Deadly Aim (19 page)

Joe pushed his chair back and got to his feet, apparently ready for them to leave. She stood as well. Randy leaned across the desk to shake hands with Joe. “We’ll be in touch.”

“Oh, and Angel,” Joe said, calling her back. “I talked to Dr. Campbell this morning. Says you weren’t planning on going back in. Not a good idea. I think you should sign on for a six-week stint.”

She nodded. With all that had gone on in the last few days, she was ready to admit she might need a good shrink after all.

“Listen,” Joe added, “when you see Frank, tell him hello from me. I thought I might go up and see him sometime tomorrow.”

“I’m sure he’d appreciate that.”

Joe went back to his desk, head bent over some paperwork. She could see no hint of empathy or compassion now. No “I’m sorry this is happening to you” or “We’re behind you on this.” He
clearly wanted to be rid of the entire incident—and the woman who’d created it. She felt as though she’d been cut off, left to drift in a raging ocean with nothing to hold on to.

Minutes later, Angel and Randy stepped outside into bright sunshine.

Randy glanced at his watch. “I have to be back in Portland before dinner. Is there a place close by where we can get some lunch? There are some things I’d like to go over with you.”

“Um, sure.” Angel led the way, walking a block toward the water to Earth’s Bounty. “This place serves mostly vegetarian, but they have wild fish and organic chicken.”

“Sounds good to me.” Randy reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a white cloth hanky and, leaving it folded, wiped his brow. “Organic chicken?”

“That’s what I call it. It’s like free range or something. They raise them in big pens where they can roam free and eat natural grains. There aren’t any chemicals in their food.”

“So are you a vegetarian?”

“Me? Hardly. I just like their food.”

“Hmm.”

Angel had to hurry to keep up with his long, determined strides. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” Randy slowed his pace.

“You don’t seem too interested in this case. In fact, both times we’ve met you acted like you’d rather have been somewhere else.”

He ducked his head, looking sheepish. “Sorry you feel that way. I apologize if I’ve given you that impression.”

“So you are interested?”

“In representing you? Sure.” They walked several minutes before he spoke again. “Look, I need to be honest with you. My wife is having a baby soon and... well, she was going in for an ultrasound today. Guess my mind has been more with her than with you. I’m sorry.”

Angel grinned. “Why didn’t you say so? We don’t need to talk now.”

“Thanks, but I have to eat lunch anyway, and there are a couple of things we need to go over.”

They reached the restaurant, a grayish tan two-story house with green and purple trim. The Victorian showplace had been built in 1910, and with the remodeling it looked as elegant now as it must have back then. It sat up from the water about fifty feet and had a deck out the back where customers could eat if the weather cooperated. Angel and Randy sat on the deck. A light breeze ducked in and out between the umbrellas.

“This is a nice spot. Do you come here a lot?”

“About once a week.” She picked up her menu and spotted Brandon sitting inside with his father and his brother, Carl. They hadn’t seen her, or at least they gave no indication that they had. Brandon didn’t look too pleased about being there. His father leaned forward and said something, causing Brandon to put down his napkin. He pushed back his chair, then got up and walked out. Carl started to get up as well, but his father laid a restraining hand on his arm. Mr. Lafferty rubbed the back of his neck and took a drink. She’d have to remember to ask Brandon about it later. That is, if she saw him later.

Angel turned back to Randy, who was still studying the menu. A waitress came by with their water. “What can I get you?”

Randy ordered a turkey sandwich with salad on the side. Angel ordered a chicken salad, and, since they didn’t serve Coke, an iced tea.

“Would you like something to drink?” the waitress asked Randy.

“Yeah. Do you serve fresh vegetable juice?”

“Sure do. There’s a list on the back. We can put anything in it. Carrot, celery, spinach, chard...”

“I’ll have the carrot with ginger and a little celery.”

Angel made a face. “You actually drink that stuff?”

“My wife converted me. It’s really pretty good.”

“If you say so. You should get together with Detective Riley. He’s into health food too.”

“A lot of people are.” Randy pulled up his briefcase and studied some documents. “We need to talk about the charges being brought against you.”

Angel’s stomach knotted again. “I don’t understand why this is happening. I mean... I do, but it isn’t right. That kid represented a clear and present danger.”

“Yes, but there’s more at stake here. We’ve got an African-American child who, as it turns out, had no affiliation with the gang members who robbed the store. We’ve got the kid’s family ready to take you to court. No matter what the DA or the grand jury decides, we have that to contend with.”

“I feel like I’m being thrown to the wolves.”

“Well, I guess in a way, you are. So I think it’ll be best all around if we just put a lid on everything right now. We’ll plea bargain for a lesser charge, and with the civil suit we can settle out of court.”

“And where does that put me?” Angel picked up her water glass.

“You’ll be terminated from your position in the police department. You’ll get a sentence of maybe five years but won’t have to serve any time.”

“I’d be on probation for five years? No way.”

“I don’t like it either, but you’d be better off if we don’t end up in court. Let’s face it, you’re not exactly coming off as a saint here.”

“There hasn’t even been a grand jury hearing yet. They probably won’t let this go to trial.”

“The DA thinks otherwise. He’s certain that because of the high-profile aspect of the case, it will go to trial and you will lose.”

Their lunches came. Angel picked at her salad, and when she finally put a bite into her mouth, she wished she hadn’t. She set her fork down and sipped at her tea. “I don’t want to plea bargain or settle out of court.”

He grimaced. “I was afraid of that.”

“I can’t just walk away from my job. I didn’t do anything wrong.” She twisted the napkin on her lap.

Randy took a drink of his carrot juice. It left an orange smile on his lips like he’d been drinking orange Kool-Aid. “Fair enough. If you don’t settle, this is going to drag on for a long time, and I may not be able to represent you.”

