Motion to Dismiss (24 page)

The elusive Xavier. A young man who might, or might not, have seen events unfolding on the deck the night Deirdre Nichols was killed. I cursed my luck at missing the call.

As I was punching in the number to return one of my other calls, I noticed the timing of the messages. Xavier's call had come in last.

Hanging up, I waited a moment, then picked up the phone again and hit
69. The wonders of modern technology. If his was truly the last call, I could reach him even without knowing the number.

After fifteen rings, I was ready to give up. On the sixteenth, a male voice with a heavy Chinese accent picked up.

"I'm trying to reach Xavier," I said.

"He give you this number?" the man asked.

I lied. "Yes."

"Must be mistake. This grocery pay phone."

"Which grocery?"

"Sam Wong Grocery. You want vegetable, fish, good duck. We the best."

"In Oakland?"

"Best anywhere."

I wrote the name on a slip of paper. "No, I meant, where are you located?"

"Eighth Street. Oakland."

"Mr. Wong, was there a young man in your store about half an hour ago? Someone who used the pay phone."

"People use all time. Public phone."

"I wouldn't bother you, Mr. Wong, but this is important. I need to talk to the teenage boy who called me from your phone about half an hour ago."

"Public phone. Many people use."

"But do you remember a teenager?"

"All time. Kids buy candy, soda, use phone."

I tried again. "Is it the same kids every time?"

"Some same, some different. It public phone. Sam Wong grocery very popular."

I thanked him and hung up. At least I knew that Xavier had gotten Hal's message. He'd tried to reach me once. I hoped he'd try again.

After returning the other calls, I phoned the detective who'd been assigned the investigation of our recent breakin. The police had come up with no clear prints and had no leads at all, but the detective assured me the case would remain open and active until there was some sort of resolution. It wasn't an encouraging response. I figured the Oakland police had to have hundreds of open and active cases.

Rather than calling Nina, I decided to drop by in person, stopping at Just Desserts on the way to pick up coffee and two slices of carrot cake. We hadn't talked since Monday, when I'd phoned to report on my visit with Grady. I could tell by the strain in her voice that her husband's arrest was taking its toll.

As I rounded the corner near Nina's, the first thing that caught my eye was the ambulance pulling away from the Barretts' driveway, lights flashing.

Chapter 32*


"You just missed her," Simon said hurriedly. "She's on the way to the hospital."


I swallowed hard. "What's wrong?"


"She was having labor pains."


"But she still has three months to go." A cold foreboding clutched my chest. Was she going to lose the baby on top of everything else?


Elsa joined us in the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron. "We are praying. The doctor says she needs to go to the hospital for stronger medicine. She stay there three, four days. Maybe longer."


"But the ambulance ... I thought..." Slowly my pulse was returning to normal. "There's hope still?"


Elsa nodded. "The doctor say she has to lie down. All the time lie down. No walk, no sit, only lie down."


"That's why I couldn't drive her," Simon added. "The doctor wanted her to stay flat on her back."


"Did anyone go with her?"


"She said it wasn't necessary," Simon explained, though I could tell from his tone he didn't agree.


And neither did I.


When I got to the hospital, the woman at the front desk told me that Nina was still in the process of being admitted. I wasn't sure what, exactly, that meant, except that her room number wasn't posted. I headed for Emergency, where I fared no better. It was more than an hour before the powers that be let me see her.


Finally, I took an elevator to the fourth floor and knocked on the open door. Nina had managed to land a private room, but it was stark and stuffy. The air was heavy with a medicinal smell layered upon the lingering odor of cafeteria food.


"Hi," I said, entering.


Nina lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. She was wrapped in a faded blue floral-print hospital gown that made her pale skin seem almost translucent. An IV needle was taped to one arm.


She turned to greet me, her face wet with silent tears. Then a wan smile touched the corners of her mouth. "This is really shitty."


"Yeah, it is." I pulled the plastic chair from the foot of the bed around to the side. "What does the doctor say?"


"Not much. He's got me on some heavy-duty medicine to stop the contractions. And I have to stay flat. I can't even get up to pee."


"Fun."


"He's not even sure it will work." Nina gave me a look, something crumpled and sad. "I feel like I'm holding on by my fingernails, Kali. Like I'm slipping a little each day. I don't think I can make it."


"Yes, you can." I squeezed her free hand. "Each week the baby's chances get better. Each day, in fact. It's going to work out."


"Since when have you become such a Pollyanna?"


It was a tenuous conversion, born of worry and uncertainty. And I was sure Nina recognized it.


"I know it's got to be awful to lie there," I told her. "With nothing to do but wait. But you've got to remember that you're getting closer to the end all the time." And then I bit my tongue, remembering that death was another end she might be facing.


"It's easy for you to talk. You're not the one going through this." I could detect a hint of anger in her voice.


"You're right, I'm not."


"So cut the cheerfulness, okay?"


"I'm trying to help, Nina. I don't always know what's right. What to say to show support."


"Maybe I don't want support," she snapped. "Maybe I want someone to be sad with. I feel like everyone is pulling back. Yeah, they're sorry, but they're also glad it's not them. They mumble words of sympathy, then go on with their own lives."


"Oh, Nina." I leaned across the bed and hugged her. "I
am
sad. And I feel so helpless."


She hugged me back, then brushed a loose strand of hair from her face, the anger defused. "It's not just the baby, you know. It's what comes after. How am I going to give him the love and attention he needs when I'm struggling with the effects of chemotherapy?"


