For the Defense (8 page)

“Too busy fighting over who’s going to be leader to get the job done,” Jack said, a smile almost of amusement drawing back his lips.

Diana was intrigued. “You sound like you’ve had first-hand experience with the type.”

“I’m an expert. Enormous egos are synonymous with actors.”

“That hold true for you as well?” She’d asked the ques
tion lightly. Too late she realized that it could be interpreted as a put-down.

But when Jack turned to her and smiled, she stopped worrying. He was not a man who easily took offense. Quite the contrary. Challenges to his abilities and self-image seemed to amuse him. Not many men were that secure in themselves.

“My overblown ego got summarily deflated the day
Seattle
’s producer decided not to renew my contract.”

“Dumb move,” she said. “Mel tells me that without you the show died a quick death.”

“Probably because the writers didn’t kill me off with enough gore. After all, I was voted the daytime TV villain viewers most wanted to see boiled in oil.”

Jack had an absolutely irresistible smile when nothing but good humor was behind it.

“Did you enjoy playing a villain?” she asked, suddenly very curious to know.

“The part was challenging and certainly paid very well.”

But he
didn’t
enjoy it. Interesting. “Why no leading man parts after that?”

“My agent told me I was too strongly tied to a villainous image. Audiences would have had difficulty accepting the switch.”

She remembered then what he’d said to Connie about wanting to rescue a lady in distress. She was quite certain that he’d meant what he’d said.

“Are you really interested in my acting career, Diana? Or do these questions have something to do with Connie’s case?”

She had been thinking about business, but mostly she had been thinking about him. Diana became aware of how close she was to Jack. Slowly, casually, she moved back in her chair.

“I was wondering if we should ask the jurors what TV or movie role they’d choose to play and why,” she said.

“To see whether they’d cast themselves as heroes or villains,” he said, once again understanding without explanation.

“A fun question for people to think about, and one that could reveal some important self-perception clues,” Diana said. “I don’t think Staker would object. He’s bound to see the benefit. But Judge Gimbrere might consider the question too frivolous.”

“Want to put it in and find out?” Jack asked.

“Why not,” she decided. “Even if the question gets thrown out, at least we will have tried.”

“Speaking of fun questions, want to ask them how they’d change their life if they won a million-dollar lottery?” he asked as he added the other information to the growing questionnaire.

She laughed at the unexpected suggestion. “Their answers could be as revealing, if not more so, than the regular, boring questions prospective jurors are given. Sure, go ahead and put it in.”

He suggested a few more unusual questions that she agreed would be great additions before Harry interrupted them to say that their food had arrived. When he brought in the trays, they sat on the couch to eat.

Lunch was baked chicken breast with baby root vegetables and a blend of melted cheeses rolled in a paper-thin pastry. Dessert was slices of fresh strawberries, melon and grapes. The beverage was a tall iced tea.

When Diana was finished, she sunk back against the soft cushions of the couch. “You put hot-dog man to shame.”

Jack took a gulp of his iced tea and set the glass on the coffee table, his smile full of self-satisfaction. “You should try me for dinner sometime.”

When they maintained eye contact several beats too
long, Diana knew she wasn’t misreading the fast-spreading warmth within her.

She stood and went to the window to stare out at the heavy clouds. Cars whooshed by on the streets below. But she wasn’t thinking about either the weather or the traffic.

Jack wasn’t flirting with her. The heat in his gaze went way beyond the playful stage. She was female enough to be both flattered and fascinated by his interest, but smart enough not to act on either.

Their working relationship could be ruined if she allowed a personal element to intrude. Too much was at stake to chance it.

His face was reflected in the window. He was still watching her.

“So this is your usual lunch,” she said as though food had been the only thing on her mind.

“On the Tuesdays that I spend in the office. I’ve become rather set in my tastes and ways. Comes from being a confirmed bachelor.”

A confirmed bachelor.
He’d just given her his ground rules in case she decided to pursue this attraction. She appreciated the honesty. Better to know up front that he wasn’t available for anything but a fling.

She liked Jack, and she was attracted to him. But casual dating had never been her style. Nor did she want Mel growing up thinking that physical love was inconsequential and relationships between men and women transient.

Human relationships were the most fulfilling part of life—when one selected the right humans.

“Is there anything else you want, Diana?”

Despite the possible double entendre in his words, she heard only a courteous inquiry in his tone. But he hadn’t taken his eyes off her.

“I don’t want anything else, thanks,” she said to his
reflection in the window. It was the right answer to whatever question he’d been asking.

