Perri O'Shaughnessy - Case of Lies

“You have a lot of mop-up on the Hanna lawsuit today. Mr. Hanna already called. He’s actually not at home, he’s staying with Roger. I thought you’d be in at nine.”

“Sorry. You and Wish were great yesterday, Sandy. Thanks again.”

“I hope we never have anything like that again. The waiting was bad. I never thought he’d get out alive.” Sandy looked tired, too. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m happy you’re here, Sandy. Where’s Wish?”

“Sergeant Cheney called and Wish said he’d go see him. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll be in my office.”

“Don’t you want some coffee?”

“Give me a minute.” Nina went into her office and shut the door. She went behind her desk, kicked her shoes off, put up her feet, and closed her eyes. She had spent the night alternately pacing the floor and sitting on the couch in front of the fire, trying to understand what she had done.

Flint’s words, that it was her fault, damned her. The guilt was overwhelming. Even with Dave’s miraculous survival, she had it from the killer’s mouth that she had set him off on a murder spree.

And for what? What good had come of her legal machinations, her travels, her theories? Three murders and several attempted murders. She was tapped out on the expenses, Dave would get little besides scars and traumatic memories, and Chelsi was dead.

Tapped out. Yes, that was it. In a way, she had tried to play God with a devil. And this was the result.

She didn’t think she could go on. She would quit practicing law, teach or something. She didn’t have the hide for it anymore. Representing a client meant being personally responsible, and she was responsible.

Flint himself had said she had set him off.

She picked up the receiver and called Roger’s house.

“How are you both this morning?” she asked when Roger picked up.

“Dave is holding court. He looks pretty banged up with the bandages on his face, but he’s in a great mood. The docs say he’ll be fine in a couple of weeks. He slept last night and this morning the reporters found us, so he’s been doing interviews. I threw out all the booze in the house.”

“Can I talk to him?”

“Sure. Hang on.”

Hanna’s voice sounded weak. “Hi.”

“Hi. I called to see how you were.”

“Fine. My rib hurts but I have some pills. There are people here. I can’t talk long.”

“I’m glad you made it,” Nina said. “I wanted to apologize. For getting you into it. I guess I really did get Flint going.”

“Yeah, he blamed you for everything. Not that he wasn’t about to kill me, when the cops came.”

“I’m sorry. For what you went through.”

“That’s what I get, for letting Roger and Chelsi talk me into hiring you. It was them, too, pushing, pushing. Flint went crazy.”

“Did he say anything to you-anything strange?”

“Like what?”

“That he didn’t kill Sarah?”

“The opposite. He was real clear about it. He did it.” She heard someone talking in the background. “There’s a guy here who wants to buy the rights to my story. Do you know a lawyer who handles stuff like that?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Listen, I’m gonna go. Nina, start dismantling whatever you’ve been up to, okay? Roger and I have talked about it and we feel we’ve suffered enough. Just throw the case out or whatever you do.”

“How about if we talk tomorrow about it?” Nina said.

“If you want. Bye.”

Nina hung up. She felt sick. It was the whole Hanna case making her sick. At least Dave made it through, she thought.

Wish burst through the door, Sandy right behind him. “Have to talk to you right now,” he said breathlessly.

Nina held her hand to her chest. “Not another murder!”

He dropped into a chair. Sandy had locked up outside. She took the other client chair. “Stop scaring us, Willis,” she said. “What is it?”

“I talked to Cheney. He says the coroner gave him a preliminary report this morning. The coroner told him that Lee Flint had bruising on his arms and legs and cheeks.”

“So? Dave struggled with him.”

“It’s not like that, Nina,” Wish said slowly.

“Well, out with it,” Sandy told him.

“These are specific marks of being tied up. You know, in the chair at the Hanna house.”

“The chair Dave was tied in?”

“Sergeant Cheney had just talked to the hospital. Mr. Hanna didn’t have any marks like that.”

“Flint was tied up? Not Dave?” Nina said. “You’re confusing me, Wish.”

“No, you have it exactly right. Flint was tied up, not Mr. Hanna. We’re sitting in the sergeant’s office and he’s telling me this. He wants to have you brought in for a discussion. Then he gets a phone call from the police forensics lab in Sacramento. I was right there, Nina. He almost fell off his chair.”

“Why?”

“It’s about our client, Nina. Are you ready?”

“Go ahead,” Nina said.

“The fingerprint report came in on the gun Meredith gave you. The one used in the robbery.”

“And?”

“There was a surprise.”

“Which was?”

“Mr. Hanna’s fingerprint was on the barrel. Along with Flint’s and Meredith’s.”

Nina said, puzzled, “Dave handled the gun? When could he have done that?”

“Yes, when?” Wish said. “You see?”

“Slow down,” Sandy said. “I’m still thinking about bruises.”

Nina swung her legs down. She put her hands on the desk. “Dave touched the gun.”

“Yes.”

“He came running down after his wife was shot and touched the gun.”

Sandy objected, “But Meredith saw him coming down. That’s when she picked up the gun, when she saw him on the staircase, yelling.”

“If she’s telling the truth, he couldn’t have touched it-”

Wish said, “You see? Unless he had already been down there-”

“And he was going back up the stairs?”

“Not coming down to get help?” Sandy said.

“Going back up, after he touched the gun,” Nina said. “I don’t like what I’m thinking.” The shock made it hard to think clearly. “No possible mistake about the fingerprint?” she said.

“No. It was from his hunting license.”

“He saw the attempted robbery from the balcony, with his wife,” Nina said. “He saw Elliott rush Flint and knock the gun out of his hand. There was an interval between the first two shots and the third shot.”

“The students and Flint-they must have all run away after the second shot,” Wish said.

“What are you saying, Willis?” Sandy demanded. “You’re not saying our client fired the third shot?”

“What do you think, Mom?”

“I don’t know.”

“Nina?” Wish said.

“Let’s say he came running down the stairs and saw the gun on the ground. He picked it up and saw his wife. He shot her. He might have heard Meredith coming. He only had seconds, Wish! He should have wiped the gun, or kept it.”

“But he didn’t have time to think. He only had time to run halfway up again and pretend he was coming down for the first time when she saw him.”

“He just didn’t have time to deal with the gun,” Nina said.

“There you go,” Wish said.

“I don’t believe it,” Sandy said. “Why would he kill his wife? She was pregnant!”

“Yes. She was thirty-eight and she taught school and she was going to have a baby,” Nina said. “His baby.”

“I just don’t believe it.”

“Hang on.” Nina held up a hand. She struggled with a feeling so intense she couldn’t speak for a minute.

Betrayal. To be betrayed like this by her own client hurt. She breathed in and out, trying to think.