Deeper Water (45 page)

THE THREE MEN LEFT THE COURTROOM. I STAYED BEHIND with Moses and watched the door close behind them. The courtroom became totally quiet. State v. Jones was over. I collapsed on the bench, put my head in my hands, and began to weep.

"What be bothering you, missy?"

The crushing pressure of the past weeks demanded an emotional release. My weeping turned to sobs. I felt the old man lightly place his hand on my back. Several minutes passed before I regained my composure. Thankfully, no one disturbed us. I lifted my head and sniffled loudly. Moses was sitting beside me. I cleared my throat.

"I've been sharing your burden for a few weeks. You've been carrying it for forty years. I don't know how you've done it."

Moses nodded. "That be right, missy. I be toting a very heavy load. Just like the big rock that dragged that poor little girl's body to the muddy bottom."

I took a tissue from my purse and blew my nose. I looked at the old man's weathered face. Pure love for him rose up in my heart. I touched him lightly on the arm.

"And it's time you stopped carrying that load, along with the other loads dragging you down all your life."

"What you mean?"

I turned sideways so I could look directly into his face. "Jesus gave his life so you wouldn't have to carry the burdens of the past, no matter where they came from. His burden is easy and light. Give what's left of your life to him."

The old man blinked his eyes. "You sound like my of auntie. I know that be true for young folk, but not for an old broke-down fellow like me. Too much done gone by for me to catch up." Moses looked across the room. "The faces in the water, they be talking to me. They tell me the end of my days."

"No," I answered with feeling. "Listen to Jesus. God wants you to look up, not down."

Moses slowly tilted back his head. After a few moments, there was a puzzled expression on his face. "That be a sweet sound," he said.

I didn't hear anything, but my heart understood. "That's what happens in a court of praise."

And in a gentle, natural way, the Lord used me to guide Moses Jones to a place of freedom and peace. Our tears, young and old, flowed together as he received the love of Jesus with childlike wonder. The spillover blessed me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. Mama would have shouted in victory. Our celebration, though quieter, was no less triumphant.

"Are you ready to go?" I asked after the last prayer ended.

"I never be more ready." Moses paused. "And you know what, missy?"

"What?"

"I think you be a lot more than a real lawyer."

WE LEFT THE COURTROOM and went in opposite directions. It was hot outside, but the heat had lost its power to oppress me. I walked at a leisurely pace. Wisdom adapts to things that cannot be changed, so I took my time returning to the office. The thanksgiving that had bubbled up in my heart while the Lord touched Moses returned. God was good. My mistakes and foolishness hadn't stymied his purposes.

I arrived back at the office ready to confess my sins to Zach. But he wasn't in his office, and the attractive secretary who worked for him informed me that he and Mr. Appleby had left for an emergency weekend meeting in Mobile with representatives of a Chinese shipping company. The Chinese company was going to increase its business on the East Coast and the Gulf of Mexico and wanted a single law firm to coordinate their activities in the United States.

I was a bit ashamed as I admitted to myself that I was relieved he was not in. I dreaded rehashing my embarrassing miscalculation of Mr. Carpenter's interest in Moses Jones and Lisa Prescott.

"Zach will be making trips to Shanghai if this deal goes through," the young woman said. "I told him I'd like to stow away, carry his suitcase, do anything to see that part of the world."

"What did he say to that?"

"Oh, you know how he is," she gushed. "He pulled on that cute ponytail and smiled."

"DID YOU GET THE CASE TAKEN CARE OF?" Julie asked lightly when I entered the library a few minutes later. "Joel is going to the cocktail reception at Mr. Carpenter's house tonight. I want you to meet him, but promise you won't say anything goofy. I told him you were super-religious-kind of like my cousins in New York-so he won't be totally shocked."

"Has he told you to shut up yet?" I asked.

"No, don't be silly. He's a great conversationalist, especially for a guy. He said more in thirty minutes than Vinny has all summer. Not that I'm trying to dump on Vinny, but you know what I mean. What happened in your case?"

"Judge Howell accepted the plea agreement. Moses is free."

"Awesome. I know that's a relief. What about the little girl? What did you find out?"

"That he didn't do anything criminal. He tried to help her."

