Nothing But the Truth (7 page)

“Brett, are you dreaming about what you’re going to buy me for Christmas with all the money Ms. Jarvis and her many ambulance companies are going to funnel into the firm?” Tony slid into the seat across from her desk. He waved a hand in the air as if to waken her from her trance.

Brett knew she did well in spite of herself. Tony managed the purse strings of her firm with a tight grip. If it weren’t for him, she would be both single and destitute. Brett had stolen Tony from the federal public defender’s office where he had worked as a paralegal for a number of years. She recognized that his strong work ethic and ability to manage a daunting caseload would translate into the kind of manager she needed for her business. She had never made a better decision. Tony was motivated not only by his own desire for success, but by the fact he had a wife and two teenagers relying on him for support. She often wondered how he made a home life work since he spent so much time invested in the success of her firm. Why was everyone else able to achieve a perfect blend of personal and professional life?

“You know, Tony, I don’t thank you enough for taking such good care of me.”

“No sentimentality, Logan. I’m just doing my job, and I do it out of a strong sense of self-interest.”

“Whatever. I swear I will dedicate the next week to work on the Jarvis case. I’m going to see my folks this weekend. I’ll get a referral from Mom for a new forensic accountant. I knew more about debits and credits than that last bozo we consulted. Ms. Jarvis wants to go full guns on a defense, so we’ll want also want a billing consultant. Frankly, I’m sick of the government using their hazy Medicare regs to send honest-minded, hard-working business people to prison.”

“Atta girl. I’ll make some calls and we’ll get started on Monday.” He stood. “It’s four o’clock. Let’s shut down for the day. You’ll need a weekend to relax if you’re going to hit the ground running next week.”

Brett agreed. She reached over to shut off her computer but paused to open Outlook one last time. No word from the Phillips family. Oh well, she would have to find a way to make Medicare billing seem juicy since she didn’t seem destined to be working on a new murder case anytime soon.

Ryan swore she would swallow a bottle of pills before she would ever resign herself to living in a place like the one looming before her. She forced herself to open the creaky front door. The assault on her senses nearly sent her running. Sour, musty odors gagged her and the muted color of the dingy carpet and out-of-date wallpaper combined to create a dull, dusty impression. The effect was like looking through a haze. She imagined that was how the residents of Pine Grove Nursing Home saw the world every day.

“Hello, Ms. Foster. Your aunt will be so happy to see you.”

Ryan offered a forced smile. She didn’t agree. Eunice Foster didn’t do happy, and she didn’t tolerate happy in others. And that, Ryan thought, is why this godforsaken place is perfect for her. Only a strong sense of duty forced Ryan to make these regular Saturday visits. Besides, Eunice was the only family she had. Leonard would be proud of her fostering that connection in the months running up to the election.

Many of the rooms she passed were decorated with various knickknacks, designed to minimize the institutional feel. Eunice’s room was stark in comparison. Ryan bet her aunt reveled in the institutional feel. It was orderly. It was consistent. It was impersonal. It fit Eunice to a tee.

When she arrived at the door, she saw her aunt sitting in a stiff-backed chair, a Bible resting open in her lap.

“Hello, Aunt Eunice.” A slight nod was Ryan’s only hint her presence was acknowledged. At least she was consistent. Ryan pulled up a chair and took a modicum of pleasure at the flick of annoyance in her aunt’s eyes. “How was your week?”

Eunice made a show of closing the Bible and setting it on the small table beside her bed. Every tiny motion was designed to show Ryan her visit was an intrusion. Ryan knew she would never win. If she didn’t show up every Saturday, at exactly the same time, her aunt would be angry, and Ryan would never find forgiveness.

These visits were painful, but Ryan didn’t dare cut them short. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she did, but irrational childhood fears snagged her in their grasp. She and her parents hadn’t reconciled before they died. Although her aunt didn’t really know her at all, without her, she was all alone. An hour of painful silence in this room was worth the comfort of knowing she wasn’t completely on her own.

