Hit and Run (21 page)

“I’m Liz.” She offered a handshake and her fingers were loaded with silver rings. “Mia’s on her way.”

“Thanks for meeting me.”

She nodded at the glimmering expanse of ocean. “Impressive isn’t it?”

“Very.” Although “impressive” wasn’t the word Krista would have picked to describe the view. It seemed to imply that office’s occupant deserved credit for it.

“Ms. Hart, I presume?” A woman strode into what was obviously her office. She dumped a Mark Cross attaché case on the desk, plunked down a Starbucks cup, and offered a handshake. “I’m Mia Vandall.”

Krista couldn’t help thinking she looked the polar opposite of her colleague in her tailored red suit and stylish black pumps. Including the briefcase her entire outfit probably cost as much as Krista’s car.

She gave Krista a quick once-over as they settled into chairs. “So how can we help you? I understand you’re working on Rob’s defense?”

“I’m new on the case, just getting up to speed.” Krista smiled, happy to let this woman be the alpha since she so obviously was. “Drake Walker wanted me to double-check a few things before the trial starts up. I just have a couple questions to ask.”

“Ask away.” She picked up her venti coffee.

“First off, I understand Holland was working on a big case at the time of his wife’s death.”

Mia nodded. “The Capstone lawsuit.”

Krista tugged notebook from her bag. “And that’s a brake company?”

“Brake parts,” Liz said. “They manufacture hoses for hydraulic systems.”

“I hear it was an important case?”

“Huge,” Mia confirmed. “Even without our big hitter we won a forty-million-dollar verdict.”

Krista detected the pride in her voice, and something else, too. Resentment?

“By big hitter I assume you mean Holland?” Krista asked.

“You guessed it.”

Definitely resentment.

She turned to Liz. “And I understand that case involved a lot of long hours leading up to the trial.”

“We were working like dogs,” Liz said. “Rob, Mia, Terrence, and David. We barely left the office for weeks.”

“What about Saturday, August twenty-fourth? Had you all been in the office then?”

“We had a working session in the morning.” Mia sighed. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been over all this. Doesn’t Walker have this in his files?”

Krista smiled. “I’m just checking the timeline. He wants to get every detail nailed down.”

“We wrapped up by two.” Liz sipped from a bottle of mineral water and set it on Mia’s desk. “The plan was to be in around three the next day for some last-minute preparation, but Holland never showed. It wasn’t till later that day that we learned—”

“We got a call at four,” Mia interrupted. “Terrence’s wife called after she saw it on the news and by that time TV crews had already staked out the house, filming the ME’s people.” She shuddered. “Vultures.”

“Let’s go back to the day before,” Krista said. “After you wrapped up around two, did anyone on the team see Holland again? Maybe to grab a beer or swing by his house and drop off a file or something?”

Liz shook her head. “None of us did.”

“What about a phone call or a text message?” Krista persisted. She was looking for anything at all that might corroborate Holland’s story that he’d been home at the time of the murder.

“No calls, no texts,” Mia said. “Not from anyone.”

Of course police had looked into all this already. Same for Walker and R.J. According to the paperwork, Holland’s cell phone showed no calls on the night of the murder.

“What about an alternate phone, maybe?” Krista asked. “Do either of you have another number for Holland?”

Liz tipped her head to the side. “I don’t think so, but—” She pulled a phone from her pocket and started scrolling through her contacts. “I just have one.” She rattled off a number and Krista checked her notes.

“That’s the only one I have, too,” Mia said.

“Okay, let’s shift to his personal life. I understand he met Brittany here at the law firm.”

“He did?” Liz cast a startled look at Mia.

“This was before you joined,” Mia told her. “Brittany did temp work one summer.” She looked at Krista. “Three of the admins were on maternity leave at once, so we were short-handed. The temp agency sent Brittany, and of course Rob noticed her right away. She was gorgeous. And she was fresh meat, too.”

Liz cringed.

“Sorry. Poor choice of words.” Mia rolled her eyes. “But he’s like that. A skirt chaser. And, really, no one was surprised when he started dating her, even though she was young enough to be his daughter. I mean, she was
stunning
. Probably the prettiest girl we ever had working here, I’d say.”

