Читать книгу: «Private Lives»
They were approaching the restaurant, which had half a dozen umbrella-covered tables set outside. She stopped and looked about, caught in full sunshine. Her hair was an incredible color, he thought, not red, but a dark auburn and shot through with rich fiery highlights. Thick and lustrous, it fell to her shoulders, wanting to curl in Houston’s humid air—going its own untamed way. He preferred her looking natural and feminine, as she did now in jeans and soft T-shirt. As for those green eyes…A man could learn to love the look of a woman like Liz.
“Liz—” He stopped her as she started inside. She turned, giving him a questioning look. “After this is over, would you have dinner with me? Could we get to know each other better without all the complications of Austin…and everything else?”
“I…don’t know.” She frowned.
“Are you seeing somebody?”
“No. It’s just—” Shaking her head, she looked sort of frantically at the traffic. “I’m really not interested in…that.”
He smiled, a half tilt of his mouth, knowing the risk he took teasing her. “Don’t tell me Austin’s tacky accusations were right after all?”
“Austin’s—” She looked confused a second or two before she understood. “Oh, that Gina and I—” She stopped, giving a soft laugh. “No, his accusations were probably a fantasy in his own mind. He’s just that sick.” She glanced at the door. “Are we having lunch or not?”
She hadn’t promised to go out with him, but he hadn’t been completely shot down, either, he thought. He felt hopeful. “Want to sit outside?”
Also available from MIRA Books and KAREN YOUNG
FULL CIRCLE
GOOD GIRLS
IN CONFIDENCE
Private Lives
Karen Young
www.mirabooks.co.uk
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’m grateful to several people for advice, information and moral support in the writing of this book. To Metsy Hingle for the idea and a long list of other favors. To Emilie Richards for being a sensitive and insightful sounding board when I needed it most. To my daughter, Alison Simmons, who is tireless and patient with me in avenues of my career that do not include sitting at my computer and writing. To Jon Salem for his canny grasp of the workings of the publishing world, and the world at large, and his willingness to share it with me. To my nephew, Mike Farris, for the boat stuff. And finally, to my editor, Valerie Gray, with thanks for her astute suggestions and attention to detail.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
One
“Lizzie. What’s wrong? You’re pale as a ghost.”
“I don’t believe this, Louie.” Elizabeth Walker’s attention was riveted on an article in the Sunday newspaper. Her picture was front and center in the article, but it was the content of the piece that dismayed her. “You remember that reporter from the Houston Chronicle who interviewed me a couple of weeks ago?”
“After a bit of pressure from your publisher?” Louie Christian broke a piece off his bagel and tossed it from the gazebo to his dog, Archie, who caught it with a quick snap of his teeth. “Is the article in the paper today?”
“It’s the front page feature in the ‘Lifestyle’ section.”
Louie leaned over to see for himself. “Nice photo. You look very professional sitting at your computer.”
Elizabeth’s response was a disgruntled snort. “I knew I shouldn’t have agreed. Listen to this.” She moved her coffee cup aside and spread the paper flat on the low table across from Louie. Grimacing, she read aloud, “‘Houston author Elizabeth Walker, winner of the prestigious Newbery Award for children’s books, leads an almost reclusive life. Repeated attempts to interview her were unsuccessful. It was only after her publisher intervened that Walker, an auburn-haired beauty who looks more like a runway model than an author of sensitive stories for children, reluctantly agreed to the interview at her home in the exclusive Memorial area. Consequently, her reluctance had this reporter’s nose aquiver. Deeper research revealed a very interesting history quite apart from her life as a writer. Walker, it seems, is the daughter of Matthew Scurlock Walker, a judge who was once a powerful political figure in Houston legal circles. After his death in a mysterious house fire twenty-five years ago, Walker left behind three daughters. Elizabeth, the eldest, was five years old at the time. Having no other relatives, her two younger siblings were adopted, but Elizabeth landed in the care of the state of Texas, then spent the remainder of her childhood in and out of various foster homes.”’
Elizabeth stood up abruptly and began to pace. “What possible relevance does any of this have on my career, Louie?”
“None, specifically, but you’ll have to admit it adds spice to the reporter’s article.”
Bending, she swept up the article. “I suppose this part is also titillating,” she said, snapping out the page smartly. “‘According to sources, Walker has had no relationship with her siblings since their adoption. She has not seen them since the night of the fire.’ How does he know that, Louie?”
“Deeper research, I suppose.”
She muttered something unintelligible and tossed the paper aside. Moving to the steps of the gazebo, she looked out, tears blurring her vision. “What’s missing from the reporter’s story is that my sisters’ adoptive parents never made the slightest effort to contact me.”
Behind her, Louie picked up the paper and scanned the article. “You can’t let something like this upset you, Lizzie. Your success makes you an interesting person to the public at large. The reporter struck it lucky when he researched a little deeper and discovered your past to be a bit extraordinary.”
“I feel violated, Louie. It’s almost like…rape.” She closed her eyes and took a deep, unsteady breath.
Louie sighed, knowing her well enough to leave it alone for now.
But Elizabeth wasn’t ready to leave it. “It’s no wonder the media is suffering from a reputation only slightly better than used car salesmen,” she said bitterly, turning to face him. “I’m amazed at my own naiveté, Louie. The questions he asked were so benign, such as, ‘How do you get your ideas?’ and ‘How difficult was it to get published?’ and ‘What made you choose to write books for children rather than adult fiction?’ And I actually thought that was what the article would be about.”
“He appears to cover that, too,” Louie said, still reading.
She turned and looked at him, then after a beat, she managed a short laugh. “I’m overreacting, right?”
Louie put the paper down. “I wouldn’t say that, since he’s opened your life to the world, but your editor and your agent would probably remind you that any publicity, favorable or otherwise, is good.”
She made a disgusted sound and picked up her cup. She could always trust Louie to spin even the most awful experience in a positive light. She knew that he understood her reaction to the reporter’s insensitive exposé of her history, knew that to her it was like pouring salt in a wound that had never quite healed. Still knowing all that, he wouldn’t let her wallow in self-pity. She studied him over the rim of her cup with affection. At seventy-one, his white beard gave him a distinguished air even though she’d noticed he’d begun to stoop a bit. She wondered if she could persuade him to have a full physical.
Louie had been her neighbor for about five years, but they hadn’t become friends right away. Her fault, not his. Those years in foster care had shaped her well. She’d learned early the hazards of trusting too soon. But Louie had patiently persevered. Elderly and lonely himself, he’d finally breached her shy defenses with a variety of neighborly gestures: offering tomatoes and cucumbers from his garden, bringing her newspaper to the door on rainy days, returning her trash can to the garage after the garbage was picked up. And, best of all, assuming a vital role in Jesse’s life.
