Attorney-Client Privilege (32 page)

S
pecial pounded on Vernetta’s front door with both fists, then pressed the doorbell in rapid succession.

“It’s me!” she yelled. “Open up. This is important!”

It took a couple of minutes before she heard the click of the deadbolt lock. “Do you know what time it is?” Jefferson groaned, as he eased the door open.

He had one hand on the door, the other on the door jam, blocking her entrance. He was dressed in a rumpled T-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms.

“It’s not even nine o’clock yet. That ain’t late.” Special ducked under his arm and into the house.

“Vernetta’s not answering her cell. Is she home? I need to talk to her. A-S-A-P.”

Jefferson yawned and closed the door. “She had to take her parents to LAX. She should be home any minute.”

“Well, I gotta wait up for her. You see this right here?” She waved a yellow folder back and forth in front of his face. “What I got in here is gonna clear Lamarr
and
nail that heffa, Girlie Cortez.”

“I doubt Vernetta cares about clearing Lamarr. She doesn’t represent him anymore.”

“She’ll care once I tell her what I found out.”

Jefferson yawned and stretched his arms. “So what did you find out?’

Special tucked the folder behind her back. “Sorry, it’s top secret. I’m a private investigator now. I’d be breaching my ethical obligation to my client if I divulged confidential information.”

“Okay, whatever. You can wait for Vernetta in the den. I have to be up at five, so I’m going back to sleep.”

He turned to leave, but Special grabbed the tail end of his T-shirt.

“I don’t wanna wait by myself. Anyway, I need to talk to you too.”

She tugged him toward the den, where he fell onto the couch. Special placed her file on the coffee table and sat in an adjacent chair.

“What’s the four-one-one on Clayton—excuse me—Khalil. Did he hook up with that blabbermouth Akila yet?”

Jefferson hooked his head over the back of the couch and closed his eyes. “I ain’t getting into that.”

“That’s a very evasive response,” Special replied. “Now that I’m a private investigator, I’m a lot more perceptive. If you didn’t know anything, you would’ve said so. Now spill it.”

Jefferson pinched the bridge of his nose. “I haven’t talked to Clay—Khalil—in a few days. I have no idea what’s going on with him. And even if I knew something, I wouldn’t tell you. He’s not the guy for you, okay?”

Jefferson’s words quieted her. “And why would you say that?”

“Clay—hell, it’s gonna take me some time to get used to his new name. He ain’t here, so I’m calling him Clayton. That brother really wants to change things for black folks. He needs a woman who’s down with him on that.”

“And that’s not me?”

“You tell me. The woman Clayton hooks up with is gonna have to make a lot of sacrifices. She’s gonna have to share him with the Community. You willing to do that?”

“Maybe.”

“Stop lyin’,” Jefferson said. “Move on. You’re crazy as hell, but you’re a good woman. There’s a guy out there for you.”

Special sucked her teeth. “I wish you would tell me where the hell he is.”

“Just stop lookin’ so hard. Sistahs like you scare men. The next dude you meet, just kick back and enjoy his company.”

“Easy for you to say. Your clock ain’t tickin’.”

“I thought you didn’t want kids.”

“That’s beside the point.”

Jefferson chuckled and massaged the back of his neck. “I have no idea why women are so anxious to get married. Marriage ain’t the be-all and end-all.”

“I won’t tell your wife you said that.”

“I don’t mean it in a bad way. I like being married. But it’s hard work sometimes. Me and Vernetta have been through some stuff. And, by the way, thanks for telling her I was talking to the Community of Islam about a loan.”

“Oh,” Special said sheepishly. “That kinda slipped out. Sorry.”

“Yeah, I bet it did.”

“So you think Clayton’s going to marry Akila?”

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Yep. Now answer my question.”

“I don’t know. But if he doesn’t marry her, he’ll probably marry some other woman he meets at the mosque.”

Hearing Jefferson’s confirmation of what she already knew made her heart shudder.

“And if that does happen, it’s no reflection on you.” After a long stretch of silence, he looked over at her. “Are you gonna be okay if he does?”

