Advice of Counsel (The Samuel Collins Series Book 1) (21 page)

I’d been thinking for days about getting even with Larry.  As
far as I was concerned, the fact that he had it out for animals made it all the
more certain that I would exact revenge on behalf of the Siamese.  I’d finally
come up with a plan that I was satisfied with, but I needed to enlist Niki’s
help to pull it off.  He was an hour late in getting to my office, but I was so
absorbed in Datacare documents that I hadn’t even noticed.

“Why don’t you break his leg?” Niki suggested, when he heard
what I had in mind.

“I guess because I don’t have the guts,” I admitted.

“Shit, he broke your cat’s leg.  You want me to do it?” he
offered.

“Let me think about it.”

We made plans for that night, and when Niki left my office I
was so psyched up that I couldn’t wait until midnight.  Niki would get
everything we needed, including a few accomplices, and they would come by my
house to pick me up.  It was after 3:00 a.m. when Niki dropped me back at home,
but I was way too wound up to sleep, so I invited all the boys in and we drank
beer until the sun came up.

When someone knocked on my door the next morning at 7:45, there
were passed-out bodies on all three of my couches.   I dragged myself to the
door and looked through the peek hole to make sure it wasn’t the police.

“Maddie,” I said groggily.  “What’s up?”

“Oh my gosh.  Are you sick?  You look awful.”

“I was up late,” I said, running my hand through my hair trying
to tame it.

“My car won’t start.  I was going to see if you could give it a
jump.”

I groaned.  “Come in.  Let me get my keys.”

Maddie followed me through the house, looking more amused with
each body she passed.  When she came to number three, she finally asked, “Did
you go to a bachelor party or something?”

One of Niki’s friends, Matt, rolled over and lifted his head. 
He looked at Maddie and smiled, then sat up.  “Good morning,” he said, rubbing
his eyes.  “What time is it?”

“Hi.  Almost 8:00 o’clock,” Maddie told him.  I hated the way
they smiled at each other.

“Is this your girlfriend?” Matt asked me.

But before I could answer, Maddie butted in.  “No.  I live next
door.”

I was insulted that in one fell swoop, I was relegated to
neighbor status. But I was even more irked when Matt stepped up and introduced
himself to Maddie.  The two even shook hands, as if to formalize the
introduction.

I grabbed my keys and directed Maddie out of the kitchen. 
“Let’s go,” I said.

“Why don’t you stay and have a cup of coffee?” Matt had the
nerve to ask.

“She needs to get to the office,” I said, not even turning
around.  But Maddie stopped in front of me and turned back to face him.

“I’m late.  But thanks for the offer,” she said in her sweet
southern drawl.  “It was nice to meet you, Matt.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he called out, and this time I did turn
around and saw that he had a huge smile on his face.  I was pissed.  The guy
had the hots for my neighbor and I hated it.

I tried to reason it out while I jump-started Maddie’s car, but
I couldn’t make sense of it.  Why should I care if the guy liked Maddie?  Why
should I care if he had a cup of coffee with her?  She was just my neighbor,
and my secretary, and my client.  And even considering that she was also my
friend, why should it matter that some guy was attracted to her?  And when the
hell had I started thinking of her accent as sounding
sweet
?

All of this I wondered with a pounding headache, while Maddie
sat in her car cranking the damn engine.  She finally gave up and came over to
my window.  It was cold outside and I was freezing my ass off.  I got out and
handed her my keys.

“Just take mine.  I’ll get a ride with Niki and I’ll bring you
home this afternoon.”

“Are you sure?” Maddie asked.

“Positive.  I’m going back to sleep.”

I left my car in her driveway and tromped across my yard and
back inside.  Matt was still smiling.

“Cute neighbor,” he said.

“Really?  I hadn’t noticed,” I said irritably.

“Is she married?”

“She has two very young children,” I said evasively.

“That’s not what I asked,” he said smiling.

“No.  She’s not married,” I admitted.  I wanted to slug the
smile right off his face. He nodded his head like he was thinking but he didn’t
ask any more questions.

Niki came in rubbing his eyes.  “What’d Maddie want?” he asked.

“You know her?” Matt asked, sounding surprised.

“Yeah.  She’s cute, isn’t she?  I keep telling Collins he
should date her.”

“Why don’t you?” Matt asked me.  As if it was any of his
business.

“I have a girlfriend,” I stated.

“Oh yeah.  The Krally girl.  What’s up with that?” Matt asked. 
“Aren’t you afraid she’ll kill you in your sleep?” he laughed.

“I haven’t put her in my will yet,” I said sarcastically.

“Let’s keep it that way,” Niki said, and he slapped me hard on
the back.  “How do you feel?  Is revenge sweet?”

“I’m not sure yet.  I need to check it out in the daylight,” I
said.

Which is exactly what we did.  The four of us loaded into
Niki’s car and headed over to Larry’s house.  He lived in an area of urban
sprawl called Stone Oak where the houses are so close together that neighbors
can pass the Grey Poupon from the window.  There was a Fox News crew driving
away as we pulled onto his street and there was a crowd of people standing in
the street and on the sidewalk in front of Larry’s house, looking and
pointing.  I sat straight up in my seat and looked out the window.  We’d done a
hell of a job.

We’d started on the roof and let the paint work its way down
the sides of the house, and the results were amazing.  It looked like something
straight out of a Stephen King movie.  If you didn’t know better, you’d swear
the house was bleeding to death.  We’d dumped gallon after gallon of blood-red
paint, the same color Larry had used on the Siamese, and it had dripped in a
random pattern all down the walls, over the windows and along the doors.

“It’s incredible,” I said in awe.

It was way better than I’d ever imagined.  We’d done the same
thing to Larry’s truck and boat and, taking in the scene as a whole, I had to
admit that it looked absolutely gruesome.  If it hadn’t been me who’d thought
it up, I’d have sworn that whoever had done it was a complete psychopath – down
to the word “MEOW” I’d scrawled on the rear window of Larry’s truck.

We gawked as long as we could before someone behind us honked. 
I turned around and saw that there was a long procession of cars waiting to see
the spectacle.  The five of us laughed hysterically as Niki drove away from the
house and the next car in line took our place.

“It’s sweet,” I said.

“It is, isn’t it?” Niki said knowingly.

*    *    *    *

When I got to the office, Maddie followed me back to the
kitchen.  She looked around to make sure no one was around, then she lit into
me.

“Are you
insane
!  I saw it on the news.”

“It was already on?  Boy that was fast.”  I was still high and
nothing she could say was going to bring me down.  “Damn.  I’m bummed I missed
it. How did it look?”

“It looked like Charles Manson had been there!  That’s how it
looked!”

“Cool.  They’ll probably show it again at noon.”  I looked at
my watch.  It was already after 11:30.  “Excellent.” I opened the fridge and
took out sandwich meat, cheese, mayo and mustard, then I got the bread out of
the cabinet. “You want me to make you a sandwich?”

“A sandwich?  Samuel, what’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing’s the matter with me,” I said insulted.  “I just
thought you might be hungry.”  She put her hand on my arm and I put the knife
down and looked at her.  “What?” I asked.

“I’m worried about you!  What if you get caught?” 
Quivering
lip
. . .
eyes tearing up
.  I didn’t even let it bother me.

“I’m not going to get caught,” I said laughing.  “If I was
going to get caught, it would have been last night.  Larry’s not about to give
my name.  If he did, everything he’s done would be out in the open.  Trust me
Maddie, he’s not about to say who did it.”

I picked up the knife and resumed making sandwiches.  When I
finished, I slapped one onto a napkin and handed it to Maddie and we sat down
at the kitchen table.

“Thanks,” she said, sulking.

“Stop pouting and be proud of me,” I told her.  “The fucker
broke my cat’s leg and coated him in red paint.  Did you think I was going to
just let it go?”

“No.  But I didn’t know you’d do
that
.”

“Well neither did I.  It took me a while to come up with it,” I
said, swallowing a mouthful of sandwich.  “It’s awesome, isn’t it?”  Just the
thought of it made me smile.

“It’s pretty good,” she finally agreed.  The phone rang and she
got up to answer it.

“Samuel Collins’ office,” she said.  “This is she . . . oh,
Matt . . . whale of course I remember you.” She looked at me and shrugged her
shoulders, then she turned her back to me and continued the conversation. 
Leave it to one of Niki’s friends to bring me down.

“Saturday?” she said, sounding surprised.  “No.  I couldn’t.  I
have two boys . . . Oh really? . . . Yeah, one’s almost four and the other’s
one . . .You do?  How old are yours?. . . So you know how it is . . .”  She
laughed and I wanted to puke.

I turned on the television so I wouldn’t have to listen to any
more of the conversation, but even against my will,  I continued to eavesdrop. 
They talked on and on and by the time they sounded like they were wrapping it
up, the news was starting.

“Whale, if you’re brave enough to include my kids, why not? 
Sure I’ll have breakfast with you.”  She had her back to me but I could tell by
the tone of her voice that she was smiling.  Hell, she was practically
laughing.  When she hung up, I did my best to ignore her.  I turned up the
volume.

“I’m having breakfast on Saturday with your friend, Matt.”

“Why would you want to do that?” I asked, genuinely curious to
know.

“Maybe because he asked.”  She was standing there with her hand
on her hip, giving me a look.  I was just waiting for her to tap her foot.  
“Is there some reason why I shouldn’t?” she asked matter-of-factly.  “Other
than the fact that you’re jealous,” she added.

“That’s ridiculous.  Why should I be jealous of you going to
breakfast with someone?”

“You shouldn’t.  So why are you acting like that?”

I stared at her for a couple of seconds then I dropped my
forehead down and banged it against the table a couple of times.  “I don’t
know,” I told her truthfully when I came back up.

Maddie laughed.  “Is there something wrong with the guy that I
should know about?”

“Well, he’s friends with Niki Lautrec.  That should tell you
something.”  As soon as it came out, I realized the flaw in the statement.

“You’re friends with Niki Lautrec.”

“Yeah, well he’s probably into all kinds of illegal
activities.”

“Oh, you mean like dumping buckets of red paint all over
someone’s house, truck and boat?  Is that the kind of illegal activities he
might be into?”

“For example,” I agreed.  I could feel a smile creeping across
my face as I argued with her.  The truth was, as far as I knew, Matt was a good
guy.  There was no reason Maddie shouldn’t go to breakfast, or even lunch or
dinner with him, for that matter.  “In answer to your question, no, there’s
nothing wrong with the guy that you should know about,” I admitted, then I
qualified it with, “That I know about.”

“Here it is,” Maddie said, pointing to the TV.  I turned up the
volume.

It was a wide-angle shot of Larry’s bleeding house taken from
out by the street.  There was a crowd of people, some of whom I recognized from
when we drove by, and the reporter was standing in the front yard.

It appears to be some sort of satanic ritual that went on
overnight at this house in the Stone Oak area.  When the owner went out to get
his paper this morning, this is what he found.

The camera zoomed in on Larry’s house, then panned over to the
truck and boat.  There wasn’t a tree or a stick of landscaping in sight and
that somehow made the scene even creepier.  It looked almost as impressive on
TV as it did in person.

“Meow?” Maddie said laughing.

“You like that?”

She shook her head.

The camera zoomed in. 
“I have no idea who could have done
it
,
”
Larry was saying.
  “I didn’t hear a thing
.
”

“That’ll teach you to fuck with my cat, you asshole!” I yelled
at the TV.

The phone rang and Maddie got up to answer it.  “It’s Niki,”
she said, and she handed me the phone.

“Are you watching?” I asked.

“It’s even better than breaking his leg,” he said laughing.

“It’s great,” I agreed.  “Thanks for you help.”

“No problem.  You coming to my party?”

I was hard-pressed to say no right then, and he knew it. 
“We’ll be there.”

“Good.  Let me know if you need anything else.”