A sharp shriek from across the lawn brought her to her feet. But it was joy, not distress making Jesse squeal. The little girl and her best friend, Cody, were in wild pursuit of Archie who now had not a bagel, but something dark blue and crushable in his teeth. There was no likelihood that the big golden retriever would be overtaken, but both kids were giving the race their personal best.
“Is that something valuable in his mouth?” Louie asked, moving up behind her.
“Cody’s cherished Texans ball cap? Priceless.” Elizabeth smiled, watching Jesse try to outsmart the dog by circling behind while Cody stood out in front and yelled as a distraction. Squealing, Jesse leaped on the playful retriever from behind and Cody dived gleefully into the tangle of little girl and big dog. Amazingly, Cody emerged from the fray with his cap. Archie got up, too, shaking himself vigorously, tongue dangling in a doggie grin.
“Maybe we’d better go check for broken limbs,” Louie said dryly as the two five-year-olds sprawled on the lawn, winded and giggling.
“Whose, Archie’s or the kids?”
“Good point.”
Smiling, they watched as the children tore off in another direction, Archie between them, barking joyously. Elizabeth felt a rush of love. Jesse was a delightful mix of tomboy and sprightly femininity. And a constant delight, despite the fact that lately her welfare was a constant concern.
And on that thought, Elizabeth’s smile faded. Gina D’Angelo, Jesse’s mother, was living with Elizabeth now after her longtime lover, Austin Leggett, had finally broken off their relationship. Elizabeth was holding her breath praying the affair was truly over this time. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d opened her home to Gina and Jesse after one of Austin’s tirades, but in the past he would soon apologize, Gina would forgive all, and the whole dysfunctional cycle would begin again. It was frustrating and painful to Elizabeth to see that Jesse was forced to live in an atmosphere of fear and violence. Gina was an adult and free to make her own choices, but Jesse, the child of their stormy relationship, was without options. Maybe this time the split would be permanent, as Gina had confessed that she suspected Austin was having an affair. She had no wish to see Gina hurt, but she knew the relationship would end only when Austin decided to end it. For Jesse’s sake, she hoped the time had come. The fact that Gina had hired an attorney and a law suit was filed regarding Jesse’s custody gave Elizabeth hope. On the other hand, she worried about Jesse’s fate if the breakup turned ugly. As the little girl’s father, Austin Leggett would have considerable standing in the eyes of the court.
“Is Gina sleeping in this morning?” Louie asked, his eyes still on the kids.
“She has a lot on her mind lately.” Elizabeth knew what he was thinking. It should be Gina out here watching her daughter, not Liz. But Gina hadn’t come home last night until after eleven. In spite of the fact that she was forced to move on with her life, she was devastated by Austin’s rejection and stressed out over the upcoming custody hearing. Seeing that she felt cooped up after weeks in the house, Elizabeth had suggested she take in a movie. But hours after the movie was over, when she still had not come home, Jesse had been worried. Elizabeth was sympathetic over Gina’s situation, but she didn’t—couldn’t—condone Gina’s occasional lapses in parental responsibility.
Finally, Gina had called, apologetic and contrite over waiting so late to check in. She’d taken in a movie and then decided to browse in the Galleria, she told Elizabeth. Next, she’d bumped into a friend who was a paralegal in the law firm where Gina no longer worked, thanks to Austin, and simply lost track of the time. Was Jesse okay, she’d asked. What if she weren’t, Elizabeth had thought with some irritation, but she’d reassured her and agreed to give the little girl her bath and put her to bed.
“One more book, Aunt Lizzie, pul-eeezze,” Jesse had begged later when Elizabeth was trying to coax her into settling down for the night. Sleepy-eyed, her tattered Barney clutched tight to her chest, she was doggedly determined to wait for her missing mommy. Elizabeth closed Miss Spider’s Wedding and tucked an equally tattered blanket snugly around her.
“Three’s the limit, Jesse-girl,” she said, letting her touch linger on the child’s cheek. “It’s way, way past your bedtime. You know how hard it is to wake up in the mornings when you go to bed too late.” Elizabeth rose from the side of the bed, but Jesse caught her hand, stopping her.
“Will you stay beside me until I go to sleep, Aunt Lizzie?”
It had been weeks since Gina had arrived in the middle of the night with Jesse, pale and frightened and clinging to her mother’s jeans, but the ordeal was far from forgotten by the child. Jesse played hard during the day and even seemed okay at kindergarten, but at bedtime her anxieties surfaced.
Elizabeth was sympathetic to Gina’s plight, but her first thought had been for Jesse that night when she’d opened the door and the little girl had flung herself into her Aunt Lizzie’s arms. There was no telling what the child had witnessed in that final scene between Gina and Austin, as Gina had never quite revealed all the ugly details. But tension—and worse—between the child’s parents had taken a toll whether Gina allowed herself to see it or not.
“I think I will just have a seat in this old rocking chair,” Elizabeth had said in a reassuring tone as she pulled the antique close to Jesse’s bed. “I’ll rock awhile and you can count sheep.”
“Don’t turn off the light, Aunt Lizzie.”
“I won’t.”
“And don’t close the door.”
“No way. G’night, sweetheart.”
Jesse’s eyes darted to the window. “Does my daddy have a key to this house, Aunt Lizzie?”
“No, darling. Only your mommy and I have a key.”
“She might give it to Daddy.”
“She won’t. She promised. It’s just for her.”
“Good.” Jesse paused a beat or two. “Could he get in the window, do you think?”
“No, sweetheart. I have a security system, remember? When a door is opened or a window is raised, it goes off and the police hurry over here.”
“Police are good. They help people.” Reassured somewhat, Jesse yawned widely, eyes heavy at last, wanting to close. “We learned that in school.”
“Yes, police help people.” Elizabeth had reached over and rubbed the child’s back, her own throat tight with emotion. It wasn’t fair for a child to have these fears! “Don’t worry, Jesse. You’re safe here with me. Always.”
“Is my mommy safe?”
“I’m sure she is, but she’s probably stuck in traffic, sweetheart. She’ll be home soon.”
“I’m glad you’re not stuck somewhere, Aunt Lizzie. I need you to be here…with…me.” Words had slurred into silence then. And with a last flutter of lashes, Jesse had finally surrendered to sleep.
