Tuesday's Child

by Fern Michaels

Ben looked at his watch again. Kala should be returning any minute now from her spa appointment. There would be just enough time for her to shower and dress in the clothes he’d laid out on the bed for her before he finished packing their bags. He no sooner finished his thought than Kala breezed through the suite.

  “What’s up with the bags?” she asked as she headed for the bathroom.

  “I packed for us. I had the concierge change our tickets. We’re going home, so shake it, or we’ll miss the flight.”

  Kala stopped in her tracks. “Don’t you think you should have consulted with me first, Ben? What if I’m not ready to go home?”

  “Oh, you’re ready, my dear. You’ve been ready since the day we left. I’ve known you most of your adult life, and I can truthfully say I have never seen you more miserable than you’ve been since we left Georgia. We have not had one moment of fun, and I say that lightly since we are of an age where fun is whatever we want to make it. You don’t eat, you aren’t the least bit interested in sightseeing. We don’t even have conversations about our day at the end of the day. This vacation is a chore. You’re working at it harder than you would work at preparing for a six-month murder trial. Now, go take your shower, get dressed, and we’re outta here.”

  In a flash, Kala was in the huge marble bathroom, stripping off her clothes. She turned on the shower, talking past the door she’d left slightly ajar. “Have I really been that bad?”

  “Yes.”

  Inside the shower, Kala grinned as she lathered up her thick dark hair. She was going home. Yessss. “You could have sweet-talked that just a little, doncha think? What was the final decision breaker for you?” she called out.

  “A week ago when you saw Nick Mancuso take that tumble at the airport. And all those transatlantic calls to Sophie and your people in Hawaii.”

  “You noticed that, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Ben drawled. “You know, this might be a good time to talk about that plan you have to retire back in Hawaii. When were you going to tell me about it?”

  Kala’s heart fluttered in her chest. There it was, the thing she couldn’t bring herself to talk about to Ben. Now or never. She’d thought when it was time, they’d be sitting on her nubby wheat-colored sofa with wineglasses in their hands. She never thought she’d be naked in a shower in Paris, when she had to confess to her plans. She felt like crying for some reason.

  “I was trying to find just the right moment. Originally, I thought when the trip was over, and we were back home. I never in a million years thought life would turn upside down the way it is now. I love you, Ben. You know that. I know your life is back in Georgia, your friends are there. I realize you have no real family to speak of, but your friends are your family, as you’ve pointed out to me time and again. You like going to the courthouse, you love talking to your fellow judges. You enjoy playing golf with them, and you live for the days those very same judges call or want to meet with you to ask your opinion on cases. I didn’t want ... I didn’t think I should ... what I’m trying to say here is, if you knew what I was planning, why didn’t you say something? We’ve been together over thirty-five years; that gives you the right to ask, to demand answers. Besides, I didn’t want to be rebuffed.”

  “And you figured this out all on your own, is that it?” Ben held up a huge white towel for Kala to wrap herself in the moment she stepped out of the shower. Ben wasn’t sure if what he was seeing were tears on Kala’s cheeks or just water droplets from the shower. He thought they were tears.

  “Well, yeah, I did. You’re telling me I was wrong to do that? Okay, do you want to retire with me to Hawaii once this Sophie mess is all settled?”

  “Hell, yes, I do.”

  “Really, Ben? Truly you do?” They were definitely tears, he decided, as he took her in his arms.

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way. Haven’t you noticed how my friends have all migrated to other climates? You went with me to four funerals this year. The younger judges aren’t the least bit interested in this old fart’s opinions. I can play golf anywhere. What I can’t do without is you. For a top-notch lawyer, you can be pretty dense sometimes, my love. Maybe I can teach some law classes at the University of Hawaii. If they’ll have me. How many cousins do you have at the university?”

  Kala laughed. It was a joke about her family and all the cousins, nieces, and nephews. “Quite a few, actually. I’m sure we can get you a gig there.”

  “What will you be doing?” Ben asked curiously.

  Kala whirled around and stared up at Ben. “I thought I’d plan my wedding. No way in hell can I move back home and live in sin. The elders would never permit it. So I’m thinking a real island wedding with a luau. I’m going to wear the traditional garb, do the hula for my new husband in my grass skirt, which I will make myself, and I will wear the traditional crown of flowers. That’s my game plan.”

