Unfit to Practice (23 page)

He sat back against his chair. “Mario had just gotten out of prison that day and he came by my place to collect some money I really do owe him. This was in the afternoon. Well, Phoebe was there, hiding in the back room, scared to death he would find out we were now a couple, right? So I wouldn't let him in. I gave him twenty bucks to camp because money was tight temporarily, and I couldn't cover a motel room right that minute with what I had in my pocket. Phoebe was in a crappy mood after he left and she wouldn't even talk to me. Anyway, a while later, she took off without saying where she was going. I figured I'd find her at the campground. I should have just left them alone. But Mario can get rabid when he drinks.”

“You thought he might get rough with her?”

“Well, yeah. Now wait a minute. I don't mean I was afraid he'd kill her! I never thought that.”

Paul nodded, listening.

“So I went over to see if she was there. She was.”

“And what did she say?”

“Not much. He told me they were back together, everything was simpatico now. We all got to drinking out of nervousness and that's when Mario and I got into it a little. I found it hard to accept that she would just walk out on me like that. So we fought over her. She was in the middle, torn, you know? Mario was her original boyfriend and she felt loyal. But I know she cared about me a lot.”

“You folks caused quite a commotion. The ranger got involved, as I understand it.”

“Right. He broke it up and sent me on my way.”

“But you came back. What did you do, park your bike on the street and walk in?”

He nodded. “The last thing on my mind was to wake up Mario. I just wanted to talk to Phoebe alone, without his influence. I ducked in and woke her up, and believe me, it wasn't easy. She was passed out. When she finally seemed conscious we went outside the tent and I asked her, did she want him or me. That's what it came down to. Him or me. I told her I loved her.”

“And she said?”

“She told me to go away and we'd talk in the morning. She kissed me and I still thought I had a chance. I had no reason to kill her, man!”

“And that was the end of it.”

Cody's eyes hardened. “That's right. She crawled back into the tent and that's the last time I saw her alive.”

“And what time was this?”

“Nighttime, late. How should I know?”

Jack's face when he caught sight of Paul arriving at Bueno Nalo Restaurant in Sacramento that night with Nina: priceless.

Once upon a time, while Nina and Jack were still married and living in San Francisco, that look of raw irritation at being thwarted from some private ambition would have scared her, made her jump to attention and try to alleviate it. She had been deeply involved with Jack then and his disposition prevailed over hers. She would tiptoe around his fits of temperament as if avoiding potent, half-hidden land mines.

Now the look on his face made her laugh. He looked like a small, spoiled child, face puckered, tantrum brewing. Smiling, saying hello and sitting down, she wondered again what he could possibly want with her aside from a good legal fee.

Paul seemed in a fine humor. Ignoring Jack's mood, he left to wash his hands as soon as the margaritas had been ordered.

“I expected to meet you alone,” Jack said.

“But that was not to be.” The drinks arrived and Nina slouched a little and had a short sip. “Oh, sorry,” she went on. “A toast. To—to Saturday nights.”

Jack, unbending, said, “I'd like you to send Paul on his way.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to speak frankly with you. About your situation. Talk law with you. We're putting Paul in a spot. The conversation's not privileged if he's here.”

“He'll never tell. Besides, he's our investigator. It's work-product.”

“Okay, the truth. I want to have dinner with you, just you. Get a little undivided attention.” He rubbed some salt off the glass and had a taste of it. Grimacing, he took his napkin and wiped all around the rim, saying, “Could you just tell him we have to talk alone? Please?”

“Why don't you tell him?” All this was so familiar. Jack's power play, her automatic resistance.

“That's a laugh. He'd never leave.”

Nina looked down. “I want him here, Jack. Please don't make a big deal about it. Back to business, remember?”

“Well, I'm disappointed.”

“Why? Why should we be alone?”

“Because we have a lot to say to each other.”

“Not anymore.”

“I've been thinking some more since our phone call. I want you to see how I've changed since we were together.”

“For Pete's sake,” Nina said, exasperated. “One thing sure hasn't changed. You're the king of chutzpah. Paul and I are together. He's in the bathroom right now, unaware that his good buddy is trying to undercut him. And what is it you want? An ego boost? I don't believe you're pining for me. I can't.”

