Authors: Julie Compton
Tags: #St. Louis, #Attorney, #Murder, #Psychological Fiction, #Public Prosecutors, #Fiction, #Suspense, #thriller, #Adultery, #Legal Thriller, #Death Penalty, #Family Drama, #Prosecutor
He moved his chair around from the other side of the table and sat next to her.
"When's your arraignment?"
"I'm not sure, next week sometime."
"What? That's crazy! You need to get your bail set and get out of here. You can't wait until next week." He remembered what he wanted to know. "Who's representing you?"
She looked scared, as if she was beginning to realize that perhaps everything that could be happening for her defense, wasn't. "I called Rob when they brought me in. He said they'd handle it through the arraignment, and in the meantime they'd find a criminal lawyer for me." Jack knew she meant Rob Kollman at Newman, and he now also knew she hadn't seen any papers. He held back telling her what he'd read.
"No. You need a criminal lawyer right now. You needed a criminal lawyer two days ago. It shouldn't take so long to get an arraignment scheduled." He stood and roamed the room. "The first few weeks are crucial." As his mind churned, he began to talk more to himself than to Jenny. "I'm going to call Earl. God, why didn't I think of that before? Yeah, I'll call Earl. He's perfect. You need someone who will think of you as more than just a client."
"Jack? Uh, in terms of experience, I mean . . . well, he hasn't been doing defense too long."
"No, you don't understand." He sat again, facing her, and grasped her hands between his. "You couldn't ask for anyone more suited to this. The best criminal defense lawyer is a former prosecutor. He'll know exactly what they're thinking."
"Okay."
"You have to trust me on this one, Jen."
"I trust you."
"He'll have you arraigned and out of here on bail tomorrow."
"Okay," she repeated.
They both looked down at their hands. Neither made an effort to pull away. How could they be touching each other like this after what she'd said that morning? But he couldn't allow his mind to go there. He had to focus on getting her out, on getting her case dismissed.
"Did they give you any indication of what type of evidence they have against you?" He didn't mention what had been reported in the paper.
She shook her head without raising it to look at him.
"Is there anything, anything at all, that you can think of that they might be able to use to tie you to this? Is there someone who might want to set you up?" She continued to shake her head, but he sensed she wanted to tell him something. "What is it, Jen?"
She started to cry again. "It's crazy."
"Tell me. You have to tell me, even if it's crazy."
"I can't. I can't. You won't understand. You'll think I'm crazy. You'll hate me."
"I won't hate you. I could never hate you. You could tell me right now that you murdered Maxine Shepard and I still couldn't hate you."
She looked at him then, and it was the look he'd wanted so badly from her when he told her he loved her, but didn't get. A look that acknowledged how desperately she needed to hear what he'd said. And now it was too late, and they both knew it.
She lowered her head again and began to whisper; her voice was barely audible and he had to ask her to speak up. "I was at her house that day."
"Maxine's house?"
She nodded.
"What day? Thursday?"
He wanted her to hurry, just spill everything she had to tell him, but at the same time he wanted to run and pretend he'd never known her, because he feared what she was about to say. He tried to remember exactly what the articles had said. He was certain, yes, absolutely certain they all had said the murder occurred Thursday night or very early Friday morning.
"Before I met you in the garage that night?"
Another nod.
"Why, Jenny? Why were you at her house?"
She began to sob uncontrollably. He leaned closer and smoothed her hair to comfort her. His touch seemed to upset her more, but he couldn't stop. When he'd left on Friday morning, he'd thought he'd never touch her again.
"It's okay," he whispered. "Tell me anything. Whatever you tell me, it will be okay."
"I went because of Mendelsohn."
"Why?"
She shook her head, resisting. He grabbed her shoulders. "Why?" he repeated, more loudly this time.
"To tell Maxine what he'd done."
"What are you talking about?" He wanted to pry it out of her. Her fragmented answers were making him wild. "Did you find out more about Mendelsohn's involvement in the litigation you were handling for her?"
She tried to take a deep breath; her body shuddered when she exhaled. She nodded. "When I went back to my office—"
"When? After going to Maxine's?"
