John Lescroart - Nothing But The Truth

‘So what did she say? Bree?’

‘It wasn’t just saying,’ Ron said. ‘It’s hard to explain, but it was like, all of a sudden, she just… became an adult.’

‘The ugly duckling,’ Hardy said.

‘Right. I’m not saying she hadn’t been an unbelievably generous sister – all for the sake of my kids. She never told me anything about her other men, though I knew she had them. It was kind of tacitly understood between us that none of them could ever be serious because her first duty was’ – he motioned to the back of the duplex – ’to those guys in there. That’s what she’d signed on for.‘

‘But why did she ever agree to do that? I mean, it was so unusual…?’

‘I think that was part of it. If I thought I’d been raised conventional, at least I broke out of that at about twenty. Bree was twenty-eight. She had her doctorate and her new job, but she’d really never experienced anything in the real world. So suddenly this gave her a purpose. She had no social life and she loved the kids. She was saving their lives. You know when you’re young, you’ve got all the time in the world. You make lifetime decisions like it’s picking a pair of shoes.’

Another silence. They both knew all about that.

‘So what happened?’ Hardy asked finally. ‘Why did it start to unravel?’

Across the table, real anguish spilled over into Ron’s face. ‘The most natural thing in the world,’ he said ruefully. ‘She fell in love. She wanted her own life, her own family.’ He hesitated, then went on. ‘And I didn’t want her to have it. I didn’t want to have to change. I was furious when I found out she’d gotten pregnant.’

‘By Kerry.’

He nodded. ‘She was going to tell him. I don’t know if she ever did. It was another issue between us.’

‘Wait a minute. You had your identity established, so why didn’t you just pretend to get a divorce, then she marries Kerry?’

Ron was shaking his head. ‘The next governor? I don’t think so. Anybody but him, maybe, but if she’s the new first lady of California, people are going to be pretty damn curious about her past. It would have come out.’

‘So what did you suggest? What was your solution?’

‘I don’t know. I thought we could split up now, OK, then wait a year or two. Put some distance between me and her. If she would only have waited…’

‘But she was already pregnant. She’d waited enough, hadn’t she?’

To his credit, Ron wasn’t proud of any of this. ‘She really blew up at me. When was I going to let her live her life? How could I be so selfish after all she’d done for me and the kids?’ He met Hardy’s eyes. ‘And, of course, she was right.’

They came, at last, to the nub.

Ron’s initial reaction was a shocked disbelief that Hardy would even ask. Surely he could see that it was impossible? Ron couldn’t do it. He got up, crossed the kitchen, went to the sink and threw some water on his face, wiping it dry with a dish towel. He stood for a moment leaning on his hands. Hardy spoke to his back. ‘I’m afraid this isn’t a negotiable invitation, Ron. You’re going to be there.’

He turned around. ‘How can you ask me to do this?’

‘Because it’s the only way.’

‘It can’t be. They’ll arrest me. I can’t let that happen. This is precisely what I’ve gone to all these lengths to avoid.’

‘Ron, listen to me.’ Hardy stood, his jaw set. ‘This isn’t the grand jury. The deliberations aren’t going to be secret. No prosecutor is going to be able to sandbag you. And besides, I need you to be there. For Frannie.’

‘I don’t understand why.’

‘The simple answer is because there won’t be a hearing if you’re not sitting in the courtroom. I promised the judge.’

‘But that…’

Hardy held out a hand, and snapped it out. ‘Listen up, Ron. The real answer – and I really don’t think it’s going to get to that, but if it does – is you’ve got to be there to tell her she can talk.’

The conflict played in his face. ‘But I wrote her that note that she…’

‘I know what you wrote her,’ Hardy snapped. ‘That won’t play, I told you that. She’s got her own ideas on the timing of this thing, and nobody but you is going to change her mind.’ He lowered his voice. ‘You owe her this, Ron. You know you do. Hell, you owe it to me.’

Ron walked away again. The room was too small. At the window end, he stood staring out at the gray for nearly a minute, which seemed a very long time. Finally, he turned back. ‘Do you know who killed Bree?’

‘I know it wasn’t you. I can prove it wasn’t you.’

‘I’ve always heard you couldn’t prove a negative.’

Hardy had always heard that, too. But with Glitsky’s corroboration, he could make a convincing argument that the same person had killed Griffin, Canetta, and Bree. Therefore…

‘That may be true,’ he said. ‘But sometimes you get a good enough lawyer working on it, you can create the impression.’

But Ron kept up the challenge. ‘And that would be you?’

Suddenly, Hardy had had enough. Marie and Ron and the kids might be playing all of this as some game that would end tomorrow, but it wasn’t a game, and Hardy believed with all his heart that it wasn’t going to end until he made it happen. His mouth turned up, though he’d gotten beyond smiling.

‘That’s right, my friend, that would be me.’

Ron stood by the window. Outside, Hardy could make out the little boxes on the hillside of Twin Peaks rising behind them. He was surprised to note that it was still light out. The fog had lifted to a low cover, smudged and dirty.

‘Ron.’

Another long moment. ‘I don’t have any choice, do I?’

‘I’m afraid not.’

He stared out the window in front of him, then turned and walked back to the kitchen table. He sat down heavily, spun his beer bottle again, and looked up at Hardy. ‘I’ll be there.’

Hardy studied him for a beat. ‘You’re sure?’

Ron bobbed his head distractedly. There was no more hesitation. He’d made up his mind. ‘Yes, I’m sure.’ He raised his eyes and offered a smile. Hardy had wedged him and then beaten him. He’d be there. Of course. He had to be. There was no other choice.

Hardy exhaled in apparent relief. ‘OK, then. I’ll pick you up here at eight fifteen? How does that sound?’

‘All right,’ Ron repeated. ‘Eight fifteen. That’s fine. I’ll be ready.’

‘Great.’ Hardy again produced a victorious sigh. He extended his hand over the table. ‘Sorry this has been so difficult,’ he said, ‘but it’s going to work out, believe me. And thanks for all the cooperation today.’

Their discussion was over. Ron shook Hardy’s hand again, keeping up the chatter. When they’d gotten to the front door, Hardy paused. ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘one last small thing. Could I have a word alone with Cassandra for just a sec?’

Ron’s visage clouded over. But Hardy, expecting the negative reaction, gave him a man-to-man smile, laying a hand on his arm. ‘She’s my pal, remember?’ he said. ‘She’s the one who got me into this with all of you. It’s only right we let her in on the plan, don’t you think?’

They went just outside on the landing by the front door.

Ron and Marie and the kids were treating it as a game, and Hardy made it just another part of the game for Cassandra, their own personal secret. Her father had told her she could trust Mr Hardy, didn’t he? If she wanted to double check with him, they could call him out here and ask, but then there was a chance that Max would hear.

The reason Hardy wanted to talk to her by herself, why they were alone out here on the landing was because her dad didn’t want to have Max get all upset that she was the only one he was letting go to the sleepover at Rebecca Hardy’s.