Elizabeth had actually felt the tension easing from the child’s body. Recalling it now, Elizabeth wrestled with conflicting feelings of loyalty to Gina and her love for Jesse. With a sigh, she rested her hands on the railing of the gazebo and felt frustration and not a little fear. Jesse was safe now, and yet Elizabeth knew how tenuous that security was. She was unable to control the other forces threatening this child of her heart. How many lectures had she given Gina about her responsibility to Jesse? And how little did anything she said matter when Gina’s obsession with Austin was so much stronger? It mystified Elizabeth how Gina could choose the brutal, unsafe existence she had with her lover over other options. And to subject Jesse to it defied understanding.
The truth was, no matter how Elizabeth wished it otherwise, Gina was basically flawed as a parent. She was a less-than-perfect mother. Of course, Elizabeth would never tell her that, or anyone else. She, above all others, understood Gina, knew where she came from. Her personality had been set in their early years as they’d been shuffled from one foster home after another, both longing for permanency and parents of their own. Knowing firsthand the damage that was done when children were denied the stability of a good home, why didn’t Gina do the right thing? It was this failure on Gina’s part to protect Jesse from the damage they’d suffered that confounded Elizabeth most.
Watching Jesse now, Elizabeth knew the bittersweet pain of loving someone else’s child. If Jesse were hers, she’d never be subjected to the terror of feuding adults. If Jesse were hers, she’d treasure the child as a gift from God. If Jesse were hers, it would be a second chance for her and she’d be a good mother the second time around. And this time, she’d never let go.
Two
Elizabeth received an e-mail the day after the article appeared in the newspaper, and her first reaction was total surprise. The address on the screen was unfamiliar, but the subject grabbed her instantly, which was exactly what the writer intended, she decided later. Usually, she went through her messages and deleted anything she didn’t recognize, as well as annoying advertisements and worse. How she’d managed to get on some of those lists, she hadn’t a clue. But the highlighted e-mail wasn’t an advertisement or a pitch to draw her into a porn site.
“Daughters of Judge Matthew S. Walker,” she read. The sender was somebody named Blackstone at a local television station. The name meant nothing to Elizabeth. She decided it was probably something to do with the article in the newspaper yesterday. Unlike Elizabeth, her editor had been pleased over the publicity. She’d probably dance a jig at the possibility of a live TV spot in a market as large as Houston. Still…
“Daughters of Judge Matthew S. Walker,” she read again, her hand hovering on the mouse. Being only human, curiosity got the best of her and she opened the e-mail.
Hi, Elizabeth.
You don’t know me yet, but it’s my hope that you will want to. I’m Lindsay Blackstone. You may have seen my show on WBYH-TV, “Lindsay’s Hour,” which is now canceled, I’m sorry to say. Anyway, I read the article about you in the Sunday Chronicle and, guess what? My sister Megan and I are your sisters! After Judge Walker’s death twenty-five years ago, we were adopted by Joseph and Emily Blackstone and now we would like, more than anything, to meet you.
Elizabeth’s heart was beating wildly in her chest now. Her sisters’ good fortune had been hard for the five-year-old Elizabeth to accept. While they’d been basking in the attention and care of two loving parents, she’d been surviving the trauma of numerous foster homes. Everything about that time was so painful that she never—absolutely never—allowed it to surface in her mind.
Megan is doing her residency at Hermann Hospital and hardly has a life at all, but she’ll make time to meet you. She’s as eager to know you as I am. Also, I was telling my producer here at Channel 6 about you being my sister. He saw the article, too, but as he has small children, he already knew about you and that you’d won the Newbery. Oh, by the way, congratulations on that! He said he hoped I had inherited some of that talent. He’s always trying to one-up me, but this time I have to agree. However, I hardly think my gift of gab is in a class with your awesome talent as a writer. Which brings me to this: When can we get together, Elizabeth? Just name the time and place. It’ll be wonderful to reconnect, don’t you think? Please call.
Elizabeth stared at a string of numbers, three for Lindsay, her office phone, her cell phone and her home, as well as numbers for Megan. There was even a number for the Blackstones at home. She’d signed the e-mail, “Love, Lindsay.”
She sat looking at that salutation for a long time. Rejecting it. Disbelieving it. Drumming up some kind of relationship with her biological sisters was the last thing she wanted or needed now.
Her throat was tight and her hands, resting on the keyboard, were unsteady. First, the article exposing facts from the past that she’d worked so hard to forget, and now this. She had known when she won the Newbery Medal that some of her cherished privacy would be compromised, but she hadn’t expected her whole life to become an open book. Hand on the mouse, Elizabeth deleted the e-mail.
She clicked the icon to bring up her word processing program and opened a new document to begin work, but thoughts of her sisters were not as easily zapped as an e-mail. Her peace of mind was destroyed. Her thoughts were in chaos. Lindsay’s interest was too late. Not wanted or welcomed now. After twenty-five years, they expected just to knock on her door and she’d open her heart and life to them? Even if she was somewhat curious about them, it wouldn’t happen. Couldn’t happen. She had all she needed in her life now and it didn’t include them. She had her career, she had Gina and Jesse, and yes, even Louie, although he’d probably react to that with an ironic twitch of his mustache considering how difficult it had been to become her friend. Another thought struck her. Lindsay’s sudden desire to “reconnect” now was probably a ruse to get an interview, not a genuine need to get to know a long-lost sister. More intrusive publicity. Nothing could be less appealing to Elizabeth. She had enough on her plate without reuniting with two people who were virtual strangers to her. And in Gina, she had a sister in the truest sense of the word. Together, they’d shared the hell of growing up as wards of the state and that was a bond far stronger than some distant blood connection with no memories attached.
She clicked on her file list and opened the document she’d been working on yesterday, determined to get back to work. The tension in her began to ease eventually as she immersed herself in a world that she controlled, a world of discovery and wonder, a child’s world. Something that Jesse had said last night had given Elizabeth an idea for a scene. Jesse, to her delight, proved a rich resource for her books. Focused again on her work, she had the scene almost completed when Gina rushed in.
“The hearing’s Friday morning at ten,” she said breathlessly. “Maude just called. She wants you to be a character witness. And Louie, too.”
Elizabeth saved the document before turning to look at Gina. “Did Maude say she wanted to talk to me or Louie about our testimony?”
Gina wrapped both arms around herself, looking anxious. “No. I mean, I don’t know. I didn’t think to ask. I just freaked out once I heard the hearing was actually scheduled. He’s going to steal her from me, Lizzie, wait and see!”
