Family Counsel (The Samuel Collins Series Book 2) (11 page)

I figured Felicia would be harassing me on a daily basis until Niki
concluded his investigation, but during the next couple of weeks, Felicia was
again conspicuously quiet. She didn’t call my office one time to check on the
progress of the investigation, or to ask to sue the judge or the postman or
anyone else for that matter. I got that same gut feeling that I’d had in the
car that no good could come from her silence, and with each day that passed
with no word from her, the more nervous I got.  So when she finally called me
after more than two weeks, I was actually relieved to hear her voice.

“Hi, Sam.  I’m at my aunt’s ranch and I need you and Maddie to
come out here.  I have something I need to talk to you about.”

“That’s what phones are for.  What’s up?”

“No.  There’s something I need to show you in person,” she said
cryptically.  Why couldn’t she just be normal for once?  Why did she have to be
such a drama queen?

“Felicia,” I said calmly.  “You’re 50 miles away.”

“I wouldn’t ask you if it weren’t important.”

I doubted the veracity of the statement, but I kept my tongue. 
“When are you talking about?  You mean
today
?”

“Today would be great,” she said enthusiastically, like I’d
already committed to it.

I looked at my calendar.  It was Friday, and I’d be in trial on
Tuesday.  “It’s not a good time for me, Felicia.”  When she didn’t respond, I
asked, “Is there something wrong?”

“No.  I just need you to come out here.  It has to do with the
investigation of Serenity. I’ve got some useful information.”

I needed to put her off.  “Let me call Maddie.  I think she’s
busy this afternoon.”

“I’ve already talked to her,” Felicia said cheerfully. “She
said it wasn’t a problem.  You can bring the kids and spend the night.  We’ll
have a picnic down on the river.” 

“It’s supposed to rain.”

“Oh, those weathermen always get it wrong,” she said, and I
couldn’t argue with that.

 “I still have at least two hours of work I’ve got to finish
before I could leave here.  It would be 5:00 at the earliest before we  could get
there.”  I hoped the delay would discourage her and she’d let me off the hook. 
No such luck.

“That’ll be great!  We’ll barbecue.”

“Whatever.  But Maddie’s not going to want to spend the night,”
I added.

“She said she was fine with it.  I’ll leave the gate open.”

“Yeah, yeah.  Got to go.”  I hung up and speed dialed my wife. 
“You told Felicia that we’d spend the night at the ranch?” I asked in
disbelief.

“Whale, hello to you too, husband dear.  And no.  I told her it
was up to you; but that I was fine with it.  The boys would love it.  They
could play down by the river.  I thought it would be fun.”

“Yeah, maybe for them,” I pouted.

“For us too.  We could take a moonlight stroll, maybe check out
that old hay barn,” she said suggestively. 

“The hay barn, huh?”  The thought of sneaking off with my wife
and having a romp in the hay sounded pretty damn appealing.  “Victoria’s Secret
is having a sale,” I mentioned.

Maddie laughed.  “How do you know that?”

“I have my ways.”

“Any particular color you fancy?”

“No.  But I’ll expect you to be wearing a set of those wings.”

Maddie laughed again and it made me laugh.  “Does that mean
we’re going?” she asked.

“We’re going.”

*    *    *    *

A trip is not a trip until you’ve traveled with children.  If
getting kids in and out of car seats is a hassle, getting all their gear packed
is a thousand times worse.  An overnight trip turns into a monumental task. 
Hell, for all the effort it takes, you might as well stay a week or a month, as
a day.  Because whether it’s 24 hours or 24 days, you still have to load up all
that crap.  With the portable crib, the stroller, the baby’s tub, the monitor,
diapers, wipes . . . we were
Babies R Us
on wheels.

Felicia’s great aunt had lived in an old farm house outside the
small community of Comfort, a town nestled in the heart of the Texas Hill County.  I’m always amazed how quickly the terrain changes heading out West on
IH-10.  Maddie was oohing and ahhing over the wildflowers the whole drive out,
which would have bugged me if I wasn’t so fond of her.  She knew the name of
every variety; at least she acted like she did.   For all I knew, she could be
making them up, because they were ridiculous names like Indian Paint Brushes or
Mexican Hats.  If I had to come up with a name for them, I’d clump the lot of
them together and classify them as weeds.

