Privileged Witness (7 page)

''Ms. Bates?''

Josie stopped. She was on her guard. She searched the perimeter of the lot and saw a dumpster, two cars, a wall, surveillance cameras posted on the corners the building, and a shadow that moved and morphed into a man. She planted her feet wide and firm; let her leather saddlebag purse slip off her shoulder and into her hand. With a flick of her wrist, she wrapped the straps around her fist as the man came into the light in bits and pieces.

Young. Medium height. Thick at the waist. A shock of corn silk hair fell over a wide brow and small oval glasses shot back the dim light from the outdoor floods. His cheeks were round and red, his lips a little fleshy. When he was close enough Josie could make out the creases on his brow, a trilogy of furrows between his eyes. Nervously he eyed the purse-turned-weapon. He stopped just out of striking distance.

''It's okay. I'm Tim Douglas, Matthew McCreary's campaign manager. We spoke on the phone. I wanted to fill you in before you. . .''

Josie drew in a deep breath and blew it out through her pursed lips. Josie held up her free hand and unfurled the purse straps from the other.

''It's not smart to sneak up on people in a dark parking lot, Mr. Douglas,'' she said. ''I'll find out what I need to know when I get inside.''

Filled in. Get their stories straight. How insulting. She had no use for his nonsense. Josie started to leave but Tim Douglas was like a reflection, mirroring her movement. She took another step and when he dared to do it again she growled:

''Get out of my way. I'll talk to Matthew.''

Josie skirted around him, her long strides carrying her away quickly but not fast enough to miss Tim Douglas's warning.

''I want you to know he isn't in there. You should know he isn't here.'' Josie paused. He had her attention. Tim Douglas got as close as he thought prudent, close enough to speak as if they were conspirators and that made Josie feel dirty. ''We didn't think it would be wise. We wanted to avoid the press if at all possible until we could work out a strategy. We understand this can't be kept completely quiet, but I've been assured that you will know exactly what needs to be done to minimize the impact of this arrest.''

Josie's blue eyes bore into Tim Douglas's unimpressive ones. To his credit, he didn't look away. He was a good soldier, waiting to report back to headquarters that those assurances were reliable. What a fool. She showed him her back.

''Go away, Mr. Douglas,'' Josie said just before she slammed through the front door of the Long Beach police department and walked up to a wary desk officer. She put both hands on the counter.

''You're holding Grace McCreary on a murder charge. I want to see her now.''

CHAPTER 9

''Don't bother going back in, detective.''

Josie caught Babcock just as he was about to open the door to the interview room three.

''Ms. Bates.'' Calm and composed, he didn't seem the least surprised to see her.

''A head's up would have been nice this morning,'' Josie snapped, as peeved at him for holding back as she was with herself for failing in her charge.

''This morning you were representing the Committee to Elect Matthew McCreary,'' he explained.

''And now I'm representing Grace McCreary,'' Josie announced knowing it would be an exercise in futility to convince him that splitting hairs wasn't going to get him anywhere.

''She didn't tell me.''

''I'm telling you,'' she answered back. ''You're done.''

Babcock opened the door for her. Josie went into the room where Grace McCreary sat. She was still dressed in her beautiful suit. The ring on her left finger was twirling like a top just as it had at noon. Unlike noon, Grace's confidence was shaken and the face she turned toward Josie was as hopeful for a reprieve as a frightened virgin on her wedding night. Grace's eyes tracked Josie and then ricocheted back to the door. Josie never figured out that it was Matthew Grace expected. Jose was too busy checking out the lay of the land: plain walls, no two way mirror, a metal table, four chairs, a notepad with nothing on it. Her eyes followed the line of the ceiling.

Wired.

''If you're recording, Babcock, stop it.'' Josie threw that out for consideration then planted herself in front of Grace. ''Were you advised of your rights?''

Grace nodded.

''You're sure?'' Josie pulled out a chair. Its metal legs grated on the linoleum. She sat across from Grace. The legs grated again when she pulled up close once more.

''Yes. Yes, Detective Babcock advised me of my rights,'' she said quickly, unconcerned with protocol. ''I'm so glad you came. Did Matthew come with you? Is he here yet?''

