A Conflict of Interest (12 page)

“Maria’s thinking I’ll probably make things worse, but I’m glad to have the chance to prove I’ve changed.”

“Bryony? You know you’ve never met this man?”

“He seems to know you well.”

Maria’s skin flamed. She dared not look at Jake.

“Give me a chance, Maria.”

How could she take money from her sister? Or maybe her lesson for this visit was that she was supposed to give up one more guy to her gorgeous, extroverted sibling.

But she wouldn’t let Jake go without hand-to-hand combat.

She leaned around her sister, kissed Jake with a hint she simply couldn’t resist of “he’s mine,” and then ran for her car. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, Bryony. See you tonight, Jake.”

A
FTER A FRUITLESS SEARCH
of Maria’s porch and the shrubbery around it, Jake was late when he took his seat behind the bench and waved the jury and the gallery into theirs. Gil Daley was back at the prosecutor’s table. Jake schooled himself to feel no bias because of what had happened to Maria in Gil’s hands.

“Come to order,” he said. This time, Gil was prosecuting a car thief named Cal Richardson who’d offended against the community and then offended again at least four times that Jake knew of. Cal claimed each of the owners had lent their vehicles to him. Wait, no—he suggested on the stand, to his own attorney’s despair, that maybe they’d hired him to sell the cars.

The jury wasn’t supposed to know that Cal’s career in Honesty had been broken up by a stretch in the prison over in Layton, but it was an open secret. Probably half the jury knew Cal.

So they’d have to overcome their own assumptions to do the right thing and give him a fair trial. Decide this case according to the evidence, rather than knowledge of Cal’s past. Jake wished the man luck. Griff’s jury had judged both Maria and Griff on the basis of gossip.

Jake looked down at his laptop screen. Blank. Usually, he kept his own notes on each case. Facts, hints, legal questions he needed to research. But today he was a different man. He couldn’t keep his mind on his job. He made himself a note to ask for today’s transcript.

Wouldn’t it have been wiser to make sure Maria was innocent before he’d made love with her? They’d crossed a line, and he prayed his daughter wouldn’t suffer because he hadn’t been able to rein in his emotions. He prayed Leila had contacted one of the therapists Maria had suggested.

“Your Honor,” the defense said, in the tone of an attorney who expected him to rule on a motion.

“Repeat please, for the record,” he said, as if the court reporter and not he had been distracted. While the attorney restated her objection, Jake glanced surreptitiously at his watch. He still had to deliver his aunt’s medication.

And no matter what Maria said, he wanted a look at Griff’s new home. Maybe just a drive by to see if Griff and his cousins were around. Jake rubbed his mouth. The kid wouldn’t take up murder in plain sight just because he might have got away with it once in the privacy of his home.

For now, it was time Jake got his mind back on business and stopped all this “feeling.” It got in the way of court.

“W
HY ARE YOU SO WORRIED,
Maria?” Bryony greeted her at the front door with a mug of steaming coffee. “Nobody else saw your gentleman caller, and I won’t tell.”

Shucking off her coat and gloves and hat, Maria avoided her sister’s gaze. Growing up in their many homes, they’d both learned how to keep secrets. Her own therapist in college had said her deepest challenge would be admitting when she was afraid. And she was now.

She cared so much for Jake she was taking ridiculous chances with her reputation. She’d let him see how vulnerable her feelings for him made her. Bryony would have to be blind to miss the fact that Maria was half in love with Jake already, but Maria had to convince her sister she was still the rational, responsible Keaton.

She took the mug and flashed her best brittle smile. “I’m not afraid you’ll sell pictures to the newspaper.”

Bryony touched her arm. “Not so sure I won’t go after your guy, though? It’s been a long time since I got a kick out of stealing other girls’ boyfriends.”

“Jake’s not my boyfriend. Women my age do not have boyfriends.”

“Normal ones who don’t fear looking irresponsible,” Bryony said. “You should give yourself credit. Attitude is everything, and your attitude has changed.”

Maria lifted her head. “Because I’m known for seducing little boys?”

“I never believed that for a second.”

“Not capable of seducing?” She took a painfully hot sip of her coffee and barely managed to swallow, choking. She held up her hand. “My God, that was a stupid thing to say.”

“I push your buttons.” Bryony shrugged. “I’m sorry about that.” She nudged Maria toward the kitchen. “But
you never understood about the boys. Or me. I knew you disapproved of me. It made me angry.”