"How sweet. Oh, I almost forgot." Julie pointed to a fresh folder on my side of the table. "Bob Kettleson's secretary left that for you. She says he wants an answer Monday morning."

I sat down and flipped open the folder. Fortunately, the problem was in an area of civil procedure familiar to me. I spent the next forty-five minutes documenting what I knew to be true. The memo could be typed first thing Monday morning.

Julie looked at her watch. "Listen, do you think we could sneak away early? I'd like some extra time to get ready for the party."

"Why don't you go ahead. I'd like to get a head start on this memo. I can just walk to Mrs. Fairmont's." I didn't want to get into a big discussion with Julie about it, but I really didn't plan on attending the party.

The door opened, and I looked up to see Vince entering the library. Julie greeted him first.

"Tell me everything that happened in court today. Tami made it sound so vanilla that I know she's holding out on me. She is absolutely the worst liar on the planet."

Vince looked at me.

"I didn't lie," I answered.

"But I didn't get the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," Julie responded.

"I don't have time now," Vince replied. "I broke away from a meeting for a couple of minutes. Maybe we can talk tonight at Mr. Carpenter's house."

"That won't work. I'll be with Joel at the party, and he's not within the attorney/client relationship."

"We'll get alone for a few minutes and make him jealous," Vince answered.

"Where did that come from?" Julie asked. "But it's a great idea."

Vince looked at me. "Would you like me to pick you up?"

"I'm not sure that I'm going to make-"

"You'll be there," Julie interrupted. "I'm sure there will be fancy flavors of water for the nondrinkers in the crowd. You might even have time to witness to Ned before he tosses down too many martinis. If anyone needs to repent, he's it."

"I wish you would go, Tami," Vince added. "I'd really like to talk to you about something."

"If I go, it's only a few blocks from Mrs. Fairmont's house. I can walk."

"Pick her up at seven thirty," Julie cut in. "Cinderella never walks to the ball; she always arrives in a coach."

Vince held out his hands, palms up.

"Okay," I replied with a smile. "I'll see you at seven thirty. Do you know where I'm staying?"

"Of course he does," Julie answered. "He's been stalking you since day one."

"I know the house," Vince said.

After Vince left, Julie turned to me. "What are you going to wear? This is a dressy occasion."

"Maybe the blue suit I wore the first day of work."

Julie rolled her eyes. "I'm not saying you need to buy a strapless cocktail dress, but please don't wear something frumpy. I'd offer to go shopping with you, but that would destroy our friendship."

After a moment of rare silence, Julie asked, "So, is Vince the front-runner?"

"I'm not sure if either he or Zach is a runner."

Shaking her head, Julie expelled an exaggerated sigh.

I WENT UPSTAIRS to see Gerry Patrick and knocked on the door frame.

"Come in," she said, looking up from her desk.

"I need to buy a dress for the party tonight at Mr. Carpenter's house. Any suggestions?"

"Waiting till the last minute, aren't you?"

"Yes ma'am."

The office manager tapped her pen against a legal pad, then began writing. She tore out the sheet and handed it to me.

"Use the firm car. You can just bring it back on Monday. Tell Marie I sent you. She knows how to make modest Jewish girls look classy; she can do the same for you."

An hour later, I left the shop with a beautiful pale green dress that, while not hugging my figure too closely, didn't deny the fact that I was a woman. Mama wasn't there to judge it. I was on my own.

CHRISTINE BARTLETT'S CAR was parked along the curb when I arrived at Mrs. Fairmont's house.

Flip didn't greet me in the foyer. With Mrs. Bartlett present, I suspected the little dog had been banished to the basement. I found the two women in the kitchen. Mrs. Bartlett had fixed a late-afternoon pot of coffee. Mrs. Fairmont was sipping from a cup as I entered.

"It's decaf," Mrs. Fairmont said. "Guaranteed not to give me a brain freeze."

"Mother and I have had a great afternoon," Mrs. Bartlett chimed in. "It's been like old times. We went to a cute place for a mid-afternoon snack but wanted home-brewed coffee. Did you have a nice day at work?"

I smiled. "That wouldn't be the word I'd use to sum it up, but all's well that ends well."

