John Lescroart - Nothing But The Truth

‘And? What’s your point? That’s how it works.’

‘But sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes the system doesn’t work.’

‘Uh oh,’ Hardy said.

‘What?’

‘The system doesn’t work. That oldie but goodie greatest hit of the sixties. Except I get nervous when I hear it. Because I’ll tell you what – sometimes the system does work.’

‘It didn’t in Ron’s case. It betrayed him.’ Her eyes had some of that old spark back in them, although Hardy wasn’t especially delighted to see it. She reached out toward him and her voice softened. ‘Dismas, you have to believe me on this. Ron had a reason not to trust lawyers, you’ll see.’

‘I don’t doubt that,’ Hardy said. ‘I don’t trust too many of them myself. But this is me.’

‘You the person, not you the lawyer.’

He hung his head and shook it from side to side. His wife had her hand on his knee. He drained the last gulp from the plastic cup of tepid coffee. ‘All right,’ he said, ‘I promise. It’s between you and me-the-person, me-the-son, and me-the-Holy-Ghost. Let’s hear it.’

Frannie took a last look back toward the door to the room, making sure no guard lurked to overhear. Then she came back to Hardy, took a breath, and began. ‘Ron and Bree had been fighting a lot over this change in her jobs.’

Hardy didn’t like this opening. ‘I really hope that after all this preamble you’re not going to tell me, “Oh, yeah, I remember. He did kill her after all.” ’

The concept wasn’t all that funny, but she forced a smile. ‘He didn’t kill her. He was with me when she died.’

Whether or not this was good news remained a question, but he wasn’t saying anything about it right now. ‘All right. I’m listening. What were they fighting about?’

‘Well, her old job with the oil company was evidently pretty great. Anonymous but big money. She did her research and wrote her papers and nobody paid too much attention out in the real world. She was kind of a star in-house. I mean, she played a big role paving the legislative way for this three-billion-dollar industry, but she wasn’t really a public figure.’

‘But when she signed on with Kerry, that changed?’

‘Right. She started getting a lot of press right away about all the problems with these oil additives.’

‘So why was this an issue with Ron? I mean, if she was the one working, why did he have any say in it?’

‘Same reason I have some kind of input on what you do, the clients you take. At least I think I do, don’t I?’

This was true. Frannie wouldn’t want him to defend, say, the tobacco companies, or a mass murderer, and if he decided he had to/wanted to/needed to, they would certainly have words on the topic. But this whole area didn’t need to be aired, not this morning on top of everything else. Hardy glossed over it. ‘You’re right. But we’re not talking about me and you. We’re talking about Ron and Bree, and they were arguing, right?’

‘Right.’ She was tightening up, as clipped as he was. But he had to keep pushing her. He had to know.

‘OK, and what were they arguing about? Politics? Money?’

But Frannie surprised him. ‘No, nothing like that. It was the kids. Ron’s kids. Max and Cassandra.’

‘They weren’t her kids?’

‘No. Ron was already divorced once. They’re his from that time.’

‘OK. And?’

‘And what?’

‘How was this new job going to affect the kids?’ Suddenly Hardy remembered the discussion he’d had with Erin and Moses last night. ‘Is this the custody thing you mentioned to Erin?’

A look of chagrin, her own carelessness coming back to hurt her. ‘How did Erin connect that with Ron? I never mentioned him.’

She didn’t even mention him to Erin? This news – more secrets – didn’t make his heart sing. But Hardy had a craggy smile he could trot out for juries, and he employed it now, a deflection when something really bothered him and he didn’t dare show it. ‘I think some crafty lawyer might have helped her. But I’m missing the connection here. Job and fights, OK, but how does that relate to custody?’

Frannie wasn’t ready to say exactly, not just yet. ‘Ron thought she was sacrificing the safety of his children for some vague notion of all future children.’ At Hardy’s uncomprehending gaze, she pressed on. ‘She had come to believe that these gas additives were ruining the water supply. She was all worried about cancer clusters and deformed babies.’

‘And St Ron didn’t want her to expose all of this? Why not?’

She frowned. They were getting to the crux of it. ‘Because the more Bree became a public figure, the better the odds that Ron’s ex-wife found out where he was.’

‘And why would that be a problem? For the children, I mean? Was she a stalker, something like that?’

‘Not exactly.’

He waited, then had to prompt her. ‘Frannie.’

It sounded to Hardy as though she were trying the words out for the first time, to see how they flew. ‘She was abusive.’

‘Who? The ex-wife?’

A nod. ‘Dawn. Her name was Dawn. She was’ – Frannie seemed to be stumbling over the words - ’uh, she was starting to try to make money off the kids. Ron found some pictures.‘

‘Are we talking kiddie porn here?’

Frannie nodded.

Hardy blew out a long breath. ‘Jesus.’

‘So he filed for divorce, but even before it got to court, she started accusing him, saying he took the pictures. And the judge believed her and she got custody.’

‘But he’s got them now.’

‘I know,’ she said. ‘He had to take them back.’

‘What do you mean take them back?’ It took a beat for the meaning of it to sink in. ‘Are you saying he kidnapped his own children?’

Frannie didn’t like that terminology. ‘Maybe technically, but that wasn’t what it was. He was saving them. And then, after he’d gone through all that, Bree was going to threaten the whole-’

He held up a hand. ‘Wait a minute, wait a minute! Forget about Bree. You’re telling me Ron lost the custody battle in court and then he took the kids? When was this?’

‘About eight years ago.’

Hardy sat riveted to his chair, barely hearing her.

She continued. ‘He managed to get set up out here, change his name, get together with Bree. And everything was going along fine until she got involved with this Kerry…’ She stopped.

Hardy couldn’t hold back the sarcasm. ‘Everything was going along fine except that he was wanted for kidnapping?’

‘But that wasn’t a real problem-’

‘Yes it was, Frannie. I don’t care what he told you.’

But she was shaking her head. ‘No. That was over. Nobody was looking for him anymore. There wasn’t a problem until he and Bree started fighting, and he thought even that would blow over until-’

Hardy cut her off again. His earlier, patient, and understanding persona was taking a beating. ‘Until she had the bad grace to get herself killed.’ He dragged his palm across his forehead. ‘So where is he now?’

‘I don’t know.’

He tried to keep his voice modulated, but wasn’t entirely successful. ‘You realize of course that if the police get anywhere on this, they’re going to come to the conclusion that he killed her. The truth is, I think he killed her.’

‘He didn’t kill her, Dismas. He’s desperate. He’s trying to save his children.’

‘He kidnapped his children to save them. Maybe he killed his wife to save her. Or here’s a thought – maybe he killed his wife to save the kids again. Maybe he’ll kill you next.’

‘He didn’t kill anybody. He’s not going to kill anybody.’

Hardy would have said that he was at the end of his tether when he’d arrived at the jail. Now there was no doubt about it – he was completely wrung out. Frannie’s hollow denial gonged in his ears, but he knew he was powerless to convince her of anything but what she already thought. Not today in any case, not now.