over, everyone went to the gravesite. As we were milling around, I noticed a man off in the distance. He looked familiar but I couldn’t place him right off. Then I remembered. He was one of the witnesses to Paula’s hit and run. I nudged Paula.

  “Look to your left,” I whispered. “The man across the pond. Do you recognize him?”

  Paula looked to her left and replied, “Yes, I sure do. Brian Armstrong. I wonder what he’s doing here.”

  “Curiosity, maybe?” Jodie said.

  “Stupidity is more like it,” I said. “Now we know for sure there is a connection between the girl Paula hit, the witnesses, and Monty’s murderer. That’s the only possible reason he would be here.”

  “Why don’t you go tell one of the FBI agents that he’s here?” Rebekah asked.

  “They already know,” I said. “They probably already have the guest list all typed up ready for analysis.”

  “Maybe they’ll see the connection and check it out,” Jodie said.

  “I doubt it,” I said. “The hit and run has nothing to do with them. Besides, I’m sure they are thrilled with all the distractions we’ve had to deal with since we took on Dusty’s case.”

  “Yeah, it makes you wonder if they didn’t have something to do with it.”

  We all looked at each other. We hadn't seriously considered the idea that the government might be behind the hit and run. The CDA had accused the government of being behind it but we hadn't taken their claim seriously. Would they stoop so low? It didn’t seem possible, yet why would a gang pick out a high-profile attorney as a target? It didn’t make sense unless they had intentionally done it to divert our attention from the Dusty Thomas trial. If that was their objective, it had certainly worked. It was hard to believe that the government would go around murdering people, but considering the stakes, it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility.