by Pat Warren
The phone rang. Joel lifted his head and shouted through the closed door. “Take a message, Marcie.” And returned to her waiting mouth.
Finally, she eased back and smiled up at him. “That call might have been important.”
“Not as important as this.” He nuzzled her neck, inhaling her scent. “Mmm, you smell good.”
She thought the same about him. And he felt good back in her arms. Too good. She stepped away. “I understand from Marcie that you’ve taken on that grocery swindling case. Aren’t you a little off your specialty?”
Joel shrugged, leaning against the edge of his desk. “I take on what interests me.”
Hannah sat down in one of the comfortable chairs facing his desk. “I thought you told me there was no money to be made representing causes.”
He nodded, crossing his ankles. “I did, and there isn’t. But I made plenty of money on the Fowler case. I can afford to do one just because.”
“Just because?”
He might have known she’d question him on this. No matter. It felt good to be explaining his feelings on this one. “Because those people really need help. Mac has been cheating them for years. Imagine, most of the folks who live around his store barely scrape by, and yet he adds to their problems. It’s like stealing the church offering.”
She almost smiled at how righteously indignant he was. “How’d you hear about it?”
“I was working late one evening and got to talking with the woman who cleans our building. Dorie’s sister shops at Mac’s and had told her. I promised I’d look into it. What I found surprised me. Not just that lady, but fourteen other families so far. He’s got a real scam going.”
“I understand if you report grocers like that, the government will take away the food-stamp privileges.”
Joel shook his head. “Not good enough. These folks work hard, most don’t even own cars and live too far to walk to the larger markets. We want Mac to repay them for their losses and to be fined. Then we put together a citizens’ committee to police him and make sure he stays on the straight and narrow.”
Pleased, Hannah cocked her head. “They really got to you, didn’t they?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I went to see Dorie’s sister. Her name’s Betsy, and she’s not even twenty-five yet. If you could see how she lives. Four kids crammed in one bedroom, three in a bed and one in a flimsy cradle. It’s the kids who got to me. Big eyes, thin little bodies, clean clothes but nearly threadbare. Betsy cleans office buildings at night. A teenage girl stays with the kids.” Joel shook his head, still angry at the poverty he’d witnessed. “And then Mac steals from her!”
There was hope for Joel Merrick yet, Hannah thought. “And I understand you’re also upset about some tenement housing.”
He raised a questioning brow. “You’ve been talking with Marcie?” He didn’t care. He was so glad she’d come to him. He’d been hoping she would, but he knew how difficult apologies were. And he’d been more than a little afraid she’d written him off. Hannah Richards was a hard woman to figure.
“Guilty. Did you get the councilman to listen?”
“Hell, no, he wouldn’t. I thought if I gave him a list of all that needed doing and told him I was sure he hadn’t intended to let things get so run-down in his building that he’d be too embarrassed not to make the repairs. Not so. They even had a fire there about a month ago, and that apartment hasn’t been fixed.”
Hannah frowned. “You mean he simply refused?”
“More or less. Told me he owns it through a limited partnership and that the actual running of the building was left to a management company. Conditions and maintenance were their problem, not his. I wanted to punch him in his jowly face.”
She almost laughed aloud.
“What makes it worse is that he’s Clement C. Brown, a friend of my father. He kept trying to divert me with the good-old-boy stuff—how’s your dad, I miss seeing him at the club—that sort of thing. He’s a smoothie, all right.”
Hannah leaned back, curious. “So what are you going to do?”
“I’ve already done it. Filed a class action suit against him and all his partners.”
She knew her face looked shocked. “You honestly did?”
Joel wondered why she was surprised. “Well, wouldn’t you have? That building isn’t even up to minimum safety standards. Someone has to do something. It’s full of young children. Someone’s bound to get seriously hurt sooner or later.” He saw her expression change to bemused. “What?”
“I’m having trouble seeing you as Joel Merrick, crusader for the poor and disadvantaged.”
He straightened, returning to his desk. “I’m not on any crusade. I know better than most that cases like that net you nothing but trouble. But I can afford to do an occasional one because of the others that pay well. You, on the other hand, can’t.”
“Who said? Am I behind in my rent? Am I starving?”
“Maybe not, but you’re driving a car that’s six years old and I noticed that your apartment is somewhat sparingly furnished.”
He wasn’t going to make her defensive. Not today. She felt too good, having won a tough case and making up with Joel. “I happen to like my car. And I want to go slowly in furnishing my apartment, chasing down just the right piece, decorating exactly as I’ve always wanted. That takes time.”
All right. He’d buy her explanation because he knew he couldn’t change her mind about her client list. Leaning forward, elbows on his desktop, he smiled at her. She was wearing a pale yellow wool suit with a black blouse and accessories. Her hair was down past her shoulders and had his palms sweating with the need to touch her. “Yellow’s really your color, you know.”
She smiled at his neat conversation switch. “I thought you told me green was?”
“Yeah, that, too.” The phone rang, and he frowned but continued to study her. “Let’s go have lunch somewhere.”
“Aren’t you going to answer that?”
“Only if you go to lunch with me.”
How could she refuse? Besides, she really was pretty well caught up just now. “Okay, you win.”
He grinned as he picked up the receiver. “Merrick.” His frown returned as he listened. “I don’t know where you got your information, Mrs. Lang,” Joel said into the phone, “but I haven’t agreed to represent Rusty.”
Hannah got up, reluctant to eavesdrop again, and strolled over to gaze out the window. The sky was cloudless, but it was cold and the sun’s rays weren’t strong enough to melt the accumulated snow. She hated to think of the long winter stretching ahead. Boston would be lovely in the spring and summer.
“No,” Joel went on, “I’d rather you didn’t send anything over on Rusty right now. The truth is, my caseload is pretty heavy and…” He paused, listening to the anxious woman plead on behalf of her husband.
Chelsea Lang had called him earlier in the week, asking him to represent Rusty, accused of murdering his brother, Tom, in cold blood. The father of the two men had passed away in January and left a brand-new will that Rusty felt Tom had coerced the old man into signing. Rusty had challenged the will, but the courts had decided in Tom’s favor. Left out in the cold and in debt over the court case, Rusty had snapped, according to Chelsea. She wanted Joel to represent Rusty with a temporary-insanity plea.
“Insanity pleas are seldom believed by juries, Mrs. Lang. And the fact that Rusty hid in Tom’s garage and basically ambushed him seems very premeditated, even to me.”
For another few minutes, Joel listened to her speak of how much Rusty had loved his brother, but how the injustice of the inheritance division had changed him into someone obsessed. “I admire your loyalty to Rusty, Chelsea, but I can’t accept your word. I’d need to talk with him, check out everything, research the case, etc. I simply don’t think I have the time right now for all that would be required in order to represent him fairly.”
Joel was getting annoyed as she persisted. He had to end this now. “Listen,
here’s what I’m willing to do. I need some time to see if I want to take on this case. Meanwhile, you interview other attorneys and hire one if he seems enthusiastic.” He made an instant decision, one he felt in his bones was the right one. “I’ll be out of town for a few days. When I return, I’ll get in touch with you and we’ll talk again.”
He knew she wasn’t happy, but she had little choice but to accept his decision. Chelsea hung up and so did Joel, swinging his chair toward Hannah. He brushed a weary hand across his eyes, then along his chin. He needed to get away. Law was a difficult taskmaster. The need for a change of scene, to clear his head and refresh his spirit, came over him infrequently. But when it did, he knew better than to ignore it.
“Tough decision?” Hannah asked, turning toward him. She’d heard his comments, of course, and didn’t envy Joel’s dilemma.
He rose, walking to her. “Not really.” He’d always felt that every person deserved fair representation, and still did. But the only argument he could see for Rusty would be temporary insanity. It wasn’t a defense Joel was comfortable with. “1 don’t think I can take the case, feeling as I do about Rusty Lang’s guilt. Maybe, if I were to talk with him, I’d feel otherwise, but I doubt it.”
Placing his hands on her arms, he let his eyes roam over her lovely features. He wanted to get away, but not necessarily alone. The idea washed over him, and he liked it a lot. “How’s your calendar looking for the next few days?”
“Not too crowded, why?” Surely he wasn’t going to ask her to help him with a murder investigation, especially when he didn’t believe in the client’s innocence.
“I think I mentioned that I’d been planning to go to Montana to visit my uncle’s ranch after the holidays. I’ve decided to go now instead. Come with me.” Before she could recover from the invitation that he could see surprised her, he forged on. “Bart will send his private plane for us. Montana’s so beautiful, the sky so vast. We can ski or horseback ride. Do you like horses?”
“Well, yes, but…”
“Of course you do. You grew up on a farm. You’ll love this place. Acres and acres of cattle and horses and clean, fresh air. Bart’s Terry’s father, you know, and a great guy.”
“I’m sure he is, but I can’t just up and leave. I’ve got clients and…”
“You just told me you were caught up.” He squeezed her arms. “I know you’re not an impulsive person. But do it, this time, Hannah. Come with me. You’ve been working hard. We’ll just sit by the fire, relax, eat lots and forget the law.”
Oddly, the invitation sounded appealing. No, she wasn’t impulsive. But she’d never fully rested up from her illness, and she hadn’t had a vacation, short or otherwise, in years. “How long a stay did you have in mind?”
She was weakening. He smiled. “I’ll call right now. Bart will have the plane here tonight. We’ll be there by morning. We can stay three days, max. Back by Tuesday morning in time for court, if necessary.”
She didn’t have a court appearance until Wednesday. She’d have to make a few calls, check with a couple of people. Suddenly, it sounded like fun. Wasn’t it about time she had a little fun?
There was one thing. “How large is this ranch house?” she asked.
Joel’s smile widened. “Six bedrooms. That enough for you? You’ll have your own room and bath.”
That did make her feel better. “Are you sure he wouldn’t mind your dragging me along?”
“Positive.” He kissed her quickly, thoroughly. And walked to the phone before she’d find reasons not to go with him.
She’d never even seen a private plane up close, much less flown on one. At Logan Airport at the hangar used by private licensees, Hannah stood in a blue parka and watched the small Learjet taxi to a stop on the lighted runway. Alongside her, dressed as warmly as she, Joel waved to the pilot as he turned off the engines. She had to admit that her heart was pounding with excitement. In her wildest dreams, she hadn’t thought she’d be flying almost across the entire country in a luxury aircraft.
“It may not be exactly as you imagined,” Joel said, taking her arm to guide her to the descending staircase. “Planes in Montana are used to haul livestock at times, so there’s a cargo section that’s strictly utilitarian. The people section is quite small.”
Ducking her head into a chill night wind, Hannah hurried to keep up with him. “Why would you fly cattle somewhere?”
“There could be a prize bull at a distant ranch, so you might take some cows over to be impregnated. Or to breed horses to a prime stallion. Or to complete a sale.” He helped her up the stairway. “Hey, Fred,” he called out to the pilot. “How’s it going?”
“Can’t complain, Joel.” Fred acknowledged the introduction to Hannah, then moved past them to the door. “I’ll see to the refueling, and we’ll be taking off in about half an hour.”
Joel introduced the copilot, as well, and waited until he’d walked out before ushering her into the main cabin. “Well, what do you think?”
It was more spacious than she’d imagined, and nothing like a commercial airliner. There was a table with four swivel chairs around it, all anchored to the floor. And three sets of large reclining chairs, all upholstered in gray. The curtains over the small windows were in maroon, and the carpeting and walls carried the color theme through. In the back, she could see a small galley and two bunk beds with railings along one side. A television set was mounted over the front entrance, and a stereo was playing softly in the background. Yes, she could handle this nicely.
“It’s wonderful.” She turned to him, eyes shining. “This must be how the rich and famous live, eh?”
“Believe me, in Montana when winter closes off even the main roads sometimes for weeks at a time, a plane is a necessity, not a luxury.” Joel took his sheepskin jacket and her parka and hung them up, then walked her down to the door at the far end. “This is the cargo section, empty right now.” He heaved open the heavy door.
The faint odor of animals and antiseptic lingered in the stale air. Hannah checked out the stalls outfitted with guide straps to keep the animals anchored and the bins for hauling hay and other grain. The entire area was of stainless steel and spotlessly clean. “So then Bart’s ranch has a runway on it, or do you have to land at the nearest airport?”
“They have two runways, one by the hangar and a landing strip out in the grazing area to distribute food bundles to the cattle in winter.” He led her back into the main cabin and saw that the pilots were checking their instruments in the cockpit. “Take any chair you like and make yourself comfortable.” He went up front to talk with Fred.
Hannah settled herself in a chair by the window and fastened her seat belt. A half moon cast a silvery glow on the tarmac. She glanced at her watch as she struggled with a yawn. Just after five a.m. Joel had told her he preferred flying at night. With the three-hour time difference, they’d be arriving at about sunrise.
Sighing, Hannah stretched out. Who would have thought she’d be streaking across the night sky on her way west to a place she’d scarcely imagined ever visiting? It must be wonderful to be wealthy enough to snap your fingers and have jets waiting to fulfill your every whim. She’d never be in such a position, not with the legal specialty she’d chosen. But she had no regrets, since she loved her work. And, amazingly, Joel was beginning to see the value in helping people who had nowhere else to turn.
He’d surprised her by considering refusing to represent a man whose innocence he didn’t believe in. He hadn’t changed as much as become more aware of his own feelings about the people he represented. Hannah felt it was a positive step.
Joel stepped past the curtain separating them from the cockpit, then pushed the button that retracted the stairs. He closed and latched the door before walking over and sitting down alongside her. “Almost ready for takeoff,” he said, fastening his seat belt. “After we’re at cruising altitude, I’ll see what’s in the galley. I’ll bet you were too rushed to eat before I picked you up.”
She had been, first going over some things with Marcie, who’d seemed almost more excited about her trip than Hannah. Then she’d driven home and packed, taking longer than she should have in deciding what to take. It was only a friendly trip, she’d reminded herself. Not a romantic adventure. She didn’t want that, and Joel knew it. Separate rooms, time to sit and relax by the fire, no demands on her. She would keep her distance, keep her resolution to stay uninvolved.
The pilot fired up the engines, and the lights in the cabin dimmed. Slowly, the plane began to push away from the gate. Hannah couldn’t help but be excited. She wondered what Joel was thinking.
As she completed the thought, he took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. She turned to him. His eyes were dark blue, his look intimate. He was wearing jeans and a white V-neck sweater, the sleeves pushed up on his strong arms. Black hair curled around the opening, inviting her touch. Her pulse picked up its rhythm.
“I’m glad you decided to come with me,” Joel said softly.
She returned the pressure of his fingers, forgetting everything she’d resolved not to do just moments ago. “Me, too.”
“I asked Fred to overfly Red Lodge because just a little west of there is the Beartooth Wilderness. The Absoraka mountain chain extends all the way to the eastern crest of Yellowstone. It’s a fantastic sight.” Joel leaned toward Hannah so he could point things out to her through the window.
She was awestruck by the colors—gold and red and orange—the rising sun in a sky so pure a blue it looked fake. And far below were rugged-looking canyons and dark forests sprinkled with patches of snow. The plane dipped, the pilot allowing the passengers to get a better view. “I can’t believe it. The snow looks pink the way the sun hits it.”
“A lot of people have thought so. There’s an explanation—something about pigmentation. I’ve never seen it anywhere else.”
Her nose nearly pressed to the glass, Hannah was totally absorbed. “I suppose there’re wild animals down there.”