Before She Dies (6 page)
“Fine.”
Swallowing the tension in her throat, Charlotte crossed and opened the front door. Grady’s fist was poised in the air ready to knock again. For a moment, he stared at her, stunned into silence. She’d changed—a lot—since the long-ago night he’d put her on the Metro bus to Alexandria. His gaze moved over her, assessing and calculating, before a slow, dangerous smile curved thin lips. “Hello, Grace.”
Blood rushed to Charlotte’s head, making her temples pound. She’d not heard that name in eighteen years. “My name is Charlotte Wellington.”
“Yeah, I saw you on the television last night. Sounds like you tore it up at that trial yesterday. Got to say I was surprised to see you. I always figured you’d have left the area after all these years.”
Tension seared her nerves. “What do you want, Grady?”
If he noticed her unease, he didn’t seem to care as he glanced beyond her into the reception area. “Aren’t you going to invite me in? Looks mighty fancy inside.”
She shifted and blocked his view. “What do you want, Grady?”
His gaze thinned, the pretense of civility melting like ice on a scorching day. What emerged was the hard cold man who had been her stepfather. “You always could piss me off in no seconds flat.”
“Get to the point or leave.”
“I raised you to respect your elders better than that, didn’t I, Grace?”
“You tracked me down after all this time to issue a lesson in good manners? I find that a hard one to swallow.”
He slid gnarled hands in the pockets of his jeans and leaned forward. “Invite me in and make nice, or I swear everyone in this town will know you are not some fancy attorney but a lowlife carnie who did what she had to do to put pennies in her pocket.”
The scents of the carnival—tobacco, cotton candy, popcorn, and grease—wafted off him, and instantly she was transported back to a time when she’d lived her days in fear and want. Despite half a lifetime of creating Charlotte Wellington, Grady could smash her image with a few words.
“Come inside. But do not call me Grace.”
His smile flashed again, quick and razor-sharp. “Now that is more like it ... Ms. Wellington.”
Charlotte stood back and waited for him to enter her reception area. Past and present had merged, and eighteen years’ worth of fear, regrets, and dread came to fruition. “What do you want, Grady?”
He took his time surveying the room, taking in the oil landscape paintings, the Oriental rugs, the sleek mahogany receptionist desk and the gold-embossed sign that read
Wellington and James.
Wellington and James.
“Mighty fancy, baby girl.” He sniffed and shook his head. “Mighty fancy.”
“Don’t call me baby girl.”
“You liked it when I called you that back in the day.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “I never liked it, and if you haven’t noticed, back in the day is long gone.”
He shook his head and winked at her. “You can rewrite your past for all your fancy friends, but you and I both know the real story.”
Tension coiled in her belly. “What do you want, Grady?”
“Can’t I just come and see you, baby girl?”
Grady had entered her life when she was eight and her sister Mariah ten. Her mother, reeling from her latest breakup, had met Grady when the carnival had come to Knoxville, Tennessee. Before it broke camp three weeks later, her mother had moved them into his RV. By the age of eight, Charlotte had been in five different schools and lived in nine different motels in nine different towns. This move in her young mind was as temporary as the others. But for reasons she’d never understood, Charlotte’s mother and Grady had forged some kind of bond, and before Christmas of that same year, they married. Her mother, Doris, had started working in the carnival’s Madame Divine tent as the resident psychic, while Grace and Mariah did odd jobs around the carnival.
It had gone fairly well for a time. Her mother was happy. Mariah had begun sleeping again. And she’d been able to finally keep the books she’d accumulated at yard sales. But within seven or eight months, Grady rediscovered the bottle and proved to be a nasty drunk. Her mother and Grady shared five years of explosive bliss, and when Doris died, her daughters remained with Grady. The time would have been miserable if not for Mariah.
Laughter from Charlotte’s coworkers drifted from the back conference room, prompting her to lower her voice a notch. “You never do anything without a reason. What do you want? Money?”
He glanced toward the laughter and then grinned, still taking pleasure in her unease. “I don’t need your money. Though it sure does look like you’re doing real fine for yourself.”