Elizabeth suspected the same thing herself and had been diligently trying to figure out how to counter whatever maneuver Austin had up his sleeve. Knowing if she revealed her fears, Gina would be even more panicked, Elizabeth rose from her chair and went over to a leather couch, patting a place beside her. “Try not to panic, Gee. Austin would have to produce very damaging evidence against you before a judge would rule in his favor.”
“He wouldn’t have to look very hard to find stuff,” Gina said, sitting gingerly. “I’m unemployed, I can’t afford an apartment for us on my own, I’ve got a mountain of debt on three maxed-out credit cards, I—”
“Those debts were incurred by both of you,” Elizabeth said, thinking there were worse things than debt and homelessness that would be unflattering to Gina as a mother if Austin’s lawyer chose to use them. “Besides, you wouldn’t be in such desperate circumstances if Austin hadn’t forced you out of the firm. This is probably just harassment on his part and he doesn’t want Jesse at all, Gee. Deep down, it’s your claim to a financial settlement that’s driving him.”
“Maybe so, but I know he’ll try to take Jesse.”
“And Maude will argue that he’s been a sorry excuse for a father.”
“Nothing will stick,” Gina said bitterly. “Trust me. Somehow his lawyer will make me out to be a…a slut or something. And probably unstable, too.”
Although Elizabeth believed that was a very real possibility, she wouldn’t say it. As it was, Gina was dangerously close to meltdown from the stress of the breakup. In spite of the fact that Austin was cruel, insensitive and violent, there was clearly something about him that drew Gina.
Eight years ago, Gina had been hired as a paralegal at the law firm where Austin’s father was a senior partner. Why he had fallen for her was understandable. Gina was beautiful, a dark-haired, vivacious person with a sharp wit and ready smile. She was good at her job, too. In fact, Elizabeth had tried to persuade her to go to law school, but that would have meant time away from Austin. Still, it wasn’t long before Austin’s controlling ways and ungovernable temper took some of the bloom off the romance and dashed Gina’s rosy expectations. He wouldn’t marry her, but he wanted her. Their life together was stormy and unpredictable, up one day, down the next. Crazy. Why she’d stayed in such a relationship still mystified Elizabeth. But now, because he was Jesse’s father, it made sense to tread carefully.
“Who is his lawyer?” Elizabeth asked.
“Wait’ll you hear,” Gina said gloomily. “It’s Ryan Paxton.”
“So? Who is he?”
“Just the best that Leggett, Jones and Brunson has when it comes to winning in court.” Gina got up to pace, rubbing her forehead and frowning. “I told myself it couldn’t be Ryan, at least I didn’t think he’d take on something like this. He’s not exactly a friend of Austin’s. In fact, I always got the feeling that he disliked Austin, or at least that he found him kind of…well, he didn’t have much respect for him. He knows Austin got into the firm through his father while everybody knows that Ryan is where he is because he’s smart, he works like a dog and he brings in a ton of clients.” She stopped and grabbed Elizabeth’s phone. “I’m calling Maude back. I need to warn her just how formidable Ryan can be in the courtroom.”
Elizabeth watched her dial, then listened as she spoke to Maude Kennedy. The conversation was brief and when she hung up, she knew by the look on Gina’s face that Maude had failed to reassure her.
“I’m in big trouble, Lizzie. Maude says she knows Ryan’s reputation and I’m right to be concerned. She wants me to think about what to say on the stand, but it’s hopeless. Ryan will wipe the floor with me.” Gina gave a choked cry. “The man’s a barracuda! He never loses.”
“Every lawyer loses once in a while.”
“Then for Ryan, it’s once in a very rare while. Frankly, I don’t recall him losing even once since he’s been with the firm.”
Elizabeth stood up. “Actually I see an advantage here, Gee.” She gave her a little push toward the door. It was time for lunch. Jesse had half a day at kindergarten and was now playing in the yard under Louie’s watchful eye, but she would be coming inside soon. She didn’t intend for the child to get wind of any stress, especially regarding her contemptible father. “If Paxton has been in the firm that long, then you’re hardly a stranger to him. No matter what gossip he hears, it’s facts he must present in court.”
Gina was still wringing her hands. “I can’t count on that. I was a paralegal, not a lawyer, and I worked exclusively for Austin. When it comes to taking the side of some lowly ex-employee at LJ and B over someone whose father is Curtiss Leggett himself, guess who’ll come out on top?”
“Austin forced your resignation from the firm, Gee. When he realized you planned to demand child support for Jesse, you had to go. Just as he forced you to move out of the house where the two of you have lived together for eight years. Maude will reveal all that in court. When this is over, you should file a civil suit against the firm. You have every right to bring your own case.”
“Hah! That’s all Austin is waiting for,” Gina said bitterly. “I can’t bear to think what he’ll do if I don’t just shut up and let him have his way.”
“Does that include handing Jesse over?” When Gina’s eyes filled with fresh tears, Elizabeth felt a pang of remorse. Gina knew what was at stake without being reminded. “I don’t think you need to worry too much about Paxton digging up dirt on you, Gee. He’ll be aware that you’ve been a conscientious employee. Knowing this, he’ll hardly go for your jugular.”
“You don’t know him.” Gina looked defeated. “Wait and see, he’ll destroy me.”
“I don’t care how you do it, just destroy her.”
Ryan Paxton placed his pen on the legal pad and leaned back in his chair, watching his fellow colleague stalk about the office, tight-lipped and furious. “That’s a pretty harsh statement, Austin.” Ryan glanced at the notes he’d taken. “Nothing you’ve said so far is going to give a judge sufficient cause to deny Gina compensation after a live-in arrangement that lasted eight years.”
“That’s why we have to destroy her.”
Ryan sighed with frustration. Austin Leggett was his client only because Curtiss Leggett, senior partner at Leggett, Jones and Brunson and Austin’s father, had approached Ryan and asked him to represent his son in “a delicate matter.” Curtiss wanted a quick, quiet and final resolution to a sticky situation without a hint of any unpleasantness to the firm. Ryan studied his notes. Making that happen was going to be tricky. Gina D’Angelo had been a paralegal at LJ and B and Austin had been shacking up with her for eight years. They had a child, a little girl, five years old. Now Austin wanted out of the relationship and he didn’t want any expensive consequences. Tuning out Austin’s ranting, he briefly considered telling Curtiss he wanted no part of Austin’s sleazy life. But as a partner in the firm, the reputation of LJ and B was as important to Ryan as it was to Curtiss. Too bad Austin didn’t have the same concern.
“I guess you didn’t consider the firm’s policy of non-fraternization when the two of you became lovers,” Ryan said to him now.