A knock came on the door. Jack called for whoever it was to come in. Diana turned to see Richard stepping inside. She smiled and he nodded in response.

Richard’s eyes swept over the empty dishes on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Glad I caught you on your lunch break.”

“If you need to talk with Jack I can—” she began.

“I came to see you,” Richard interrupted. “I understand that you and Mel are looking for a place to lease.”

Diana blinked in surprise. “Yes.”

Richard approached, handing her a paper circular. “This house is for sale, but the owner would probably accept a lease option. If you want to check it out, the agent’s name and number are at the bottom.”

Diana scanned the information on the property. Three bedroom, two-bath, cedar shingles, hardwood floors and only a few miles down the road from her mother’s home. This
did
sound good. When she lifted her head, Richard was already on his way out the door.

“Thank you,” she called after him.

He paused to turn back to her. “If the house ends up meeting your needs, you’re welcome. If you’re disappointed, blame Jack. He’s the one who insisted I tell you about it.”

Richard gave Jack a smile that was a bit too brilliant before closing the door.

Diana looked at Jack, not quite sure how she felt about that revelation. “Why did you—”

“I don’t like personal problems interfering with the work I’m trying to do,” he said, cutting her off as he stood. “Want to see the place now?”

She was eager to see the house, but it was already after two. “We haven’t finished the questionnaire.”

“Call the real estate agent and ask her to meet us there,” Jack suggested, pointing toward the phone. “I’ll drive you over so we can talk about what other questions to ask the jurors on the way. We’ll come back here afterward and finish up.”

He rolled down his shirt sleeves and slipped on his coat as though the decision had already been made.

“If you wait too long, someone else might snatch up the place,” he warned.

She shot him a pointed look as she held up the circular. “You don’t happen to own this house by any chance?”

He smiled as he grabbed her bag and slung the strap over her shoulder. “If you still have to ask that question
after
seeing the house, I’ll slit my throat.”

So Jack would rather slit his throat than be considered the owner of the house? Diana was more eager than ever to see it now.

T
HE ADDRESS WAS
142 Baby Lane. That alone had been enough reason for Richard’s ex-wife to coerce him into buying the two-story dollhouse. Barely fourteen hundred square feet, the dilapidated old place had required a new heat pump, plumbing, floors and roof. It would have cost Richard a lot less to demolish the original structure and build a new one in its place.

But that wasn’t what Richard’s wife had wanted.

Jack had been to the house once after the repairs had been completed and Richard’s wife had finished decorating. That was all he could handle.

Teddy-bear wallpaper covered the kitchen. The small upstairs bedrooms and bath had fawns playing with pink bunnies on the ceiling as well as the walls. The living room was filled with cutesy ducks bouncing beneath umbrellas and skipping over rain puddles.

But the bedroom and bath downstairs had gotten the
worst of it. Wallpaper filled with babies too blatantly sweet even for Gerber ads peeked out of pink and blue blankets.

Jack couldn’t make himself follow Diana and the real estate agent into that so-called master suite.

Feeling the need for some fresh air, he headed out the back door, down the porch stairs and walked to the edge of the property, all the while wondering at the insane things a man in love would do.

Thank God he’d been spared.

The half acre that went with the house was overgrown with weeds. Above their waist high tops, Jack gazed out at a small lake. The breeze was stirring the water and someone in a sailboat was braving the waves. Far as Jack was concerned, the view was the only good thing about the place.

A few moments later Diana came to stand next to him. The muted afternoon light fell softly across her cheek. A delicious scent that had been tantalizing him all morning wafted off her hair. The urge to move in closer, bury his face in the glistening black strands and inhale deeply was strong.

That was a bad sign. Not the first of the day, either.

They’d started back in his office when he realized she’d become aware of his attraction for her. Not that he thought she’d do anything about the attraction. But because he’d suddenly and fervently hoped she would.

Jack took a penknife from his pocket and held it out as he asked, “What’s the verdict, counselor?”

“You can put the knife away,” she said, the amusement at his dramatics lighting her face from within. “Your throat is safe. This is not a house that you would own.”

He put the knife back, turning away from her to stare out at the water. “You going to lease the place?”

“Jury’s still out,” she said. “The real estate agent is
calling the owner to see if the items that concern me can be negotiated.”

Jack wanted to know what her concerns were. He wanted to know a lot of things. He didn’t ask any of them.

“I hope they can be worked out,” she said. “This is a great spot. The house would fit us quite well. Whatever happens, I want to thank you for talking to Richard.”

Jack allowed himself only a noncommittal shrug in response. He’d already told her that he’d done what he had for purely selfish reasons. He thought he had. Now he wasn’t sure. The gratitude in her voice made him feel too good.