“So you thought taking any guy who was interested in me was a good idea?”

“It was good, if ugly, revenge. I never realized you’d think I was going to stay that girl for the rest of my life.”

“I’m not very healthy where you and Mom are concerned.”

“How could you be? We can barely spend time in the same town, and Mom still mooches off you.”

Maria opened her mouth, but Bryony cut her off.

“I know. That was supposed to be your secret, but Mom asked if I could make up the difference.”

“I don’t mind helping her. I’m just tired of my own mess and worried that I won’t be able to provide for both of us.”

“So you can’t be her 401k?”

Her tone mocked herself as much as their mother. Maria carried her mug to the kitchen, whose warmth reassured her. “I try not to think like that now. I have no room to judge anyone else. I just worry about Mom. And you.”

“Maybe you didn’t even want Jake to know about us.”

“All right.” She turned at the bar stools. “Cut it out. If you want to argue, say what’s on your mind.”

“I got the idea you were ashamed of me when you introduced us.”

“You misunderstood.” Maria sat at the bar and caught sight of an egg casserole and biscuits. “And you’ve been cooking.”

“I wouldn’t starve you just because you don’t want me here. You’re too thin.”

“I want you here.” Maria wasn’t sure she did, but that was her problem, not Bryony’s. “But I didn’t expect you this morning, and I wasn’t hoping to show off a—” What? A new relationship? That was too tame.

“A lover?” Bryony asked.

“Jake. He never stayed here before. I may have acted sanctimonious with you and Mom all our lives, but your opinion matters to me. Jake and I don’t know each other well enough to—”

Bryony laid a hand on Maria’s shoulder and closed her eyes, opening them again with a look like Job’s when another trial showed up. “How can you be so fearless when it comes to treating your patients, but frozen in your own life?”

“Thanks for the diagnosis. Now tell me why you’ve come.”

“Like I said, to help you. Mom and I talked. You need help. People always want a clown, and I know how to position myself at this time of year. Kelly the Klown takes a bit of the tension and the anticipation off Santa. I’m a regular pressure valve.”

Maria laughed. “Two grand statements in the space of a moment.”

“It’s the entertainer in me.” Bryony went to the laptop she’d set up on the table. “I’ve made a list of the day cares and private schools in town. They always let me put up flyers. Sometimes I get a job just by talking to the owners and the teachers.”

“You probably shouldn’t mention my name. Especially at the day care. Jake’s daughter works at one and I don’t want her to know he was here last night.”

“Are you kidding?” While she talked, she whirled
around the kitchen, dishing up casserole and biscuits. “I’ll be sure not to mention Jake, but I’m going to rehabilitate you. Kelly wouldn’t love a bad-girl sister.”

Maria stared at the plate Bryony plunked in front of her. “I love you.”

“Of course you do.”

“I want you to stay, and it’s not just because you can cook.” She continued around a bite of biscuit. “You’re always on my side.”

“Isn’t this Jake on your side? If not—”

“But don’t you have friends who’ll expect you for Christmas?” Maria cut her sister off. She’d already covered the “if” in her head. Over and over.

Bryony donned the patient look of Job again. “I know it’s not our way, but maybe you could consider me and the rent I’m going to pay you as a character-building exercise. You shrinks should embrace those. I’m one more life-changing event for you this Christmas.”

“Thank you. I’m only beginning to realize I need to change my life.”

A
T THE LUNCH BREAK,
Jake ran his aunt’s medication over to her and then did a slow roll past Maria’s house. He hadn’t shared his concern over last night’s bang on the door, but he wanted to make sure Maria and her sister were safe.

After court, the last call he made that day was to Tom Drake. The sheriff picked up his own phone. “Don’t tell me you’ve found something we missed in Griff’s files,” he said.

“No.” Maria would laugh at him for believing he could have worked such a miracle. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Another one? At least you’re asking, rather than ripping a new—”

“Tom, I’m serious.”

“What do you need, Jake?”

“I want to talk to Griff’s aunt and uncle.”

“Not a chance. That kid had a trial.”

“I didn’t question him.”

“If Daley let the people down, that’s the breaks of the system. I don’t even have legal grounds to bring Butler in.”

“Yeah.” Jake tapped the top of his desk, his neat blotter, fancy pens and lack of clutter suddenly giving him a view of himself through Leila’s eyes. Maybe through Maria’s. For longer than he could remember, structure had mattered more to him than the messes that people made.

