When Men Betray (47 page)

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Authors: Webb Hubbell

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Could it get any more embarrassing?

Maggie came in carrying flowers and real food. Beth updated her on what the doctor had said, and I suggested they both go back to
Micki's for a rest. Walter and Jeff needed them more than I did. That was a no-go. Since the policeman would remain on guard, they eventually agreed to leave me on my own for the night. Beth left the room to call Jeff.

“Can you do me a favor?” I asked Maggie. She nodded. “I need to tell Beth the truth about what happened way back when. I'd like all of us to be there. Can you call Sam and Marshall and see if they can come out to Micki's tomorrow night?”

She tilted her head and gave me a narrow look. “Are you sure you're well enough for that kind of drama? Why not take some time to heal, enjoy what you've accomplished? There has to be a better time.”

“There'll always be a better time, but being here has taught me one thing—if something needs to be done, now's the only time. Woody, Russell, none of it will ever be over until Beth knows the truth. Please get in touch with Marshall and Sam, and Helen too. You all know what happened by now, but I need your support when I tell Beth. Besides, we all need the closure. Jeff needs to hear the story, too.”

Maggie knew I wasn't going to be talked out of this. “What about Clovis?”

“Clovis has already heard part of it; he might as well hear my version. Besides, I feel safer with him around.”

“Indeed,” Maggie said. “You're practically a one-man shooting gallery.”

Beth came back with some ginger ale, and we dropped the subject.
Why do they always give you ginger ale?
We relaxed and talked about everyday stuff for a change. Beth said it was time for her to get back to school. She and Maggie talked about wedding plans, and I pretended to listen.

As they were about to leave, Micki came in. She offered to watch me for a while, saying she'd tuck me in. Beth and Maggie snickered as they closed the door. This time I didn't care.

Of course, any thought of being alone with Micki was impossible. The door was constantly shoved opened by hospital staff who
sometimes
knocked once. Before you could even say “come in” or pull up the covers, they were checking your vitals, cleaning the room, asking how much you'd peed, then leaving with a cheery, “Get some rest!”

Micki played the vamp, asking in a husky voice, “Ready for your sponge bath?”

The thought almost overcame the pain in my left side, but not quite. I asked her to give me a rain check.

I really did want to know what had happened, and she was happy to fill me in. After the shooting, everyone had rushed to the hospital. Marshall, Sam, and Peggy called, offering to put the proceedings on hold.

“God love your Maggie,” Micki said. “When everything was a madhouse, she realized that Sam and Marshall, with the best of intentions, were about to postpone everything. She took me aside, and said, ‘You get back on the phone and tell them that Jack is lying shot in a hospital because nobody took him seriously. Tell them we'll be in Marshall's chambers tomorrow morning ready to go. As soon as we know Jack is going to make it, we're going back to your place and getting ready for court.'

“Beth stayed at the hospital, but the rest of us went back to my place and got to work. Maggie was unbelievable. She put me through my paces, for sure. I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Having your partner shot takes a lot out of a girl. I had to get some sleep, but Maggie and Jeff stayed up for hours, and the next morning, everything was in neat little packages ready to hand out. I've never walked into court better prepared.”

I smiled and nodded.
No wonder Maggie looked pale and tired
.

“When we got to the judge's chambers Friday morning, Sam told Marshall that his deputies were opposed to any deal, but that, after what had happened to you, he was ready to try to move forward. If I could convince his deputies, he'd be on board. With that, he coolly picked up the
New York Times
and sat down in a corner.

“I wasn't happy with his proposal—his deputies had no intention of being convinced, but once again Maggie proved her mettle. She refused to let them shut down the process. Maggie kept at us until every single issue had been ironed out. We were all amazed.

“Peggy came in just as Sam and I had finished going over the major points with Marshall. She appeared to be shocked that we'd actually come to an agreement. The attorney general had told her to move slowly. They wanted to take Bea into protective custody, but weren't
ready to deal with Woody—not with this much national attention focused on the case.

“That took the air out of the room, let me tell you. I admit I said something I shouldn't have. I expected Marshall to call me on the carpet, but instead, he muttered, ‘My sentiments exactly, Ms. Lawrence.' Sam was obviously angry. Cool as a cucumber, Marshall asked us to take our seats. His smile was actually scary. I remember the next part almost verbatim.

“‘I assume you informed the attorney general that Mr. Patterson was almost killed yesterday?' Peggy said that the attorney general considered it purely a local matter. Can you believe that? You should have seen Marshall's face. Peggy actually squirmed in her chair.

“He tapped his ballpoint on his desk for what seemed forever. Then he said, ‘Ms. Fortson, I'm not asking for the Justice Department's position; I'm just curious. Do you believe what we learned yesterday is purely a local matter?'

“She squared her shoulders and said, ‘No, Your Honor, I do not.' It was great.

“Marshall reached for his legal pad and started writing. No one had the nerve to say a word. When he looked up he said something like this: ‘I'm inclined to approve the agreement counsel reached this morning, subject to how it may be affected by the Justice Department's position. However, since these events are purely local in nature, I believe what Mr. Patterson proposed can be worked out locally.' Every time Marshall said the word locally or local he emphasized it. ‘I'm confident that what we learned yesterday violates some local laws as well, and since the attorney general feels this is a local matter he won't mind if Mr. Pagano's office begins its own investigation. Mr. Pagano, do you plan to undertake such an investigation?'

“Sam's smile was answer enough.