Special didn’t respond. Her head could definitely handle the loss, but her heart was another story.

Neither one of them heard Vernetta walk into the room. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Girrrlllll,” Special said, jumping up from the chair, “you won’t believe what I dug up. First, we gotta go talk to Lamarr right away. And after that, we’re going to stick it to Girlie Cortez. The information I found out about her will blow your mind!”

“I don’t have a thing to talk to Lamarr about,” Vernetta said, kicking off her shoes. “But I’m very interested in what you found out about Girlie.”

“Lamarr didn’t do it,” Special said. “We need to go over to his house right now so I can tell him about my investigation. He’ll probably be so happy he’ll hook me up with some rich football player.”

Vernetta sat down on the couch next to Jefferson. “Just tell me what you found out about Girlie.”

“Nope,” Special said, stubbornly. “Not until you agree to go with me to Lamarr’s place. And I
do
know where the brother lives. So either you go with me right now or I’m going by myself.”

E
velyn escorted the two detectives to the lobby and returned to the CEO’s office. She found her sister-in-law staring out of the window.

A somber silence draped the room.

“Those detectives are wrong,” Rita said, in a soft, but menacing voice. “Girlie Cortez didn’t turn over those documents to the
Journal,
but I know who did.”

“You do?” Evelyn said. “Who?”

When Rita finally turned around, rage had disfigured her face. “That bitch sitting just outside my office. And after all I’ve done for her!”

She leaned across the desk and slapped the intercom button on her telephone.

“Jane! Get in here!”

“Hold on a minute.” Evelyn ran over to her. “You don’t know that for sure. We should let Human Resources conduct an investigation first.”

Jane scrambled into the room, her hands trembling so badly she could barely hold on to her pad and pen.

“Have a seat,” Rita ordered, pointing to a chair in front of her desk.

Jane sat down and Evelyn protectively stood next to her. “Rita, I really think we should—”

“Did you really think you could get away with this, you stupid bitch!”

Jane drew back in her chair. “I…I…get away with what? I don’t know what you’re—”

“You were the one who turned over those documents to
The Daily Business Journal.
Did you send them to Judi Irving too?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

“You’re a liar!”

The CEO walked around the desk and charged toward Jane. Evelyn jumped in front of her, arms extended, blocking her path.

“Please, Rita,” Evelyn pleaded, “don’t say another word. I’m advising you to cut this conversation short and let Human Resources handle this.”

“You’re the general counsel,” Rita said. “So this is an attorney-client privileged conversation. We don’t need Human Resources.”

“The privilege doesn’t extend to—”

“I don’t care what it extends to. We don’t need to waste time on an investigation. I’m taking care of this here and now.”

Rita stepped around Evelyn and peered down at Jane, pointing a finger inches from her nose.

“I know you gave those documents to
The Daily Business Journal
. I can’t believe you would jeopardize the sale of this company by stabbing us all in the back.”

A tear rolled down Jane’s cheek. “I…I didn’t—”

“You’re a goddamn liar! After all Harlan did for you, this is how you pay him back? And if you think you’re going to testify against me or anyone else connected with this company, you better think again. You stole confidential records and you’re going to jail for it. Now get out of here. You’re fired!”

Jane rose and staggered out of the office.

Evelyn covered her mouth. “What you did was—”

“Call up Girlie Cortez and fire her too.”

“I thought you just accused Jane of turning over those documents, not Girlie.”

“Weren’t you and I in the same damn meeting? That whore was sleeping with Judi Irving’s boyfriend. That’s a major conflict of interest. I should call up her firm’s managing partner right now.”

“You can’t do that,” Evelyn said. “Those detectives don’t want her to know she’s under investigation. And if we fire Girlie now, that’ll definitely tip her off.”

Rita stopped to consider that, then turned her wrath on Evelyn.

“So how are you going to fix this?”

“I’ve been on the phone doing damage control with the PR firm that helped us with that store protest. They’ve already issued a statement denying the story. They’re working with Johnson in Media Relations to develop some talking points.”