Nothing she could say would drive him faster to the point he’d come to make. Grady would take his sweet time.
“You were always a prickly one. The worrier of my two girls.”
“You were good at giving me enough to worry about.” Bitterness dripped from the words.
“Maybe. Maybe.” He walked to the receptionist desk and picked up a crystal paperweight. For several seconds he studied it. “I’ve been sober for eighteen years.”
“Good for you.”
He tossed the paper weight like a worn baseball. “I need your legal help.”
The paper weight had been a gift to Iris last year. It had been hand made by a glassmaker at Alexandria’s Torpedo Factory, an artist enclave on Union Street. It had cost six hundred dollars.
She took the paper weight from him. “I saw the article in the paper and know the carnival is in town. Did one of your boys get arrested?”
He curled his empty fingers and lowered them to his side. “I could see where you’d think that. The boys do tend to mix it up from time to time.”
“Drunk in public. Theft. Fighting. Your employees have a talent for getting into trouble. And I have no intention of helping any one of them.”
He arched a brow. “You got some attitude in you, girl.”
“And your point is?”
“Maybe I could bring you down a peg, and let the folks in the back know that you didn’t come from such refined stock. Maybe I should tell them you was born a low-life carnie just like me.”
Threats were par for the course for a defense attorney. Most either rolled off her back or amused her. This one struck at the core.
But she also knew Grady well enough. If she showed weakness or caved in to his demands, he’d own her. She’d buy his silence for a time, but there would be more and more favors. He’d worm into her life like a cancer, and in the end still tell everyone about the past she wanted to forget.
“Go ahead. Tell them. And when you’re finished, get the hell out of my life.”
Gray eyes narrowed and glared as if he were dealing with a disobedient child.
When she’d been a kid, that look had scared her— it still did a little—but she’d gotten much better at bluffing. “Now or never.”
He hesitated. Waited.
She waited, barely blinking.
Finally, he nodded, grinned, and bowed his head slightly. “Now, baby girl, I did not mean for this to turn into a pissing match. I’ve come with hat in hand to see if you can help me. For old times’ sake.”
This victory of wills was small, but a first. Grady never did anything hat in hand. “I won’t help you or any of your carnies get out of jail. I’m done with that life, Grady. There is no going back for me.” Her normally controlled voice had slipped back into an accent she’d worked so hard to destroy.
“I wouldn’t be asking for me or any of those slobs that pretend to work for me.”
She shrugged. “Then why are we having this conversation?”
“I came about Sooner.”
Hearing the name smacked her gut like a one-two punch. She could feel the color drain from her face as she scrambled to remain stoic. The last time Charlotte had seen Sooner, the girl had been eight days old.
Regret and sadness scorched her, and for an instant she couldn’t draw in a breath. She’d thought about that baby often and of the night she’d left her behind. “You didn’t give me a choice, as I remember.”
“It wasn’t hard to get you to leave. You’d been dreaming about leaving for years.”
“Mariah had died. I couldn’t handle staying.”
“You didn’t have the grit to stay.”
“I was sixteen, Grady. Not more than a child myself.”
“Tell that to the baby girl who looks so much like Mariah that it’ll take your breath away.”
Tears welled in her eyes, and for several seconds she could not speak for fear her voice would crack. “You told me you were going to put Sooner up for adoption. You said she’d have a real home.”
He rubbed his clean-shaven chin. “I decided it was best she stay with me.”
“What?” Her head spun. Of all the scenarios she’d imagined over the years, this was not one of them. “You swore on Mariah’s grave you’d give her a real home.”
“I gave her a real home.” He straightened his shoulders. “I did right by the girl.”
“If you kept her, you didn’t do right by her.”
“She turned out all right. She’s smart and quick.”
Bitterness soured her stomach as she imagined that innocent baby growing up in the grit and dirt of the carnival. “Where is she now, Grady?”
“Got herself arrested for shoplifting from a store owner.”
“What kind of store?” Dark, heartbreaking scenarios swirled through her mind.
“Crystals, cards, bracelets. Knickknack shit. She’s always liked that kind of stuff. Makes sense I suppose since she is the new Madame Divine.”