“Because of the baby?”

“Partly. I’m resigning my position with the union and going into private practice so I can stay in Portland. Just traveling down here and back takes a five-hour chunk out of my day.”

“So you want me to accept the charges, hope for a plea bargain, and get it over with.”

“That’s about it. I think you should settle out of court on the civil suit as well.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“A trial of any kind won’t be good for you or for the department. There’s too much bad press. If you decide not to settle, I’ll have to turn your case over to one of the other lawyers.”

Angel watched him finish his juice. He wiped his mouth with the napkin, but the orange stain remained. Angel decided not to tell him. She understood his dilemma but didn’t like his advice.

“Who would represent me?”

“One of the other lawyers from the firm. Um—everyone is pretty busy at the moment. I’ll have to check. I think I can have someone down here tomorrow.”

“Forget it.” Angel picked up her bag and pulled out her wallet. “I’ll find my own lawyer.”

“As a union member, you’re entitled to representation, but it’s your prerogative.”

She pulled a ten out of her wallet and set it on the table. “I hope everything is okay with the ultrasound.”

“Angel, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, I understand. You guys are busy, so I’ll find someone who...”
Someone who gives a rip
. “Who’s local.” Angel smiled at him to show there were no hard feelings. “I need to get back to the hospital to see my dad. Can you find your way back to your car?”

“Sure. No problem. If you change your mind, give me a call.”

While she walked back to her car, she wondered at the wisdom of firing her lawyer. She’d have to use her own money to pay for one. Maybe Brandon would help—he’d told her he would the night of the shooting.

But things had changed radically since then.

O
n the way to the hospital, Angel called Janet’s office and made another appointment. She was surprised when the receptionist told her to come in that afternoon.

When she arrived back at the hospital, she found Brandon in the waiting room, talking to her brothers Peter and Paul, who had been at their resort in the Caribbean. She felt a rush of guilt when she realized she hadn’t called Brandon to tell him about her father.

Brandon flashed her a hurt look. “I came by to see your dad and see how you were doing.”

Angel found it hard to meet his eyes. “Thanks for coming.” Not certain what to say next, she turned to greet her brothers.

Peter set down his cup and captured her in an exuberant hug. Paul gave her shoulders a squeeze. Physically the twins were identical, but Angel never had trouble telling them apart. They were both tall, tan, and rich. Both were thirty-two years old, just under six feet, with thick dark hair and dark chocolate eyes. But Peter, the extrovert, acted as if he didn’t have a care in the world, while Paul worried too much—a little something he picked up from his mother. He was the introvert—analytical and detail oriented. Peter handled the public relations side of their business. Paul did all the accounting.

“What are you guys doing here? I thought you weren’t due back for another month.” She frowned. “Dad’s okay, isn’t he?”

“He’s okay—better in fact. We thought we should come home to give you some moral support.”

“Me?”

“Tim told us what’s been going on,” Paul said.

Angel stared at a dust bunny skittering across the polished floor. “And you two thought you’d come to my rescue?”

Peter handed her a cup of coffee. “Sounds like someone has to.”

“The truth is,” Paul said, “Mom told us if we didn’t haul ourselves out here, she’d come get us.”

“Yeah, like you were worried.” Angel grinned. Somehow being around Peter and Paul always raised her spirits. Being six years older and closest in age they were usually the ones who’d ended up baby-sitting her when she was little. “How’s the resort business going?” she asked.

The twins owned several resorts—in the Caribbean, France, and Mexico—all located on the most beautiful beaches in the world. Which accounted for their bronzed Mediterranean looks. Of course, being part Italian helped. They had recently built a new resort just a few miles north of Sunset Cove, their first venture in the Northwest. “How’s the Bay Village Resort doing?”

“Business is great,” Peter responded. “We’ve been having to turn people away, especially on the weekends.”

Paul nodded. “They like having another five-star resort in the area.”

Peter nudged her arm. “So when are you going to come see it?” he asked. “We’ll let you stay in one of our best suites.”

“That’s sweet, guys, but this isn’t a good time.”

“Seems to me it’s a perfect time.” Paul scrutinized her. “You can soak up some rays, swim, hot tub, play volleyball on the beach. Think about it, okay?”

“Okay.” Angel had to admit it sounded wonderful.

Brandon tossed his empty cup in the wastebasket, looking uncomfortable and unhappy at being left out.

She turned to him. “I’m glad you’re here. I need to talk to you about something.” Glancing back at her brothers, she said, “It’s private.”

They gave her a knowing look. “Maybe we should come along as chaperones,” Peter said with a grin.

“Not that kind of private.” She rolled her eyes at them and slipped her hand into the crook of Brandon’s arm.

“Want to go somewhere to eat?” Brandon asked. “I could use a sandwich.”

She didn’t mention seeing him at the restaurant. Apparently he’d left before finishing his meal. “I’ve eaten, but I can sit with you.”

They didn’t speak until they reached the elevator. “Why didn’t you tell me about your dad?” Brandon asked. “I shouldn’t have to read about something like that in the paper.”

“It all happened so fast. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t tell me about your apartment either. Angel, we may have had a disagreement, but I still care about you.”

“There was nothing you could’ve done about the apartment. It happened. It’s over.”

“So what did you want to talk to me about?” Brandon held the elevator door open as she stepped inside.

“It’s the legal mud hole I seem to have fallen into,” she said. “I’ve been told the DA is going to bring charges against me, and that there’s going to be a civil suit.”

“I heard.” Brandon looked at the elevator buttons, then at the door.

Angel found a table and waited for Brandon to go through the cafeteria line. When he got to the table, she picked up the conversation where they’d left off. “I fired the lawyer the union sent to represent me.”