Austin shrugged. With his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, he looked like a petulant teenager being forced to discuss a misdemeanor. “We had some good times. In the beginning.”
“I hope it was worth a couple of thousand a month in palimony, buddy. Because that’s what I’d expect from you if I were her lawyer, plus child support.”
Austin was shaking his head, dismissing the possibility.
“Not a problem. The attorney she’s hired is some bleeding-heart female who specializes in family matters. You can run rings around her without half trying. Name’s Maude Kennedy.”
“I know Maude Kennedy. I’ve seen her in court where the only bleeding is from wounds inflicted by Maude herself. No, Austin, you’ve got to have something more than hostility and wishful thinking to get out of this one with your assets intact.” Ryan rested farther back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head. “Frankly, it’s the kid that complicates everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if you didn’t have the little girl…” He moved forward, paged back in his notes, found a name. “Jesse, is it? If you didn’t have Jesse, Gina’s case would be a lot weaker. Come on, Austin, she’s your flesh and blood. You want to do the decent thing for your daughter, don’t you? It’s Gina you’ve fallen out of love with, not Jesse, right?”
Scowling, Austin resumed pacing in the cramped office. Ryan had a tendency to stack material on any empty surface, including the floor. Case files littered the thick carpet along with reference books, computer printouts and—Ryan winced—the empty pizza box from last night’s take-out when he had been burning the midnight oil on a real case, and not some irritating domestic dispute between two former lovers who now hated each other. But if the clutter hampered Leggett, or if he even noticed, he gave no indication. He was too intent on coming up with a strategy to stiff Gina, even if it meant his own daughter’s quality of life suffered.
“What if I sued for custody of Jesse?”
Ryan felt a pang of sympathy for the little girl. “You’d have to prove Gina unfit, since she’ll probably put up a fight. Mothers are funny that way,” he added dryly, but Austin was busy thinking and missed the irony in his tone.
“She had a rough upbringing.”
“Gina?”
“Yeah, she was raised in foster care. Lived with a dozen families, the way she tells it. Then struck out on her own when she was about sixteen. She’s been around the block more than once.”
“No crime there.”
“It shouldn’t be difficult to prove she isn’t the best role model for a five-year-old girl.”
“Starting with…?”
“Hell, I don’t know.” He rubbed both hands over his face. “There’s gotta be something. Nobody’s perfect.”
“You’d be the best judge of that after observing her as a mother for five years. I’ll need specifics and so far, I haven’t heard any. I don’t know Gina personally. Except for an occasional encounter in the halls, I don’t think we’ve ever talked. But she seems pretty solid to me. She’s a damn good paralegal, according to my assistant, Jean Johnson.”
“Yeah, well, give me a day or two and I’ll compile a list that’ll guarantee she’s unfit to mother a stray cat, let alone my daughter.”
“It has to have the ring of truth, Austin. You go at it from the angle of proving her unfit with bogus charges and Maude Kennedy will hang us both out to dry.”
“Well, shit!” Austin flung himself into a chair.
“For starters, Maude will produce a couple of character witnesses. I don’t need to remind you that they say nice things.”
Austin looked up. “But we’ll diss the witnesses, right?”
Ryan shrugged. “Depends. You’ll need to cast doubt on their veracity. But…I’m warning you, you screw that up, it could do your case big-time harm.”
Austin grunted with irritation, rubbing the fingers of one hand along his jaw, thinking. “I bet I know who she’ll call.”
Ryan clicked his pen, ready to write.
“She’ll probably persuade that tight-assed bitch she’s moved in with to lie about her on the stand. Those two are disgusting when they get together. And they’re together permanently now, just the way Elizabeth has always wanted it. I’ve always known she had the hots for Gina. Talk about feminism gone rampant.”
“She’s living with a lesbian?” Ryan jotted a note on the pad and added a question mark. It paid to take Austin’s statements with some skepticism.
“Wait’ll you meet her…and that old goat they’ve practically adopted next door. He’ll be witness number two. I tell you, it’s like a sixties compound over there when they all get together. Elizabeth writes, if you consider books for kids real writing, and the old man doesn’t do much of anything, far as I can tell. Mostly acts the doting grandfather. Wait and see, between the two, they’ll pressure him into swearing they’re all saints.”
Ryan put his pen down. “Have you considered the fact that her friends might actually be decent people? And that Jesse might be better off with surrogates who really love her?”
“You think I don’t?”
“I think you’re so obsessed with putting an end to your relationship with Gina that you’re in danger of losing sight of what’s best for Jesse. You can bet the judge won’t. That’ll be uppermost in his mind. And in his ruling.”
“All I’m obsessed with is blocking Gina’s plan to take me to the cleaners. Jesse’ll be fine with me. I—”
Ryan lifted a hand to halt him as the phone rang. A glance at caller ID showed his daughter’s cell phone number. Jennifer had strict instructions not to disturb him short of an emergency, but lately she’d been stretching the definition of emergency. He reached for the phone. Almost everything was an emergency to a fifteen-year-old girl, he thought with a sigh.
“What’s up, Jen?”
“Dad, did you call Mom like I asked you to?” Without waiting for a reply, Jennifer rushed on in a whiney voice. “She’s so impossible, Dad. She’s treating me like I’m ten years old or something.” Her voice climbed several notes in distress. “I don’t know how much longer I can take this!”
Ryan spun his chair to face the skyline. “Take what, Jen? And make it quick as I’m with a client and you know—”
“Excuse me, but I hope I’m equal to a client,” she said frostily. “I’m your daughter. Do I have to make an appointment to talk to you on the phone?” She drew an impatient breath and regressed to teenager mode again. “And you didn’t answer me. Did you talk to Mom or didn’t you?”
“I haven’t made the call yet, Jen, and I’m not sure what you thought it would accomplish anyway. Your mother has rules that seem reasonable to me.”
“You promised, Dad!” she cried shrilly.
Ryan shifted the phone a bit from his ear. “And I will, Jen. I just haven’t managed to get a—”
“Oooh, this is so…so…not okay! If you had to live with her every day you’d see what I’m talking about.”
“What exactly is the problem, Jen? How is she treating you like a baby? Be specific.”
“That sounds so like a lawyer,” Jennifer said with disgust.
“I am a lawyer,” Ryan said dryly.
“Well, here’s the problem.” He heard the bounce as she flopped on her bed. He pictured her settling back, taking her time—and his client’s—to spin her side of the latest battle between her and his ex. “Jeff Landon invited me to this party and I saw these really neat boots, but Mom just acted so…so…as if we were on food stamps or something. She said no. Just a flat no, I couldn’t have them, they were too expensive. That I—”
“Maybe you didn’t need them, baby.”