“I didn’t know Richard had kids,” she said, almost casually.

“He doesn’t.”

Her voice was filled with understanding. “He and his wife divorced before they came to live here.”

Jack knew Diana was smart. She wasn’t disappointing him.

“If you really want to lease this place, I wouldn’t let on that you know he owns it,” Jack said. “He has this thing about mixing work with anything that could be construed as the least bit personal.”

“We all have that thing.”

The serious note in her voice had him glancing at her. She was looking straight ahead, a small frown drawing her eyebrows together. So, his attraction for her was making her uneasy. He should have known.

The real estate agent pushed open the door to the house and stepped outside. “Diana, good news,” she said as she approached. “The owner has no problem with your requests. Shall we go back to my office and sign the contract?”

“Sounds good,” Diana said. “Mind dropping me at my car afterward?”

“No problem at all,” the real estate agent assured.

They fell into step together as they headed toward the agent’s vehicle.

“What about finishing the questionnaire?” Jack called out to Diana’s retreating back.

She stopped and looked over her shoulder. “E-mail it to me. I can complete the rest when I return to my office this afternoon or work tonight if necessary. Thanks to you, I no longer have to go apartment hunting.”

Sending him a brief smile, she resumed her course toward the agent’s car.

As Jack watched them drive away, he decided e-mailing that questionnaire to her had been a very good suggestion. He’d already gotten a little too close to her today. For her comfort and for his.

But tomorrow, he promised himself, all that would come to an end. He might not be able to control being attracted to Diana. But he sure as hell could stop showing it to her. After all, he was a very good actor.

“I
HAVE A VIEW
of the lake from my room,” Mel announced happily as she hopped down the stairs. “What’s with the decorations? Did a bunch of kids live here?”

“The real estate agent told me the place has been vacant for a while,” Diana said, not comfortable telling Mel that Richard owned the place. The wallpaper looked new, its content chock-full of a sad, focused desperation. Discussing the source of that desperation with Mel seemed like an invasion of Richard’s privacy.

“Please tell me I don’t have to wake up to Bambi and Thumper bouncing around on my walls.”

“Not to worry,” Diana said. “We’re going to paint over the wallpaper.”

“Wouldn’t removing it be simpler?”

“Spoken like a true innocent.”

“That much work, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Diana assured her. “And if you’re lucky, you never will. Painting has to commence soon. The place will need a thorough airing before we move in. Want to shop for appliances on Saturday after your play rehearsal?”

“I don’t have to rehearse falling down and looking dead.”

Diana wished she knew how to assuage Mel’s continued disappointment over the part she’d drawn. All her daughter’s initial joy over doing the play had fled.

“Fixing up this new place of ours will be fun. I’m going to paint my room a light yellow.”

“I’ll have to ask the owner first,” Diana said. “I only got approval for off-white.”

“So we have to get the owner’s permission anytime we want something different,” Mel said with a sigh. “I wish we had a place that was ours.”

There was nothing heavier than the weight of having let down a child.

“When Connie’s trial is over, I’ll check into mortgages,” Diana said, as she stepped into the small utility room off the kitchen and began measuring the area where the washer and dryer would go. “Maybe we can turn this lease into a buy.”

“Is that a strong maybe or a weak maybe?”

“That’s an ‘I’m going to do my best’ maybe. But between now and then, things are really busy, especially the next couple of weeks what with the wedding, moving in and getting settled. Grandma is going to have to pick you up from school tomorrow, by the way. I’ll be stuck in a meeting.”

“Are you going to bring a date to Grandma’s wedding?”

“A date?” Diana asked, surprised at the non sequitur.

“Arnie asked me when he called Grandma yesterday to say he was coming. I think he wants to sit next to you.”

Not even if Arnie were gagged and chained to the chair.

“Dating is so dumb,” Mel said with disgust. “I’m not doing it.”

I wish,
Diana thought. “When your hormones kick in, you could change your mind.”

Mel looked up at her mom with a curious expression. “What do they feel like? All those hormones and stuff?”

“Exciting, confusing,” Diana said. “Thinking about other things suddenly becomes very difficult. Being at
tracted to that special member of the opposite sex is one of those things you have to experience to understand.”

“Do you understand why you fell for Dad and married him?”

“All I can tell you is that at the time I was led by love, not logic.”

“So romantic love is like losing your mind?”

Diana laughed as she stretched her tape measure over the counter and took a reading. “Sounds like a pretty accurate definition to me.”

“You asked Dad to come to the wedding, didn’t you?”

