Fern Michaels - Tuesday’s Child

Kala squeezed her eyes shut. She wasn’t buying Adam’s confession, and Spenser hadn’t bought it either. So, what did that mean? She and Spenser had both agreed that a boatload of guilt over Audrey’s crippling accident was on the man’s shoulders. But… and there was always a but, Spenser hadn’t seen Patty’s report on Audrey Star. Why didn’t the prosecution go into Audrey’s background ten years ago? More to the point, why hadn’t she herself gone into it?

Kala turned her mind back in time. The best she could come up with was they had tried and were either stonewalled, or they decided the investigation was too costly since she was trying the case pro bono. But the prosecution had virtually unlimited resources; they should have done it. Were they stonewalled, too, by the Star flotilla of lawyers?

Even if either side had known, it wouldn’t have changed the outcome of the trial. She was almost certain of that, but she was going to have to talk to Ryan again, and very soon, perhaps before the day was over. Her team had deposed Dr. Rosenberg, who had said nothing like what she’d just read in the report. Then again, Audrey Star wasn’t on trial. Sophie Lee had been on trial. Still, leave no stone unturned unless it cost too much money to turn over said stone.

Kala pressed a button on the phone console. “Ask Jay to come to my office. Linda, too.”

Jay bounded into the room, followed by his wife. He grumbled the whole time about Kala’s being retired and still showing up to work and screwing things up. Linda rolled her eyes, until Kala said, “Enough already! Tell me your best recollection as to why we never delved into Audrey Star’s background ten years ago at trial.”

“Because she was the victim. We did go into her background. She was a socialite, spent money like she printed it herself, partied around the globe, slept all day, and partied all night. She was addicted to manicures, pedicures, facials, massages, and loved to be pampered. She was engaged six times, kept the flashy baubles when said engagements were broken. She gave away her globe-trotting stilettos when she met and married Adam Clements. It was a happy union. Then she died by someone’s hand. We said not by Sophie Lee’s. Spenser said yes to Sophie Lee. End of story. And there you have my photographic mind at work.”

“Jay is right. That’s exactly how it happened. In his closing statement, Spenser gave a touching eulogy of Audrey Star, and the jury bought it,” Linda said.

Kala blinked. “Well, then, read this report. Right now! I’ll go get us some fresh coffee.”

When Kala returned to her office fifteen minutes later, Jay was trying to argue with his wife, who was refusing to be baited. Kala set the tray down, poured out three cups of coffee, then took her seat. “Arguing is for fools,” she said pointedly. “We need to have a discussion.”

“I hope you aren’t saying or thinking we screwed up-because we didn’t. Rosenberg wasn’t talking back then. And even if he had been, what difference would it have made? Sophie Lee was on trial, not Audrey Star.” Jay’s tone was so belligerent, Kala reared back.

“Well, it might have given us some more insight into Adam. We might have been more aggressive with him.”

“And the judge would have slapped you down in a nanosecond. I remember the all-nighter we pulled back then, trying to decide how far we would get if we tried something like that. You , Kala, made the decision not to pursue it. We also had a money problem at that time.”

Kala did remember that all-nighter. And Jay was absolutely right. She said so, gently, so as not to irk him even more. “I’ll be out of your hair shortly, so stop complaining. Then you’re going to really miss me, and you’ll start calling me all hours of the day and night just to hear my voice. And guess what, Jay Brighton? I will not take your calls. So there!”

“That’s not it at all, and you know it. You’re forgiven. Did you call Sophie yet to tell her the check was deposited? And when are you going to tell us what happened with Ryan Spenser?”

“How about right now? I’ll call Sophie later. She’s probably still sleeping or just about to get up.”

Linda settled herself more comfortably, and said, “Well, I for one am all ears. Shoot!”

“Yeah, tell us what the Great White Prosecutor had to say that took almost two hours. I can hardly wait to hear this,” Jay said through clenched teeth.

Kala leaned back in the cracked-leather chair and brought the tips of her fingers together to make a steeple. “Remember how I always say nothing is exactly what it seems? Well, this, my dears, is a case in point.”

“Yeah, well, I have one other point to make,” Jay continued to grumble. “We should have all gone to the Star mansion with Patty and Nick. Five sets of eyes are better than two.”

“Then who would run this very busy, thriving office?” Kala snapped back. “Relax, if there’s anything to find there, those two will find it. Trust me on that, partners.”

Two hours later Patty sat down on the floor Indian style. “There’s nothing here, Nick. This place is a nightmare. Any minute now, I’m expecting Merlin the Wizard to pop out and wave his wand. Can you imagine actually living here in this… this…?”

Nick leaned up against a wall. “I think the word you’re looking for is nightmare . And, no, you couldn’t pay me to live in a house whose walls and ceilings are painted dark blue with gold stars. On top of all that, the furniture is covered with sheets. It’s ghostly, to say the least. I guess the staff took care of everything before they closed up the house. I think you said this house is eight thousand square feet, and we’ve covered four thousand feet so far and found nothing. I’m game to continue, but I don’t think we’re going to find anything.”

Patty shrugged. “You never know. They say if you want to hide something, hide it in plain view. This is the library, and I say this only because I peeked under the sheets draping the bookshelves and saw all those books. Adam must have been a reader, or else Audrey’s parents were readers. Then again, they could have bought all those books from some vendor just to fill up the shelves. People do that, you know. They want to appear intellectual to their friends. We actually did a human-interest story on that a few years ago when I was at the AJC. The bottom line”-Patty giggled-“was if you gave any of those people a quiz on the books, they couldn’t tell you a thing about them. It was stupid.”

“Journals are books, aren’t they?”

“Damn straight they’re books,” Patty said, leaping to her feet. A second later, the sheets were lying on the floor. “Well now, lookie here! And there’s even a library ladder. I’ll do the climbing, Nick.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to fight you for that honor. Are they listed in alphabetical order by author or title?”

“Looks like by author. Lots of first editions here. I see Huckleberry Finn, six different editions. The Great Gatsby, three editions. Gone With the Wind, three editions. Someone must have been a collector. Rare books are worth a fortune. Wonder if Adam read them to Audrey. Forget I said that. It was a stupid comment. The report said Audrey liked Adam to read her political thrillers. The spines haven’t even been broken on most of these books.”

Nick peered up at the top shelf. “If I remember correctly, Huckleberry Finn was written by Mark Twain, which was his pen name. His real name was Samuel L. Clemens. Those editions say Samuel L. Clemens. Don’t you find that a little strange, my little reporter?” Nick grinned. “Think about Adam’s last name. Isn’t it Clemens?”