“I did! They were too cool. Via Spigas. Perfect with my new outfit.” She took a breath, dropping her tone. “It’s not just the boots, Dad. It’s that she doesn’t have time for me anymore. She’s got this new guy friend. He’s gross. He’s bald, Dad.”
“Jennifer, is this about new boots or about your mom’s new friend? And remember, I’m working. If you were a client, I’d be billing you big bucks.”
“Oh, funny, Dad. In other words, you don’t have time for me either, right? Mom doesn’t have time, you don’t have time. I don’t have any friends anymore. Jeff will probably dump me if I have to wear something old! If it weren’t for Mocha, I’d be totally alone in the world. My whole life sucks!”
Mocha was Jennifer’s chocolate lab. The aging dog had been faithfully devoted to her since she was five years old. Ryan swung back around, removed his reading glasses and tossed them on the desk. “So far I haven’t heard anything from you that sounds so awful,” he said, rubbing a spot between his eyes. “And don’t swear. You know the rule. And it goes for me as well as Diane, damn it.”
“Do as I say, not as I do, right?” Jennifer said sarcastically. “That just figures.”
“Tell Diane that I’ll be calling,” he ordered, his patience exhausted. “Tonight, provided she’s staying in.”
“I won’t hold my breath for either one of you,” Jennifer muttered.
He clamped his teeth, struggling to hold his temper. “I said I’ll call her, Jennifer. And be there yourself. You hear me?”
He winced as the phone crashed in his ear. She’d hung up on him.
“Problems?” Austin asked with a cynical twist of his lips.
“Be careful what you wish for,” Ryan said. “Jesse will be a teenager one day.”
“I can handle it.” Austin moved to the window. “I was thinking as you talked. What about this?” He turned to look at Ryan. “My mother’s been making noises about Jesse visiting with her now that Gina and I are finished. This guy she’s married to now is okay with it, she says. As far as TLC is concerned, there’s plenty of it waiting for her with them.”
Ryan frowned, trying to shove the dilemma of his own daughter in the back of his mind. If Jennifer kept this up, she was going to wind up in trouble. What the hell was the problem with her and Diane? His ex had demanded primary custody after the divorce, then after about six months, she’d remarried and moved to Dallas. Incredibly, less than two years later, she was divorced again. He didn’t claim to be a perfect father, but at least he was more stable than Diane. Still, it was hard trying to do the right thing by Jen long-distance. If he wasn’t fielding complaints from her about her mother, he was trying to soothe Diane as she whined about Jen. He rubbed a hand over his eyes and put his glasses back on and brought his thoughts back to Austin’s domestic problems. “Where does your mother live? Nearby, I hope.”
“Actually, it’s Arizona. But so what?”
“That’s a long way from Houston. Judges try to keep kids within reasonable traveling distance of both parents. You heard what just transpired between me and my daughter. It’s difficult when parents can’t share the ups and downs of raising a kid. If you remove Jesse from Gina’s immediate orbit, you’ll have to shoulder most of the responsibility. It can get sticky, take it from me.”
“I can handle that, too.”
Ryan took in a long breath and tucked the yellow pad with his notes into the file. “I don’t know, Austin. Unless you can come up with specifics to taint Gina’s character or cast aspersions on her as a mother, this won’t be a cakewalk.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit, Ryan. You could build a case against Mother Teresa in a courtroom. As for Gina’s faults, she’s got a million. It’s your job to sniff them out.”
He had two options, Ryan decided, squinting beyond Leggett to the stunning view of Houston’s skyline visible in the floor-to-ceiling windows. He could tell this insensitive prick to get someone else to do his dirty work, or he could show up in court, take a fresh, personal look at Gina and decide in his own mind whether Jesse was better off with her and her unconventional live-in, or with Austin’s mom. In spite of the fact that he’d seen Gina in the office for several years, he knew very little about her. The judge might be someone who frowned on unmarried couples cohabiting, much less having children. But whether the judge would consider that a strike against her remained to be seen. Poor little kid. It was a foregone conclusion that Jesse wasn’t going to have a future with her daddy regardless of the ruling by the court. The sheets were barely cool in the bedroom he’d shared with Gina and Ryan suspected he was already on the scent of a new lover.
“I’ll put something together about Gina and the witnesses,” Austin said, rising to go. “You can take it from there.”
Ryan stood up. “Make it good.”
Ryan handled three more appointments that day before finding time to open the folder containing the material Austin had furnished about Gina. He spent an hour reading Austin’s descriptions of the woman’s behavior over the years. Finishing, he groaned and rubbed both hands over his face. He preferred to avoid cases like this because of the courtroom carnage that resulted when couples decided to part. And once their lawyers got into the act, people who once viewed themselves as fairly well-matched were suddenly accusing each other of being evil incarnate. It had happened to him and Diane when they divorced, and Jennifer had been the victim. In spite of his efforts to provide some stability for his daughter, it had been traumatic for her. She’d been nine at the time. As for Diane, he’d been beyond caring about her then. Discovering her infidelity had killed his love for her outright.
He fingered the notes he’d taken earlier. Skewed, of course, to Austin’s point of view. He was primed to play hardball and if the allegations he’d made to Ryan were true, there should be little difficulty painting Gina as unstable and unfit. On the other hand, was Austin telling the truth?
Ryan paged over to the character witnesses. Louis Christian. The folder contained only a single sheet. Retired business consultant, the facts of his career going back fifteen or so years. Property records showed Christian’s house had been purchased three years ago, but Austin hadn’t been successful in ferreting out more details, not even a former address. Also missing was anything potentially damaging that might taint his testimony. A note from Maude Kennedy was clipped to the page. Christian respectfully asked to be deposed rather than to appear in court. Health reasons. With a shrug, Ryan scribbled a note to his secretary to call Maude and agree. If, after reading the deposition he noted anything that sent up a red flag, he’d force the witness to appear in person.
Ryan set that folder aside and opened the next one with Elizabeth Walker’s name printed on it. He paused for a moment, trying to capture a fleeting memory, but whatever it was danced just out of reach. The top page was a photocopied author bio, courtesy of her publisher, Ryan noted. So she wasn’t just some hack writer playing at writing kids’ books as Austin said. She was multipublished and award-winning. He quickly scanned the basics: born in Houston, graduate of city public schools, a master’s degree from the University of Texas. Brainy and successful, he realized, noting the string of honors mentioned in the bio. Attached to the bio was a photo. Her face was a perfect oval with high, model-quality cheekbones and a mouth that was wide and softly appealing. Kissable. But it was her eyes that caught and held the viewer’s gaze. In the black-and-white photo, they appeared crystallike in clarity, wide apart, the brows naturally arched. The color would have to remain a mystery, but he found himself wondering…blue, gray, hazel? No mention of a husband, siblings, hobbies or other interests in her life. In fact, there was so little personal information that he was suddenly curious.