But the drive was surprisingly peaceful, with Morgan napping
and Maddie and the boys playing games that I’d grown up with on cross country
family vacations -
I Spy
, animal counting games, and once we got out to
the country, windmill spotting.  I had a chance to reflect on what could
possibly be so important that Felicia couldn’t talk about over the phone, and
the more I thought about it, the more irked I became at Maddie’s cousin.  The
thought that there was something inherently wrong with the woman crossed my
mind more than once, and I found myself wondering what had happened to make the
woman so starved for attention that she constantly needed to annoy people.

The ranch was bordered on one side by the Guadalupe River, with a low bridge crossing the river just past the entry gate.  We stopped at the bridge
and the kids got out to check out the water.

“Are there snakes down there?” Oliver asked.

“Probably,” I told him.

“Are they as big as David Robinson?”

“Nah.  I doubt it.”

We threw rocks for 10 minutes, then drove up the long steep
caliche road that led to the house.  Felicia met us outside.  She was wearing a
white Mexican dress with colorful embroidery around the neck, sleeves, and
bottom of the dress, and Mexican huaraches on her feet.  Her hair color seemed
to have mellowed. 

My wife and her cousin hugged, then Felicia turned on my boys
and mauled them.   If Oliver had asked, I’d have given him permission to fight
her off, but neither of my sons seemed bothered by her over-zealous reception.

“Hi, Sam,” Felicia gushed.

“Hey, Felicia.”  I purposefully grabbed an armful of kid stuff
so she couldn’t get near me.  “Here you go,” I said, pushing the diaper bag and
a bunch of blankets at her.

“This is going to be great!” Felicia exclaimed.  “I’m so
excited.”

“Right.”

We piled into the little farm house, which consisted of six
rooms:  three bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room and a bathroom.  The place had
been built in the late 1800’s and it had 12-foot ceilings and hardwood floors,
and beautiful old hardware that was in immaculate condition.  It was like
stepping back in time.  There were no closets in the bedrooms, but each had an
antique wardrobe and almost all the furnishings were antique.  It was a great
place to come for a weekend getaway and I was thinking that when Felicia’s
great aunt died, I’d offer to buy the place from her.

I lost track of the number of trips I made to the car to unload,
but we finally got settled in, Maddie, me and Morgan in one room, and the boys
in the room across the hall.

Felicia had called the boys into the living room to check out a
litter of kittens and I could hear excited sounds coming from Oliver and Max. 
When they were properly distracted, Felicia took my arm and dragged me down the
short hall to a door that I assumed was a closet. 

“Come here, Maddie,” Fee said quietly, so as not to attract the
kids’ attention.

She opened the door and to my surprise, there were steps
leading down to a cellar.  It smelled dank and musty.  The stairs were at one
end of the cellar and were steep and narrow, turning to the right at a landing,
so that I couldn’t see how big the room was, or what was down there. I’d always
wanted a house with a cellar. 

“Cool.  What’s down there?” I asked.

“Come down,” Felicia said, and Maddie and I started to follow
her down.

I had to stoop so I wouldn’t hit my head on the ceiling for the
first couple of steps.  “Watch your head,” I told Maddie.  I got to the landing
of the stairs and could see that it was a small, one-room cellar with a window
at ground level that shed barely any light in the room at that hour.  I was
just getting ready to comment on the room when Fee flipped a light switch and
the scene before me came into view.  The room was tiny, but it took a couple of
beats to realize what I was witnessing.  My heart stopped cold.

“Jesus Christ, Felicia!  What have you done?”

There was a cot in the corner of the room and what appeared to
be an unconscious man tucked under the covers.  He was hooked up to an IV and I
couldn’t tell if it was the naked light bulb casting the ghostly pallor on the
man, or whether he was as ill as he appeared, but the guy looked all but
dead.   He had scruffy dark hair and an unkempt beard and mustache, like some
homeless person from under the bridge.

“It’s the Faker,” Felicia whispered, and even Maddie groaned.

“Oh my Gawd,” Maddie whispered back.  “How did you get him
here?”

I was too stunned to speak and I stood there stupidly, my head
reeling, as I contemplated just how deep the shit was that I was standing in. 
Maddie and Felicia had exchanged several phrases which I didn’t hear before my
tongue came back to me.

“What have you done?” I repeated, running my hand across my
forehead to sop up the sweat.

“I rescued him,” she said indignantly.

