Hostile Witness (28 page)

They’ll take you away.

Hannah buttoned her coat as she ran through the house and opened the door to the outside. The Volkswagen was there, still booted. The old Mercedes was in the garage. Hannah ran for the kitchen and rummaged through the drawer where they kept extra keys. Nothing. She pulled the drawer further out to search in the back but she pulled too far and the drawer fell with a clatter to the floor.

Jumping back, Hannah cursed and ignored the mess. If the key to the Mercedes was there she didn’t have time to look. She needed to figure this out and there was only one place she could go.

Seconds later Hannah was running through the house, past Fritz’s paintings, out the front door, and past the statue. She burst out of the thorn gate and didn’t bother to close it. Hannah ran all the way to the highway. The sound of the ocean drove her on. The sound of cars pulled her forward.  Someone would stop for her. They had to. She would make them. Someone needed to get her where she was going before she did something she shouldn’t do.

Linda Rayburn stood naked at the long windows that overlooked the grounds of the Palisades house.  One arm was crossed under her heavy breasts, the other was crooked, a cigarette held between her fingers. Thoughtlessly she brought the cigarette to her lips, pulling the smoke deep into her lungs, holding it there before letting it seep out through her lips.

Behind her Kip slept in the big bed, curled like a child into a tight ball, one hand under his cheek, exhausted from his meltdown.   In front of her, Linda could see the west wing of the house.  The charred wood had been removed, new wood rose in its place, framing the room just as it had been before the fire. The yellow crime scene streamers were long gone. The little stone boy peed into the fountain. The gardens were manicured.  The stars twinkled. The Palisades slept and Linda Rayburn wanted to lay her head down on her pillow and do the same, but there were too many things to think about.

Hannah. Number one. Always Hannah. That had been an ugly scene. Kip had been wrong to kick her, Linda wrong to leave her, but what was done was done. Linda should feel guilty for following Kip, but she didn’t. A genetic flaw. Her perpetual failing. She wouldn’t apologize for it even to herself. You worked with what you had, you did what you could, and you made choices based on need.  Kip needed Linda more than Hannah did, and Linda needed Kip.  Hannah was strong and always had been.  She would survive the night. Linda wasn’t sure Kip would have if he’d been left alone.

Josie. She was in the mental mix. Funny how, in the dark, Linda could see so clearly. Her path had crossed Josie’s so long ago and only for a short time. Yet it was as if Josie had been with her every damn day of her life since college, looking over her shoulder, passing judgment.  She put her back against the wall and watched the cigarette smoke wend its way toward the ceiling. She admitted it was all in her mind - this thing with Josie. That sense of competition, of being not quite as good as Josie Baylor-Bates.  Or at least it had been.  Now it was real. There was a tug of war for Hannah’s future, and that’s not what Linda had anticipated at all when she sought Josie out. This was supposed to be a win-win situation, but Linda was losing.

The cigarette came to her lips. The smoke filled her lungs.

No, this wasn’t what she had anticipated at all.

Her eyes roamed the room. A room more beautiful than any she could have imagined in all of her years before she met Kip.  She let her gaze rest on her husband.

Kip. Kip.  Linda would like to think that she loved him, but the bottom line was she
didn’t know how to do that. He made her the center of his universe, which was better than Linda had ever had, so she was grateful. He’d had it tough with Fritz. Linda understood.  She was sympathetic. She even liked Kip because he didn’t demand a whole lot.  But love him?  No.  She was broken somewhere inside. She couldn’t love like other people. But for Kip she came close. For Hannah she came even closer. For herself?

Well. . . .

Linda stubbed out her cigarette and crawled into bed with her husband. He uncurled himself. She put her arms around him and lay with her face against his back. She could have done worse. She had done worse than Kip Rayburn. In the end, it was really Hannah, Linda worried about. Poor, sad, sick, dangerous Hannah. Only Linda knew how dangerous Hannah could be, and it scared her to death.

30

“405 North is packed and the transition to the 10 toward downtown is backing up.   Rush hour has started early. Expect more delays than divorce court.”-  KFWB traffic report

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Ms. Bates. The freeways get worse everyday.”

Josie ended her call to Archer. He was headed to Malibu just as Ian Frank walked into his office.  He didn’t waste a lot of time on the niceties, but wasn’t one to disregard them either. He was pleasant, focused, and comfortable in his domain. And a nice domain it was.

This man, worth millions, lived his professional life in a room that, at first glance, was less than impressive. It was the second glance that did the trick.  The desk was simple with clean lines, as was the chair, but the wood quality and leather grade was exquisite.  Instead of the artwork and honors Rayburn favored, Frank’s walls were noticeably bare save for his Harvard Law School diploma and that was hung on a slice of wall near the door as if, once earned, it was of little consequence. Large plants in full foliage brightened the corners. Floor to ceiling windows afforded a spectacular view of the Hollywood hills behind Ian Frank.  At Josie’s back the view was equally rich. The eye bumped over the stair-steps of the downtown skyline before skimming over the cities that paved the way to the coastline.  On a clear summer day Ian Frank could see the ocean but Josie doubted he was ever tempted to play hooky. There was a bit of the farmer in him; he looked up to check the way the wind blew. From his greeting Josie imagined she was just a breeze in Ian Frank’s world.