Anger choked her throat. “You put her to work in the tent?”
“She wanted to work.”
“Why isn’t she in school?”
“She got herself a good education. Homeschooled but it’s worked out fine. She’s smart as a whip.”
All the hopes and dreams she’d had for Sooner dried up and blew away like dust. “Not so smart. She’s been arrested.”
“She didn’t do it. She said the shopkeeper made a pass at her, and when she told him to fuck off, he got mad. He called the cops, whining about stolen crystals. He held her until the cops showed.”
To cope with emotions too extreme to name, she focused on the facts. Her mind clicked through the consequences of shoplifting. “What was the item?”
“Some fancy crystal. Expensive from what I hear.”
“Does she have an arrest record?”
Gray eyes thinned. “No. She’s a good kid.”
“Where is she now?”
“In court. Arraigned today. Maybe right now.”
Charlotte stared at him a long moment. Nothing could have dragged her back into Grady’s world. Nothing. Except Sooner.
And he knew that.
“I’ll get my briefcase.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No, don’t. In fact, I don’t even want to see you near the courthouse. You don’t mix well with cops, and I don’t need to deal with your temper on top of everything else.”
“I won’t lose my temper.”
That made her smile. “Of course you will. You always do.”
Grady slid his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “You’ll take care of it then?”
“I will.” She checked her watch. “What’s her full name?”
“Sooner Mariah Tate.”
“Tate.”
“Sure. It’s a good name.”
Facts. Think about the facts. Morning court will be in session for at least another hour. “If I hurry, I might catch her case.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, Grady. Just stay away from me.”
Chapter 4
Tuesday, October 19, 10:15 a.m.
Charlotte reached the courthouse fifteen minutes later. She hustled up the front steps in her heels and dashed up to the line for the metal detectors. Normally, the wait irritated her. Today it made her want to scream. A man in front of her kept setting off the scanner, which required him to return and empty more from his pockets.
When it was Charlotte’s turn to pass, she made it through without a glitch and then quickly grabbed her personal items and briefcase as they passed through the scanner. She dashed up the stairs to the second floor courtroom and quietly slipped inside general court. Taking a seat in the back, she scanned the room. There were at least six girls being arraigned. Three were dressed like hookers, one wore ragged jeans with slumped shoulders, one looked drunk, and the last sat alone and quiet facing the judge. The last girl had long dark hair that brushed the middle of her back. Instantly, Charlotte’s gaze went to the last girl. The hair, the narrow breadth of her shoulders, and the way she tilted her head to the right instantly reminded her of Mariah.
The courtroom melted away for a second and she was transported back to an afternoon when two teenaged sisters sat in the trailer.
“God, Grace, do you have to brush my hair so hard,” Mariah wailed.
“Stop being a baby. You said you wanted tight braids to go with your Indian costume, and that’s what I’m giving you.”
“Not that tight.”
“Stop. I’d kill for your hair.”
“You would not.”
“I would.” The thick mane was so black, blue highlights shimmered in the strands when the light hit just right.
Once they’d dressed, the sisters were going to a Halloween party at the local high school. Mariah was the Indian and Grace was the cowboy. Neither attended regular school, and though it never bothered Mariah, it did bother Grace. Whenever they were in a town, Grace would check to see what functions were being held at the area schools. They gravitated toward the big fall and spring events: football games, plays, homecoming, and prom, knowing blending would be easier. They’d dress, hitch a ride to the school, and for a few hours they’d mingle and pretend that they were regular kids.
“The next case is the Commonwealth versus Sooner Mariah Tate. She’s been charged with credit card theft, petty larceny, and resisting arrest.”
Charlotte glanced at the bailiff and then to the judge. What was the judge’s name? Rosen. Judge Silvia Rosen. The graying pale woman didn’t raise her gaze from the papers on the bench. “Will the defendant rise?”
The girl with the long dark hair rose and for a moment turned her head in profile. Charlotte’s breath caught. The girl was the image of Mariah, and for a few seconds it felt as if Mariah had returned from the dead. Tears choked Charlotte’s throat.