Settling back he studied the face of Elizabeth Walker. A woman with a face like that could use it to her advantage. He wondered if she was that kind of woman.
Turning the photo facedown, he picked up the next item, a newspaper clipping, again photocopied. And recent, too, he noticed, with a glance at the date. A feature article in the Sunday edition of the Chronicle. He didn’t recall reading it himself, but he often played golf on Sunday and sometimes only glanced at the features section of the paper. As he began reading, the vague familiarity he’d been unable to grasp earlier suddenly came into hard focus. He swore softly, reading more intently, his eyes now flying over the words. The publisher’s bio had skipped the juicy stuff, but the Chronicle reporter hadn’t. Ryan shuffled through the pages and came across another photo, one that had been used in the feature. She was pictured in her office sitting at her computer. Live plants with cascading greenery enhanced her work area. She was surrounded by bookcases, all volumes neatly shelved. Small art objects and mementos were tastefully placed around the room. He peered closely at her. This time, she smiled. Too fixed to be natural, he thought. Clearly it had been produced on demand by a photographer.
He closed the folder and sat back, his frown as dark as the twilight swiftly falling over the skyline. Old pain stirred in his chest. Old rage. According to the article, Elizabeth Walker was the daughter of Judge Matthew Walker, a high-profile figure in Houston politics who’d died in a house fire in the late seventies. But it wasn’t that that interested Ryan. What he recalled about Judge Walker was more personal—Matthew Walker was the man responsible for his father’s death more than twenty-five years ago.
Three
“Let’s see if I understand you, Ms. D’Angelo.” Ryan Paxton gave the judge a small smile, two men sharing a male moment. “You claim you were physically abused by my client, not once, but several times during your…relationship?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Gina said, her tone almost inaudible. Both hands were knotted together in her lap. Elizabeth, watching from the front row in the courtroom, felt Gina’s distress. She looked pale and frightened. If only there was a way she could go to her, put a hand on her shoulder, encourage her with a warm hug. Gina had been right. Ryan Paxton was a barracuda.
A very attractive, confident, skillful barracuda. Gina’s words, but they were an inadequate description. Elizabeth simply hadn’t been prepared for the force of Ryan Paxton in person. He was younger than the mental image she’d conjured up. Not yet forty, she decided, closer to mid-thirties. Very impressive for the level of his success. He was Texas born and bred, of course, she knew it just from the look of him and the lazy drawl in his voice, although there was nothing lazy about his rapier sharp mind. His legs were long, his body well toned. His suit probably cost a couple of thousand dollars. When he moved around the courtroom—which he did a lot—it was with the rangy ease of a man who might have been born in a saddle. Likely a total misinterpretation, she thought with a quiet little snort. He was probably a lot more at home in Houston’s trendy Sierra Grille than either hunting, fishing or riding in Texas’s hill country.
“Speak up, please,” the judge ordered sternly.
The judge was worrisome, too. It was Gina’s bad luck that Lawrence Hetherington was presiding. He was known in legal circles as Lock ’em up Larry, notorious for his hard-nosed rulings. Gina had fared well during Maude Kennedy’s questioning, but she was literally trembling with fear now and Paxton was taking skillful advantage of it.
“Ms. D’Angelo?” the judge prodded.
Gina cleared her throat before replying. “Yes. Austin was abusive. Frequently.”
“But not so frequently that you quit shacking up with him, right?” Ryan quizzed.
“Objection, Your Honor!” Maude Kennedy was on her feet.
“Sustained,” the judge intoned. “Mr. Paxton, watch yourself.”
Ryan strode to a table, flipped open a folder and took out a sheet of paper. “This is a list of every hospital and emergency room within a fifty-mile radius of the dwelling you shared with my client, Ms. D’Angelo. Nowhere is there a record of you ever being treated…for anything. How do you explain that?”
“I never went to a hospital,” Gina said, her tone faltering again.
“But you were badly injured?” Paxton was clearly skeptical. “More than once?”
“Yes.”
“Describe these injuries that you claimed in your testimony were crippling.”
“Well, there were bruises on my arms and legs and b-backside, you know, when he’d shove me and I’d fall against the furniture. Sometimes I’d be limping for days. Or…or he’d twist my hair in his fist, pulling it out by the roots. He’s struck me in my face, too. One time—”
“And your co-workers never noticed these bruises? Never inquired about a black eye? Never commented when you appeared on crutches at the firm?”
“I never needed crutches.”
“Oh…” Ryan nodded slowly, unconvinced. “And the bruises?”
“Well…” Gina licked her lips and glanced at Judge Hetherington. “He was always careful, Your Honor. Usually we’d be away from Houston, like at a weekend getaway or on vacation somewhere. So by the time we returned, the bruises had faded or I could cover them with makeup.”
“Direct your answers to Mr. Paxton, Ms. D’Angelo,” the judge instructed.
Nodding, Gina obediently turned to face Ryan.
“You took vacations together during the eight years of your relationship,” he said, looking at a sheet he’d pulled from the folder.
“Yes.”
“Often, according to my client. And this list.” Ryan waved the paper in the direction of the judge. “From it, I see you were in Saint Croix, then Hawaii—two times—Europe, Canada, Boston, San Francisco, Washington D.C., New York…hmmm, four, five, six. Six times you visited New York with my client. Like New York, do you?”
“Austin liked New York.”
“Were these trips business related?”
“We attended legal conferences, yes.”
“How often?”
Gina shrugged. “Three, four times. I’m not sure.”
“I’m counting over twenty very posh vacation spots. And, by the way, how often was Jesse allowed on these trips?”
“As often as I could persuade him to let her go,” Gina said, darting a quick glance at Austin, who was sprawled behind the defendant table looking bored. She had avoided meeting his eyes during her testimony.
“How many times, Ms. D’Angelo?” Ryan pressed.
Gina was shaking her head. “Three times,” she replied hesitantly.
“But being such a caring mother, you cheerfully waved goodbye to your little girl…let’s see, about seventeen times, it appears. Leaving her with…who?”
“Her godmother.” Gina met Elizabeth’s gaze across the courtroom. “Elizabeth Walker.”
“Your close friend.”
“My best friend,” Gina said.