The following Monday, I sent the notices for Larry’s and the
CEO’s depositions.  I was pumped after painting Larry’s house.  Every time I
thought of it, I got a nostalgic high, and I realized that it was the feeling
that Niki referred to when he’d claim that crime was more fun.  In this case,
it certainly was.  It didn’t make up for the Siamese’ broken leg, but every
time I’d see him hobbling along, I definitely felt like I had obtained
vengeance.

The Siamese had become an indoor cat, at least until the cast
came off, and he had taken to it like he was born to the status.  I broke down
and bought a litter box so he wouldn’t have to go outside to do his business. 
I couldn’t imagine that a cat could be adept with only three functioning legs,
and I didn’t want to risk anything else happening to him while he couldn’t
defend himself.

There would be periods where he’d disappear without a trace for
hours at a stretch.  The first time it happened, I was concerned that he’d
somehow gotten out, even though I knew none of the doors had been opened.  I
searched in vain every nook and cranny of the damn house.  It started out
casually with me calling “
kitty kitty
” and looking under beds and large
furniture where, with my minimal knowledge of cats, I assumed he had to be. 
Then after looking in all the obvious places, I went back and repeated the
process, thinking I had to have missed him.   When the second and third rounds
came up catless, I started looking in less obvious place, although I was
skeptical a cat could even fit in some of them.  I looked in every damn closet
and cabinet in the house, in drawers, in boxes, in the washer and dryer, behind
the fridge and stove.  I even looked in the damn dishwasher, but the bastard
was nowhere to be found.  My high-pitched “kitty kitty” calls, eventually
turned into frustrated curses of “
Where the hell are you, you bastard
!”
until he finally reappeared out of the blue back on the hearth.

“Where the hell have you been?” I asked angrily.  I’d wasted an
hour and a half looking for him, not to mention that I’d let myself worry over
a stupid cat.  He looked at me coolly and meowed.

From then on, he’d play his game of hide and seek on a daily
basis.  One minute he’d be on the hearth, and the next he would vanish, until
after about a week, when I caught the bastard coming out of hiding.  I was
sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace working on some files when he
came swooping down over my head from my 7-foot armoire.  My files went sailing
and I spilled coffee everywhere as I jumped up yelling, not knowing what was
happening.   The bastard landed at my feet and looked up at me indifferently.
He scared me so badly that I felt like kicking him across the room, but I was
shocked and hugely impressed, not so much that he could get down, but that he
could get up there in the first place.  Even with four good legs, I’d have
sworn it was an impossible feat.

*    *    *    *

The defendants noticed Maddie’s deposition at the same time I
noticed theirs, so we blocked out three days during the next month with the
intention of taking all of the depos at once.  It was going to be terrible
timing for me because Landra’s hearing before the grand jury was scheduled for
the next week, but it was the only time I had three consecutive days open for
two months.  The defendants would take Maddie’s deposition first, then I’d take
Larry’s and finally the CEO’s.

As the time approached, Maddie started expressing concern about
being deposed, and again, I wished that I didn’t care what happened to her. 
Things would be so much easier if she was just another client.

I knew from experience that the defendants’ lawyers would try
to tear Maddie apart, but I was surprised that they had noticed a video depo. 
Maddie was pretty and likable and I knew first-hand that she looked good on
video.  Hell, even with her chest hooked up to the booby trap she looked good. 
That would go in our favor because sometimes looks are everything, and that’s especially
true when dealing with juries.  I’d won a case before based strictly on the
fact that my client was beautiful and the guy we were suing was a toad.

But as much as I reassured Maddie that things would be fine, I
knew it would be rough.  I’d been in a deposition before with these same
attorneys where my client ended up in the bathroom in tears, and that was just
with the questions about her background.  They hadn’t even gotten to the meat
of the case before she disintegrated.    I told her to buck-up or we were going
to lose the damn case, and she finally got her act together and came through.

The subject matter in Maddie’s case guaranteed a volatile
atmosphere at all three depositions, but especially at Maddie’s.  The lawyers
would be probing into personal matters that were none of anyone’s business. 
They would accuse Maddie of being promiscuous; they’d insinuate that she came
on to Larry; and if all else failed, they would twist her words into something
that she never said.