''No, he isn't,'' Josie said truthfully, damning the shot of conscience that made her hesitate. She hated herself for leading Grace to believe her brother was going to come at all.

''At least you're here. I was so worried that he wouldn't want to call you.'' Grace put her hand on the table almost as if she expected Josie to hold it. She offered a shaky smile. ''I knew you wouldn't say no to Matthew. Thank you. Thank you so much for coming.''

''You're welcome and for the record, I came for you.'' Josie averted her eyes. She wasn't going to tell Grace she didn't rate a phone call from her brother much less a personal appearance. It had been Tim Douglas who had ordered Josie up like a fast food. ''Anything rough when they arrested you?''

''No, Detective Babcock was very concerned and kind.'' Grace's razor cut hair winged out as she shook her head.

''Goodie for him,'' Josie muttered and bit her bottom lip, buying time so she could put her head in the right place. This wasn't what she had expected.

Assumption: Matthew would be here, Matthew would be strategizing with her, Matthew would align himself and together they would champion Grace.

Reality: Josie barely knew Grace McCreary and it looked like Matthew didn't care what happened to his sister. Surprisingly, that realization calmed Josie immeasurably. This made Grace just like every other client: unknown to Josie, alone, in need of help. They would start from the beginning. Just like every one else.

''Grace, you're going to have to make some fast decisions. I will be very clear with you so that you can act in your best interest,'' Josie began.

''Can't Matthew come in, too?'' Grace asked, those restless eyes of hers looking for him, those busy fingers gesturing as if she could conjure her brother. ''I think he should be here to help me. I. . .I need him.''

There were the tics again. The odd tipping of her chin, the stretch of her neck, fingers to the back of her ears. And there was the ring. Always the ring. A manifestation of anxiety that bordered on obsession. But Josie had seen true obsession in Hannah and this wasn't it.

''No, you don't need Matthew,'' Josie answered. ''Look, Grace, I want to apologize. You wouldn't even be here if I hadn't screwed up today.''

''It's not your fault. You did the best you could.''

Josie was not reassured. Such largesse wasn't normal. Anyone else would be livid to find themselves in this position. They would be begging for answers, guarantees and demanding apologies. Grace's attitude was as off-putting as an opponent who dinks the ball over the net when you're braced for the spike but Josie let it go.

''Okay, then, let's get to business. I'm assuming that you would like to amend our agreement and that I will now be representing you against the charge of murder and not be retained by the committee to elect. Is that correct?''

''Of course. I don't want anyone else. I wouldn't trust anyone else. Matthew said . . .''

''This isn't about Matthew or what he said.'' Josie cut her off sharply. ''If I represent you, I'll keep him advised. I will not allow him to make decisions for you. You'll have to do that on your own.''

''Talking to Matthew is the same as talking to me. He'll do what's best. He loves. . .me. . .'' Suddenly the ring stopped twirling around her finger. Her voice vaporized as if she couldn't quite convince herself of that. He was, after all, absent.

Josie could barely look at her. How pathetic that a woman like Grace depended on a man who couldn't be bothered to even pick up a phone for her. It was one thing for Susan O'Connel, a woman without resources, beaten and brainwashed, not to know which way to turn but Grace's complete lack of self-reliance was inexcusable. She had already proven that she was capable of making an independent decision when she ambushed Josie at the courthouse.

''Look, Grace,'' Josie said impatiently. ''You might as well know, Matthew isn't here. I doubt he's coming. You're going to have to work with me.''

''What do you mean he's not here? I asked Tim to call him, to let him know that. . . .Oh, I see.''

Josie watched as Grace McCreary went through the motions. Anger. Impatience. Amazement. Devastation. Mostly anger in those first few seconds when she realized Matthew couldn't be bothered with her. Perhaps, this was her memory of childhood. Perhaps this was why they had been estranged all those years. Grace: young and bothersome was now older and still vexing. Then the muscles under Grace's skin contracted, hollowing her cheeks, tightening her jaw. Her lashes lowered, her chin dipped to her chest. A second later Grace cautiously made eye contact with Josie and, like a small child emboldened by her attention, began to spin a yarn that made Josie cringe.