“Little good that’s going to do. That report claimed to have documents with my signature on it. But I had no idea any of this stuff was going on.”

Evelyn stared at her sister-in-law with disbelieving eyes. “These charges are serious,” she said. “Investigators are going to go through our books with a fine-tooth comb.”

“I know that,” Rita snapped.

“These are the kind of charges that land CEOs in prison.”

Rita’s back straightened indignantly. “I only signed what I was asked to sign. I had no knowledge of anything inappropriate or illegal.”

“It doesn’t matter how much you knew or didn’t know,” Evelyn advised her. “You’re the CEO and chairman of the board of directors. All fingers are going to be pointing at you.”

“I’m not going down alone on this. You’re my legal counsel. You had a duty to protect me.”

“How could I protect you when you and Hiller kept everything from me?”

“You’re the general counsel of this company. It’s your job to know.”

Evelyn folded her arms defiantly across her chest. “My job is to defend the best interests of this company. And that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.”

“No, you haven’t,” Rita yelled. “If you had, none of this would be happening.”

“You’re unbelievable!” Evelyn said, throwing up her hands. “I’m sorry, but this is one mess that I can’t clean up for you. If you want my advice, you need to find yourself a good criminal attorney because you’re going to need one.”

I
t took a lot of prodding, but Special finally told me what she had uncovered about Tonisha and Girlie. It actually did blow my mind.

Still, I didn’t feel it was necessary to drop everything and run over to Lamarr’s house tonight. I only relented because I feared Special would go without me and because Jefferson agreed to drive us there.

Lamarr lived in Brentwood, a ritzy neighborhood not far from the UCLA campus. His house was near the top of a winding hill, hidden behind high stone walls. During all the time I’d represented him, I’d never visited his home. I was surprised that there was no private gate or intercom system. We drove straight up a wide, cobblestone driveway and parked a few feet from the front door.

“This is going to be fantastic,” Special exclaimed, hopping out of the car. “He’s going to be so happy when he hears what I have to say.”

I opened the car door, but didn’t get out. Despite all the flowers he’d sent and apologies he’d made via voicemail and email, I was still reluctant to face him again. Being here brought back the terror I’d felt that night in my office.

“You okay?” Jefferson asked.

“Yeah,” I lied.

“Are you ever going to tell me what really went down that night in your office?”

Nope.
“Nothing went down.”

“Then why are you afraid to face him?”

“Who said I’m afraid?”

“I did.”

My husband knew me far too well. “I’m fine,” I said, and finally climbed out of the car.

Special was already on the front step, ringing the doorbell like she was the UPS man with a special delivery.

Spotlights powerful enough to light up a football stadium almost made the New England Style two-story glow in the darkness.

“I could definitely see myself living large like this,” Special said, looking around.

Jefferson threw an arm around my shoulders and we fell in behind Special.

“Wait until you see the inside,” Special continued, excitedly. “I saw it on
MTV Cribs
last year. It’s over eight-thousand square feet.”

“Don’t worry,” Jefferson whispered in my ear as we waited for Lamarr to answer the door, “if he gets out of line, I’ll beat him down. Just make sure you’re waiting outside for me with the car running.”

My husband could always make me laugh.

A few seconds later, Lamarr opened the front door. Jefferson and I gaped at him. Special emitted a sharp gasp.

He’d looked a mess that night he showed up at my office, but now Lamarr resembled a homeless bum. He had a few weeks’ growth of beard and his cornrows were loose and ratty like cotton. His puffy eyes were barely open. He was wearing black sweatpants and a filthy T-shirt that used to be white.

Lamarr squinted and shielded his eyes from the light. “What y’all doing here?” There was no anger in his voice, only bewilderment.

“I’m a close friend of Vernetta’s and I have some information about your case,” Special said, taking a step back, bumping into me and Jefferson. “It’s really important and we wanted to tell you about it right away.”

That news sparked no visible reaction from Lamarr. “C’mon in,” he mumbled.