Krista looked at Liz, who shrugged.

“I never laid eyes on her,” Liz said, “but I hear she was beautiful.”

“Their affair wasn’t that shocking,” Mia continued, “but when they got engaged?
That
was a surprise. Everyone figured he was just screwing her.”

“Jeez, Mia.”

She looked at Liz. “Well, it’s true.”

“What about their separation?” Krista asked.

Mia leaned back in her chair. “What about it?”

“How widely known was it in the office that Holland’s wife had moved out?”

“
We
didn’t even know,” Liz said. “And we worked with him every day.”

“He’s not the kind of man who’d talk about it,” Mia said. “I imagine he was embarrassed she’d walked out on him and probably thought he could change her mind.”

Krista jotted a note in her book. Brittany had moved into her new home only three months before her murder. If her new location wasn’t widely known, that suggested the killer might be someone close to her.

On the other hand, it could have been some random stranger who’d seen her somewhere and followed her home. Maybe in a white Avalanche.

“No one really knew them all that well,” Mia said. “As a couple, I mean. As soon as they got engaged, Brittany quit work. Ready to be a yoga mama.”

She said it with disdain.

“They didn’t have children,” Krista pointed out.

“You know what I mean. Pilates, mani-pedis, three-martini lunches. They’re pampered beyond belief. We could make a reality show:
The Real Housewives of Burke, Bumble, and Holland!
”

Krista darted a look at Liz, who smiled wanly.

“Any-
hoo
.” Mia checked her watch. “Was there anything else you needed? I have a conference call in ten.”

“That about covers it.” Krista flipped her notebook shut and dug out some business cards. “If you think of anything else, call me.”

Mia read the card with a raised eyebrow. “I thought you said you worked for Drake Walker?”

“I’m an independent contractor.”

Liz led her out and they passed more beautiful specimens of humanity along the way. Krista decided the place seemed more like a modeling agency than a law firm.

Liz accompanied her all the way to the elevator and pressed the call button.

“Don’t mind Mia,” she said.

Krista just looked at her.

“She and her husband split recently. Seventeen years of marriage, three kids, and he runs off with his paralegal.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, she’s a little bitter. And now she’s being hauled into court to be a character witness for a man she can’t stand.”

Krista remembered Mia’s name on the witness list. “Why didn’t she say no?”

“It’s not that simple. Drake Walker holds a lot of puppet strings around here, especially in legal circles. He needs someone credible and unflappable on the witness stand and he needs it to be a woman.” She waved her hands dramatically. “Part of his Grand Illusion: Rob Holland, Loving Husband.”

Krista rode down the elevator thinking about money and marriages and Liz Brown’s parting words. Krista knew Liz was right about Drake Walker and his Grand Illusion. And Krista wondered if she was part of that illusion, too.

Krista spent the next few hours on Meadowlark knocking on doors and sweltering in her car, but her surveillance netted no new witnesses. She got back in her car and made her way toward the office, then thought better of it and stopped at diner down the street. She didn’t want to deal with phone messages. She got a corner booth and spread out her laptop. Halfway through a chocolate milkshake and a double-bacon BLT, a shadow fell over her plate.

“Hey, Ace.” R.J. grinned down at her. “Looks like you’re hiding out.”

“I’m working.”

He slid in beside her and she felt a warm flutter in her stomach. He smelled good.

“Just went by your office,” he said. “Mr. Goldstein called while I was there. How’s the pet detective gig going? Maybe I should expand my operation.”

She tamped down her annoyance. “Is there something you need?”

“Just checking in.” He grabbed a French fry. “Tell me how the case is coming.”

“I’m analyzing the timeline,” she said patiently. “I’m focused on the weekend of the murder, Friday to Sunday.”

“Find anything interesting?”

“According to the file, on the day of the murder Holland left his office and stopped at Whole Foods near his house around two-forty.”

“Tough life of a bachelor. Poor man was reduced to buying his own groceries.”

“Which consisted tonic and limes to go along with the two handles of gin he’d bought the day before,” she said. “Looks to me like your client may have a drinking problem.”

