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Hot Lawyers: The Lee Christine Collection

Page 66

by Lee Christine


  Laila frowned. ‘I can’t work out how she knew I was at Scruffy Murphy’s?’

  ‘Evan’s phone had spyware, plus she’s admitted to stalking him on social media. If you’re linked to him, she’s probably been stalking you too. But we’re not certain about tonight. For all we know she could have been watching your house and physically followed you to the hotel.’

  Laila rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. ‘So, how did you find us in the park?’

  ‘The CCTV’s central control room picked up the car without any problem. From then on, we were following you in real time. We lost you when you entered the park, but then we spotted your lights. You and Evan did extremely well. You would have made it, even if we hadn’t arrived when we did.’

  She must have looked unconvinced because he went on before she could say anything else.

  ‘Do yourself a favour Laila. Don’t re-think the possibilities of what might have been if things had turned out differently. You two had a win. Focus on that.’

  She guessed it made sense. Might be easier said than done though. ‘I’ll try, detective. So, what happens now?’

  Dickson tipped his head in the direction of the door. ‘I need a detailed statement from you, and then we’ll run you home. Would you like to see Evan first?’

  Laila’s heart began to thump, though whether through nerves or excitement she couldn’t be sure. ‘Yes.’

  ‘He’s already made a statement. He feels terrible your life was put in danger because of him.’

  That made two of them. She felt terrible for accusing him of manipulating her, when it turned out Scarlett was behind everything.

  Would he forgive her?

  He’d come to Scruffy Murphy’s to talk before Scarlett had ambushed him. That was a good sign. And in the car, he’d pleaded for her release.

  Dickson stopped, hand on the door handle that led back into the general office. ‘I did stress to him that men and women commit crimes very differently. When men murder, it’s usually over very quickly. There’s a fit of rage, a temporary loss of control, and it’s normally very messy. It’s pretty clear to us what’s happened. With women, the crimes are always personal, and well planned. They’re harder to apprehend, because months, sometimes years go into the planning.’

  Dickson gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘Scarlett got messy because you did the unexpected and dumped her as a client, right after Evan had had a falling out with the family. To her, it must have seemed everything was spiralling out of control. It forced her to act.’

  Evan had had a falling out with the Peytons?

  Was that what he’d come to tell her at the pub?

  Dickson opened the door. ‘Come on. We’ll go find him. At this rate, you won’t be home until three in the morning.’

  They passed through a central area where the phones rang incessantly, and then Dickson was knocking on the door of what looked to be a small interview room. There was the sound of a chair scraping back, and the murmur of low voices, and then the door opened and Evan was standing there, worry clouding his eyes, jaw and neck covered in dark bristles.

  ‘Laila!’

  The worry vanished and he stepped into the corridor and pulled the door closed behind him.

  Dickson checked his watch. ‘I’ll grab a coffee. Be back in five.’

  As Dickson left, Evan took her hand and led her along the hallway until they came to a water cooler set into a small alcove. There, he took hold of her shoulders and looked her up and down, as if making sure she was all in one piece.

  ‘Can you hear me?’

  She nodded. ‘There’s a bit of a hum, that’s all.’

  ‘Thank god.’ His eyes searched her face, hands massaging her shoulders and sending a delightful shiver rolling down her spine. ‘I’m so sorry. How can you ever forgive me?’

  She smiled a little. ‘It’s not your fault. It’s me who should be asking for forgiveness. I blamed you, accused you…’

  ‘Shh. Don’t worry about that. Any level-headed person would have reached the same conclusion. All the evidence pointed to me.’

  He drew her gently to him, and she went willingly, slipping her arms around his waist and laying her head on his shoulder. ‘I didn’t trust you, Evan. I wanted to, but I wouldn’t let myself.’

  She closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath and listened to the rapid beat of his heart, happy for the moment to be right where she was.

  He stroked a gentle hand over her hair. ‘Trust has to be earned Laila, and I hadn’t earned it. I didn’t tell you who I was or even take you out in public. I let you stumble on those facts yourself, only showing you half the person I am. Why on earth would you trust me?’