  “Are you asking me to marry you, Kala Aulani? Because if you are, I accept. What I won’t do is wear a loincloth to your grass skirt.” Well damn, he was excited.

  “Sure you will,” Kala said, tweaking his cheek. “Well, now that that’s all settled, how do I look for our trip back home?”

  “Marvelous. No loincloth.”

  “Then I can’t marry you,” Kala said, sashaying to the foyer, where all the bags waited. She opened the door and crooked her finger in his direction. “I promise to make it worth your while.”

  “Well, in that case ...”

  Twelve hours later, thanks to a four-hour layover, Kala and Ben were pushing a dolly with all their luggage toward the EXIT sign at Hartsdale-Jackson International Airport.

  Outside, in the cool evening air, Kala looked around as she sniffed a familiar scent. Plumeria. Plumeria there in Georgia? Impossible! It must be perfume. Walking toward her, decked out in flowered Hawaiian shirts, was a couple she vaguely recognized. They both wore leis. Just another vacationing couple returning from Hawaii. My ass, she thought. She wouldn’t bet the rent on it, but she thought the couple were assistant DAs who worked for Ryan Spenser. She gave Ben a slight nudge to the side so that he could see what she was seeing. She watched the frown build on Ben’s face as he tried to figure out if he knew the colorful couple or not.

  A van slid gracefully to the curb, and Jay and Jed hopped out. Within seconds, the mountain of luggage was stashed in the back, and Kala and Ben were inside, buckled up and ready to go.

  “Take a good look and tell me if you recognize those two decked out in Hawaiian garb,” Kala hissed.

  Jed craned his neck. “Oh, yeah, that’s Ginger Albright and Don Clark, Spenser’s ADAs. Looks like maybe they’re just coming back from a vacation in Hawaii.” He laughed. Jay joined in.

  “They fit the description your people called in to us daily, Kala. They had pictures of Sophie they showed to practically everyone on the island. With no results, of course. They gave it their best shot. They were everywhere, didn’t miss a beat. Grocery stores, beauty shops, nail salons, various spas, all the hotels, the banks, the post office. They hired some kids to patrol the beaches. They handed out copies of Sophie’s picture like she was a wanted criminal with a bounty on her head. But, I am happy to report, they came up dry, and as you can see, they returned home with their tails between their legs.” Jay laughed again, the sound so contagious the others laughed with him.

  “Damn, it’s good to be home,” Kala said. Ben reached for her hand and squeezed it hard. She squeezed back.

  Ryan Spenser looked at the mountain of paper on his desk. Then he looked down at the entire transcript of the Sophie Lee trial. He’d been lugging it back and forth from home to the office for days. Then he looked at the newspapers his secretary had placed on his already cluttered desk alongside a deep pile of phone messages, most of them from reporters and, of course, the Speaker and his uncle the governor. As much as he didn’t want to, Spenser picked up the AJC and snapped it open. Nothing above the fold. That was good. Nothing below the fold, either. That was good, too. The Speaker and the
governor should be happy about that.

  Spenser spit on his finger and turned the page. Top left-hand corner in bold print, the words glared at him. “Seven new cases added to Spenser’s backlog. Lawyers furious at the prospect of their clients wrongfully imprisoned. All vowing to overturn past convictions.”

  Spenser felt sick to his stomach. This would go on for years, destroying all his dreams of stepping into the governor’s mansion. He’d be damn lucky if they didn’t cart his ass off to some federal prison. He goddamn well did not deserve this.

  Rage filled Spenser at the situation he was in. Blind rage. All-encompassing rage. Eye of the tiger.

  Spenser felt like he was in a trance. It was almost impossible to pull his eyes away from the Sophie Lee transcript when he heard the knock on his door. He bent over and banged his head so hard on the desk he literally saw stars. The pain brought him back to reality. He barked an order to come in. He glared with narrowed eyes at his two ADAs.

  Ginger took the lead. “We came up dry. Not one person—and we spoke to thousands of people—would admit to seeing Sophie Lee. We covered the island from one end to the other. We didn’t leave one stone unturned.”