“He may.” R.J. nodded. “And I know where you’re going with this, but don’t bother. We already considered the too-blitzed-to-commit-homicide scenario and Walker rejected it.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of checking out local watering holes.”

“If he went out for a drink that night, why wouldn’t he say so? It’s not like he’s a heroin addict.” He stole another fry and she pulled her plate away.

“Alcoholics sometimes forget things when they’re on a drinking binge.”

“You’re right, but we already checked it out. He didn’t hit any of his favorite hangouts that night, or even that weekend. His credit card activity reflects that.”

Krista sighed. “Well, he picked a hell of a weekend to become an introvert. What about email? If he pulled mail even once from his house that night it would help bolster his alibi.”

“It’s all in the file.” R.J. leaned closer. “Which I’m guessing you haven’t finished reading yet.”

“Not yet.”

“But you cashed my check.”

“To make sure it didn’t bounce.”

He smiled and let it go. “How about the law firm? Anything new there?”

“How’d you know I went by the law firm?” Was he tracking her movements now, too? She wouldn’t put anything past him.

“Deirdre’s a friend of mine,” he said. At her blank look, he elaborated. “You know, the receptionist? She knows everyone and she keeps me in the loop on all things Holland-related.”

“Very thoughtful of her. Unfortunately, I didn’t get much at the firm. Except that the defense team has slim pickings when it comes to character witnesses. Holland’s not real popular with the women he works with.”

“Depends who you ask.” R.J. grabbed her milkshake and took a slurp. “They tend to fall into two camps—those he’s slept with and those he plans to sleep with, but hasn’t gotten around to yet.”

Krista sighed. She was working for a true pig on this one.

The waitress stopped by and smiled at R.J. “Get you anything?”

“Just a check,” he said. “And she’s finished with that.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re done, trust me.”

The waitress dropped off the check and cleared the plate as R.J. scooted from the booth.

“Come on,” he said. “Time for a little field trip.”

Krista packed up her computer and took out some money.

“Don’t bother.” He pulled out his wallet. “I’m sure you planned to bill me anyway.”

~ ~ ~

They took R.J.’s car. He checked the traffic report on his phone and then headed for the 405.

“Wherever we’re going I hope it’s close.”

“It’s not,” he told her, then buzzed down the windows—as if a gust of smog-laden air would distract her from the time. It was nearly four and traffic was slowing.

“We’ve got an appointment with someone you need to meet,” R.J. told her. “He’s on faculty at UCLA. He’s one of Walker’s favorite experts, and we’re hoping he can help us with the alibi. How much of the paperwork have you gotten through?”

“About half. I got through the police file and the statements from his co-workers at the law firm. And now that you bring it up, why is Walker so late in the game getting the alibi together? I’d think that would have been first on his list when he started crafting Holland’s defense.”

“It was.”

She looked at him, but his eyes were hidden behind designer shades.

“We had a credible eyewitness who corroborated everything Holland said about being home that night working.”

“Who?”

“Inez Romero, his longtime housekeeper.” R.J. cut around a pickup truck and swerved into the left lane. “She’d been at the house that morning cleaning and brought her twelve-year-old daughter with her. Kid left her cell phone at the house, so Inez stopped by that night to pick it up. She parked in the driveway, entered through the back door, and saw Holland sitting at his dining room table with files spread out around him. The Dodgers game was on in the next room.”

“Sounds convincing.”

“That’s right,” R.J. said. “And the detail about the ball game—that helps us because it started it at seven-ten, in the middle of the five to nine P.M. time-of-death window provided by the ME.”

“Okay, so what happened?” she asked.

“Housekeeper came down with a case of the SPINS.”

“The SPINS.”

“Trial attorney slang—Sudden Problems with the INS. Basically she got spooked and made a run for it.”

Krista gaped at him. “Are you seriously suggesting the prosecutor sicced Immigration on this woman to prevent her from testifying?”

“He’s too smart for that. I’m suggesting someone got to her and convinced her it could happen. Whether the INS actually had anything to do with it doesn’t matter—she packed up her family and took off.” R.J. shook his head. “Walker didn’t see it coming, either. Her papers are in order—we checked. Turns out, her husband’s aren’t, though, so that was her Achilles’ heel.”