by John Foxjohn
He didn’t know her name or anything about her, but he’d bet any amount of money this was the attorney who would represent Estes’ daughter. He hated snap judgments with a passion, and before now, his opinion of Estes’ daughter couldn’t get any lower. But if she chose this woman to represent her, she had more intelligence than he gave her credit for.
This woman would be hell-on-wheels in a courtroom.
Her hypnotic eyes switched to Estes’ daughter.
His brows rose when her expression transformed. Those expressive eyes gave her away. She not only knew Estes’ daughter, she hated her guts.
* * * *
It took every bit of Kayla’s will power to keep her composure, but she did. She strode around Marvin to the conference table and sat. “Mr. Estes, could we all sit and talk, please?”
Everyone gathered at the conference table and Estes introduced the man Kayla had spotted first—a private detective from Chicago.
Estes sat across from Kayla. “I want to be straight with you, young lady. You are here because my daughter wants you to be. I damn well don’t. I don’t care who your father was. If he was here, I would want him, but he is dead. I have nothing against you. I don’t know you, but I don’t believe you have the maturity or experience to be involved in this. Do I make myself clear?”
Kayla clasped her hands under the table to help her control her emotions. She hesitated to make sure she spoke in the right manner. “Sir, I can understand your reservations. I am not here of my own volition, either. Mr. McMasters ordered me to defend your daughter. I would like to make a small point if I may.”
She didn’t wait for a response. “My initial job is usually to advise the client of their rights when they are investigated by the police—to help my client stay out of trouble. In this case, either I, or someone else, needs to begin planning for a trial. If I’m not the attorney who’ll represent your daughter, my advice is to get someone fast.”
Estes waved his hand like swatting something. “Nonsense. My daughter didn’t kill anyone and there will be no trial.”
Kayla leaned forward. “Sir, I wouldn’t make a wager on that.”
Estes’ face burst to the color of a ripe tomato. He pounded his fist on the table. “This is utterly ridiculous. If they prosecute my daughter, it will be for no reason except political. I will not stand for it.” He jabbed a finger at Kayla. “You get off your butt and stop this.”
“Sir, that is not in my or any other attorney’s ability. The district attorney alone decides if the state files charges. If they do so, they’ll take the evidence to a grand jury who’ll decide if they have enough to take it to trial. If the grand jury makes that determination, the district attorney will prosecute. I just returned from visiting with Howard Proctor. He gave me the impression that this case will go to trial.”
Estes’ head turned, his glare reaching everyone in the room, then he turned to Kayla. “As I said before, I don’t want you on this—Loren does.”
And Loren always gets what she wants, no matter who she hurts in the process.
Estes jerked at his lapel. “What do we need to do?”
Kayla didn’t want to, but turned to Loren Estes. “I need to know every word you said to the police.”
Her client, who hadn’t spoken until then, gave Kayla her best smile. “Kayla, dear, I am much too smart to talk to the police. The only words I uttered were ‘I want an attorney.’”
Kayla ignored the rage boiling inside her. “Good. Let’s keep it that way. From this point on, no one but me speaks about this case. That means to the police, D.A., and especially to the media—and they’re going to get wind of this soon. I’m surprised they haven’t already.”
When everyone nodded, Kayla asked, “Did they search anything of yours?”
Loren Estes’ mouth hardened. “They searched everything I own. My car, house, everything. They even rummaged through my underwear.” Loren cocked her head and smiled. “I know they must have gotten off on that.”
Kayla ignored her comment. “Did they give you a search warrant?”
“Yes.” She reached into her Gucci purse and handed it to Kayla, who passed it on to Marvin without looking at it.
Kayla glanced at everyone in the room. “I would like for all of you to leave and let me confer with my client for a few minutes, please.”
“Me too?” Marvin asked.
Kayla nodded and a smile touched her eyes. “Yes, but meet me in my office in ten minutes.”
Estes rose, slow and deliberate. “I want to tell you this. Money is no object, but you’d better not screw this up.”
Kayla believed she’d heard those exact words recently. It sure was nice that everyone had so much confidence in her. But who was she kidding? Why should they have confidence in her? She didn’t have any in herself.
With the room empty and the door closed, Loren exclaimed, “My God, Kayla. What’s wrong with you?”
Kayla shook her head. “What do you mean?”
“Look at your clothes. They’re off the rack. You buy your clothes off the rack.”
Kayla sat straight, digging her nails in her leg under the table. She took a deep breath. “Yes, I do and will continue to do so. I don’t need designer clothes to define who I am.”
With most people, Kayla’s statement would be an insult, but Loren Estes didn’t care. Kayla leaned forward to redirect Loren’s attention. “I need to know what the police seized while searching your property.”
Loren waved it off. “Nothing important and nothing I can’t replace.”
Kayla raised an eyebrow. “That wasn’t what I asked. I could care less what you can and can’t replace. I—need—to—know—what—they—seized.” She emphasized each word with a finger shaking at Loren Estes. Some way she needed to get across to this woman, she might be in serious trouble.