Jack said, “Whoa. Please, Nina. Don't turn into a lawyer on me. Don't use words to hurt me. I've been hurt a lot recently.”

“I'm s—”

Fortunately for Nina, Paul slid in beside her before she could break down and apologize to Jack's large, sorrowful eyes. “Ah,” Paul said. “I see you started without me.” His sharp eyes took in the situation. “What's up, buddy?” he asked Jack.

“I wept on Nina's icy shoulder. But to return to our earthly concerns, Nina, report.”

“Well, on the way here, I delivered two checks to Fresno, one to Kao Vang and one to Mrs. Vang, for a hundred and five thousand dollars apiece minus legal fees and costs. Mrs. Vang cried, then thanked me and put a white scarf around my neck and gave me a blessing.”

“And Kao Vang?”

“He muttered in Hmong. Dr. Mai didn't even try to translate. The tenor of Kao's remarks was that he wuz robbed. I think he put a juju on me, or the Hmong equivalent.”

“Any chance he'd go after his wife for her share?” Paul said.

“I think she can handle herself. I doubt Kao is a violent person, Paul. We're always so paranoid.”

“Call it cautious until proven paranoid.”

Jack set down his drink hard. “It's out of your hands now. You made the payout. Case closed.”

“I still don't have the file with my intake notes,” Nina said. “And the other robber, the arsonist, is still out there.”

“Loose ends,” Paul said. “How I hate loose ends. Especially when it's possible they connect. Maybe the second robber in this insurance case took your files. He knows about the money now, and he makes a move on one or both of the Vangs. Case maybe not closed is my feeling.”

“I talked with both of them about that,” Nina said. “They are aware that they need to be careful. I even took Mrs. Vang to the bank and helped her deposit the check. But I know what you mean, Paul. I'm still concerned.”

“Part of it has to do with the events of the other two cases,” Paul said. They ordered the specials and a pitcher of margaritas this time. Now halfway through his drink, Jack seemed to be settling down, but Nina had an uneasy feeling that the three of them should not have sat down together tonight.

“Okay, status report on the other two cases,” Jack said.

“Warning flags,” Paul told him, “described in brief. In the Cruz case, the girlfriend, Ali Peck, insists the subpoena originated with Riesner.”

“So we still don't know if Riesner knew about her all the time and saved that little surprise for the last day of the hearing, or if the thief called him and told him, or if Riesner stole my Bronco, or Lisa stole it, or Scholl—” The waitress brought fresh salsa and chips, and salads of greens, orange slices, and jicama. Both Jack and Paul watched her saunter away.

“I think the first he heard of Ali Peck was the night the Bronco was stolen,” Paul went on. “Cody Stinson told me he got a call. No reason for him to lie. So I think we do have somebody out there with the files and a phone. Could be Riesner got a call, too, just like he said. If he knows anything more that's useful about this supposed phone call, we have to know it.” He attacked his salad. “We need to ask him.”

“What, and expect a straight answer?” Nina asked. “He lies just because he can. And, Paul, you can't go to him. He'll call out reinforcements the minute he sees your face.”

“Let me guess why,” Jack said, taking a tortilla chip from the bowl and loading on the salsa. “Paul's famous composure.”

“This from a man who prides himself on drawing blood in a courtroom without the benefit of a weapon,” Paul said. “Need I say more? And while we're at it, shall we discuss your cool with Riesner, Nina? That little pepper-spray episode?”

“Maybe a third party could convince him that it wouldn't hurt him to help for once,” Jack said. “Like me.”

Paul and Nina looked at each other.

“You?” they said.

“I could explain that I represent you in the matter of the lost files. I'd make him see how he doesn't want us thinking he had something to do with it.”

“Scholl had the best opportunity,” Nina said. “She found the Bronco. Maybe she stole the Bronco, discovered the files in there, did some damage, then took her time to let me know she had found my truck. And Lisa Cruz, well, she has a grudge against me, which was resurrected when Kevin hired me. I wouldn't put anything past her. Wish I knew more about these people.”

“They're on my To Do list, Nina,” Paul said. “Along with Riesner.”

“How far do you need to take this investigation?” Jack asked. “Maybe it's a waste of time at this point. The cats are debagged and running wild already.”