*

“Hey, Brett, can you pick Lori up from work and bring her to Mom and Dad’s? I had to drop her off this morning, and I’m stuck at Stacy’s volleyball tournament. If they keep winning, I’m never going to get out of here.”

Brett laughed. Despite his pretend tone of annoyance, she knew her brother John was in heaven. His oldest daughter Stacy was the star setter on the Highland Park High School volleyball team. John was her biggest fan. “Sure, what time? And you and Stacy better show up at the house eventually, or Mom will bring dinner to the sidelines.”

“We’ll be there, but we might be a little worn out. We’ve been here since the crack of dawn. Lori should be done by five. She brought a change of clothes, so you gals can head straight over. We’ll be there as soon as we kick everyone else’s a—I mean butt.”

Brett hung up the phone and glanced at the clock. Four o’clock. Lori Logan, her sister-in-law, was the director of nursing at Pine Grove Nursing Home. Brett had just enough time to change before heading across town to pick her up.

When she arrived, Lori met her at the front desk. “John said you were my taxi for the evening. Here you are, right on time.”

Brett read from Lori’s harried expression and urgent tone that right on time wasn’t necessarily helpful. “Need a few minutes?”

“More like half an hour. I have a little issue. Wanna head on without me?”

“Not a chance. I love my parents, but I don’t need to brave a round of defending my chosen occupation all on my own.” Lori’s career choice drew even more skepticism than her own, and she and Lori had formed a strong alliance.

“Fair enough. There’s a Starbucks next door. Grab a jolt of caffeinated courage. I’ll meet you over there in thirty.”

Brett nodded. As she turned away, she spotted a familiar face across the nursing home lobby. She grabbed Lori’s arm and subtlety pointed. “Do you know her?”

“Sure. That’s Ryan Foster. Her aunt’s a resident. She’s here every Saturday, like clockwork.” Lori cocked her head, her puzzled expression melting into a knowing smile. “She’s beautiful. Want me to introduce you?”

Brett shuddered. “No thanks. Ms. Foster and I have met. Over the course of a few short moments, we managed to become bitter enemies.”

“Too bad. Beneath her staid exterior, I imagine she’s a wildcat. Look at how buttoned up she is. All that control has to be holding something at bay.”

“Lori dear, your imagination has gotten the best of you. Did you sneak in my house and raid my lesbian fiction collection? Now you’re romanticizing visitors to the nursing home.”

“Ryan Foster has been here every Saturday afternoon for the last three years, without fail. No one, I mean no one, is that consistent. Consistency equals a need for control. Anyone who needs that much control has a wild side they’re working hard to cover up. Mark my words.”

“You’re crazy. I’m going to get coffee. You get back to work. Meet me at Starbucks when you’re done.” Brett shook her head as she walked back toward the doors. Lori didn’t have a clue about Ryan Foster. She was probably a control freak because she couldn’t stand to think of a world with chaos in it. She was the embodiment of law and order, unable to see shades of gray in her black-and-white existence. Even as she felt disdain, Brett’s curiosity was sparked. Ryan must have some redeeming qualities if she was so dedicated to a family member as to make regular visitation part of her routine. She must love her aunt very much.

“Excuse me.”

Brett looked up then quickly down again. The door handle did seem strangely soft, perhaps because she was grasping Ryan’s hand and not the handle itself.
Oh, shit.
“I’m sorry; I was lost in thought and didn’t see you standing there.”
Well, not right there. Actually, I was thinking about you, but not that way.
Brett’s prior knowledge of Ryan’s presence did nothing to dispel her surprise at literally running into her while leaving. She judged by Ryan’s expression that the surprise was mutual.

“I didn’t see you either.” Surprise was replaced by something else, but Brett couldn’t place it.

“Odd, isn’t it? Us running into each other here?” Brett didn’t know why, but she felt compelled to strike up a conversation.

Ryan arched her eyebrows. “What are you doing here?”