“Oh, okay. Let me think.” She twirled a strand of hair for a moment. “They took my laptop, the tapes in my answering machine. Oh yeah, they asked what I had worn Wednesday night and took the clean clothes I told them I wore. I need to shop for a new outfit anyway.”
Kayla rolled her eyes. “Is that all?”
After a moment of thought, she shook her head. “No, they took my pistol from the console of my Jag, but that’s no big deal either.”
Kayla rolled her thumbs in front of her. Could Loren Estes be that stupid? Could anyone be that stupid? She shook her head and let out an audible breath. “Someone murdered Michelle McCrery by shooting her. The police show up at your place about eight hours later with a search warrant. One of the things they seized was a pistol you owned. You don’t consider that a big deal?”
Ten minutes later, Kayla left the conference room and trudged to her office. It had been a long day. She had a lot of long days coming.
Kayla flopped in her chair and massaged her temples a moment until someone knocked on her door. She straightened and called, “Come in.”
She indicated for Marvin to sit. “I need to tell you something and I should have told you before. After I do, if you want to withdraw, I won’t blame you.”
Marvin looked confused but only nodded. Kayla continued. “I have known Loren Estes a long time. She and I were best friends through junior high, high school, and college. She was my maid of honor at my wedding.” Kayla hesitated.
“It’s obvious that she isn’t your best friend now.”
“Six months after I married, I left something at home and had to return. When I did, I found my husband in bed with another woman—Loren Estes.”
“Kayla. You can’t defend this—this—woman.”
When Marvin left, Kayla stood slumped by the window as rain plopped against the large pane. She had a case she didn’t think she could win, a client she hated and would love to see behind bars, and to complicate all of that, Estes had brought in this private detective.
Kayla’s law firm had investigators—and good ones. John Sutherland held the top spot. As a retired Houston police officer, he knew the city,
the people, and had many friends on the police department and could get inside information from that source that few people could.
She needed him on this one. That Chicago guy might be good where he came from, but she had no confidence in him in Houston.
Estes brought him in because if Kayla used one of the firm’s investigators, the firm paid him and he worked for Kayla. Estes would not have access to the investigator’s information. If Estes paid the investigator, he’d demand that knowledge and get it.
Now, she needed to talk to someone with connections with the Houston police department.
She wilted in her chair, picked up the phone and dialed Marvin’s number. “Marvin, this is Kayla. You’ve worked a lot with John Sutherland, haven’t you?”
“Yeah, I have. Good man. Darn good investigator. Kayla, I wish we had him on this one.”
“Me, too. If I wanted to have a talk with him outside of his office, where would I need to go?”
He chuckled. “That’s easy. The best place to find John at any time is a bar called Paddy’s Irish Bar and Grill on Montrose.”
* * * *
Darren left the lawyer’s office, took a cab to a nearby Avis, rented a Ford Taurus, and then shopped for clothes. Now, dressed in navy, pleated slacks, short-sleeved polo shirt, and rubber-soled Oxford dress shoes, he had stopped at a bank and sent five thousand dollars to Liz in a Money Gram. He smiled thinking about her reaction when she received it. She’d say to herself, “’Bout time,” then start figuring which bills to pay first. He’d also sent a note telling her to take her salary out of it first, but she wouldn’t.
After locating a Holiday Inn close to downtown, he got a room for a month, paid, and lay back on his bed. His cell phone rang and he knew who called before he glanced at the caller ID. He’d known he’d get it, just not when. He sighed. “Hello, Paulette.”
“Don’t hello me. Kevin told me you broke another promise.”
He gritted his teeth. “Actually, I didn’t promise him. I said I’d try my best. I have to work, Paulette.”
“You seem to always have excuses. You’re breaking this kid’s heart. James is a better father to him than you are. You could at least try to be a part of your son’s life.”
His eyes narrowed and throat constricted. He took several deep breaths. He didn’t spend enough time with Kevin. It wasn’t by choice and it wasn’t all his fault, either. “Actually, in the last two months I’ve tried four times to pick him up. You informed me you all had other plans. This crap has gone on for a year. When my scheduled times come, you won’t let me see him.”
“More excuses. We have a life outside of your precious schedule. You need to conform to ours.”
He should take it and let her run off at the mouth. It would make her even madder if he didn’t say anything, but he slammed the phone down, hoping it hurt her ears.
They had gone through this so many times he could say the words for her. She only called when Kevin was around so he could hear her part of the conversation. She also tried to keep him away from his son.
When he did get to spend time with Kevin, he had to listen to the things Paulette said about him. This tore him in different directions. He wanted to tell his son what his mother was like and what she tried to do. The love he had for Kevin wouldn’t let him do it—wouldn’t let him talk badly about his son’s mother—wouldn’t let him defend himself.
Because he didn’t, Kevin only heard his mother’s side of things and believed them. Darren didn’t know what he could do.
He wanted to go back to court and get the visitation changed, or at least enforced, but he didn’t have the money for an attorney and Paulette had a good one. If he did take it to court, he’d run the risk of losing what visitation he had.
He only hoped that one day his son would understand, but by the time he got old enough, the growing gap between them might be too wide to fix.