  “And yet you both somehow managed to get a nice suntan,” Spenser snarled.

  “We were on foot most of the time and in the sun, sir,” Don Clark said, his attitude toward his boss apparent in his tone of voice. “It’s hot in Hawaii.”

  Ginger picked up the ball, and said, “Is there anything else you want us to do, sir?”

  Spenser looked at the mess on his desk, wishing he knew what the hell it all was. “I want you to go to the evidence locker and bring me everything in it. If they give you a problem, have them call me. And Sophie Lee’s personal possessions, if there are any.”

  “Yes, sir,” the ADAs said as they turned and left the room.

  Outside in the hallway, Ginger grimaced. “Ten years later he wants the evidence that he used to convict Sophie Lee? My bet is Sophie Lee’s personal possessions were picked up by her lawyer or her friend the reporter. What do you think, Don?”

  Don shrugged. “Who the hell knows? I wasn’t even in Georgia when that case went down. It’s customary for the next of kin to take possession of the defendant’s property once the police release it. Since Sophie Lee was an orphan with no next of kin, then either the reporter friend or her lawyer probably has it, and lots of luck trying to retrieve it. That son of a bitch is just grasping at straws now. He’s going down, and he knows it, and even his Speaker of the House daddy isn’t going to be able to help him. In case you haven’t figured it out, Ginger, I got a hard-on hate for Spenser.”

  Ginger laughed. “Join the club. Listen, just because no one likes that cocky bastard doesn’t mean he did something wrong. He went to court with what he had, and a jury agreed with him. He could still come out of this okay, and everyone out there might be spinning their wheels for nothing. Come on, let’s get on this so we can go home and get some sleep. I do like your tan, though, ADA Clark,” she added with a smirk.

  Twenty minutes later, covered with grime and dust, the two attorneys looked at the empty box labeled SOPHIE LEE and the date, which was ten years earlier. They smiled in the dim light.

  “No way in hell is Spenser going to believe this! Someone’s head is going to roll.” Ginger shoved the empty box back into its niche. “Let’s see where Lee’s personal possessions are and who signed for the evidence to be taken out.”

  Another thirty minutes went by before the two detectives had a name; Kala Aulani had signed out Sophie Lee’s personal possessions. Don read from the list. Watch, purse, keys, billfold, assorted purse junk, laptop, clothing, and shoes. There were no signatures for the contents of the evidence locker.

  “Looks like Aulani didn’t even ask to see what was in the evidence locker. The cops are pretty uptight about that end of it. They keep pretty meticulous records from what I’ve seen over the years. We can’t hang that on her, but Spenser sure as hell will try,” Ginger said.

  Ginger flipped through the pages of the logbook, but there was nothing to find other than Kala Aulani’s signature for the release of Sophie Lee’s personal possessions.

  “Well, someone took it all out,” Ginger said. “Spenser is never going to believe this. Who was on duty when Kala signed out Lee’s personal effects?”

  “Donna Holmes. Never heard of her,” Don said. He looked over at the grizzled older officer who was reading the sports page under a dim yellow reading lamp. “Hey, Drucker, do you know who Donna Holmes is?” The officer shook his head.

  Back upstairs, Ginger logged on to the first computer she came to and ran a check on Donna Holmes. Fifteen minutes later Ginger said, “She’s a detective at this precinct. According to this,” she added, pointing to the computer screen, “she was a rookie, fresh out of the academy and assigned to the evidence locker because that guy we just saw back there was in the hospital with a ruptured appendix. It was her first assignment on the force. Guess we have to talk to her.”

  “Can’t we just call her? I need some sleep. This jet lag is killing me. Weren’t we supposed to eat almonds or something?”

  “Huh?” Ginger said, a stupid look on her face.

  “I think I heard somewhere that if you eat almonds, you won’t have jet lag,” Don said lamely.

  Ginger rolled her eyes. She’d never heard such a thing. Cell phone in hand, she was already dialing Donna Holmes’s work cell. The voice that came through was brisk and cool. “Holmes, what can I do for you, Ms. Albright?”

  “A lot. Can you meet us somewhere in the next ten minutes? We need to talk with you about something important.”