“‘Good,' Marshall said. ‘You can count on the assistance of this court in your undertaking. As soon as counsels reach an agreement, I'll preserve the testimony of Ms. Taylor in open court. The court's gag order will remain in place and applies to all parties, including the US government. An order reflecting what I just said will become public record as soon as you reach agreement. I will also release yesterday's transcript and the video at the same time.'”

I smiled ear to ear as Micki recounted this. Man, I was so wishing I'd been there, but then again, Marshall did what he did because I wasn't.

“What did Peggy say to that?”

“Peggy said, ‘No disrespect, Judge, but may I first remind the court that the United States is not a party to these proceedings.'

“Marshall was the picture of kindness. ‘I'm sorry. I forgot to mention that US Attorney Blanchard made a half-hearted oral motion to intervene on Monday, and I told him to put it in writing. I've had second thoughts. I've decided that such formality wasn't necessary, and I've granted his motion.' With that, he held up his legal pad where he had handwritten an order and grinned. ‘Ms. Fortson, please advise the attorney general that he is subject to my gag order, and if he or anyone connected to the Justice Department says anything to the media about this case, they will be subject to sanctions. You can also tell him I expect him to appear in my courtroom the day Ms. Taylor's testimony is preserved.'

“Peggy was flustered. She said, ‘You can't compel the appearance of the attorney general or gag him.'

“Marshall didn't blink. You should have heard him. He said, ‘Try me. And let me suggest that you tell the attorney general this is not a
local
matter. Just like you, just like Jack, I have an obligation when I hear that the laws of my country are being violated—an obligation to act. I don't have the luxury of saying that it's purely a local matter or somebody else's problem. What I heard yesterday goes way beyond the death of a US senator. Jack Patterson put his life on the line to let us know what he discovered, and I have no intention of letting it remain a
local
matter.' It was hard not to cheer.

“Poor Peggy immediately agreed to call the attorney general, and she wasn't gone long. I wish you'd seen how relieved she looked when she told Marshall that the attorney general had approved your proposal and that she was ready to talk about Woody's protection and cooperation. She assured Sam he'd have the total cooperation of the Justice Department. We were all smiling until she said, ‘Your Honor, the attorney general has put only one condition on his approval.' Everyone waited for Marshall's reaction, but he looked like he was cut from stone. Peggy broke out in a big grin and said, ‘When he flies to
Little Rock, the attorney general wants to meet with you personally over coffee.' And I bet you can guess what he said.”

We both said at the same time, “I don't know why we shouldn't.”

I felt better than I had in a long while. Micki told me she'd spent most of the day working out the details with Peggy and Rodney. Everything had been signed, and both Bea and Woody were now safely ensconced in a confidential location. Woody was on board—still anxious, but feeling better.

The nurses chose that moment to wheel in their equipment and do their thing. An exhausted Micki almost fell asleep in the chair. After the nurses left, I told her she needed to go home and get some rest. She smiled, crawled onto my bed fully clothed, gave me a moist kiss, and said, “No action tonight, partner, just a little spooning.”

She snuggled next to me, and we were both asleep in a matter of seconds.

SUNDAY
52

T
HE NEXT MORNING,
when I woke, Micki was gone. The nurses were smirking, but I didn't really care. I had a feeling that our law partnership had begun without a word. Whatever Walter and I worked out, it would have to include a law practice on the side. I enjoyed the rush of being in court and wasn't ready to give it up just yet. But this time, I'd do it my way.

Now that I had permission to leave the hospital, I figured Clovis would help me change into some jeans and a shirt, and I'd walk right out, but that's not the way it works. You have to sign forms, wait on doctors to sign orders, wait on nurses to remove the last IV, wait on a wheelchair. The list of waits goes on and on, until you're practically begging them to let you leave. Eventually, I was out the door and into Clovis's new Tahoe. I didn't ask what had happened to the Suburban.

When we got to Micki's, Walter and Jeff were practicing wedge shots in her pasture, Maggie and Beth were kibitzing from the porch, and Micki was in the barn, feeding her horses. The spring weather was fickle. A front was moving through, and a fire in the fireplace would be in order for the evening. Clovis said he couldn't match Bea's cooking, but he did a mean steak. After hospital food, I was definitely ready for steak and twice-baked potatoes. Marshall was picking up Helen, and they'd be here for dinner. Sam was reluctant
at first, but when Maggie told him what I wanted to talk about, he said he'd be here.

We watched the press conference on TV. In a practiced, articulate manner, the attorney general spoke of Senator Robinson's legacy, the plea agreement with Woody, and the importance of federal and local cooperation to our national security. He must have said “national security” at least a dozen times. When asked if my shooting would be a part of the task force's investigation, he said he couldn't go into the details but that the individual who'd initially been arrested had been turned over to the FBI.

Everyone involved was concerned about how the public would react to the sealed agreement. The media wouldn't hesitate to fan the smoldering coals of Little Rock by suggesting we were engaged in some huge cover-up. Lucy surprised all of us by appearing on the podium with the attorney general. Looking gracious and elegant, she gave a moving speech suggesting patience and calm. I couldn't help but wonder what she had up her well-cut sleeve.

Beth and Jeff planned to leave in the morning. They'd missed enough school. Walter would drop them off in Charlotte on his way to DC with Maggie. I had to stay in Little Rock a few more days before the doctors would let me leave. The ever-resourceful Clovis knew a nurse who would come in to deal with my bandages and a physical therapist who'd get me started. This nurse might not have dreamy eyes, but I'd just have to make do.

Maggie wanted to stay with me, proposing that Walter come get us both in a week, but I declined, saying, “You have an office in DC to organize.”

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