“What do you mean,
rescued
him?  You mean you kidnapped
him!”

“They were killing him at that place because he talked to me
and Maddie,” Felicia asserted.

“That’s complete paranoia.  This man’s condition has nothing
whatsoever to do with you.  Maybe he’s a psychotic killer and they drug him up
so he won’t murder his roommate.  Did you ever consider that?  Because it’s a
lot more plausible than thinking his condition has anything remotely to do with
you.”  I turned from Felicia to my wife.  “Your cousin’s completely delusional!”

My body temperature felt like it had shot up 100 degrees.  I
turned my wrath back to Felicia.  “You don’t even know who this guy is!  Niki
couldn’t come up with anything on the name we gave him.”

“I’ll find out when he wakes up,” Felicia said undeterred. 

“
If
he wakes up,” I shot back. The woman hadn’t listened
to a word I’d said. “Did you ever consider that he might not?  The guy could
die right here in your cellar and where would that leave you?”  I didn’t give
her a chance to answer.  “Kidnapping and
murder
, Felicia!  Jesus
Christ!”

“I think Samuel’s right, Fee,” Maddie said.  “This probably
wasn’t a very good idea.”

“Not a good idea? 
Not a good idea
?”  My voice was two
octaves higher than it should have been.  “This is the stupidest thing that
I’ve ever,
ever
, heard of anyone doing.  And now I’m an accessory to
kidnapping and you are too, Maddie.  I’m an attorney!  I’m an officer of the
court!  It’s my duty to report a crime like this, not stand by and be a party
to it.  Jesus Christ!”

Maddie took my hand but I jerked it back.  “Did you know about
this?” It was an ugly tone of voice, but I couldn’t help it.

She shook her head vigorously.  “I swear.”

“Wow!  What’s this room?” Oliver said from above.

I’d never seen Maddie move so quickly.  She was up the stairs
before Oliver could start to come down, and I followed quickly behind her.  I
shot Felicia a look but she wouldn’t hold my stare.  She looked like a defiant
child who refused to accept that what she had done was wrong.  We retreated
from the cellar and Felicia slid the lock closed on the door. 

“
Kathy Bates
,” I muttered under my breath.

“It’s going to be okay, Sam,” Felicia said.  “You’ll see.”

“There’s no way this will ever be okay, Felicia.  It’s just not
possible.  Don’t you think the hospital is going to have their suspicions about
who took the guy?”

“It’s all taken care of,” she asserted.

A thunder clap boomed and seconds later the heavens opened up. 
If  I’d been a religious man, I’d have sworn that The Almighty was exacting his
revenge.  Max came running down the hall with an orange kitten clinging to his
pant leg.

“Don’t like funder,” he whined.

I unhooked the kitten’s needle claws from my son’s pants and
picked up Max and hugged him.  I felt like the rug had been pulled out from
under me and that I was at risk of losing everything that was important to me.

“You’re quishing me,” Max said, squirming in my arms.

“Gosh, look how hard it’s raining,” Maddie said.  She was holding
Oliver and he had his arms wrapped around her neck for dear life.  Both of my
boys are wimps about thunder. 

We went out on the front porch to watch the storm.    The rain
was so heavy that a stream had formed below the house that wound its way down past
the hay barn and along a pasture fence.  No one mentioned the Faker.  We
watched the foreman running with a horse that had been out in the paddock when
the storm hit.  He was wearing an Australian Dry-as-a-Bone coat, but the
garment wasn’t living up to its name.  The man waved at us before he
disappeared into the barn.

My body was outside, but my mind was in the cellar. I was going
over things in my head.  Technically, I wasn’t in trouble yet.  All I had to do
was report Maddie’s cousin to the  authorities and I’d be in the clear.  I’d
remain a free man; I’d keep my law license; my life would still be mine.  The
choice was so clear that I had to wonder about my sanity that I was even
considering any other option.  The  why of it was what I found most disturbing: 
Why was I concerned about the consequences to Felicia Armstrong when she had
been nothing but a pain in the ass the vast majority of the time I’d known
her?  The fact that she was family was only part of it.  Thinking it through, I
knew what it was.  If Felicia was arrested for kidnapping, or God forbid
something worse, I’d end up having to represent her.  Having her as a client in
a civil trial was bad enough; the thought of representing her in a criminal
matter was . . . depressing.  I didn’t even want to think about it.