"No, after lunch that day. He was waiting for me. He was in my office." She blew her nose. "He was sitting in my chair, all smug-looking, and he says" —she imitated his voice— "'So, Ms. Dodson, have you heard the good news yet?' He was referring to the partnership decision. Stan had told me that morning that I'd made partner."
"You didn't tell me."
"Yeah, well . . ." She paused, as if reconsidering whether to say what was on her mind. "We were a little occupied with other things, wouldn't you say?"
Jack didn't respond, but he remembered her words:
You're very selfish
.
"Anyway, Mendelsohn told me I'd been voted in, but reminded me nothing was official until I signed all the papers and paid my equity. And then he says he got a phone call from Maxine that morning that could affect my partnership.
"He said that she had been reviewing many of her invoices from the firm and felt that I had billed way too much time on her cases. She wanted to know how I'd ever been allowed to rack up such exorbitant fees."
"What'd you say?"
"I defended the invoices." She laughed bitterly. "I told him, in so many words, to shove it up his ass. I hadn't done anything wrong and I knew it. And that's when I made my mistake."
"In what way?"
"I suggested that maybe it was him who had done something wrong."
The pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place, and what he'd seen so far scared him.
"The reason I'd billed so much to the files was because I was digging. I discovered that there was a reason Mendelsohn didn't try harder to dissuade Maxine from making those bad deals."
Jack waited, silent.
"It seems Maxine was investing in Mendelsohn, only she didn't know it."
"Whoa. You told him you knew?" he asked.
"Not really. I mean, I didn't come right out and tell him. But like I said, I did suggest that maybe he was the one doing something wrong." She started to cry again. "It was so stupid of me. I knew better, but he made me so mad. I let him get to me."
"What'd he say?"
She wiped her eyes with the damp handkerchief, trying to stop her tears. "Oh, you know, just what you'd expect from him. He lashed out at me. Threatened me. I think his exact words were something like 'You'd better be careful before making unfounded allegations against people, Ms. Dodson, or you might find it hard to get work in this city.'"
"Tell me how you ended up at Maxine's house," Jack said gently.
"I went to tell her what I'd discovered. I was afraid that because I'd hinted to him that I knew he'd done something wrong, he'd try to get to her first, and then she wouldn't believe me."
"Do you think he found out that you went there?"
"I don't know. Why?"
He looked at her. He didn't want to tell her. "Jenny, Mendelsohn's telling the papers that Newman has been investigating you."
"What do you mean? Investigating me for what?"
He hesitated. "For embezzlement. I think he's trying to make it look like you were the one bilking Maxine, not him."
Fear clouded her eyes as she began to understand. If Mendelsohn believed his scheme was crumbling, and if he knew that Jenny had already gotten to Maxine, he might have tried to use Jenny's visit to kill two birds with one stone. He could get rid of Maxine and at the same time make it look like Jenny had done it.
"Oh, God." She began to wail again. "I was so stupid! How was I supposed to know? I would never have dreamed he was capable of something like that."
"Jenny, listen to me," he demanded in an effort to calm her down. "Just because you were there . . . that's not enough. You know that."
She nodded, but she didn't look convinced. He reached up and touched her hair again, this time weaving his fingers through it as he pushed it away from her face. He had the urge to stand up, take her hand and try to walk out of the building with her.
"Tell me something. Why didn't you just go to Stan after this conversation with Mendelsohn?"
"I planned to, eventually. But I wanted to talk to Maxine first. I didn't want to go to Stan until I had all my ducks in a row, you know?"
"You went straight to her house after your meeting with Mendelsohn?"
Jenny nodded.
"Did you call her? Was she expecting you?"
"No. I was afraid that if I called her ahead of time, she wouldn't see me."
"What happened when you saw her?"
"She was very rude to me when I first arrived. She wouldn't even let me in." She smiled sadly. "You would have been very proud of me, Jack. I kept my cool the whole time, and that's why she finally agreed to listen to me. I'd brought my files with me so I could explain to her what I'd discovered, and I asked her if we could go over them together."
Jack tried to process all the information she had given him. "Jenny, how much are we talking about? How much did he take her for?"