"That's somewhere in the Bible, isn't it?" Mrs. Bartlett asked.

"No ma'am. It's John Heywood. He lived in England a generation before Shakespeare."

"Did your mother teach you that at home?" Mrs. Bartlett asked, her eyes slightly buggy.

"Yes ma'am, and a lot more."

"Amazing."

I poured a drink of water and leaned against the counter. "Have either of you heard of the Lisa Prescott Foundation?" I asked.

"Of course," Mrs. Bartlett replied. "It made a big gift toward the new pediatric wing of the hospital a few years ago. I think it only supports projects that will benefit children. Mother, who runs that foundation?"

"Sam Braddock and Floyd Carpenter's son are involved," Mrs. Fairmont answered. "Which makes sense given the family connections. Was it mentioned in the newspaper articles you found in the box downstairs?"

"No ma'am, but I wish it had been."

Mrs. Bartlett stepped closer and lowered her voice. "What else have you found out about Lisa? Mother says you promised to fill her in on the details of a new investigation into her death as soon as possible."

"I'm not the person who can answer that question. My role in the case is over without anything to report."

"Drat," Mrs. Bartlett said. "It's not often I have a chance for a scoop guaranteed to be ahead of everyone else in the city. The whole mystery came up Monday at my bridge club, and I promised to get back to everyone."

"Tell them about the foundation," I suggested.

"That's old news, but I'll come up with something." Mrs. Bartlett placed her coffee cup on the kitchen counter. "Mother is going to eat dinner with Ken and me tomorrow evening. Will you join us?"

It was a nice gesture and made me feel less like the hired help. "Thank you, but this has been a long week, and I'm going to rest up this weekend. I'll stay here and take care of Flip. Is he downstairs now?"

"Yes," Mrs. Fairmont answered, giving her daughter a resentful look. "We'll set him free when Christine leaves."

A few minutes later as Mrs. Fairmont walked out on the front porch to bid her daughter good-bye, I liberated Flip. He rewarded me with a backward somersault that I rated ten out of a possible ten.

I DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING to Mrs. Fairmont about the party at supper, but when she saw me come upstairs wearing the dress, she immediately insisted I wear a necklace.

"And it will look better if you put your hair up," she added. "How long will it take you to do that?"

"Five minutes."

I returned with my hair caught up behind my head.

"No," she said after making me turn around several times. "I was wrong. Leave it down until your wedding."

I brushed out my hair. At seven thirty the doorbell chimed, and Flip raced into the foyer. I picked up the dog and opened the door.

"This is Flip," I said. "Can he join us?"

Vince stared at me.

"Come in and meet Mrs. Fairmont," I said after an awkward pause.

Mrs. Fairmont and Vince chatted about Charleston for a few minutes. Vince held the door open for me as I got into the car.

"We'll be there in a couple of minutes, so I have to talk fast," Vince said as he pulled away from the curb. "I totally messed up the Moses Jones case and led you astray. I meant well, but that's no excuse. Will you forgive me?"

"What?"

"You trusted me, and I let you down. It's as simple as that. When I saw that Mr. Carpenter was about to fire you, I should have jumped in and taken the blame, but I froze. It was a cowardly thing to do."

"But what did you do wrong?" I asked, mystified.

Vince glanced sideways at me. "You're nice to say that. And you look great too. If I hadn't fed you wrong ideas about the reason behind the memo from Mr. Carpenter to Mr. Braddock and sent you off to the microfilm records operating under a false assumption as to their motivations, none of this confusion would have gotten past first base. When you toss in the spin put on the conversation I overheard outside Mr. Braddock's office, there's no wonder you were confused."

Vince turned onto Congress Street. "Here we are," he said, turning sideways in the seat. "Before I let you out near the front door, I need to know you forgive me."

"Of course."

"Thanks. That takes a tremendous load off my mind."

"And park the car. We'll walk together."

He found an empty space around the corner from the large home. I'd bought new shoes at the dress shop, and the narrow heels made me wobble on the cobblestones. Vince put his hand on my elbow to steady me. I instinctively pulled away.

"I need to ask your forgiveness too," I said. "I dragged you into the Jones case in the first place. You were only trying to help me."

"I knew you would say that, but most of the blame flows my way."