''Well, of course Matthew wouldn't be here. He knows you'll have everything well in hand so he'll be talking to people who can help us. Matthew knows so many powerful people. All we have to do is wait.''

''I hope that's not what he's doing. A political favor isn't going to get you out of this mess.'' Josie crossed her arms on the table, trying to imagine how this woman's mind worked. She should be thinking about herself, doing for herself, looking to Josie for help and, yet, her only thought was of her brother.

''Look, Grace, Matthew can get you a dream team of attorneys if you want but he can't pull a string or call in a favor to make everything better. This is a serious situation and you need to treat it that way. Now, if you want a different attorney, fine, but don't rely on Matthew. This is your choice, Grace. Not his.''

''But Matthew will have to be involved. This will affect him,'' she insisted.

''Listen to me. Listen.'' Frustrated, Josie rapped the knuckles of one hand on the metal table. ''If we work together you will be my client. I will give you my best advice, I will advocate for you and when there are decisions to be made we'll talk about them. Bottom line, Grace, you're accused of killing Matthew's wife and a wife trumps a sister any day. If Matthew even thinks that there might be a kernel of truth in the charges, he'll cut you loose. He wouldn't waste a political favor on you.''

Tears came to Grace McCreary's eyes as fast as a gully floods. Fine. A good psychic slap was just what she needed. Josie's father had pulled no punches all those years ago when he confirmed Emily Baylor-Bates wasn't coming home again even for Josie. She had been devastated but now she thanked him for his bluntness. Illusions had no place in the real world. Still, Josie found it hard to be the one to shatter Grace's.

''Do you understand that, Grace?'' Josie lowered her voice to kindness.

''Yes, I do,'' Grace murmured and then her voice grew strong, her determination began to set. She wiped those eyes with the back of her hands and her mascara smudged. ''But I want you to understand me, too. Matthew and his career will always be a consideration. That was Michelle's choice and that is my choice.''

''Fair enough. It will be a consideration,'' Josie agreed, pulling her lips together in what passed for a smile. ''Just know that whatever you tell me stays with me. In return, I expect the truth. If you can't give me that, then I can't represent you.''

''Of course.''

Dead air filled the next second and Josie thought she saw Grace's eyes hood. She could have sworn she saw a snake-like shudder of muscle along Grace's throat as she struggled with the charge to tell the truth. The emerald turned just once. Josie's eyes went to it, this barometer of Grace McCreary's anxiety. When she looked up again, Grace's expression was as naked as a back laid bare to the whip. It seemed the truth was going to be painful and it was time to see exactly how deep the whip went.

''What didn't you tell me this morning, Grace?''

The tears returned. Honest tears. Big tears. Painful tears had been held back for hours and days along with the truth.

''I was with Michelle,'' Grace whispered. ''I saw her jump.''

CHAPTER 10

''I lied when I hired you. I wasn't concerned about Matthew, I was worried about myself and I was scared. If anyone knew I'd been there, Matthew's life would be turned into a sordid soap opera. I would be responsible for his failure. I couldn't live with that.''

Grace took a deep breath. She sat up straight and put her hands on the table, fingers entwining, always going to the ring, touching the stone as she spoke.

''Contacting you was a calculated risk. Matthew's attorneys are loyal to him. If I went to a stranger I would be open to blackmail or they could sell the story to the newspapers. Oh, I know,'' she gave her head a dismissive toss. ''Lawyers are supposed to be above all that but what does an oath mean in the face of big money or a power grab? No,'' Grace said emphatically, making Josie, her confident, her confessor, her comrade in arms. ''Matthew has enemies, Josie. I wasn't going to give them anything to use against him. That's why it had to be you. You understand that, don't you?''

Josie didn't give Grace the satisfaction of agreeing and in the ensuing silence Grace's hands began to shake when no pact was made to protect Matthew at all costs. The emerald stuck at her knuckle. She flicked her fingers to loosen it. Those fingers were angry and impatient and impotent. She threw herself back in her chair, frustrated by Josie's silence. It was as if Grace McCreary was made up of parts independent of the whole. The mind was rationalizing, the body was holding up but the hands were ready to fight.

''No, I don't understand,'' Josie answered finally. ''If you believed I was trustworthy then you would have been completely honest this morning.''