Diana nodded. “He’d already made other plans.”

“He’s good at making other plans.”

Diana hated hearing the disappointment in her daughter’s voice. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. Things are better when he’s not here. I don’t have to pretend to love him, and he doesn’t have to pretend to love me.”

“He does love you,” Diana said as she looked over at her daughter.

“I don’t like the way he loves me.”

Diana wasn’t thrilled with it, either. And she wasn’t going to insult Mel’s intelligence by pretending otherwise. Nor would she spout meaningless platitudes that things were going to get better.

“This place has a first-rate security system,” Mel said. “I know what to do in an emergency. Being with Grandma was great because she loves me. But I don’t want someone hired to care for me who doesn’t really care.”

“The person who will be here does care. Very much.”

Mel looked puzzled. “You’ve found someone?”

Diana steeled herself. “Your great-aunt Shirley is coming to live with us.”

Mel’s eyes widened with incredulity. “What? Mom, you can’t be serious.”

“We need her, Mel. And she needs us. The manager at her apartment complex isn’t going to renew her lease.”

“Because she’s a kook.”

“Because she took in a stray cat that no one else wanted and there’s a strict no pet rule,” Diana corrected. “Other than her somewhat unconventional…quirk, Shirley’s perfectly rational. And she loves you. Very much.”

“But, Mom, she has no idea what I’m talking about half the time, and I don’t care what she’s talking about all the time. And she looks so weird, and she keeps calling me by that stupid name. And—”

“Mel, you are brilliant, and I love you dearly, so I’m going to let you in on a little secret. The key to feeling really good about who you are is helping others to feel really good about who they are.”

“You mean Shirley.”

“She doesn’t deserve to be ridiculed or belittled. She deserves understanding and acceptance and love. We all do.”

Mel’s sigh was full of youthful ennui. “I guess she’s better than some tattooed teenager with nothing but boys on her so-called brain.”

Her daughter’s acceptance of the situation was based solely on its benefit to her. Diana reminded herself to be patient. Emotionally, Mel was still only nine.

“I’m finished measuring,” Diana said. “You see everything you wanted to?”

Mel nodded. “The place is great, Mom. I could even walk to Grandma’s if I had to. You never said how you heard about it.”

“Jack Knight put me in contact with the owner.”

“That was nice of him,” Mel said as they walked toward the door.

Very nice. The real estate agent told Diana that Richard had contacted the office that morning to say he’d go with
a lease option for the right family. Diana felt certain that had been Jack’s doing.

He’d said he’d approached Richard because he didn’t want her personal problems interfering with getting their work accomplished. She believed him. His commitment to their case was one of the things she appreciated most about him.

But he’d been embarrassed when she thanked him. And he hadn’t been quick enough to hide his discomfort over that embarrassment.

Seeing the cool, confident Jack lose his considerable aplomb—even for a second—had been rather unexpected. He’d treated her to quite a few unexpected moments in the past couple of days.

The man got more complicated by the moment. And so did her reaction to him.

“I
ALMOST DIDN’T RECOGNIZE YOU
without a pack of females draped around your shoulders,” Jack said as he slipped onto the barstool next to Jared.

His twin looked over at him, smiling. “I’m trying to cut down to two packs a day.”

“Old age will do that to you,” Jack said, grinning.

The fact that Jared had been born forty minutes before Jack was an old joke between them.

“Truth is, I only got here a couple of minutes ago myself,” Jared said.

“Everything okay?” Jack asked as he signaled the bartender to bring him a beer.

“I was doing some investigative work off the clock. Got a tip about some possible evidence in an unsolved hit-and-run case that I wanted to check out.”

Jack nodded his understanding of what his brother was telling him. He glanced casually into the mirror behind the
bar, which would reflect the images of anyone who might come within hearing range.

“Did the tip prove to be a good one?” he asked nonchalantly.

“The evidence techs seemed pleased to find the scene caked in enough layers of dust to imply it had been basically undisturbed. They collected a drop cloth and some miscellaneous debris.”

“Where did they take them?”

“The items were messengered to the lab for testing, along with other forensic evidence collected on the hit-and-run and a chain and locket belonging to a prisoner awaiting trial,” Jared said.

“Local lab?”

“D.C. A friend at the FBI said he’d see everything got priority status.”

Jack nodded, understanding Jared wasn’t taking any chances that the local lab might leak the information to the sheriff or Staker. He was being as careful as Jack knew he would be.

The bartender delivered Jack’s beer. His brother held his hand over his glass. Jack knew Jared would nurse his drink for the rest of the night.