"Chemo is only twelve weeks." The voice of optimism again, but I couldn't help it.


She was silent a moment. "And what if I don't make it?" Her voice was soft and faint, as though she'd had to squeeze the words from somewhere deep inside her. "What if the treatment doesn't kill the cancer?"


Even Pollyanna didn't have an answer to that one. I shook my head and gripped Nina's hand harder. The nurse bustled in just then and shooed me out. I left reluctantly.


Wandering down to the cafeteria, I bought a frozen yogurt and ate it without tasting a bite. When half an hour had elapsed, I went back to check on Nina. She was still flat on her back, but I could tell that her deep blue mood had passed, at least for the moment.


"You didn't have to hang around," she said with a valiant attempt at a smile.


"I wanted to make sure you were okay."


"I am. Really. I didn't mean to get mad at you. I just gave in to a moment of panic."


I pulled up a chair and sat where she could see me without straining. "I wish I could do something to help."


"You are. You're here, for one thing. And you're handling Grady's defense. I'm so glad you're doing it, Kali. I'd worry if it were anyone else."


I knew she was plenty worried as it was. "How about Emily? Is she going to be okay while you're in the hospital?"


Nina nodded. "Simon and Elsa will look after her. She's comfortable with them. They're not a lot of fun though. If you have time, maybe you could stop by and see her."


"Sure. I'd love to. She's a neat kid."


Nina was silent a moment, watching the colorless solution drip into her arm through the IV. "Is the preliminary hearing still set for next week?"


"Wednesday." A week from today.


"How's it look?"


"Fine." I tossed off the word too quickly.


Nina sighed. "That bad, huh?"


I looked her in the eyes. "Actually, it's neither good nor bad. But Grady wants a full court press at the hearing. He'd like the charges dropped, and that's not going to happen."


"You haven't stumbled onto any lucky breaks, I take it."


"None that have panned out." I told her about Eric Simpson's vendetta against the Carsons, and about Xavier.


"You ought to be able to get some mileage out of the fact that the police don't seem to have looked into either."


I nodded. "But it will go further at trial than at the hearing. There's another angle they never looked at as well."


"What's that?"


"Did Deirdre Nichols ever talk to you about the guy she was dating, Tony Rodale?" In the depths of my brain I felt a niggle of worry when I remembered Hal's story about seeing Marc's car at Tony's. I tried to ignore it.


"I didn't know Deirdre very well," Nina said. "I saw more of her sister, Sheila. Adrianna and Emily were on the same soccer team last fall, and it was Sheila who came to most of the games."


"I don't suppose Sheila ever mentioned anyone her sister was involved with?"


Nina shook her head. "For the most part, the only thing we talked about was the kids. It's too bad Sheila never had children of her own. She's the sort who would make motherhood her life's work."


"Was she ever married?"


Nina's expression darkened. "She was engaged once. Or almost engaged. She never told me the details, but I got the impression she never really got over him. He died a couple of years ago and she sometimes acts like she's his widow."


I debated the wisdom of telling Nina about my recent conversation with Sheila, and decided against it. Although I had trouble believing Grady had been foolish enough to leave a threatening message on Deirdre's answering machine, I hadn't totally discounted the notion.


"She came to see me a couple of days ago," Nina said after a moment.


"Who did?"


"Sheila. She wanted me to persuade Grady to accept some sort of plea bargain. In the interest of the kids."


So much for protecting Nina. "She tried to get me to do the same thing too," I told her.


Nina gave me a long look. "You weren't going to tell me, were you?" She spoke fast and breathlessly. "You were worried it might upset me."


"You've got a lot -- "


"Kali, it's hard enough being physically out of commission. Don't treat me like my mind is gone too."


"You know it's not that."


"I know nothing of the sort. You've been trying to shield me since the moment Deirdre first cried rape." Her voice spiraled. She pulled her hand from mine. "I
know
only what you choose to tell me, which isn't a whole hell of a lot."


She was right, of course. And I felt torn. How did you draw the line between brutal honesty and reassuring empathy where friendship was concerned?


"You've got enough to contend with right now," I told her.


"That doesn't mean I've had a lapse of judgment. My brain is one of the few parts of my body that's working just fine."


"I know that, Nina."


"Funny, you don't act like it." Anger flickered in her words.


"You're under a lot of stress. I only -- "


She cut me off. "What gives you the right to decide what I can handle and what I can't?"


We were both silent. Nina closed her eyes, took several deep breaths. "Don't shut me out, Kali."


"If that's really what you want."


"I do." She seemed to hesitate, then turned her gaze in my direction. "From now on anything we say is privileged communication. Okay? Conversation between counsel. We're partners on this."


I gave her a questioning look. "Okay."


Another deep breath. "I think Sheila is wrong about the tape. For one thing, Grady wouldn't have made such a theatrical threat. It's not his style."


I nodded.


"But I'm sure he was up to something. I can pick up on stuff like that."


"What do you mean?"


"I don't know exactly. But there were a couple of secretive phone calls in the days before Deirdre was killed. Grady was acting jumpy as well. If there's any truth at all to what Sheila says and it comes out at trial, you'll be broadsided. Juries love stuff like that."


My stomach churned. "Are you suggesting we go along with what Sheila is asking? You want Grady to plead guilty to a lesser charge?"


"I don't know what I want, except that I want you to be careful, Kali. Grady's a good man, and I love him with all my heart. But he's not perfect."