Ryan turned abruptly to the judge. “I don’t see a pattern of abuse here by my client, Your Honor. On the contrary, my client took Ms. D’Angelo with him when he vacationed, he opened his home to her, she lived well beyond the means she would have been able to provide for herself while keeping company with my client. Furthermore, I believe Austin Leggett is well qualified to have full custody of the child, Jesse. He acknowledges paternity, he loves his daughter, he wants only the best for her.”
“Is this your summation, counselor?” the judge asked.
Ryan gave a short, charmingly sheepish grin. “Not yet, Your Honor. Sorry about that.” He turned again to Gina. “How do you propose to support Jesse, Ms. D’Angelo?”
“I’m a qualified paralegal. I should be able to get a job at one of the major law firms in the city.”
“But do you have a job now?”
“No.”
“Why is that?”
“I was only…I left Leggett, Jones and Brunson only a month ago. They paid me three-month’s severance and—”
“If you’re so good at your job, why were you terminated?”
Gina glanced warily at Austin. “I wasn’t terminated. I resigned.”
“Why, Ms. D’Angelo?”
“Austin…suggested it.” She turned again to the judge. “I know it makes me sound sort of irresponsible, Your Honor, but Austin made it intolerable for me. He—”
“Direct your answers to counsel, Ms. D’Angelo,” the judge repeated with some exasperation. “Don’t make me repeat myself again.”
Gina’s shoulders fell as she turned back, gazing not at Ryan, but at her hands. “He was going to accuse me of irregularities in the handling of some of his clients’ matters. He specializes in estate law. He handles millions of dollars in other peoples’ assets. It would be easy to manipulate funds here and there.”
“What exactly are you accusing my client of?”
“Nothing, no. Only the threat of doing it. If I didn’t leave peacefully.” Gina pressed trembling fingers to her mouth. “In his position, it’s easy to move money around from one client’s portfolio to another without actually—”
“Come on, Ms. D’Angelo. What you’re accusing my client of is a serious charge. In fact, some might call it slander.”
“It isn’t slander if it’s true.” Gina’s tone rose with her agitation. “Do you think I’d walk out of a job where I’d worked for almost nine years if I didn’t have a compelling reason? Knowing Austin wanted to dump me and I’d be without a place to live? Knowing there’d be no way I could support Jesse? I don’t think so, Mr. Paxton,” she added bitterly.
“But you do have a place to live,” Paxton argued. “Your best friend and Jesse’s godmother, Elizabeth Walker, has been only too eager to take you in. No, I think you orchestrated this whole scam, the abrupt resignation at LJ and B, the allegations of abuse and irregularities with the firm’s most valued clients, the threat of legal action against my client…all toward one end. You want a hefty financial settlement. You want a lot of money in return for walking out of his life.”
“No, I—”
“No more questions, Your Honor.” Ryan turned on his heel and strode to the table. Dropping into a chair, he didn’t look at Gina again, nor did he glance at his client. Instead, he flipped the folder shut, leaned back with his hand spread flat on the folder as if to guard the contents and gazed moodily out a window. If his goal had been to destroy Gina, Elizabeth thought, studying the set look of his features, he’d succeeded. But he didn’t look like a man who was pleased with his success.
“You may step down, Ms. D’Angelo,” the judge said. And as Gina rose unsteadily, Maude Kennedy stood up.
“I have one more question, if Your Honor would allow it?” She raised pencil-thin eyebrows in question. The judge nodded and motioned Gina back into the chair.
“How much money are you requesting from Austin Leggett, Gina?”
“Two thousand dollars a month,” Gina replied. “And for child support only, nothing more. Jesse will stay in the school where she’s presently enrolled in kindergarten. One thousand will pay her tuition and the other will be placed in trust for her to go to college.”
Maude Kennedy looked at the judge. “That’s all, Your Honor. Thank you.”
“Step down, Ms. D’Angelo,” the judge ordered. As Gina rose and left the witness box, he studied a paper in an open folder in front of him. “You want to call your first character witness, Ms. Kennedy?”
Still standing, Maude said, “There is only one witness, Your Honor. We have a deposition in lieu of testimony from the second witness, Louis Christian. He is presently at Elizabeth Walker’s residence taking care of Jesse. As you’ll see once you’ve read the deposition, Mr. Christian is not a blood relation to Jesse, but he could very well be her grandfather. He sees her daily. They’re very close.”
“Then call the witness who has shown up, counselor,” the judge replied. He removed his glasses and rubbed both eyes with thumb and forefinger as if his patience was at an end. Her face carefully blank, Maude nodded to the bailiff.
“Elizabeth Walker,” the bailiff intoned.
Elizabeth was already on her feet. She approached the gate in the bar separating spectators in the courtroom from the players and slipped through it, made her way past the two lawyers’ tables to the witness box and turned to take an oath to tell the truth. She was nervous. None of her experience in courtrooms had been pleasant, but this wasn’t about her, she told herself, taking her seat gingerly. It was about Jesse. Gina. Their future.
Maude seemed to sense her apprehension and gave her a reassuring smile as she asked her address and occupation. Then, “How long have you known Gina D’Angelo?”
“Since we were both five years old.”
“You’re not related?” Maude asked, knowing the answer.
Elizabeth smiled faintly. “Not by blood, no. But we sometimes feel as if we’re related. Sisters almost.” She took a small breath. “We were both wards of the state when we were orphaned at age five. As luck would have it, we were in the same foster homes off and on during our teenage years.”
“That explains your willingness to share your home with Gina now.”
“In a way, I guess. Actually, we’re no different from biological sisters who see a lot of each other,” Elizabeth said, feeling more at ease. Maybe this would be more positive than she had thought. “We live in the same city, we share holidays, lunch, we shop together, we share gossip and clothes. I was at Gina’s bedside when Jesse was born. In fact, I was her birthing coach. So now that she’s in difficulty, it’s very natural to have her move in with me until she’s on her feet again.”
“Why wasn’t Mr. Leggett Gina’s birthing coach?”
“He said he didn’t have time.”
“Where was he when Jesse was born?”
“In Europe. On one of the many excursions he took without Gina,” she added dryly.
“How would you characterize Gina? In a few words.”
“She’s loving, smart, honest, impulsive, funny. Jesse adores her. She’s everything a sister and best friend should be. My life would not be nearly as rich without Gina.”
“Thank you, Elizabeth.”
The moment she feared was upon her. She tried to blank the apprehension from her mind. And the utterly irrelevant thoughts she’d had about Ryan Paxton as he’d questioned Gina. It was her turn now and Jesse’s life was in the balance.
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