Charlotte swallowed, shifted her gaze to the judge, rose, and moved with purpose and direction down the center courtroom aisle. Clearing her throat, she moved beside the girl, who now stood in front of the judge.
“Judge Rosen,” Charlotte said. “Charlotte Wellington. I am counsel for the defense.” She didn’t offer a glance in Sooner’s direction but sensed the girl’s confusion and relief.
The judge lifted a somewhat surprised gaze to Charlotte. “Ms. Wellington, this isn’t your normal beat.”
“No, it is not, Your Honor. But I’ve been retained to represent Ms. Tate.”
“Very well, Ms. Wellington. How does your client plead?”
“Not guilty. And I move that the charges be dropped.”
Silver bracelets jangled from Sooner’s wrist as she dug long fingers through her hair. She shifted her stance as if she wanted to speak.
The judge made a note. “Why is that?”
“This is my client’s first offense. She just turned eighteen a week ago.”
“And the creep tried to assault me,” Sooner said. Her voice had the same rusty quality as Mariah’s. “He planted those crystals in my purse. I didn’t even know they were there. He’s just mad because I wouldn’t sleep with him and I called him fat.”
A rumble of chuckles passed through the courtroom, prompting the judge to raise her gaze and silence everyone with a look. “The police report mentions your complaint that he attempted sexual assault, but there is no evidence to support the claim.”
“It’s the truth,” Sooner said.
Charlotte held up a manicured hand, silencing the girl. “I know the court’s dockets are full and there are more important cases to consider.”
The judge stared at the attorney with a cynical eye. They both knew that this case, a first offense, did not warrant a great deal of her time. “All right, counselor, I’ll bite. What do you suggest?”
“Charges be dismissed.”
The suggestion seemed to amuse the judge. “Just like that?”
“She has no priors. And she is young. But if the court wishes, I can prepare an extensive case on her behalf.”
The judge studied Charlotte. “Why her? Why now?”
Because I never should have left her with Grady. “My practice is dedicating more time to pro bono work.”
“Yes, I heard your summation was something to see yesterday. However, this case won’t get you much publicity.”
“Nevertheless, I am fully committed to the defense.”
The judge drummed her fingers on the bench. “All right, I’ll concede. But your reputation is bailing this kid out, counselor.” The judge didn’t hesitate and rapped her gavel. “Charges are dismissed, but if Ms. Sooner Tate gets into trouble again, it’s your hide, counselor.”
“Agreed.”
The judge hit her gavel on the bench. “Case dismissed.”
Sooner looked at Charlotte, her dark eyes searching and angry. “Did I just admit that I did it?”
As the bailiff read the next set of charges, Charlotte took the girl tightly by the arm and led her out of the courtroom.
Outside in the busy hallway, Sooner pulled free and glared at Charlotte. “I didn’t do it.”
“The charges were dismissed.”
This close, standing face to face, Charlotte got her first real look at the girl. She had long dark hair and olive skin like Mariah’s, but her eyes were as green as Charlotte’s. She was slender, as tall as Charlotte, and held herself with surprising poise. Her billowy loose dress was sleeveless, revealing not only a slender figure underneath but also a tiger tattoo on the inside of her right forearm.
“Yeah, but it sounds like I’m on some kind of watch list for the next year.”
“We both are.” Charlotte had a thousand questions for the girl about her life. “If you keep your nose clean, then we won’t have a problem.”
“Hey, I was just shopping.” Sooner’s raised voice caught the attention of several passersby. “The creep expected more because I work at the carnival.”
“Lower your voice.”
Sooner folded her arms over her chest and looked almost as if she were pouting like a kid. “He was gross.”
“Maybe it’s time to find yourself another job.”
“Working the Madame Divine tent is a good gig. And it sure beats slinging fast food or straightening the bottles at the baseball toss.”
Anger, grief, and sadness swirled around her and she raced to keep ahead of them. “I don’t know what to tell you, Sooner. The tent is not the best place for a kid. Neither is the carnival.”
Sooner shrugged. “Beats the streets.”
“That sounds like something Grady would say.” Bitterness added bite to the words.
Her eyes narrowed. “Grady said I had an aunt who was a fancy attorney but I didn’t believe him.”