  She leaned back and looked into his eyes, took another deep breath — took a gamble. ‘My instinct was to trust you, and I was a fool not to listen. That night, in your apartment, you said my parents tried to shrink my world, and you were right. But you never did that. You were happy for me when I got the Peyton case, you said it would be a boon for my practice. You want me to do well, I can see that. And you did all you could to help me with the military matter. I have to stop expecting the worst of people. Not everyone behaves like my parents.’

  She reached up and stroked her fingers over the course bristles on his jaw, let her eyes linger on his generous mouth only inches from her own.

  ‘You don’t shrink my world, Evan, you expand it, enrich it. And the really good thing is, I still only know half of you.’

  He pressed his mouth against hers in the softest, sweetest of kisses, like an affirmation, like the promise of a new beginning.

  Suddenly, an excitement welled inside Laila and she clung to him, only letting go when she heard Dickson coming back along the corridor.

  ‘If you’re done here.’ Dickson’s eyes shifted between them.

  ‘Of course, detective.’ Evan smiled and let go of her hand. ‘I’ll hand her back into your good care, for now.’

  As Dickson turned away, Evan leaned in close and spoke quietly. ‘I have Duncan and George in the interview room. I’m not sure when I’ll get away. The children are with Duncan’s mother, but they want to go to the hospital after this.’

  ‘Do whatever you have to do, Evan. They’re your clients, and I understand, really. The policewoman’s driving me home after this.’

  He frowned. ‘Would you like to go back to my place?’

  Laila shook her head. ‘No, I want to go home. I need a shower and sleep. There’s nothing to fear now. Both Moulder and Holt are in custody, and Scarlett’s hospitalised.’

  His forehead cleared and he nodded. ‘You’re right. I think I’m still in fight mode. I guess it’ll take a while to burn off all that aggression.’

  She smiled, stood on tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek. ‘I can wait Mr Barclay. I’m good at delaying gratification.’

  He made a low growling sound as they walked back towards the interview room. ‘Then you’re a better person than I am.’

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  11 a.m. Monday

  Laila walked out the Supreme Court of New South Wales, flanked by Mike on one side and her friend Trudy on the other. A posse of press had been lying in wait since early morning. Now they gathered around the trio, sound booms looming overhead, a dozen microphones pointed towards Laila.

  Today, she was pleased to speak to them. For a moment.

  A young blonde woman shoved a microphone under her nose. ‘Ms Richards, is it true a class action has been lodged against the Australian military regarding aspects of the Blackhawk tragedy four years ago?’

  ‘Yes, that’s correct.’

  ‘Is it true you’re seeking to have the military’s original findings overturned?’

  ‘Yes. We will be trying to get to the truth of the matter.’

  The next question came from an older man with grey hair, one of the most experienced court reporters in the pack. ‘Will there be compensation for the victims?’

  ‘If the proceedings are successf
ul, yes. The military awarded some compensation at the time of the original enquiry, but we feel it was inadequate.’

  ‘Ms Richards, can you confirm your deceased husband was the pilot of the ill-fated Blackhawk?’

  ‘I can confirm he was one of a number of officers on board the helicopter at the time of the incident. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m having trouble hearing you all. I have a slight auditory problem at the moment.’

  The press parted then, pleased at what she’d disclosed. It was enough for them to begin their research into the matter, and the more coverage they received, the better.

  ‘Are you having coffee?’ Trudy asked when she joined them at the top of the steps.

  Laila smiled. Much as she loved Trudy, she had a much more exciting coffee date. ‘Unfortunately no, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to. Can I take a rain check?’

  ‘Absolutely, you can.’ Trudy folded Laila in her arms, and as always, the two women clung together. ‘Thank you. I know I’ve said this before, but I’m so proud of what you’re doing for us. We needed an advocate like you, Laila.’

  ‘Thanks Trude. You know I’ll do my best.’