When Jack and Jared were in their twenties, the story had been quite different. Then Jared prided himself on drinking most guys under the table, including Jack. But working at the FBI had sobered Jared in a lot of ways.

Something had happened to him that he didn’t talk about—not even with Jack. All Jack knew was that his twin had returned to Silver Valley with a deep scar on his cheek and a serious outlook on life.

“About that hit-and-run,” Jared said as he rubbed his fingers on the side of his glass.

“What about it?” Jack asked, instantly alerted by his brother’s tone.

“According to the Department of Licensing, the guy who inhabited the premises where the possible evidence was collected didn’t own any old cars.”

Which meant Bruce was driving someone else’s car when he struck Amy.

“Maybe the driver borrowed the car from a family member,” Jack suggested.

“Can’t find anyone in the family who had an old car registered at that time or since,” Jared said.

“The witness to the hit-and-run was pretty shaken up,” Jack said. “She also didn’t know much about cars. What she thought was old might have been a classic sports car or a foreign car.”

“Even so, I doubt she could have confused an old car with the latest Land Rover or Cadillac. The father was the Land Rover fan. The mother and brother only drive Cadillacs.”

Then Bruce had borrowed the car, probably from a friend. Those who’d attended Bruce’s funeral would be Jack’s best leads.

The vibration of Jack’s cell phone interrupted his thoughts. He answered and found the caller was Karen, a beautiful blonde he’d worked with on
Seattle.
Karen had been the one who had called the office the other day to invite him to a studio party. The party was currently in full swing, and she was checking to see if he might change his mind and join her after all.

Jack thanked her for the invitation, but said he’d made other plans.

When Jack flipped the cell closed, he found a pretty if somewhat vacuous beautician had come over to say hello to Jared. She had an attractive friend with her who was giving him the eye. Jack paid for his drink and left his brother to fend off both females. Or not.

For the next hour, Jack drove around with no destination
in mind. He liked traveling the mostly deserted roads of the valley at night, windows open, the fresh air in his face. Driving freed his mind from distractions, gave him time to think.

Investigating the prospective jurors would have to wait until Diana had the returned questionnaires. Now he needed to focus on Bruce.

Reconstructing his whereabouts on the day of Amy’s death would be Jack’s first job. The best starting point would be the police report on the hit-and-run, which would pinpoint time and place. Tomorrow, he’d ask Diana for a copy.

He looked up to find himself at a stoplight a block away from the offices of Kozen and Kozen. Not questioning what unconscious impulse had led him here, he made a turn and drove down the block. The building was dark except for a single light shining through a window on the far end. Even before he caught a glimpse of her car in the back lot, he knew that light meant Diana was there, finishing the questionnaire.

Being with her today had been good. She had a quick, logical mind and a refreshing willingness to accept suggestions. And every time he heard her laughter, he felt the vibrations all the way to his nerve endings. He wished he were in there with her now completing what they had begun.

Jack chuckled at the absurdity of his thoughts. He’d turned down a night of sex with an available, uncomplicated blonde and was now fantasizing about spending it working with a very unavailable, complicated brunette.

Damn, maybe he was getting old. He gunned the engine of the Porsche and headed for home.

G
EORGE
S
TAKER EXUDED
an air of confidence that some women found attractive. But his icy indifference to the
feelings of others had long ago earned him a top spot on Diana’s ugliest human list.

He greeted her entry into his office with an irritated frown. “Give me your questions, Mason, and let’s get this over with.”

“Where are yours?” she asked.

“If you haven’t covered the bases, I’ll let you know. Come on. I don’t have all day.”

Diana handed over a copy of the questionnaire and took the chair in front of Staker’s desk. The chief prosecutor was his typical, insufferable self today. But his lack of questions told her he was not prepared for their meeting. That wasn’t like him.

Was he too caught up in this campaign for judgeship to attend to the case? Probably. He no doubt thought this trial was going to be such an easy win he didn’t have to give the details his undivided attention.

Diana rather hoped he kept on thinking that.

Staker plucked at his thin mustache as he scanned through the questionnaire. The mustache plucking was something she’d seen him do in court and was an indication that he liked what he was seeing. Yet when he finished reading the questions, he immediately began with put-downs and petty complaints. He challenged her on the phrasing of nearly every sentence as though she were his bumbling secretary screwing up an assignment instead of a fellow officer of the court.

Diana kept her temper only through an extreme effort of will. She kept reminding herself that if she didn’t get Staker to sign off on the questionnaire, Judge Gimbrere would very likely reject it. The jurors would be handed a short, meaningless form on the day they appeared for
voir dire.