“He said that?”
“Yeah. But if you know Grady, he says a lot of stuff. So why would a fancy attorney/aunt like you do something Grady asked?”
“I did it for you.”
She’d often wondered what she’d say to Sooner if she ever saw her again. She’d assumed she’d feel love or tenderness, not irritation. “How about you just thank me for keeping you out of jail?”
“They wouldn’t have sent me to jail.”
“You don’t think so?”
“Grady said not to worry when he came to visit me in jail.”
Charlotte snorted. “And we both know Grady never lies.”
“He has to have something. Aunt or no, a fancy woman like you doesn’t mix with people like me.”
I was a girl like you.
“Just do us both a favor and keep your nose clean.”
“Just do us both a favor and keep your nose clean.”
“You look upset.”
“I’m not.” Heat rose in her body and tears burned the back of her throat. It was too much seeing Sooner ... seeing Mariah. There was so much to say and no adequate words.
Overwhelmed, she hurried down the stairs, telling herself that it was okay to run. She’d done her good deed for the day. She and Sooner might have connected a very long time ago, but clearly Sooner was all grown up, no doubt wise beyond her years. She didn’t need Charlotte.
And still when she reached the front door of the courthouse, she glanced back. Sooner’s head was turned and she was talking to a man. He was grinning and clearly his interests in her were not very pure. Sooner’s stance suggested that she understood exactly what kind of effect she had on him.
Mariah had been like that. Even at sixteen Mariah could make any man, no matter how straightlaced, old or young, want her.
Charlotte turned from Sooner, and for a moment wondered how different their lives would have been if she’d stayed with the carnival or taken the child with her.
“Focus on what you can fix,” Charlotte muttered as she pushed through the front door of the courthouse and headed down the steps.
As she glanced down the steps toward the street, she spotted a very familiar set of broad shoulders. Detective Daniel Rokov. His tall build set him head and shoulders above most in a crowd, as did the finely tailored suit that tapered so perfectly from his broad shoulders to his lean waist. He’d worn that suit yesterday. He’d answered that page and realized he’d not have time to go home and change.
Early this morning just as she’d reached for her purse at the motel room, he’d grabbed her by the hand, tugged her toward him, and kissed her. She’d leaned into his warmth as if she’d never been touched. Encouraged, he’d cupped her face and kissed her a second time. She’d wanted him so much.
“Have dinner with me,” he whispered by her ear. “And no dodging the question this time.”
Her perfume still clung to his skin. “You didn’t seem to mind my artful dodging.”
“I want to know more about you.”
“Getting to know each other isn’t part of the deal.”
“What is the deal?”
I don’t know anymore. “Sex.”
He traced her jaw with his thumb. “Maybe it’s time to start thinking outside the box.”
The easy freedom they’d promised in the beginning had vanished. And that was not good. Sleeping with a cop was one thing but dating one—especially one like Rokov—was another. He wouldn’t be content with pieces of her. He’d want everything: present, future, and past.
“We shouldn’t see each other anymore.”
His pager went off again, and when he’d glanced at the number, his face had darkened. “This isn’t over, counselor.”
He was the last person she needed to see right now. Her nerves were raw, her defenses down, and Rokov would detect the weakness and use it.
Charlotte pulled her dark sunglasses from her purse and put them on as she moved toward him. Of course, there’d be no avoiding him. But then why should they dance around each other? They were adults. His partner, Jennifer Sinclair, said something, and it prompted a smile that softened the warrior’s visage.
However, when he glanced up and shifted his gaze to her, the smile faded. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes and tossed back her reflection. A slight ripple of tension moved through his body as he took a step toward her.
She hesitated, managed a professional smile, and quickly riffled through the endless small talk topics at her disposal. Weather was safe. Cases were not, even if she was tempted to ask what had summoned him away this morning.
Sooner Tate stepped into Charlotte’s line of sight, cutting off her view of Rokov. “Hey, thanks for what you did in there. I know I was a bit of a bitch and I’m sorry.”
She glanced beyond the girl to Rokov. He tossed a questioning look her way and then turned his gaze back to his partner.
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