  ‘We’ve had a win already,’ put in Mike. ‘The pilot has been reinstated.’

  Laila nodded. ‘That is good news, but it’s early days yet guys. Who knows what will happen.’

  ‘Anyway, you get going.’ Mike gave her a pointed look and tipped his head in the direction of the park. ‘Let me take this good sort out for a coffee.’

  After arranging to meet Mike back in the office in an hour, Laila ran down the concrete steps and headed towards the park. At the intersection, she pressed the button and waited for the walk sign, a nervous excitement blooming in her chest as she caught sight of Evan waiting for her at the entrance to the park.

  She walked towards him, heart tripping in time with her feet. He was watching her through dark sunglasses, one hand resting on his hip, suit coat slung over one shoulder, shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows.

  Laila slowed, drank him in, praying the thrill that surged through her body every time she laid eyes on him would never lessen. She hadn’t seen him since the early hours of yesterday morning, though they’d spoken a little on the telephone.

  The policewoman had driven her home around dawn, and she hadn’t woken until after one on Sunday afternoon. By that time, there was a message from Evan saying he’d been called over to the Peytons’ place. He wanted to be with her more than anything, but they were mending bridges after some argument. She didn’t ask for details. She didn’t need to know. Then Poole Greenwood had called an urgent meeting last night in view of what had happened.

  But now, for the next little while at least, he was all hers.

  He mouthed the word ‘hello’, poking fun at her temporary hearing loss.

  She gave him a playful punch on the arm. ‘I can hear perfectly well, thank you, apart from some high sounds.’

  ‘Glad to hear it,’ he said with a laugh. ‘I’m sorry. I really can’t help myself.’

  She laughed and glanced at his happy profile. Two weeks ago when they’d walked through this park, he’d been frustrated and angry. ‘It’s nice to hear you laugh.’

  ‘You too.’

  They walked along the path to the coffee cart and waited while the barista made them lattes.

  ‘Congratulations by the way. I’m assuming that’s the class action filed?’

  She nodded. ‘I can’t believe it. And we’re already beginning to see some positive things from the military, which is great.’

  ‘The press were out in force.’

  ‘I know. Mike tipped them off.’

  ‘I have a theory,’ he said, giving her the kind of dazzling smile that stole her breath. ‘You broke up with me, because you believed the divorce would be your breakthrough case, right?’

  ‘Right!’ Laila pulled a face. ‘From now on, I’m leaving the multimillion-dollar cases to you.’

  ‘Well, I think this class action will be your breakthrough case. It’s your passion, your area of expertise. This case will be a boon for your practice.’

  ‘Well, who knows Mr Barclay? You could be right.’

  It was a nice way of looking at it anyway. And he’d alluded to their break-up. Had that been intentional? Was it a way of broaching the subject of where they went from here?

  She hoped so.

  ‘I can’t believe it’s only two weeks since I filed those orders for Scarlett. What will happen with the development now?’

  ‘That’s one of the things we’ve been in discussion about. I’ll have to make special application to the court to get them lifted.’

  Laila sighed. It was all such a mess, and with Scarlett yet to be stabilized, it wasn’t going to end any time soon. ‘I’ve still got her file. To think I asked her to come in today and pick it up.’

  ‘Don’t worry. We’ll work it out. The main thing is everyone’s safe, and the children are with their father.’

  ‘How are the family?’

  Evan shook his head. ‘They’re devastated. The marriage breakup and blackmail threats were hard enough to cope with, but this? I mean, Scarlett’s a very sick woman, but George Peyton doesn’t take kindly to people hurting his family, and I’m family, according to George. They raised me from the time I was nine, you know?’

  Laila blinked. ‘I didn’t know that.’

  ‘It’s true.’

  When the coffees were ready, they carried them over to a wooden picnic bench. The weather had cleared up, just in time for the beginning of the new working week.