Lamarr’s physical appearance was nothing compared to the interior of his home. The place appeared to be in pre-hoarder stage and smelled like it too. The entryway opened up into a massive sunken living room littered with beer cans, liquor bottles, uneaten food and piles of clothes.

“Uh, excuse the place,” he said, bending down to pick up an empty Cristal champagne bottle. “I had a party a few days ago and my peeps got a little wild.”

All the curtains were closed, which gave the room a cave-like feel. A small table lamp provided the only light.

Special pressed the back of her hand to her nose as we stepped over trash on our journey to the living room.

“This is a damn shame,” Special whispered to me. “It smells like feet up in here. This place was immaculate on
MTV Cribs
.”

We all stood awkwardly in a ragged circle in the middle of the living room.

“Have a seat,” Lamarr finally said.

He didn’t appear to be under the influence of any substance. He just looked beaten down, as if he’d given up on life.

Special sat down first, then shot right back up. “Yuk! That chair is wet!”

“Oh, yeah,” Lamarr said. “Why don’t you sit over there?”

He pointed to a garish mink-covered chair that looked like it might bite. Special decided to join Jefferson and me on the couch.

“So why y’all here?” Lamarr asked.

“I’m a private investigator—well, not yet, but I’m going to be—and I’ve uncovered some information about Tonisha Cosby and her attorney, Girlie Cortez,” Special happily announced. “I have information that proves that you didn’t rape Tonisha.”

Again, no reaction at all from Lamarr.

“Yeah, that’s cool,” he said, frowning. “But it won’t do me any good now. The Legends cut me. Sent me some bullshit letter claiming my conduct was detrimental to the integrity of the league. The police didn’t even charge me with nothin’.”

“You don’t understand,” I said. “We have proof of your innocence.”

“Don’t matter. People still ain’t gonna believe I didn’t rape that girl. You wouldn’t believe how everybody’s been dissin’ me. My agent dropped me before I even got that damn letter. Can you believe that shit? After all the money he made offfa me.”

“Don’t you even want to hear what Special found out?” I asked.

Lamarr shrugged. “Not really. But I would like to uh…” He looked down at his hands. “Can we, uh, have a private conversation? There’s some stuff I need to say.”

I was about to respond, but Jefferson beat me to it. “Whatever you need to say to her, you can say in front of us.”

“It needs to be an attorney-customer discussion.”

Lamarr’s botched reference to the attorney-client privilege made me smile. Despite the way he’d treated me, I was actually feeling sorry for him. I was no longer afraid to be alone with him. At least not with my husband within rescuing distance.

I got up from the couch. “Let’s talk in the kitchen.”

Jefferson gave me a confounded look. “You don’t have to—”

I squeezed his shoulder. “It’ll be fine.”

Lamarr led the way into the kitchen. The place was twice the size of my bedroom and was just as nasty as the rest of the house. Plates with moldy food sat out in the open. A liquid that had spilled on the countertop had hardened into a glaze and a sticky substance on the floor made a squishy sound with every step I took.

“Don’t you have a housekeeper?” I asked.

“I used to.” Lamarr rested his body against the cabinet. “But she quit ’cuz her family told her I might rape her.”

Now that I knew he was an innocent man, my heart went out to him. I almost wanted to give him a hug, but his body odor made me keep my distance. “So what did you want to talk to me about?”

“I just wanted you to know that I…uh…I wasn’t gonna hurt you that night in your office. I was pretty messed up, but I wasn’t gonna do nothin’. I was just messin’ around. I’m not like that. I appreciate everything you did for me.”

“I know.”

“So you believe me?”

“Yeah, I do.”

My response seemed to please him and he smiled for the first time since we’d arrived.

“The information Special uncovered could do a lot to change your situation.”

He hunched his shoulders. “Is it gonna get that verdict reversed?”

“Yeah, I think it might.”

Lamarr’s eyes brightened and he gave me an even bigger smile. This one much more hopeful.

“Okay, then,” he said, scratching his chin through his scraggily beard, “let’s go hear what your homegirl’s got to say.”