“So what can I do for you?”

“I want to talk about Fritz Rayburn,” Josie said, telling him something he already knew.

“What can I tell you?  I didn’t much care about Fritz’s personal life while he was alive, and I don’t much care about it now.”

“Don’t you think you should, Mr. Frank?” Josie asked.

“And why should I, Ms. Bates?” Ian Frank seemed amused.

“Because a law firm is reliant on its goodwill, and the firestorm surrounding the Rayburns could affect that. Telling me about them might keep damage to a minimum.”

Ian laughed. He had a wonderful face, a beautiful head of dark gray hair. Trim and handsome, he was a man that would set widows and divorcees scheming.

“Fritz Rayburn’s interest in this firm was put into a trust when he took the bench.  He wasn’t a practicing partner. Whatever you’re digging up may impact your client, but the goodwill on my balance sheet is going to be worth exactly what it was worth yesterday, or the day before.”

“You seem to be the only one who isn’t concerned about the impact of Fritz Rayburn’s habits.  The governor is worried.  The family is worried.  The DA is worried,” Josie pointed out.

“The governor has reason to worry. Fritz was his prized appointee. No one will believe that Fritz’s shortcomings weren’t discovered in a background check. So, if Fritz was a bit off, and the governor’s office covered up, that will be a public relations nightmare. You can’t put the horse back in the barn, you know. ” Ian shook his head with certainty. “As to Kip, he’ll be disappointed and embarrassed when the appointment doesn’t go through, but he’ll still be a partner in this firm. Money soothes a great many hurts. But all that aside, gossip or fact, none of this affects me.”

“Your clients might not feel the same way.” Josie pointed at him as if he kept those precious people nestled in his breast pocket.

“Hell, half my clients are worried about their own skeletons, Ms. Bates.  In fact…”

He was interrupted when the door opened.  Standing just outside of Josie’s line of sight was a woman who was dutifully giving Ian Frank a reason to curtail this meeting.

“John Blosser is on his way,” she said with all the interest of someone who had done this a thousand times over the course of as many days.

“Thanks, May.  Ms. Bates and I will be wrapping up soon.” Ian Frank gave Josie his full attention and a ridiculously patronizing look that was meant to hurry her on. She, in turn, didn’t give him an inch.

“Mr. Frank, I’m not intimidated by you, and I am not impressed by your clinical analysis of Fritz Rayburn’s conduct. I used to live in a place like this. I used to sit in a chair just like yours. I know, in these surroundings, that nothing is sacred – not even the idea that business exists in a vacuum. I am living proof that it doesn’t.”

“I know your history, Ms. Bates, but this is very different. We deal in numbers, in mergers, in huge estates, and corporate entities,” Ian Frank countered easily. “That kind of business doesn’t titillate the public interest.

“Unless someone tells the tale correctly and I can tell it in a way that will make people sit up and take notice.  Do you think the mothers and fathers in California would take kindly to knowing that the man who was legal counsel to Comfy Toys also terrorized young girls?  Do you think the very vocal black coalition in this state is going to turn the other cheek when they find out that Rayburn’s taste ran to women of color? ”

“And I would be curious to see who the mothers and fathers of California have more loathing for: an attorney who uses her power to isolate a young woman from her mother or an old, dead man who hasn’t been affiliated with this firm for over seven years.  And, if Kip Rayburn were to admit his father was overzealous in his discipline, there would be a great deal of sympathy for him, don’t you think?  Oh, Ms. Bates, we can all spin and in the end, when all is said and done, neither of us will win but I’ll come out on top.  I know my clients. Their attention span is even shorter than mine.”

Josie sat forward in her chair, too. She tried another tack; one that she had no doubt would fail, but, when desperate, desperate measures are called for.

 “Then tell me about Fritz Rayburn and his son because you’re a good man, Mr. Frank. Tell me because it might help Hannah Sheraton.”

 A flicker of interest ran across Ian Frank’s face. For the first time he was truly engaged in the conversation.

“It isn’t as though I don’t have sympathy for your client, Ms. Bates. My sister has a daughter that girl’s age. It’s hard to know what’s true and what isn’t even when it is your own child, so I will be truthful.  I don’t know anything for sure that will help you. If I don’t know it to be fact, then it doesn’t exist and that’s really all there is to it. I give you credit for sticking your neck out but, then, you don’t have all that much to lose, do you?  I’m not in the same position.”

Josie jumped on the opening. It wasn’t more than a hairline crack in his demeanor but it was enough to tell her that he had a conscience.