Of course, their bullying tactics could backfire on them too,
because just as juries like pretty girls, they don’t like seeing pretty girls
being abused by a bunch of high-powered lawyers either.  The more we worked on
her testimony, the more convinced I was that Maddie would do fine.  And by the
day of the depo, Maddie seemed more than up to the challenge.

“Just tell the truth,” I told her in the end.  “Answer their
questions with a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ when you can.  If the question requires more
than that, answer succinctly only what was asked.  Don’t volunteer anything. 
Don’t let them twist your words.”

“Okay,” she said quietly.

We were sitting in the two chairs in front of my desk while the
court reporter and videographer set up their equipment in the conference room.

“I’m not going to object to their questions unless they are
really out of line, so I need you to hold your own. You need to be strong and
confident.  Remember, you didn’t do anything wrong.  Don’t let them make you
feel like you did.”

“Okay, Samuel. We’ve been over all of this.  I’m ready.”

“I know you are.  You’ll do great.”  I squeezed her hand and
she gave me a nervous smile.  “Let’s go.”

The defendants were well represented.  They must have wanted to
intimidate me because there were three attorneys, plus the corporate rep from
Atlanta. They outnumbered us 2-to-1 but I didn’t care.  I always liked a good
challenge and these guys promised to give me one.  The lead attorney was a
pompous son of a bitch that I’d gone to law school with.  His name was Richard
Stollens, but I took to calling him Dick right from the start, despite his
protest.  There was a mutual disrespect and loathing between us and I figured
he’d weaseled his way into the lead position just because I was Maddie’s
attorney.

Maddie was sworn-in and Dick started out with the usual
background questions.  Name, address, phone number, age, marital status . . .  
He sounded like a drone.  I’d heard he’d gotten married the previous year and I
couldn’t help wonder what kind of woman would marry Dick Stollens. 
Homely
,
I decided.

It didn’t take long for the questioning to get ugly.  Old Dick
never did know how to finesse his way in through the back door. The jury would
hate him.  I sat back and stretched out my legs.

“Ms. Griffin, what is your relationship with Larry Roeberts?”
Dick asked.

“He was my immediate supervisor at Datacare.”

“Have you ever slept with Mr. Roeberts?” Dick asked.

“Slept with him?” Maddie said unflinching.  “No.”

Dick looked up from his notes over at his partner, then over at
Maddie.  “You never slept with Mr. Roeberts?” he repeated.

“No.  I never
slept
with him, Mr. Stollens,” she said
coolly.  “I assume you are referring to the time he blackmailed me into having
sex with him so I wouldn’t lose my job at Datacare.”  She paused and leveled
her eyes on Dick.  “I would never characterize that repulsive act as having ‘
slept
’
with Mr. Roeberts.”  She crossed her arms in front of her and leaned in on her
elbows, completely composed, and it came off as such an intimidating gesture
that Dick moved back noticeably in his chair while Maddie continued.

“
Sleeping
with someone gives the connotation of a
mutually agreed-upon tryst, Mr. Stollens.  It gives the impression of a
mattress . . . of the participants falling asleep together and hence waking up
together.  So, have I ever slept with Larry Roeberts?  No, Mr. Stollens.  I
have never
slept
with your client.”

So much for brevity and not volunteering information.

Dick cleared his throat.  “But you did have sexual intercourse
with Mr. Roeberts?”

“I had sex with him one time so I wouldn’t lose my job.”

“Do you have a history of having sex with you supervisors, Ms.
Griffin?”

“I beg your pardon?” she asked.

“When you had sex with Mr. Roeberts, was that first time you
had ever had sex with one of your supervisors?”

Maddie looked confused for a second then her face flushed.  “My
husband was my supervisor when I met him,” she admitted.

“So you do have a pattern of sleeping with . . . err . . .
having sex with your supervisors,” Dick stated.

“Is that a question?” Maddie asked unfazed.

Dick squirmed in his seat.  “I would go back to my original
question.  Do you have a history of having sex with your supervisors?”