  “How about right out front? I’m parking in the lot as we speak.”

  “Ten minutes tops, and you can head for home, Don. Try to look alert. You look like you’re in a trance of some kind,” Ginger said.

  Donna Holmes looked like the girl next door who had grown up into an adult and hadn’t changed a bit. She was neat and tidy, just a touch of makeup. Her eyes were clear and steady, her handshake firm.

  Ginger took the lead and explained what they wanted to know. Donna responded:

  “That was ten years ago. My first assignment when I got to the force. I hated every minute of being stuck down there. I did read a lot of books and magazines, I can tell you that. I couldn’t wait for Drucker to get out of the hospital. I just don’t remember anything about what you’re asking. If Miss Aulani signed out her client’s stuff, what’s the problem? Shouldn’t you be talking to her?”

  “She signed out Sophie Lee’s personal stuff, you know, watch, purse, clothes, that kind of thing. The evidence box was empty. What we want to know is where that evidence is. No one signed it out, but the box is empty. Is it even remotely possible that being new on the job, you gave her the evidence contents and the personal stuff?” Ginger asked.

  Any other time and under other circumstances, the look of blind panic on Donna Holmes’s face might have been funny. Right then, that minute, it was not funny.

  “This is about Ryan Spenser, right?” Holmes didn’t wait for a response. “I don’t remember doing that, but I’m not saying I didn’t. I was overwhelmed, and I hated being cooped up in that dungeon. I don’t know how Drucker does it. I felt like a vampire down there. I don’t know what to say other than I might have given her everything. What’s going to happen now?”

  Ginger and Don both shrugged.

  “Do you remember what was in the evidence bin?”

  Holmes’s face puckered up. “I want to help, and if I screwed up, I’ll take responsibility. I can’t be sure, and I’m guessing. Laptops, I think, and I don’t even know why I’m saying that as in plural. I don’t have any recollection of even looking in that box, but if I’m saying laptops, where did I get that from?” The detective shrugged her slim shoulders and frowned. “How much trouble is this going to cause?”

  Ginger’s eyes sparked. “Could be a lot, could be none, depends on Spenser and how mad he is
. Is it possible you’re thinking of the laptop in Sophie Lee’s personal effects.”

  Holmes shook her head. “No. I seem to remember multiple laptops and thinking who needs all these laptops? It’s vague in my mind. Like I said, I’m guessing here. Did you talk to the person who signed out the stuff?”

  “Not yet. Okay, listen, keep thinking about this and call me if you remember anything, anything at all.” Ginger scribbled both hers and Don’s work cell numbers along with their personal numbers on a sheet of paper she ripped out of a notebook she always carried with her. She handed it over.

  Both lawyers watched Donna Holmes walk away. “I think she gave Aulani the whole ball of wax. Think about it. Why would Aulani even mention it to anyone? None of it would ever have come to light if Spenser hadn’t asked for it. She probably used all that stuff from evidence when she filed all of her appeals. I’m not sure what that makes her guilty of, if anything. Sophie Lee was found guilty by a jury of her peers. The appeals didn’t work. Why open up that can of worms?”

  Ginger Albright looked uneasy as she stared at her fellow ADA. “We’re not going to get to first base with Kala Aulani.”

  “Well, I’m not going to worry about it. I’m going home to eat some almonds. And then I’m hitting the sack. Don’t call me unless they find Spenser’s dead body somewhere.”

  “What? You’re leaving me to go back and ... and ...”

  “Yeah. Maybe you can sweet-talk him,” Don said, trotting around the building to where his car was parked.

  “Why do I always get the shit detail?” Ginger groaned as she retraced her steps and took the elevator to Ryan Spenser’s office. When Spenser’s secretary told her Spenser had left to attend a meeting, Ginger almost fainted in relief. The secretary took notes as Ginger rattled off what had happened at the evidence locker and at her and Don’s meeting with Donna Holmes.

  “Oh, this is not good.”

  “No, it isn’t, and I, for one, don’t give a good rat’s ass, either. I’m just the messenger,” Ginger said cheerfully. “And I heard somewhere that shooting the messenger has gone out of style. See you when I see you.”