“Know your enemy, Jack,” Paul said. “Nina's got one, and I think she ought to know who it is. This might be the skirmish before the battle. She's got to be prepared.”

“Sandy called a friend of hers at Riesner's office to hear what she could hear,” Nina said. “She found out that the same night the files disappeared, Jeff Riesner hosted a family reunion at his house. At least seven relatives stayed over. His house was bursting at the seams. His secretary went over there and spent the evening serving hors d'oeuvres. I know, I know, that is by no means an airtight alibi. But for him to sneak away in the middle of the night with so many people around him—it just doesn't sound right. Besides—auto theft?”

“Then why don't I just ask him again?” Jack said. “It may be the only chance we have to find out who outed the girl, right?”

Paul said, “You don't know this dude, Jack.”

“You're the only one allowed to help Nina, is that it?” Jack asked.

Another shift in the weather, both Paul and Jack glowering.

“Give it a shot,” Nina said, worn out with her peacekeeping efforts. “I'll have Sandy call you with the number.”

But the swift changes of atmosphere of the last few minutes seemed to have billowed up into a major storm.

“Jack, get over it.” Paul put his hand on Nina's knee this time. “Deal with reality, meaning me, or get off the case. She doesn't need you anyway. According to your own view, there is no case anyway. The clients are muddling through without their files. Maybe you should just head home while you can still drive under the DUI limit.”

Jack took a big slug of his second margarita. “Some friend,” he said. “Some freakin' friend you are.”

“You left her! Have you forgotten?”

Nina waved her hand. “Hey, guys, remember me? The one who pays you both? How about we finish our talk, have a nice dinner with lots of ice water, and all of us hit the road. We're tired and hungry and as a result we're not at our best. So, how about we pack up our troubles and enjoy the meal?” Big hot plates of flautas and enchiladas and chiles rellenos had materialized in front of them. The aroma quickly softened their glares. They picked up their forks and dug in.

Nina took a bite, then put her fork down. She had lost her appetite. “Let's start over. I think the issue here is, what about these loose ends? Am I out of the woods yet? Jack says I am. Paul seems less certain. And I, well, I'm going to chew my fingernails, not just because there are some details we don't know, but because I got my clients and myself into this situation in the first place.”

“Don't blame yourself,” Paul said.

She waved that away. Of course she blamed herself.

She forged on, “Paul, thanks to you, we have something new to work on. We know that Cody Stinson says he got an anonymous phone call telling him about Brandy. If he did get that call, it was from someone motivated and cruel enough to place those two women in a potentially life-threatening situation. So who might that be? Mario didn't steal the files. He was in jail. Cody didn't steal the files, because at that time he had no idea the girls were witnesses.”

“Maybe he did,” Jack said.

“But—”

“Maybe he noticed the girls that night at the campground and decided he better check them out. Maybe he followed one of them to your office. Maybe he followed you home that night, seeing you put your briefcase in the truck. He's about to snag the files and he thinks, let's dirty the waters, I'll take the truck, too.”

Nina popped a slice of orange into her mouth and considered this. “Maybe,” she said. “Paul, can you find out if Stinson has ever been arrested for auto theft or theft in general?”

“Sure will,” Paul said. “Then what?”

“Maybe we return to our normal impossible caseloads and pardon Nina for her terrible misdeeds for the time being?” Nina said. “The leads peter out at that point. The police aren't going anywhere. Maybe nothing further will happen.”

“Cody claims he didn't kill Phoebe,” Paul said. “Do we care if he's telling the truth?”

“Trust me, they all say that,” Jack said.

“I'm not a rube, Jack. I'm telling you both, he left some real questions in my mind.”

“What do you recommend?” Nina said.

“I'll pass on my concerns to Fred Cheney at the police department. Beyond that, Cody has his own lawyer. I'll keep tabs. That's about it.”

“Okay.”

“What about the sisters?” Jack said. “They had a bad scare. They could still file a complaint against you.”

“And Brandy's fiancé, Bruce Ford, was accosted by Stinson,” Nina said. “He's a lawyer. It's my fault Stinson did that. He was angry.”

“You know, I have a different feeling about lawyers since they became my sole clients,” Jack said. “They are deeply conservative. They want to avoid personal trouble. Ford didn't get hurt. Would he waste a lot of his valuable time filing a complaint against you?”