“Whale, historically speaking, I guess I must.  I’ve only had
the two supervisors.  Of course, I actually
slept
with my husband.  I
wasn’t coerced into having sex with him.   I wasn’t promised favors or
threatened with the loss of my job.  With my husband, the relationship was
completely consensual.  Whereas with your client, it was all but rape.”

Maddie was holding her own just like I’d hoped she would.  In
fact, she was doing even better than I would have ever predicted.  Whatever
Dick threw at her, she had a reasonable, well thought-out response, and I could
see the frustration setting in on Dick’s brow.  He wanted to make her lose her
cool, but it was obvious who was in control, and it wasn’t Dick.  He tried
another tack.

“How many men have you slept . . .err . . . had sex with in
your life?  If you know,” he added.

I could have objected but I didn’t.   He was baiting her and I
needed to see how Maddie would hold up on the witness stand.  A trial would be
much more brutal than a deposition, and if she couldn’t take it in a depo,
she’d never make it at trial.

She remained calm and collected. “Four.”

Dick’s face dropped and I almost laughed out loud.  He’d never
be able to portray Maddie as a tramp.  She was much too genuine in her answers
-- way too likable a witness.  If Dick knew about the correlation of the timing
of her husband’s death with Larry’s request-for-sex scheme, he didn’t mention
it.  But I sure as hell would.  And if the jury didn’t hate Larry before,
they’d crucify him when they found out what state of mind Maddie was in when
she agreed to his blackmail.

After four hours of questioning, Dick hadn’t gotten anything
out of Maddie that would help his case.   I felt great.  I hadn’t said a word
during the entire depo, but I spoke up when it got to be almost 1:00 o’clock.

“Excuse me,” I said.  “Are we about finished here?  Because if
not, I’m going to propose that we break for lunch.”

“I think we’re just about done,” he said, flipping through his
notes.  His demeanor had changed over the course of the deposition and I
couldn’t help think that I’d love to get him into a game of poker.  Old Dick
looked like he was about to cry.  I decided his wife must be a masochist.

Dick flipped through page after page for three or four minutes,
not asking any more questions but not concluding the depo either.  I pushed my
chair back and stood up.

“We’re taking a break. Let’s eat,” I told Maddie, and I pulled
her chair back for her.

She smiled demurely and I got the distinct impression that she
was pleased with the way things had gone – almost as much as I was.  I looked
at my watch.  “Let’s resume at 2:00 o’clock,” I suggested, but I didn’t wait
around for Dick’s answer.

I waited until we got to the restaurant to gloat.  “You were
incredible,” I said, and I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.

“Do you think so?” she said, chewing on her cuticle.

“I know so.”  I swatted her hand away from her mouth.  “Stop
doing that.”

“I can’t help it,” she said, shaking her hands out.  “Now that
I’m out of there I feel totally unstrung.  I can’t stand that lawyer.  He’s a
horrible man.  I wish it was already over with.”

“There can’t be much more he can ask.  He’s grasping at straws
as it is, just hoping he’ll stumble onto something. You’re doing great,
Maddie,” I assured her.

“I felt pretty good while I was in there, but now I just feel
like crying.”

I took a close look at her and realized how drained she was. 
It showed in her eyes and on her face.

“Why don’t you,” I suggested.  “It might make you feel better.”

She gave me a feeble smile.  “When it’s over.”

I decided that that should be sooner than later and when we got
back to the deposition I pulled Dick aside.  “Let’s try to finish this up. 
You’ve had her for over four hours and you haven’t gotten a thing out of her.  
Hell, the more information you get out of my client, the deeper your client’s
troubles get.  Why don’t you cut your losses and go home?” I suggested.

“You haven’t changed at all,” he said irritably.

“Neither have you.”

I got the feeling that Dick was actually finished with his
questioning before we left for lunch, but that he wasn’t going to let Maddie
off yet, just to spite me.  It was almost like he had to get in the last word,
even if he had to resort to making up stupid questions.  The afternoon session
was even less helpful to him than the morning session, if that was possible. 
Basically, Maddie ate his lunch.  When the depo was finally over it was almost
4:00 o’clock.  I clapped Dick on the shoulder as he was leaving.