Not anymore.

“How about a patrol, Tom?”

“On Griff and his family? Are you kidding? We don’t have enough budget problems without being sued for harassment?”

“Someone either beat on Maria Keaton’s door or threw something at it last—” No need to expose her to chitchat over the police scanner. “Yesterday. I couldn’t find anything out there, but the sound was threatening, and I’m concerned for her.”

“Why’d she call you, Jake? Her phone doesn’t dial nine-one-one?”

“Why are you arguing with every suggestion I make? Just schedule the drive-by. Make sure the kid stays on his own property. Or off hers.”

“Why not patrol her house?”

“Because even though half the town suspects her, I think Griff’s the only one crazy enough to hurt her, Sheriff. I’d rather know where he is than have him surprise her. Wouldn’t we afford anyone in Honesty this small amount of protection?”

“Jake, I’m telling you this as a friend. You need to get yourself under control. I’m starting to think this Keaton woman’s as bad as Buck Collier said.”

“I’d better be the only person you say that to, Tom.”

“Yes, sir.”

From the courthouse, Jake went to his own home and packed a small bag. Just for tonight, he told himself. He’d gone out of his way to help both defendants and victims who’d appeared before him in court. He’d arranged drug rehab or bought groceries. He’d pressured landlords who didn’t believe in roof repair and he’d sent child protection officers to homes they’d previously ignored.

This was no different. If no one came pounding on Maria’s door tonight, he’d go home, and that would be that.

According to Jake’s aunt Helen, Maria usually left early in the morning and made a full-time job of looking for work. She answered when he rang her bell and stared at the bag in his right hand.

“I’m not assuming,” he said, as her expression was no mystery. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

She obviously believed that as much as he did. She looked at him as though she also feared he was out of control.

“What about Leila?” Maria folded her arms across her chest. “What if someone notices you coming out of my house tomorrow morning? How will you explain?”

A movement over Maria’s shoulder caught his eye, and then a clown took shape in the semidark hall. He laughed at Bryony’s banana-yellow hair and jumper and her regulation white face. Her large, painted mouth, a serious and somehow malevolent line, made him understand close up why Leila had screamed her way through countless birthday parties.

“What?” Maria looked, and then gasped, backing into him. “Bryony, how many times have I begged you not to do that?”

“So I need a real smile?”

“Unless you want to create future therapy opportunities for me,” Maria said.

“It could be good for business,” Jake said, his hand heavy and warm on her shoulder.

“Kelly the Klown has always been the stuff of my nightmares.” Maria pushed the front door shut. “But Bryony’s also a marketing genius. She picked up a couple of parties today.”

“Your daughter helped me get one gig,” Bryony said.

“My daughter? Leila? She share’s Dr. Keaton’s feelings about clowns.”

“But her day care hired Bryony for day after tomorrow,” Maria said. “A party to help kick off the holiday season.”

Swirling in a whisper of clown costume, Bryony flounced back down the hall. “I guess I’ll try on the happy face, but I prefer this one.”

“Bryony scares the crap out of me every time she puts on Kelly the Klown.” Maria took his bag and set it beside the couch. “It must be the makeup.”

“From all that talk in court, I thought nothing scared
you.” This new information fascinated him. He’d been afraid for her today when he was pushing Tom around.

Worry shadowed her eyes. “I get scared,” she said. “I’ve made a habit of wearing clothes, and I don’t require three squares total, but regular meals are a feature of life.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Jake said, even though he couldn’t know that. Even though he felt as guilty as if he had called the board and brought this problem to her door.

Maria smiled into his eyes. She tucked his arm close to her side. He felt like groaning at the thrust of her breasts.

“I missed you, too,” she said.

“I can stay?” He was relieved he wouldn’t have to be all alpha male with her.

“Bryony thinks I turn my back on people to prove I’m strong.”

“Who knew a canary-yellow clown could be a font of wisdom?” He pulled his arm free to hug her as he fumbled for his phone. “I should call Leila.”

“Is something up with her?” Maria asked.

“No,” he said casually. Whether he yelled Tom down or caused havoc in Maria’s life with the certainty he was right, he had insecurities of his own. “Ever since I found out about the cutting, I call her every night, usually right before I leave the office. If she doesn’t hear from me, she might wonder. She might think I’ve regressed, and I’m not ever going to live-and-let-live with Leila again.”

“But won’t she ask where you are?”