“Giving my sister-in-law a lift. She works here.” Brett suddenly had a crazy idea. She tried to stop herself from saying it out loud, but she heard her voice before she could squelch it. “She’s running a bit late. If you don’t have somewhere you need to be, why don’t you join me for coffee?”

Ryan glanced at her watch as if buying time to make an excuse. Although she still considered the idea hare-brained, Brett pushed the point. “Come on, thirty minutes tops. We got off on the wrong foot. Let me make it up to you with a latte.”

Ryan offered a hint of a smile and gestured to Brett to lead the way. Moments later, they were settled at a tiny table in the Starbucks next to Pine Grove. The contents of the paper cups in front of them symbolized the stark differences between them. Brett sipped from her four-pump mocha topped with double whip, while Ryan drank a cup of regular drip coffee. Black.

Ryan wished she had ordered decaf. One cup of regular coffee first thing in the morning was all the caffeine she usually allowed herself. Somehow the idea of ordering a cup of decaf in front of Brett Logan made her feel like a wimp, so she capitulated. Why she cared what Brett thought, and why she was even here was a mystery.

“So do you have a relative at Pine Grove?”

“What makes you ask?”

“Idle conversation.” Brett raised her cup. “You know, what people have over coffee? Besides, that would explain why you were there this afternoon.”

Ryan started to tell Brett her reasons for being at Pine Grove were none of Brett’s business, but an inner voice reasoned Brett wasn’t necessarily being invasive with her questions. Ryan knew she sucked at idle chitchat. She also knew she needed to remedy her deficiency if she planned to enter the political arena. Besides, Brett’s friendly manner made her want to open up. At least a little bit.

Only one way to get started. Disclose a little something.
“My aunt is a resident. Has been for a few years. I see her on Saturdays.” Ryan sighed. She had only offered three bits of information, but she felt worn out from the effort.

“Every Saturday? Sweet of you to visit so regularly.”

Ryan was puzzled by Brett’s assumption. She didn’t consider her regular visits optional. Or sweet. She did what was expected. Nothing less. “She’s my aunt.”

Brett nodded and waited, as if Ryan’s statement was just the beginning. Ryan took the opportunity to change the subject back to more familiar territory. “How long have you been in private practice?”

If Brett was puzzled by the change in topic, she didn’t show it. “About six years. I worked as a public defender for Tarrant County and then the Feds before I opened my own shop. I definitely prefer working for myself. I started out taking a lot of court-appointed work. Guess that’s what I was used to. Wound up handling more than my fair share of capital cases. Had to learn how to market to get more retained cases. Most of my cases are full fee now. About fifty percent federal and the other half in Dallas and surrounding counties. I still do court-appointed work, but mostly out of a sense of obligation. Plus some of the most interesting cases have defendants who can’t afford counsel.” Brett abruptly stopped talking and took a long sip of coffee.

Ryan didn’t even remember her initial question. When she asked it, she had had no idea it would elicit such a detailed response. While she enjoyed learning more about Brett, Ryan wondered, with a sense of dread, if Brett expected her to share a similarly long tale of her career escalation. She snuck a look at her watch. Only ten minutes had passed since they had entered the coffee shop. She looked up to find Brett had caught her checking the time. Ryan wished she could take back her action. Surprisingly, she didn’t mind being here with Brett. She found Brett extremely attractive and personable. Ryan may not ever agree with her in the professional arena, but on a personal level, she enjoyed her affability and warmth. Ryan had many acquaintances, but if someone asked her to name a true friend, she wouldn’t have a name to give.

“You’ll come home immediately after school. Everyday. Don’t think you can dally. I know what time classes let out, and I’ve walked the route. I know how long it takes.”

“But, Aunt Eunice, the debate club meets on Tuesdays after school.”

“Don’t care. You’ll be here. You don’t need clubs to get good grades. Besides, they travel, right?” At Ryan’s nod, Eunice continued her litany. “You won’t be doing any traveling. You’ll be staying right here in this house working on your basic schoolwork. If you have time left over, you can read the Good Book out loud to me. You do have a fine voice. You don’t need to be wasting it arguing in some club.”