  ‘The truth is, I don’t know who my real father is. He’s listed as ‘unknown’ on my birth certificate. My mother was, well, promiscuous is probably a nice way of putting it. I was a neglected child. For all I know, I could have half a dozen half siblings out there. It’s not a background I’m proud of.’

  She could see that. Evan Barclay was a proud man, and yet modest at the same time. She imagined him the kind of man who’d keep a small inner circle, and keep them close.

  ‘I know all about bad backgrounds, Evan. We don’t get to choose our parents.’

  He took a sip of coffee. ‘I still don’t like talking about it.’

  His words made her heart constrict, and she reached out and covered his hand with hers. ‘You don’t have to.’

  ‘I want to. There’s a biography coming out about me in the next couple of days, and I have no idea what the author has dug up. I don’t think it’s right for you to learn about me that way.’

  ‘Okay.’ Laila sipped her coffee and waited. No matter what he revealed, she wouldn’t react too strongly. Evan Barclay wasn’t the kind of man to go looking for sympathy.

  His eyes fixed on a point in the distance, like he’d turned inward, like he’d gone back somewhere. ‘There was a bad flood one year, when I was about eight. The army was called in to do the clean-up. My mother met this soldier. He was a really nice guy, well, I thought so, but I was only a kid.’

  Even now it hurt, twisted his gut when he remembered back. ‘Mum really liked him, and I thought for a while I was going to get a nice father, but he shot through without a word. Mum went downhill after that, kind of lost it. That’s when I became homeless.’

  ‘Oh, Evan.’

  There was shock and a glimmer of tears. But then she blinked a couple of times and appeared to steel herself, clasping her hands around the recyclable cup.

  He took a deep breath. ‘I’m not going to bore you how I got by, suffice to say I made friends with the indigenous kids and played a hell of a lot of football. Then one day, George caught me stealing food from his property. He took a shine to me, took me in, and I guess, in the usual Peyton style, pulled some strings with the relevant department so I could stay on the property with his housekeeper, Marion. I lived there until I was fourteen. I did the school of the air, and I learnt to read. Marion loved books. Through her I developed a love of reading.’

  ‘Is she still alive?’

  �
�No, she died a few years ago.’

  He paused for a while, and Laila continued to drink her coffee. She’d been so wrong in assuming his polished style came from a privileged background.

  ‘Anyway, when I was fourteen, George said I could apply for a football scholarship to the boarding school where Duncan went. I knew Duncan from when he’d stayed at the property on holidays. We became good friends, and while I loved the time I spent up there, the isolation was beginning to get to me. I needed more. Anyway, we’ve been best mates ever since. I became like an adopted son to the Peytons, though strictly I was a ward of the state.’

  ‘What happened to your mother?’ Laila asked. She hadn’t had the best of upbringings herself, but at least she’d had food and a roof over her head.

  Evan drew in a deep breath. ‘She died when I was about sixteen. George paid for the funeral.’

  Laila gave a sad smile. ‘I think I may have greatly misjudged the Peytons.’

  ‘I did too. Oh, they’re not perfect by any means, and they’ve done things in the past I wouldn’t have, but they do a lot of good things too, especially for the indigenous people in that area. They’ve built schools, hospitals and the like.’

  ‘Really?’

  Evan nodded. ‘Duncan too.’

  He heard his mate’s voice in his head. You know what she’s like. Everything’s going along fine, and all of a sudden she goes a bit nuts.

  He sighed. ‘I think I’ve been a bit rough on Duncan lately.’

  ‘You couldn’t have known, Evan. Who really knows what goes on in other people’s marriages?’

  ‘I can’t help feeling I’ve let him down though. Anyway…’

  It was time for the hard part. No way of getting around this, he just had to put it out there.

  He took the cup from her hand and put it on the table. He was threading his fingers through hers when he noticed her rings were missing.

  Was that significant?

  He hoped so.

  ‘I think we’ve got something really good going on, if you take away all the crap of the last two weeks. I told you all this, because I think it’s important for you to understand that the person you’re seeing isn’t owned by anyone.’

 

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