He kicked the plastic trashcan, and it made him mad at himself. He’d let her get to him. He flopped on the bed, eyes closed. For the life of him, he’d never understand why she hated him so much. Why did she want to punish him? She’d wanted him to leave the Chicago police department because he didn’t make enough money.
He started his own detective agency and made a little more, but like all businesses, he needed to reinvest most of it. She hadn’t liked that either. After a year, she packed, moved out, and filed for divorce.
He didn’t want to lose Kevin, but realized that the divorce was best for all and didn’t fight it. Before that, he and Paulette got along a little, but when he didn’t fight the divorce, all hell broke lose.
He rubbed his face with both hands. Women.
His thoughts shifted to Kayla Nugent. Ever since their meeting, he’d had trouble getting her out of his mind.
When he first saw her, he’d made a hasty judgment about her competence. As the meeting progressed, he’d paid close attention to her, and she didn’t disappoint him.
How she had kept her composure with Estes baffled him. He needed the man’s money in the worst way, but he didn’t think he could have taken what she did.
She not only took what Estes handed out, but turned the table on him. He tried to intimidate her, as Darren had witnessed him do to others. It didn’t work. The blow-hard who hid behind all his money to gain respect, couldn’t force it on Kayla Nugent.
Her presence alone commanded everyone’s attention, including the daughter’s.
He glanced at his watch and sighed. Six-thirty. He hadn’t realized how late it was, and she’d have left the office by now. He smiled. “I’d bet a thousand dollars that the woman I met today hasn’t left for home yet.”
He took out his cell phone and dialed her number. It didn’t surprise him when she answered in a soft voice, “Kayla Nugent.”
“This is Darren Duval. I took a chance you might still be there. I’d like to get together with you. Discuss what you want me to do.”
“I’m still at the office. Plan to be here for awhile if you want to stop by.”
“Uh-huh, good. Be there in about thirty minutes.”
“I’ll call the guard and tell them to let you come up.” The phone clicked and buzzed in his ear. It could wait until tomorrow, but he wanted an excuse to see her again. He didn’t know why, because he already had one too many women complicating his life. He didn’t need two.
His trip to the law firm took less time than he thought. With the traffic going away from downtown, he pulled into the parking garage in fifteen minutes.
He entered the front of the building to find a guard sitting behind a desk, talking on the phone. A man in a suit stood before the guard, hands on hips, tapping his foot.
With a sour expression, the guard dropped the phone in place. “Harding said for you to come up. Please tell him that it’ll save us some time if he calls down when he has a client coming in after hours.”
Darren stepped up as the man stomped off. When he told the guard his name, the man glared at him for a long moment.
“Ms. Kayla called down and told us to let you come up.”
Darren’s eyes widened at the guard’s use of the first name. “Ms. Nugent takes care of business, doesn’t she?”
“You dang right she does. Ms. Kayla helped me when no one else would. She wouldn’t take a penny, either.” He pointed Darren in the right direction.
She relaxed behind her desk talking on the phone when he entered her open office door. She indicated that he have a seat.
When she hung up, she smiled. “Glad you called.”
Damn, how that woman’s smile lit up a room.
Before he could answer, the man that had come to the meeting with her knocked.
“Come in, Marvin. Do you remember Darren Duval, the private investigator from Chicago?”
She glanced at Darren. “This is Marvin Bank, my assistant with this defense.”
Darren rose, shook the little man’s hand, and sat again. Marvin Bank didn’t look like a lawyer—more like an acc
ountant. For that matter, Kayla Nugent looked more like a teacher than a lawyer.
“What should I work on, first?” Bank asked Kayla.
She twirled a pen in her left hand and answered him without stopping. “I think we need to go ahead and get the paperwork done to petition for discovery. When they file charges, we need to do that first.”
Frown lines creased her forehead making a vee above the bridge of her nose. “We also need to begin to think about what evidence they have and what we can have suppressed. Get the paperwork ready on that in case we’re right.”
She amazed Darren that the pen continued to twirl with no hesitation, misses, and in her left hand, and she was right handed. It had to be a thinking mannerism with her.
“We also need to think of what we may or may not say when this hits the media.”
Bank opened a folder he’d carried, pulled out the front page of the Houston Chronicle, and laid it on her desk. “Too late. They have it.”
Kayla’s chest heaved when she took a deep breath. “I knew they’d get it but didn’t expect it this quick.”
Bank used a finger to push up his glasses. “That police department leaks more stuff than an inside trader.”
Kayla’s eyebrows rose and she smiled. “Except to us.”
Darren watched the exchange between the two lawyers. They appeared comfortable with each other, and if he wasn’t mistaken, a tremendous amount of respect passed between them.
She turned those keen grey eyes on him. “I want to be honest with you. The fact that you came from Chicago and know no one in Houston worries me. Our investigators have ways of getting information.”
He’d expected this would come up, but not this soon. “Actually, in most cases, I’d agree with you. The investigator the firm has knows the people, and how to pull information out of them.”
He held his hand up to stop her. “I said in most cases. I don’t think this is one of them. I have a weapon they won’t. In my experience, it is better than threats or intimidation.”
She flipped a strand of hair off her ear. “What’s that?”