"It's easily in the hundreds of thousands."
"Jesus." He shook his head in disbelief. "Why would he do that? Why would he risk everything like that?"
Her head had been hanging low; she'd kept her eyes down through most of her explanation. But then she looked up at him, her sad eyes cutting into him laser sharp. He looked away, and all she said was, "I don't know. That's the part I haven't figured out."
There was a knock at the door and the guard shouted "Two minutes, Mr. Hilliard."
"Jenny, tell me quickly. Did Maxine understand?"
"Yes, yes," she said, nodding vehemently. "She planned to come to the firm the next day, and we were going to meet with Stan to tell him what I'd discovered." She began to cry again, though she tried to contain it. "It's my word against Mendelsohn now."
"No, there are the documents."
"I don't know, Jack. He's not stupid. He's probably already gathered the files and destroyed them. I locked them in my office when I left on Friday. But if he'd commit murder, I'm sure he'd have no qualms about breaking into my office to find those files. I'm sure they're history now."
"There's gotta be a paper trail, Jen, or something. What about the other attorneys, the ones who were fired? They'll back you up."
"I don't know. We don't know how much they know."
He paused, thinking. "What happened Friday, when Maxine didn't show up for your meeting with Stan?"
"I tried to call her house, but of course she never answered. I left several messages."
"That can only help your defense."
"I didn't even see Mendelsohn. His secretary told me he was out all day speaking at some seminar. So I relaxed a bit. I felt maybe I'd been a bit paranoid and that he had no intentions of going to Maxine. I decided that he must have believed I'd back off after he threatened me. I left work that day around five and spent the weekend in Chicago. I didn't even know she'd been murdered until" —she paused to take a deep breath— "until they picked me up getting off the plane on Sunday."
"Jesus." He could just imagine the scene at the airport. He wondered what had gone through Jenny's head when she learned that Maxine had been murdered the same night she'd been with Jack. "Listen, the guard will be back any second. I'll call Earl as soon as I leave. I'll tell him all this, but you need to tell him, too, okay? Everything. Everything you can think of."
She nodded.
"You haven't told this to Rob or anyone else from Newman, have you?"
"No, no one's been over to see me yet. I keep calling them, and they say they're coming, but no one's showed up yet."
He looked at her in disbelief.
"I was afraid to call you."
"I'm sorry. I was trying to get in. I can't believe I didn't think to call Earl as soon as I'd heard. I was just so . . . after everything . . . I couldn't think straight. He'll get you out today. I promise, okay?"
"Yes," she whispered. "Can I ask a favor of you?"
"Anything."
"Will you feed my cats? They're probably getting a little hungry by now."
He smiled. "Yeah, Jen, I'll feed your cats." He reached to smooth a stray hair, but she leaned away.
"It's going to work out; don't worry. I'm sure of it." She stood. "You should go now."
The door opened without warning and the guard stepped in. "Sorry, Mr. Hilliard, the boss is going to be on my case if I let you stay any longer. I've already stretched it."
Jack nodded and turned back to Jenny. "I'll be at the arraignment," he whispered.
"Jack." She grabbed his arm as he started to leave. "Not even Earl."
He hesitated, unsure of her meaning. And then it dawned upon him. "But—"
"Not even Earl, Jack. Promise."
"Okay."
I promise
, he mouthed.
When he left the building, he saw a late-model Chrysler parked at the bottom of the steps against the curb in the no parking zone. He recognized the man in the passenger seat—Jim Wolfe, the legal reporter who had questioned him at the lake last summer. He must have staked out the court building and followed him to the jail. Jack turned quickly, hoping that Wolfe hadn't seen him, but when he reached the corner he heard the car door slam.
"Mr. Hilliard," Wolfe called to him.
Jack waved without turning around, to signify,
Not now
.
"Mr. Hilliard," Wolfe called again, closer this time. "Just a moment of your time, please."
In an instant he was next to Jack, walking with him.
"Mr. Hilliard, did you see Ms. Dodson? Can you tell me what was said?"
Jack stopped abruptly. "Mister, uh, what's your name again?" he said, though he knew.