“You’re right. I don’t have anything to lose so that means I can fight tooth and nail. Just tell me what you suspect. Give me access to your personnel files. Let me talk to the women in this firm. Tell me if you know anything about the fight between Fritz and Kip Rayburn.  All I need is your permission.  I’ll be discreet. All you have to do is give me the sword. I’ll slay the dragon and you keep the castle.”

Ian Frank put his elbows on top of his well-kept desk and clasped his hands. He let them fall back against his lips once and then he put them in front of him.  He didn’t think longer than a second.

“There isn’t a businessman on this earth who would believe what you just said. No. I won’t open this firm up to you. Though I have a great deal of faith in the practical mindset of our clients, I won’t help you tip the balance.  Now, I know you’re a fine attorney, but I’m probably better. If you try to get a court order to go into my records, I will stop you.” Ian opened his hands as if in apology. “Eventually you may get what you want but I’ll keep you tied up until this trial is over. I’ll protect what’s mine and that, as they say, is that.”

“I thought this firm belonged to Kip now, too,” Josie reminded him.

“You think he’s going to give you permission to go after his father on his own turf?” Ian laughed.

“No, I was just curious to find out if he understood he’d be second fiddle around here. That you’re the one who will be making all the big decisions.”

“That’s exactly how it is, Ms. Bates, and I don’t think Kip will mind. I’ve done well at the helm of this firm. I will continue to do my job well and make him rich. I will support him if he is on the bench. I have a great deal of respect for Kip.”

“Did Justice Rayburn have the same respect for his son?”

“I have no idea,” Ian laughed. “Fritz and I weren’t friends. We were business partners. We made business decisions.”

That was it. The moment Josie was waiting for. Ian Frank was lying. Josie had cross examined too many witnesses, completed too many interviews, represented too many defendants not to know that lies weren’t always dotted with beads of sweat and didn’t always quiver with the telling.  Sometimes lies came as they did with Ian Frank; behind an expression so controlled it was unnatural. He looked straight at her. There was just the hint of a smile on his lips. It had been there before she asked the question and it remained after. He didn’t react to the ridiculousness of the query by waving it off or throwing himself back in the chair as if she was wasting too much of his time.

“You liar. A law partnership is closer than most marriages. You know everything.”  Josie put her hand on the top of his desk; she made sure she didn’t look away. “You’re not concerned about the emotional value of Fritz Rayburn’s legacy so what’s the deal you made? Was Kip going to be an active member of the firm? Was he just going to collect the partner’s share? There had to be documents that were signed, discussions held, decisions made. Were you and Fritz on the opposite sides of the fence when it came to good old Kip?”

Ian Frank’s eyes clouded. He was wary, on his guard. Sexual aberrations were something to pass off but now Josie was treading on sacred ground – the firm’s.

“Fritz didn’t know he was going to die, Ms. Bates, so passing on his interest in the firm wasn’t exactly top of mind.”

“Fritz Rayburn was a lawyer, Mr. Frank, and so are you,” Josie drawled. “Lawyers don’t leave anything to chance where their firms are concerned. Was Kip the beloved son, trusted with the legacy over your objections? Was he welcomed by you but Fritz wanted him controlled? What was the deal? You might as well tell me because I swear I am going to kick up a ruckus until I find out.”

“Mr. Frank?”

Ian Frank’s eyes snapped to the doorway. May was back.

“Yes, what is it?”

The woman’s expression changed from bland to startled. It was tough to be snapped at when you were just following orders.

“Mr. Blosser is on his way up.”

Ian Frank dismissed her by looking back at Josie. She pressed her case. 

“I know that Kip and Fritz had a huge argument just before he died. I want to know if it was about business. I know that you. . .”

Ian Frank stood up abruptly. He put out his hand and said:

“This interview is over, Ms. Bates. I have an appointment.”

Josie hesitated. She stood up too but ignored the hand he held out to her.

“I’ll be calling you to court, Mr. Frank, so clear your calendar.”

Ian Frank lowered his outstretched arm. He was not insulted, and he wasn’t stupid enough to dismiss the message.

“That is your prerogative, Ms. Bates. In fact, if time permits, I might even show up. It could be fun to see what would happen between us in a courtroom.”

“I assume you wouldn’t ignore a subpoena?” Josie raised a brow.

“I’ve always found sympathetic consideration given to the schedules of busy attorneys. Even the court knows its only business at the end of the day,” Ian reminded her.

“No, Mr. Frank, at the end of this day we’re talking about a young girl’s life and I’ll bet the system will see it my way. If I want you on that stand, that is where you’ll be.”

Josie made her statement and her exit. Ian Frank let her go without another word. By the time she made it to the elevator he was dictating a memo. When the elevator came, Josie had to step back for a man who was in a hurry. The receptionist greeted him as Mr. Blosser, the man Ian Frank was waiting for. In the minutes it took the elevator to whisk Josie down fifty-four floors Ian Frank and his client had probably slapped one another on the back a few times and were sitting down to business.  Ian Frank probably hadn’t given Josie Baylor-Bates another thought, but someone else had.